The adventurers listened to Vivian and nodded in agreement. They picked up the wagon and rushed back into the town.
Now it was just the two of them.
Prometheus readjusted his bow and glanced up towards Vivian, she still looked drained.
His mana reserves were slowly recovering; if they faced trouble, then it was going to be up to him to get them out.
"Let's go," Vivian said, and without much hesitation, they dashed into the forest. Both figures moved fast and nimble, their expressions stiffening as they witnessed the full scale of destruction. Web-like cracks spread indiscriminately across the soil, a large part of the battlefield slowly devoured by frostbite.
As they ran, their eyes darted around the surroundings, looking for anything that could point towards the sword saint's direction. They passed by the body of the vine beast, its mutilated corpse still bleeding profusely, with slight traces of its erasing mana.
They nearly froze in place. Even while dead, the traces of mana left behind by the creature showed that it had not been an easy opponent to face against.
So what price had Elaine paid to kill it? Did she even have mana left?
They couldn't help but wonder, grim expressions settling on their faces. They needed to find her fast; from what the kid had told them, the humanoid beast didn't sound like an opponent to be underestimated.
Rushing past a different section of the woods, a silver glint caught Prometheus's eye. He stopped mid-sprint, changed direction, and dashed towards it. Vivian followed behind in an instant.
He approached the item that had caught his eye and bent down to pick it up. It was a long sword—a silver blade with a snow-white guard and a golden pommel. It belonged to the sword saint.
The blade was chipped around its edges, with a crack running through its centre.
The sight of the nearly shattered blade drastically plummeted the atmosphere between the two, not colder in a sense of chill, but a quiet dread that clutched at their hearts.
'No… a broken sword didn't mean she was dead.'
They couldn't let despair creep into their hearts so easily. It was Elaine—the Sword Saint. She was too strong to die like this.
Prometheus voiced it internally, trying to reassure himself.
But even subconsciously, the thought that kept coming back to him was—what if her opponent was stronger?
His speculation had no way of proving whether she had survived or not. That was why they had to continue forward.
The blade might have brought them a shallow sense of uncertainty, but it also pointed them in a clear direction now.
Prometheus got back up, the blade still in hand, and with a silent agreement from Vivian, they rushed deeper into the woods.
The sword saint stood, her golden eyes never leaving her opponent. The humanoid beast thrashed around in the water, its own icy aura restricting it from getting any closer to her.
The attacks still came, sudden and unprepared for. Its pale skin had turned purple around its ribs, and one of its eyes was badly swollen. The madness behind them still burned despite the wounds.
"HUMAN!!! I'LL KILL YOU!" it roared, thrashing its arms wildly.
The sword saint showed no reaction and continued her unseen assault. Even though the wind element was nearly visible to the naked eye, it could still be sensed.
A distortion in the air's frequency could be felt by anyone keen enough to notice—but a distortion in space couldn't be realised unless one possessed the same affinity.
Through immense focus and a risky gamble with her mana, Elaine had been canceling out the space that separated her and the creature for a split second. Each time, the mana drain was astronomical.
The strain on her body and mind felt worse, both had to work in perfect sync, like a singular element.
The technique was something she had figured out in theory but had never performed in battle. Using it against the creature had been a gamble. The spatial rift could have collapsed on her first attempt, killing her instantly. But it didn't. Her determination to emerge victorious far surpassed her fear of failure.
To the beast, she never moved. The insanity that plagued its mind couldn't allow a sliver of reasoning. Yet, even within that madness, a realisation was born.
It didn't need to understand it. All it needed was to counter it.
A strike landed on its side and sent its body skidding through the river. The current's pull felt stronger around it, and a single glance behind it told why.
It was metres away from the waterfall.
The beast refocused the icy mist around it into what looked like an intangible dome. The mist that had thrashed wildly in the water now looked structured—controlled, purposeful.
The sword saint, preparing for another attack, saw the misty dome and hesitated. She couldn't tell what purpose it served. Now that it wasn't actively freezing the river, she could tell the current was affecting the beast.
She had the advantage. The beast didn't possess an affinity for space, it couldn't prepare for her attacks. If she had still been with her sword, this would have likely ended by now. A slice to the neck was always better than a punch to the gut.
She exhaled and activated the technique.
For a split second, the rift opened, negating the space between her and the creature. But in that same instant she stepped in—
Her body was violently thrown out.
The sword saint's form snapped back as if struck by a boulder and plunged into the water. Clear water flooded her lungs before she could drag herself back up.
The world blurred, a cacophony of ringing noise filled her ears, and her mind felt like it had shattered into countless fragments.
Yet through the chaos…
the beast's expression was clear.
Smug.
Whatever it had done had caused the spatial rift to collapse, and now she faced the backlash.
What went wrong?