Chapter 58: [DON’T STOP LOOKING]

Eli’s mind was racing.

He sifted through possibilities, strategies, desperate half-formed plans—only to circle back to the same one every time.

It was risky. Reckless. And it would put Caelen in far more danger than he liked.

But they didn’t have the luxury of holding back anymore.

Not against this.

The priest was a fortress in itself, its sheer bulk and reach making it untouchable with just swordsmanship. Caelen’s physical skill alone wouldn’t bring it down.

They needed his ability—at its peak.

Eli exhaled through his nose, eyes still locked on the gargoyles, keeping them frozen. “Can you keep taking hits from the priest?”

Caelen didn’t answer right away. His gaze slid back to the looming statue, golden eyes narrowing, jaw flexing. The weight in that silence was almost as heavy as the air in the chamber.

Finally, he spoke. “So… how much pain are we talking about?”

Eli didn’t even hesitate. “Enough to trigger your Golden Aurora Drive.”

The stillness that followed was thick. For a heartbeat, Caelen didn’t move—then, slowly, one brow lifted in quiet surprise. “…You even know about that?”

“I do.” Eli’s voice stayed even, though he fought the urge to glance over his shoulder. “When you fully charge it, your golden energy bursts outward. The battlefield becomes yours—untouchable, relentless, merciless.”

A short, sharp laugh slipped past Caelen’s lips—not mocking, but edged with amusement and something almost predatory. “Impressive, sweetheart. But there’s a catch.”

“I know,” Eli cut in.

“You don’t,” Caelen countered, his tone sharpening. “Once I use it, I can’t store pain anymore. And after that… I’ll need a full day of rest before I can use my abilities again.”

“We have to risk it,” Eli said immediately.

“Correction—you want me to risk it.”

Eli’s jaw tightened. “Do you have a better plan?”

The pause was telling. Caelen raked a hand back through his dark hair, his exhale slow but deliberate. “No. And since I’m the one who dragged you here to ’test your skills and wits’…” His lips curved faintly. “I’ll listen. But that means you’re responsible for me, sweetheart.”

Eli rolled his eyes—not that Caelen could see it. “Fine. Then get moving before one of us dies standing here.”

A quiet chuckle rumbled from Caelen’s chest, followed by the deliberate scrape of his boots on cracked stone. The faint shift of steel in his grip was a whisper of intent in the air, like the promise of a coming storm.

The priest moved.

The massive rosary dipped forward, the chain clinking in deep, grinding notes, like ancient gears turning after centuries of stillness. But this time… its swing wasn’t wild.

It was measured.

Its free hand remained pressed to its stone chest, fingers curled as if clutching something unseen—guarding it.

’Only one hand on the weapon… Is that a choice, or a limitation?’

Dust sifted down from the ceiling as the priest’s glowing eyes narrowed on Caelen, calculating his movements. The next strike was coming.

Caelen lunged first, boots grinding into fractured stone, scattering shards like shrapnel. His movements were fast—predatory—but Eli’s Danger Detection wasn’t focused on himself.

It was flaring for Caelen.

“Two steps back—let it hit!” Eli barked without a second’s pause.

Caelen shifted just enough to let the massive bead smash into his left shoulder. The impact rang out with a sickening THUD

beneath the deep, echoing CRACK of stone.

The force made him stagger half a step, but he didn’t crumple—he took the blow, let it roll through his frame, and siphoned it straight into Aegis Nerve. Somewhere inside him, the golden reservoir swelled.

“Now—three strikes, upper right! Go!”

Steel sang through the stale air. Caelen’s sword blurred into three brutal arcs, carving gouges into the priest’s stone arm. Chips the size of fists rained down, clattering across the cracked floor like a storm of gravel.

Eli’s Danger Detection spiked again, sharp enough to make him grit his teeth. “Take the hit low!”

Caelen obeyed instantly, bending with the blow as the bead slammed into his side. The impact drove him halfway into the fractured floor with a crunch of breaking stone, but his stance held.

He absorbed it, knees coiled like springs, and the golden hum from his core deepened—low, resonant, dangerous.

’Good… just a little more.’

Eli still didn’t let himself look at him. His gaze was glued to the gargoyles, muscles strung tight, ready to lock them back into stillness the moment one twitched.

But his peripheral awareness painted the battle in fragments—the priest’s swings had found a rhythm, predictable in one way… and yet, every few strikes, it hesitated. Its other hand—the one pressed to its chest—never moved.

’Why keep that hand there? What’s it holding?’

“Hit the chain—redirect it!” Eli snapped.

Caelen twisted, blade biting into the rosary mid-swing.

The redirected force was catastrophic. The bead smashed into the chamber wall with a BOOM, splitting the stone from floor to ceiling. Dust billowed in choking waves, the air filling with grit.

The golden hum from Caelen’s body was louder now—like a living thing, straining to break free.

“Are you close?!” Eli shouted over the din.

“Almost—” Caelen started, but the shift came before he could finish.

Eli’s Danger Detection changed. No longer fixed on Caelen. No longer on the chain.

It was on him.

The feeling was suffocating—a cold, heavy pressure crawling over his skin like unseen claws. His heartbeat tripped. Someone—something—was staring directly at him.

No. Not someone.

The priest.

Its head had turned, slow and deliberate, its glowing eyes locking onto Eli like twin lanterns in the dark. His chest tightened. His instincts screamed at him to run.

“Caelen—the priest is—!” The words barely left his mouth before it happened.

The bead was still jammed into the wall, but the hand that had been pressed to its chest—the very one Eli had been questioning—snapped free in a blur of motion.

The speed was unnatural for something so massive.

The air cracked around its swing.

It came for him.

The hand was broad enough to crush him flat in a single strike.

Eli’s eyes went wide, body locking in a moment of raw, primal fear—

—but Caelen moved faster.

A blur of black and gold intercepted him, the sheer force of impact lifting Eli off-balance as Caelen’s palm shoved hard into his shoulder. “Don’t stop looking at the gargoyles!”

Then Caelen was gone.

The priest’s strike connected with him in full, sending his body hurtling across the chamber like a ragdoll. He slammed into the far wall with a bone-jarring CRASH, stone splintering outward from the impact.

“Caelen!” Eli’s voice tore out of him, raw and sharp, his pulse exploding in his ears.

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