A sound like cracking bone and tearing flesh filled the charged air. The half-elf's body arched violently, his spine bending at an impossible angle. His eyes flew open, no longer holding their elemental pride, but glowing with the same sinister purple that had consumed Lurker. His wounds sealed in an instant, not with the gentle light of healing, but with a rampant, cursed energy that scarred his skin with pulsing, violet welts. He rose to his feet, movements jerky and unnatural, a marionette pulled by invisible strings. He was no longer Nihilastra.
A guttural, inhuman scream tore from his throat, a sound that held no trace of elven grace or human reason. "HHAAAAAAAAAA!"
As the wail echoed across the ruined Proving Grounds, his body began to mutate. Skin split and darkened, hardening into jagged, draconic scales of deepest amethyst that spread across his face and arms like a plague. From his brow, twin horns of condensed dark energy twisted forth, cracking through bone and flesh with a sickening crunch.
Saturu's usual calm finally shattered, his eyes widening a fraction. (Inner monologue: A Cursed Doll transformation... and it's fused with his draconic lineage. This is going to be very, very messy.)
Shiro cracked his neck, the embers of his recent battle still glowing in his eyes. "Well, that's a wrap. Looks like I need to step in again."
"Count me in," Saturu said, his voice low and focused as he stepped forward to stand beside Shiro.
Shiro shot him a skeptical glance. "Huh? How are you gonna fight? You left your sword behind."
A faint, almost imperceptible smile touched Saturu's lips. "Don't worry about me. Just try to keep up."
As they settled into their stances, the creature that was once Nihilastra acted. Its maw, now distended and lined with fangs, opened wide. The air itself shimmered as it drew breath, not of air, but of raw, destructive mana. A torrent of purple-and-black energy—a corrupted Dragon's Breath—erupted toward them, wide enough to swallow the entire arena section.
The world turned to fire and shadow. Just before the blast hit, two figures vanished. Shiro became a blur of motion, darting to the left with explosive speed, while Saturu simply seemed to dissolve and reappear in a flicker, now perched atop a crumbling archway directly above the monster.
Shiro burst from the cloud of smoke and debris, his fist wreathed in white-hot flame. He sped toward the creature's flank, aiming a devastating punch at its mutated ribs. But the creature was faster. A scaled hand, moving with blinding speed, snapped out and caught Shiro's fist mid-strike. The impact echoed with a sound like clashing stones.
Shiro's eyes widened in surprise for a split second, then a defiant smirk spread across his face. The creature's other hand came up, palm open, as a complex, brutal spell-circle ignited in the air before it.
"Annihilation Dragon Roar," it gurgled.
A point-blank blast of pure force, concentrated into a sphere the size of a man's head, slammed into Shiro's chest. There was no fire, only overwhelming kinetic energy that lifted him off his feet and hurled him into the sky. The air was driven from his lungs, his vision spotting.
"Huh...?" he grunted, disoriented, floating weightless for a moment high above the arena.
He looked down just in time to see the creature leap, a purple comet of hatred. It planted both feet on his torso and drove him back down into the earth like a nail. The ground erupted on impact, a crater of shattered stone and dust blooming outward.
A moment later, Shiro leaped from the rubble, wiping a trail of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand. Rage and determination fused within him. "My turn!" he roared.
He unleashed a relentless volley of fire blasts, each one a concentrated sphere of sun-hot plasma that hammered into the creature's scaled hide. Then he charged, closing the distance in an instant. He ducked under a wild swipe and drove his fist, empowered by every ounce of his strength, squarely into the creature's jaw. The hit connected with a sickening crack, sending the monstrosity stumbling backward.
It roared, enraged, and activated a new spell. "Open Crossfire!" Dozens of smaller, seeking orbs of cursed energy materialized and shot toward Shiro from all directions.
In that moment, Saturu dropped from the sky like a silent hawk. He had gathered momentum from his high perch, and his fist, seemingly without any magical aura, connected with the top of the creature's skull. The blow was perfectly placed, a masterful strike that bypassed the thick scales to rattle the brain within. The creature's roar was cut short as it was driven face-first into the ground, just as Shiro's seeking fire orbs found their mark, exploding around it in a symphony of destruction.
The creature staggered to its feet, its body smoking, one horn cracked. It let out a pained, furious bellow and slammed a clawed hand onto its own chest. A purple aura flared around it. "Curse Deflection!"
Shiro and Saturu, now standing side-by-side on the ravaged earth, shared a single nod. In perfect unison, they teleported—Shiro in a burst of flame, Saturu in a blur of motion.
Shiro reappeared directly in front of the creature, his fist burying itself deep in its gut. The creature doubled over, coughing up a spray of blackish blood. Before it could recover, Saturu was there, delivering a picture-perfect uppercut that connected with its broken jaw with a sound of finality. The force of the blow lifted the massive creature off its feet and sent it flying backward, where it crashed through the outer wall of a nearby palace with a thunderous boom of collapsing masonry.
From within the dust cloud of the ruined wall, a broken, wheezing laughter emerged. The creature stood, its jaw hanging at a grotesque angle, dark blood flowing freely. "Hahaha... haaaaa... How dare you... HAAAAAA!"
It began to gather energy again, its maw opening wider than ever before. A sphere of absolute annihilation formed, swelling in size, its heat so intense it began to melt the stone around it. It was a final, desperate act to melt everything—the arena, the city, everyone in it.
"He's going to take out the whole district!" Shiro yelled.
"I've got the flame, you pin him down!" Saturu commanded.
Shiro's hands moved, manipulating the very fabric of the fire attribute. He didn't try to extinguish the blast; he compressed it, containing the cataclysmic energy, forcing it back into the creature's mouth like a lid on a boiling pot. The strain was immense, veins bulging on his forehead.
At the same moment, Saturu leaped onto the creature's back, his arms and legs locking around its limbs in an unbreakable hold, forcing it to the ground.
But the creature, drained and broken, began to glow from within. The cursed energy, the dragon's power, and Nihilastra's own immense mana were running rampant, with no will left to control them. Its body started to swell, pulsing with unstable light.
"He's going to explode!" Shiro shouted, the heat from the contained blast searing his arms.
Saturu, struggling to hold the convulsing body, gritted his teeth. (This has never happened before. The Cursed Doll can't handle the mana feedback loop. The core is overloading!)
"Shiro! We can't contain this! We have to throw him somewhere! The sky!" Saturu yelled.
But before they could act, a familiar, clear voice cut through the chaos.
"Frozen Crust!"
A wave of absolute cold washed over the scene. The very air froze, and a shell of glacial ice, thick as castle walls, encased the mutated creature and the unstable energy within it. The terrifying light was snuffed out, the heat vanished, replaced by an arctic silence. Zuzu stood at the edge of the crater, her hands outstretched, breathing heavily from the monumental effort.
As the immediate danger passed, a figure cloaked in darkness, observing from a distant rooftop, looked down at the Cursed Doll in his hand. It trembled, then cracked, dissolving into nothingness. "As expected," the figure murmured, his voice a whisper lost to the wind. "Shiro and rael... a troublesome combination." He vanished into the shadows.
The scene shifted. The tension broken, Saturu dusted off his clothes casually. "I told you backup was coming."
Zuzu stormed over, her silver hair whipping around a face flushed with fury. "What kind of idiotic logic is that?! 'Backup'? You were about to throw a mana-overloaded cursed dragon... somewhere! Where, exactly? The residential district? The market?!"
Saturu simply began whistling an innocent tune, already starting to jog away. Shiro, catching on, immediately followed suit.
"Hey!" Zuzu yelled after them. "Who's going to clean up this mess?!"
In unison, without looking back, Shiro and Saturu gave a casual wave. "Bye-bye!"
Zuzu could only watch them flee, her hands clenched into fists. "Idiots! Both of you!"
---
The scene changed to a quiet, sterile room that served as the guild's nursery. Shiro and Saturu stood side-by-side, looking anywhere but at the guild leader, Ryo, who had his arms crossed, and Zuzu, who was tapping her foot impatiently.
Ryo sighed, a deep, weary sound. "So, let me get this straight. The proficiency assessment escalated into a fight with a half-elf, which then escalated into a battle against a Cursed-Doll-mutated-dragon-hybrid... and in the process, you broke his jaw, shattered six of his ribs, and caused structural damage to the eastern palace wall?"
Shiro and Saturu subtly tried to inch toward the door.
Zuzu's hand shot out, grabbing both by the collars. "Oh no, you don't. Answer the question."
Ryo rubbed his temples. "Well, the physical damage is nothing big that I can't handle. I've managed to heal him. But..." He gestured to the bed where Nihilastra lay, peaceful and unmarked, yet deeply unconscious. "He's still not waking up. It's been twelve hours."
Saturu's playful demeanor faded, replaced by a analytical focus. He stepped closer to the bed, his eyes scanning the sleeping form. "I think I know what's going on here," he said quietly. "The body is healed, but it's just a shell. The soul is missing."
A heavy silence fell over the room.
"The bad news," Saturu continued, his voice grim, "is that if it's not returned to the body, the vital functions will shut down one by one. He'll die after the fourth day."
Shiro's face grew serious. The weight of the situation settled on him. A life was hanging in the balance, a consequence of a battle he couldn't avoid. He let out a long breath. "Well... good luck with that." He turned to leave, the emotional toll suddenly overwhelming.
"Oh, and one more thing," Ryo added, stopping him in his tracks. "Shiro, Saturu. Hikaru from the council wants to meet you both. Something about your new mission to investigate the source of the Cursed Doll."
Shiro's shoulders slumped. The color drained from his face. "Nooooo..." he moaned, the word drawn out in utter despair before his eyes rolled back and he fainted, collapsing to the floor in a dead faint.