You Already Won

Chapter 23: Reckless


The Umbra Behemoth wasn't just fighting.

It was dismantling the battlefield.

Its claws raked jagged trenches into the earth with each step, dragging up glowing red sparks that hissed and pulsed. Every movement left behind afterimages—phantom echoes of raw muscle and shadow. Its club, now fused with bone and molten steel, struck out in wide arcs, demolishing columns of ancient stone and sending shrapnel clattering in all directions.

The cave screamed under its rage.

The ceiling fractured, dust pouring like a waterfall. Cracks rippled across the ground as shockwaves pounded through it, making the terrain shift with every lurch.

Caroline dodged another explosive strike, barely—only to catch a glancing blow from a stray slab of rock, sending her tumbling across the uneven floor.

Her vision blurred. Red notifications danced across the edge of her UI.

HP: 36%

She grit her teeth.

Two tails left. Flickering and damaged.

Her regeneration was slowing, limited by her fading stamina. Her strength and reflexes were tied to her remaining health—and she was circling the drain.

Escape? Impossible.

The Umbra Behemoth was too fast. Too large. Too angry. It had adapted.

She stumbled, righted herself, then locked eyes with Jonathan.

He was no longer "North" in that moment.

He was wrath.

A streak of red and black lightning tore across the battlefield. His eyes burned like twin sparks in a storm as he moved—not running, but sliding through Ryun-conducted air, his feet barely touching the ground. Shadows screamed behind him. Ryun constructs—blunt and jagged—snapped into being around his arms. A spinning wheel of compressed aura.

He hurled one jagged crescent—into the Behemoth's shoulder, staggering it, before appearing directly behind it with a Ryun-forged club and slamming it into the monster's spine.

Caroline leapt in, her two remaining tails swirling like crimson drills.

"Ultimate Mode: Ashen Vortex—Release!!"

A red sigil circle bloomed beneath her. Her body spun as tails extended, slicing and burning in tandem with Jonathan's attacks. She flipped midair, kicked off his back, and landed an axe-kick coated in rune fire that sent the Umbra Behemoth's head crashing into the ground.

"NOW!" she screamed.

Jonathan growled, gripping a jagged pillar of Ryun and compressing it into a single, dense mass.

He slammed it down.

The Umbra Behemoth roared in pain as the combined force sent it plummeting through the stone—cave layers splitting beneath it like glass under a hammer.

But just as Caroline exhaled—

BOOM.

A pulse. Darker than shadow. Thicker than despair.

The Umbra Behemoth unleashed a dark pulse Ryun, laced with electrical shockwaves. The energy flooded the cavern, a blast of black and violet aura that ignited the air with static and force.

Jonathan barely raised a barrier before it cracked.

Caroline's tails flared defensively before shattering.

They were launched—slammed like dolls into the cave wall, then through it.

Stone crumbled. Ceilings groaned.

The Umbra Behemoth crawled out of the smoking crater it had been hurled into, jagged claws ripping through the stone as it dragged its bulk forward. Shadow dripped from its body like molten tar, its elongated limbs twitching with lingering electricity.

Its horns scraped the ceiling of the shattered cavern. Charred bone jutted from its spine like obsidian spears, and its hollow, glowing eyes scanned the ruins with a predator's hatred.

The moment it stood upright, it roared—not in pain, but in triumph.

"Time to massacre all those who hunted us," it hissed in a language older than spoken words, "and took our women…"

It took a step forward—then froze.

A wave of raw pressure hit it like a crashing tide.

Jonathan's aura had flared—not wide, not large, but deep. Focused. A compact storm of red and black lightning coiling around his bruised body like a vengeful god's whisper. The rubble beneath him cracked, and his lone eye glared through the blood and exhaustion, unshaken.

The behemoth paused. Not because it feared him.

But because—for a single heartbeat—it recognized him.

It knew that feeling. Not from memory, but from instinct. Something higher. Something older.

Then—

A green spiral screamed across the field.

The arrow whistled like a promise of death—elegant, swift, and unerring.

It struck the beast dead in the chest.

BOOM.

The resulting shockwave bent the wind around it and cracked the already wounded ground. A whiplash of emerald energy flared across the behemoth's body, coiling with jagged precision before exploding in a controlled burst that tore at its armor of bone and shadow.

The Umbra Behemoth staggered. Its massive feet dug into the rock to steady itself, but it leaned… slightly. For the first time since its resurrection, it felt cautious.

Jonathan looked up from the rubble, one eye nearly swollen shut, blood dripping from his chin—but the familiar flare of a green aura brought a grin to his cracked lips.

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"About damn time…" he muttered.

His Ryun flared in tandem, responding not to strength, but to hope.

The Umbra Behemoth snarled and turned its gaze toward the cliff edge above. There, perched with her bow still humming, was Sšurtinaui—calm, elegant, and lethal in silhouette. Her cloak fluttered as wind coiled around her, and her next arrow already nocked and glowing brighter.

Jonathan coughed, wiped the blood from his mouth, and smiled despite everything.

"It's my favorite person," he muttered with a laugh. "Glad you didn't miss the party."

The Umbra Behemoth reared up once more—this time not to kill out of arrogance, but out of fear.

Sšurtinaui vanished from the ledge in a blur of green wind as a beam of corrupted Ryun carved the air where she'd stood. The air buckled, snapping into pressureless vacuum for a second—before roaring back with a boom that shattered the stone.

She was already airborne, wind wrapping around her limbs like living armor. Her emerald Ryun trailed her like a serpent of light, weaving patterns through the cave's fractured ceiling as she dropped down toward the Umbra Behemoth.

The monster raised a claw to intercept her descent—but she spun midair, twisting past the strike with predatory grace. Her boot connected with its forearm, and the impact snapped a chunk of its bone plating clean off.

Green glyphs flickered across her body, activated fully—her aura spiked, honed and sharp, not wide. Precise. It wasn't a flood of power; it was a scalpel slicing through the dark.

With a mid-air flip, she landed on the beast's shoulder, palm glowing. In a single blink, she fired a Ryun arrow point-blank into the side of its face. The shot detonated, cracking its jawbone and sending it staggering sideways.

It roared—but she was already gone.

She slid down its back like a streak of green flame, dodging bone spikes and shadow tendrils, weaving between them with impossible agility. The Behemoth's massive tail whipped toward her—but she vaulted over it with a burst of Ryun-enhanced wind, flipping in midair.

As she descended once more, she summoned twin daggers of Ryun—the green energy forged into sleek, translucent blades shaped like crescent moons. She stabbed one into the monster's side as she slid past, carving a deep glowing trench through its obsidian hide. The other dagger she whipped into a reverse grip, and slashed upward, slicing the muscle near its ribs as she spun low to the ground.

The Umbra Behemoth stumbled. Its howl was half-choked.

A second later, it reared back its clawed arm to retaliate—but Sšurtinaui was already behind it, breathing light and crouched like a panther.

Jonathan—still catching his breath—stared with a mix of awe and amusement.

"Holy shit…" he muttered, then laughed as he wiped the blood from his nose. "Tell me that didn't look like Levi vs the Beast Titan."

Caroline, still recovering, groaned. "You're seriously making anime references right now?"

But even she had to admit it—Sšurtinaui moved like a blade given purpose. A hurricane in the shape of a woman.

The Umbra Behemoth roared again—wounded, furious, and humiliated.

But now, it was bleeding from half a dozen clean, glowing gashes.

And the hunter wasn't even winded.

The Umbra Behemoth reared back, then unleashed a massive pulse of dark Ryun, a sweeping AOE that tore through the air like a rolling black tide. The shockwave blasted everything in its radius—shattering rock, warping the air, and throwing both Caroline and Jonathan backward as the ground sank.

Sšurtinaui, however, phased through it in a blink of green shimmer. Her body blurred and dematerialized, slipping through the attack like mist—but the effort drained her. She landed in the hole in a crouch, breathing hard, her aura visibly dimming.

The Behemoth saw its chance.

Tendrils—sharp and barbed with bone—shot toward her. She dodged deftly, leaping back across crumbling rock. A near-miss nicked her arm, but she never slowed.

Above them, Caroline staggered upright, cloak in tatters. She limped toward the hole. Jonathan, bruised and bloody, caught her by the arm.

"Chill," he said, panting. "You're at, like, what—1 HP?"

"Fifteen," she growled, brushing his hand off. Her voice was hoarse, but her eyes still burned. "And I'm still standing."

Jonathan gave a half-laugh, half-cough. "I'm not saying don't hop in."

She looked at him sideways.

"It's your life," he said simply. Then nodded down toward the battle. "Besides… we gotta 100% your quest, right?"

She grinned. "Damn right."

With reckless momentum, they dove into the crater.

Several levels down, the Umbra Behemoth was in full fury. The cave floor splintered and buckled beneath its sheer weight. It slammed its fists and sent blasts of kinetic force through the tunnels, but Sšurtinaui was still in motion—dodging, slashing, dancing in tight quarters.

But even she knew she was losing ground. If I had room, she thought, a few charged arrows and a phantasm would end this. Instead, the Behemoth pressed harder. Its brute strength paired with seemingly endless Ryun made it a brutal, draining opponent.

Then came the shouting.

"YOU OVERGROWN MUTANT DONKEY!"

"YEAH, YOU LOOK LIKE A FUNGAL WART!"

Both the Behemoth and Sšurtinaui paused. Caroline and Jonathan crashed into the cavern, yelling insults like they were storming a voice chat lobby.

The Behemoth roared in confusion, opening its mouth to fire another beam.

Jonathan moved first—princess-carrying Caroline, zigzagging along the jagged walls. He dropped her behind a stone ridge and turned back, distracting the beast with erratic movement and blasts of crackling red-black Ryun.

Tendrils whipped toward him, and a shadowy beam tracked his movement.

Caroline, breath ragged, clenched her fingers and popped a charm from her game arsenal. Her magic gauge flared, and she activated Soulkindle.

A red, rope-like net wrapped itself around the Behemoth's head, sizzling with sigils. The Behemoth thrashed violently, its scream muffled and distorted.

Sšurtinaui blinked, then understood instantly.

An opening.

She summoned a single arrow, but this one burned with deep, primal Ryun. As she pulled the string, the arrow expanded, warping the air with its sheer density. It pulsed an emerald-green light that darkened the cavern walls.

She whispered Words of Power, barely audible.

The arrow fired.

It streaked toward the Behemoth's chest—only for the monster to catch it with both hands, halting it just before impact. Its strength was immense, and it was pushing the shot back.

Even as the Soulkindle burned into its face, its fury was returning.

But then it froze.

It felt it again. That presence. The intent.

Jonathan descended like a reaper—bubbling with red and black aura, crimson light casting demonic shadows on his face. His right hand pulsed with blood and energy, his veins glowing.

He reached for the arrow.

And corrupted it.

The green Ryun fused with his blood and blackened, twisting into a dark spear, thick with weight and malice. Tendrils shot at him—but his blood caught them midair, burning and binding them in place.

The Behemoth's body convulsed.

And then the spear pierced through, erupting from its back in a shower of ichor and dark flame.

A soundless tremor pulsed through the cave.

For one final second, the Umbra Behemoth tried to scream.

And then it crumbled into dust, its form erased—its soul obliterated.

All was quiet.

Jonathan dropped to one knee, blood pooling under him.

Caroline collapsed to her side, laughing through broken breaths.

Sšurtinaui stood still, arrow still half-drawn, mouth slightly open.

"Well," Caroline wheezed. "That's one way to end a quest."

Sšurtinaui stood frozen, her fingers still wrapped around the notched arrow that would never need to be loosed. Her eyes narrowed as she watched Jonathan kneeling in the spreading pool of blood—his own blood, she realized with a chill. It steamed, whispering up in curls of crimson mist, sizzling against the broken stone beneath him.

His head hung low. Shoulders trembling.

"North?" Caroline's voice was tentative as she stepped forward, her body limping, her tails flickering with weak embers.

No answer.

Sšurtinaui, still trying to catch her breath, tilted her head and tried to break the tension with a tired smirk. "How many more secrets are you hiding, Kingling?"

It was meant to tease.

But then the air cracked.

Jonathan screamed.

A raw, soul-ripping sound that tore through the chamber and echoed like a wounded beast clawing at the heavens. His head jerked up—and they both recoiled.

His eyes were pitch black, soaked with endless void, the irises barely visible—blood-red cracks running like spiderwebs from his temples down to his jaw. His veins pulsed with the same malevolent hue, and where the blood had once simply flowed, now it seethed—creeping up his limbs like vines of molten corruption.

"Jonathan!" Caroline shouted, taking another step—but her body flinched as the heat rolled off him in waves. The blood wasn't just steaming anymore—it was boiling.

His hands clenched against the rock, nails digging grooves into the stone. His breath came in rasps, short and broken, like he was drowning in something unseen. The aura around him had changed—it was no longer wild and reckless. It was hungry. A living thing.

Sšurtinaui's expression shifted from wariness to cold calculation. She felt it too. The shift.

The blood… was consuming him.

And it wasn't just physical—it was metaphysical. Whatever this force was, it had ties not just to his power, but to his soul.

"Get back," she said sharply to Caroline.

"But—"

"Back."

A pulse of Ryun flared in her hand, and she drew a second arrow, this one humming low and green.

Because if this wasn't Jonathan anymore…

They might have to put him down.

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