Chapter 118: He’s not breathing

Ken rubbed the back of his head, posture small. He looked like a child who’d been caught sneaking out past curfew, his usual confidence completely stripped away. Blood still streaked his face, and his body was covered in cuts and bruises, but it was the shame in his expression that was most visible. He opened his mouth, probably to offer some kind of explanation or excuse, but the words died before they could form.

Olmo cut the moment short, stating flatly that the discussion would come later. His voice was cold, detached, leaving no room for argument. “We’ll talk about this after,” he said, his eyes still fixed on the ihes. “Right now, focus.”

He pointed, directing Mira, Jelo, and Ken to handle one ihe while he took the other. The gesture was casual, almost dismissive, as if he were assigning homework rather than orchestrating a life-or-death battle. “You three take the one on the left. Don’t get in my way.”

There was no debate. No questions. They simply moved, repositioning themselves to face the lighter-scaled ihe while Olmo turned toward the darker one.

Steel flashed as Olmo drew two daggers, his body already moving. The weapons appeared in his hands as if from nowhere, gleaming blades that seemed almost alive in his grip. He closed the distance in a single step, covering ground that should have taken three or four strides. His speed was inhuman, impossible, and the ihe barely had time to react before he was upon it.

He slashed low, then high, forcing the ihe back with precise, brutal strikes. The first blade cut across the creature’s thigh, drawing a line of dark blood. The second came up toward its throat, and the ihe jerked backward to avoid being decapitated. Every movement Olmo made was controlled, efficient. There was no wasted motion, no unnecessary flourish. Each blade cut exactly where the creature committed, exploiting every opening the moment it appeared.

The ihe tried to counter, its claws lashing out, but Olmo was already gone, sliding beneath the strike and coming up behind it. His dagger plunged into the creature’s side, twisted, and withdrew before the ihe could even register the pain.

It was like watching a master at work. Olmo moved with a fluidity and precision that made the fight look choreographed, as if every action had been planned down to the smallest detail. The ihe, despite its strength and speed, was being dismantled piece by piece.

Meanwhile, the other ihe lunged at the group. It came in fast and aggressive, clearly hoping to overwhelm them before they could organize a proper defense. Its claws swept toward Mira, aiming to tear her apart in a single strike.

Mira split once, a single clone sprinting wide while the real Mira rushed straight in. The division happened in an instant, seamless and practiced. The ihe’s eyes flickered between the two targets, momentarily confused about which to prioritize.

The clone drew the tail strike, barely dodging. The thick, muscular appendage whipped through the air where the clone had been a heartbeat earlier, missing by inches. The clone stumbled but kept moving, pulling the ihe’s attention to the side.

While Mira landed rapid blows at the joints. She came in low and fast, her fists striking at the creature’s knees, elbows, and shoulders—places where the scales were thinner and the flesh more vulnerable. Each hit was sharp and precise, designed to limit mobility rather than deal massive damage. She wasn’t trying to kill it. She was trying to slow it down.

Jelo followed, fists burning, hammering fire into its ribs, forcing it to stagger. His punches came in heavy and fast, each one accompanied by an explosion of flame. The impacts echoed through the street, and the ihe’s body jerked with each blow. Fire scorched its side, leaving black marks across the smooth scales. The creature snarled, trying to turn on Jelo, but Mira was already there, striking from another angle, keeping it off balance.

Ken attacked from the rear, shadows binding its legs just long enough for Jelo to strike again. The darkness coiled around the ihe’s ankles like chains, pulling tight and locking it in place. Ken poured everything he had into maintaining the hold, his teeth gritted, sweat pouring down his face. He didn’t have much left—maybe seconds—but it was enough.

Jelo took the opening. His fist crashed into the ihe’s jaw with devastating force, flames erupting on impact. The creature’s head snapped to the side, and it stumbled, its balance faltering.

The ihe thrashed, breaking free. The shadows around its legs shattered like glass, and Ken collapsed to one knee, gasping for breath. But they pressed harder. There was no time to recover, no time to regroup. They had momentum now, and they couldn’t let it slip.

Mira and her clone struck in perfect sync. They came from opposite sides, their fists slamming into the ihe’s torso simultaneously. The double impact drove the air from the creature’s lungs, and it wheezed, staggering backward.

Jelo drove fireballs through its chest. He didn’t hold back. Every ounce of fire energy he had left poured into those attacks, each one exploding with enough force to crack stone. The ihe’s body jerked with each hit, its scales cracking, blood seeping from the wounds.

And Ken released everything he has left, shadows crushing inward until the creature collapsed. The darkness wrapped around the ihe like a vice, squeezing from all sides. Ken screamed with the effort, his entire body trembling, veins standing out on his neck and forehead. The shadows compressed tighter and tighter, crushing bone and flesh, until finally, with a sickening crunch, the ihe’s body gave out.

It collapsed to the ground, lifeless.

Ken fell immediately after, his body hitting the dirt as the last of his strength left him. He lay there, chest heaving, unable to move, barely able to breathe.

Jelo stood over the fallen creature, breathing hard, his fists still smoldering. Mira’s clone dissipated, and she swayed on her feet, exhausted but alive.

Olmo finished his own opponent moments later, blades crossing through its neck. The movement was almost casual, a simple X-shaped slash that severed the creature’s head cleanly from its body. The ihe didn’t even have time to react. One moment it was fighting, and the next it was dead.

The head hit the ground with a dull thud, followed by the body collapsing in a heap. Dark blood pooled around it, staining the street.

Olmo stood over the corpse for a moment, his daggers still gleaming in the harsh sunlight. Then, with a flick of his wrists, he cleaned the blades and made them vanish, tucking them away somewhere unseen. His breathing was steady, his posture relaxed. He looked completely unbothered, as if he’d just finished a light workout rather than killing a creature that had nearly murdered Ken and Atlas.

Silence fell.

The battle was over. The two ihes lay dead, their bodies broken and still. The street was littered with debris, scorched stone, and blood—both human and alien. The air was thick with the smell of burnt flesh and ozone.

For a moment, no one moved. They were all too exhausted, too shocked by what had just happened. Jelo stood there, swaying slightly, his mind struggling to catch up with reality. They’d won. Somehow, against all odds, they’d survived.

But the relief was short-lived.

Mira turned, her breath catching as she looked at Atlas. Her eyes widened, and her face went pale. She stumbled toward him, dropping to her knees beside his motionless form.

Then she shouted that he was not breathing. Her voice cracked with panic, raw and desperate. “He’s not breathing! Atlas isn’t breathing!”​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​​

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