Chapter 32: Too Weak for This World

Jane spun away from the smoking wreckage behind her, the echo of the Elite’s death still ringing through her bones. The roar, the collapse, the silence that followed. None of it mattered.

Only one name did.

“LYNIS!”

The word tore out of her throat, raw and unrestrained, scraped straight from panic. She broke into a sprint, boots skidding across shattered glass and loose stone as she crossed the street. The storefront loomed ahead like an open wound, its metal frame bent inward, its display window obliterated into jagged shards that glittered weakly beneath the ash-choked sky.

Smoke rolled from the darkness inside.

Jane burst through the threshold without slowing.

The interior was devastated, given shape. The far wall had collapsed inward, leaving a crater of broken concrete and twisted rebar. At its center lay Lynis.

Half-buried. Broken.

His black armor was warped at unnatural angles, plates crushed inward as if something massive had tried to fold him in half. Blood pooled beneath his body, dark and thick, seeping into the fractured floor and spreading steadily outward.

Jane’s breath caught painfully in her chest.

She crossed the distance in three strides and dropped to her knees beside him, hands hovering for a split second before fear overrode hesitation.

“Lynis, talk to me,” she said urgently, her voice shaking despite her effort to steady it.

“Gah…” Lynis groaned weakly. His breath rasped, each inhale forced. Blood slipped from the corner of his mouth, staining his chin. “I think… I think something broken.”

He tried to push himself up.

The attempt failed instantly.

A sharp cry tore from his throat as his body collapsed back into the rubble, pain ripping through him hard enough to steal the air from his lungs.

“Don’t move,” Jane ordered, panic bleeding through her command.

Her hand flashed upward, and a small glass flask materialized in her grip. Inside it, red liquid glowed faintly, warm and alive. She uncorked it quickly and pressed it gently to Lynis’s lips.

“Drink slowly,” she said. “It’s a healing potion. Don’t waste a single drop.”

Lynis turned his head weakly, breath hitching.

“No,” he gasped. “Save it. Can heal naturally. Give me few days.”

Something in Jane snapped.

She grabbed his jaw with sudden force, fingers digging in as she forced his face back toward hers. Her hands trembled, but her grip was iron. When she spoke again, her voice dropped into a deadly calm.

“You’re bleeding internally, you idiot.”

She pressed the flask harder against his mouth.

“Now drink.”

For a heartbeat, Lynis stared at her. At the fear she was trying and failing to hide, there was a resolve burning behind her eyes.

Then he gave in.

He drank.

The red liquid vanished down his throat, and moments later, soft green wisps of light wrapped around his body. Translucent plus signs flickered briefly in the air before fading as the potion took hold. His breathing deepened. The wet rattle in his lungs disappeared. The agony carved into his face softened into something closer to relief.

Jane did not let go.

Her gaze drifted instinctively past him.

At the far end of the store, a human corpse was pinned grotesquely to the wall. The torso had been shredded beyond recognition, ribs torn open as a thick vine burst from the remains. At its end, a pale white flower bloomed, pulsing faintly with sick energy, as if still feeding.

Jane swallowed.

Then a voice spoke behind her.

“Impressive.”

Jane stiffened instantly, muscles locking as she snapped her head around.

“Most Newborn hunters would have fled at the sight of that.”

Violet stood casually near the shattered entrance, leaning against broken stone as if the ground were not soaked in blood. She flipped a dagger into the air and caught it cleanly by the hilt, her expression bored.

Her black hair, streaked with green, was tied into neat twin tails. Freckles dusted her cheeks, giving her a deceptively innocent look that clashed sharply with the predatory glint in her amber eyes. She pushed herself off and walked over to the corpse.

“How long have you been standing there?” Jane asked coldly.

“Long enough,” Violet replied lightly, “to watch you waste a mid-grade healing potion on someone who could’ve healed naturally in a day or two.”

“Get out,” Jane said flatly.

Violet smiled. A thin, sharp curve that never reached her eyes. She stopped right in front of the corpse and slashed downwards with her dagger.

The white flower fell cleanly into her waiting palm.

“The old man Xander sent me to retrieve you,” she said, ignoring the dismissal as the white flower vanished into her inventory. “It’s not safe to linger. The scent of an Elite’s blood draws everything nearby.” She tilted her head. “So we can do this the easy way, or the fun way.”

Jane clenched her jaw.

She turned back to Lynis and extended her arm. “Give me your hand.”

Lynis did not hesitate. He grabbed her forearm and hauled himself up with a grunt, throwing an arm over her shoulder as she took his weight.

Violet shrugged, smirking. “Fair enough.”

–

Across the street, Old Man Xander stood over Jagger’s broken body.

With a quiet tap of his staff, he nudged the kobold leader’s corpse aside. Jagger sucked in a wet, gurgled breath, his body convulsing weakly.

“You are in terrible shape, boy,” Xander said calmly. “That creature did a number on your arms and ribs.”

His eyes swept over the damage. The shattered forearm bent at the wrong angle. The deep bite wounds. Jagged claw marks ripped across Jagger’s chest and ribs, flesh torn open and oozing freely. Blood soaked into the ground beneath him, pooling faster than it could clot.

Jagger’s eyes were wide and bloodshot. He tried to speak.

Instead, he coughed.

Dark blood spilled from his lips.

“There is no saving you,” Xander said, rising to his feet. “You’ve lost too much blood.”

He turned away.

Porpo’s footsteps came fast.

She vaulted over the hood of a wrecked car and slid to a stop beside Jagger, her eyes widening as she took in the damage.

“Oi! Old man, can’t you do something?” she demanded, voice cracking as she looked between Xander and Jagger’s mangled form. “You’re…”

“I am a mage,” Xander cut in. “Not a healer.”

Heavy footsteps approached.

Park stopped beside them, massive and unmoved. He nudged the dead kobold with his boot, then looked down at Jagger.

“We are not gods,” Park said with a low smirk. He glanced at Xander. “He’s dead, kid. Wasting a high-grade healing potion on him isn’t an option.”

The warnings flashed across Jagger’s vision.

[WARNING: Hunter is losing too much blood.]

[WARNING: Hunter is in the Critical Condition state.]

The world began to fragment.

“What do you mean?” Porpo snapped, her usual detachment shattering. “You can’t just…”

“Por…po…” Jagger breathed. The word barely carried sound. “I’m… sorry…”

His vision blurred violently. Ruined storefronts smeared together, edges bleeding into one another as if reality itself were melting. Figures loomed above him, stretched and distorted. Blood-slick asphalt dissolved into shadow. Sound dulled, retreating into a hollow echo that rang somewhere far away.

“Too bad, kid,” Park said flatly. “You’re just too weak for this new world.”

That was when Porpo grabbed him.

“Hey. Jagger. Stay with me.” Her voice cut through the fog, sharp with urgency. She shook him, gently at first, then harder. “Don’t you dare fade on cunt.”

But he was already slipping.

A strange sensation washed over him. Not cold. Not pain. Absence. As if something vital were being scooped out from the inside.

His hearing collapsed into a low hum.

Then vanished entirely.

Darkness took him.

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