The Hydra let out another cry, its massive body undulating violently as though its awakening had only fueled its fury. Its tail swayed behind it—heavy, menacing—striking the ground at irregular intervals.

  Alynia placed her right hand on Veil’s shoulder, who was still standing in front of her. A faint smile brushed her lips.

  “I’ll take care of it. We need to end this, quickly,” she said calmly.

  Veil turned to her, ready to object.

  “Wait, don’t—”

  But Alynia was already moving. Her face twisted with effort, her body struggling to obey her will. Before Veil could say another word—or stop her—she darted toward the Hydra.

  Watching her, he understood too late.

  Her movements had grown too sluggish.

  She wasn’t in any condition to face that monster.

  The Hydra, having spotted her, lowered its head with a deep growl. Alynia tried to slide out of its path.

  Veil screamed.

  “Move! NOW!”

  But her reflexes were too slow. The creature’s tail whipped forward and struck Alynia squarely. The impact twisted her mid-air before slamming her toward the pillars.

  Veil reacted instantly, propelling himself forward with a gust of wind. He caught her just in time, moments before she collided with the stone column.

  She looked at him, tears in her eyes, one hand pressed tightly to her side.

  “I’m sorry…” she murmured weakly.

  Veil gently laid her on the ground. He moved her hand aside and uncovered a bleeding wound across her abdomen. He looked up at her.

  “Don’t move. You’re in no shape for this,” he said, firm and sharp.

  He was about to say more, but the Hydra’s tail sliced through the air and struck him in turn. The force knocked the breath from his lungs and sent him flying several meters away.

  The pain was sharp. Alynia screamed, heartbroken.

  “LITTLE WOLF!”

  Her voice, ragged, reignited the pain in her side. She desperately scanned the area for him.

  When she saw him getting up—panting, face contorted in pain—she tried to rise, trembling. But Veil raised a hand toward her, pointing at a nearby column.

  “Take cover there. Don’t move,” he ordered, his tone unyielding.

  Alynia wanted to argue, but met his eyes. She understood better than to resist.

  “I’ve seen worse since I’ve been with you…” he added with quiet confidence. “Let me handle it. Just this once.”

  He turned his gaze back to the Hydra, fully focused. Meanwhile, Alynia dragged herself toward the nearest pillar to shield herself.

  The Hydra had noticed her. Its head swiveled toward her, body rippling as it began to close the distance.

  Veil slipped under its massive frame, dagger in hand. He tried to cut into the beast’s scales, but they were far too thick for a mere blade.

  The Hydra turned its attention away from Alynia, locking its burning gaze onto Veil.

  It lunged, head plunging to crush him.

  Veil, mid-sprint, narrowly avoided the impact, but the Hydra’s massive body crashed down with a dull, thunderous boom. The ground cracked beneath the force, throwing him off balance and nearly sending him sprawling.

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  The Hydra didn’t pause—it swung its tail again. Veil dove flat onto his stomach, narrowly dodging the strike.

  The blow passed so close he felt it graze him, the rush of cold air from the impact making him shiver. He sprang back to his feet, eyes locked on the beast as it lifted its head, jaws opening in a piercing cry that seemed to shake the very air.

  Veil felt the ground tremble beneath his feet. The echo still reverberated as he seized the moment—while the Hydra’s head was turned upward—to launch another attack.

  But just like before, his blade merely grazed the monster’s scales.

  No cut. No opening.

  The Hydra lowered its head again, eyes fixed squarely on him. Then it lunged.

  Veil surged forward, propelled by a gust of wind—but the creature halted its charge just before hitting the ground, eyes never leaving him. Its tail hissed through the air.

  Veil saw it coming from a distance.

  What he didn’t expect was one of the ice shards clinging to its tail to snap off, hurled by the force of the swing. He ducked swiftly, but the shard nicked his back, carving a shallow gash across his skin.

  “Tch... She’s seriously starting to piss me off,” he growled through gritted teeth.

  Alynia, still hidden behind the pillar, didn’t shout. She clenched her jaw tightly.

  “Be careful…” she murmured to herself.

  Veil couldn’t hear her. But she watched him fight alone, her gut twisting with helplessness. It tore her apart to stay back, but in her state, she would only be another burden.

  The ice shard shattered against a column, piercing through the stone in a burst of fragments. Veil rose, frustration etched across his face. He locked eyes with the Hydra.

  “What else are you hiding, huh?” he muttered, irritation building.

  He broke into a run, veering away from Alynia’s position. He didn’t want to draw danger near her.

  The Hydra, meanwhile, had stopped attacking. It watched him carefully, as if calculating the best moment to strike.

  Veil tried to take advantage of the lull, closing in once more—but suddenly, a thick, white mist burst from the creature’s scales.

  It spread fast, forcing Veil to fall back. The air around him turned bitterly cold. A strange sensation washed over him, like fine blades brushing against his skin.

  He clenched his teeth. He didn’t want to waste his magic recklessly. Draining his energy here and now would be a death sentence.

  “Think. How can I reach it…” he whispered between clenched teeth.

  No matter how he looked at it, his blade couldn’t pierce the monster’s armor. And when he wrapped it in wind, he drained himself faster and weakened the weapon.

  “If I’m going to do it... it has to work,” he muttered, eyes fixed on the Hydra.

  He scanned its body, searching—desperately—for a weak point.

  “Can’t even get close... then what the hell do I do,” he said under his breath.

  His gaze shifted to Alynia. She was watching his every move, ears twitching at the slightest sound, her face drawn tight from the pain.

  The Hydra suddenly sprang into action. Sensing Veil’s brief distraction, it slammed its head toward him.

  He dodged in time, but the ground exploded mere inches away, sending a rain of shattered stone cascading around him. The debris ricocheted violently, pelting the area.

  Alynia, still crouched behind her pillar, held her breath through every assault. She was afraid. Afraid something might happen to him. Her jaw trembled.

  “I can’t attack… but I have to find a way to help…” she murmured tensely.

  Her eyes scanned the creature in desperate search of anything useful—but all she saw was an impenetrable shell.

  Then she remembered. The crystal. That strange crystal embedded at the top of its head.

  “That might be it…” she whispered, her voice shaking.

  She rose slightly, eyes scanning the area... then finally spotted Veil.

  “Little Wolf! Aim for the crystal on its head! Try to break it!” she shouted.

  Veil looked up at her, then at the Hydra.

  “And how exactly am I supposed to do that?! I can’t even get close—not from the front, not when it’s grounded!” he shouted back.

  As the two of them struggled to find a solution, the Hydra slowly straightened up. Its immense body stretched to its full height, each segment of its spine clicking with a dry, grinding sound. It held still for a few seconds. Then its gaze locked onto Veil.

  He didn’t know what it was about to do—but his instincts didn’t lie.

  “Fall back—get to the door!” he yelled, panic in his voice.

  Alynia didn’t know what the creature was preparing either, but the urgency in Veil’s voice pushed her to obey. She retreated reluctantly, one hand pressed tightly against her wound.

  Veil backed off as well, weaving between one column and the next. Whatever was coming, he needed cover. Fast. He threw himself behind one of the stone pillars, breath short, senses sharpened to a razor’s edge.

  A high-pitched whistle tore through the air. The Hydra let itself fall—plummeting downward at terrifying speed, slicing through the atmosphere with crushing force.

  Veil sprang from his hiding spot, sprinting toward the door.

  The impact was instant.

  The crash shook the entire chamber. The ground quaked as though it might split open beneath them. Shards of frost burst in every direction, columns cracked under the shockwave, and a white mist spread outward, smothering everything in a freezing dust.

  The roar of destruction faded into a heavy, echoing silence.

  Then, in the heart of that silence, a howl rose—long, furious, guttural.

  The Hydra, blinded by rage, released dozens of ice shards from its body.

  They shot out in all directions, piercing walls and columns alike.

  Each impact left craters behind, pulverizing stone with monstrous force.

  Then suddenly—silence fell once more, deep and suffocating.

  Only a few fragments were still falling to the shattered ground, their muffled clinks the only sounds remaining.

  Visibility had dropped to zero. The frost-dust clouded everything.

  “Little Wolf! Where are you?!” Alynia shouted, panic-stricken.

  The pillar she had sheltered behind was half-destroyed. She leaned against it, scanning for Veil through the swirling haze, breath shallow and rapid.

  A voice rang out through the mist.

  “I’m here. Are you okay, Alynia?” he asked, breathless.

  Relief hit her instantly.

  “Yes… I’m fine,” she replied softly.

  But they had no time to breathe.

  Another growl began to build. Then came the first BOOM.

  A second.

  A third.

  Heavy, repeated impacts.

  A thunderous sound, as if the very stone was collapsing around them.

  The Hydra had begun striking the pillars, sweeping the area with its massive tail. It smashed everything in Veil’s direction, relentlessly.

  One. Two. Three more collapsed in clouds of dust and debris.

  Seven, eight pillars shattered in rapid succession, crushed under a merciless rhythm.

  Then, silence.

  Veil watched it slowly rise.

  Its jaws opened, releasing a long exhale of white steam. Its breathing quickened. Icy wisps escaped from its throat like smoke from a reversed forge.

  Then it roared.

  A shockwave burst from its body, sweeping away the mist and clearing the battlefield in one breath. The air was suddenly clear again.

  And then—they saw it.

  The Hydra’s body no longer bore a single shard of ice.

  It had rid itself of everything that had been weighing it down.

  As if it had finally shed a useless burden.

  Alynia clenched her right fist, then slowly turned her head toward Veil.

  “We have to do something,” she said, her voice trembling.

  Veil knew. She was right. But how? How do you strike a creature like that?

  Every attack brought chaos—chaos he could no longer afford.

  Think… We’ve made it this far. There has to be a way… he muttered under his breath.

  But he didn’t get the chance to think further.

  The Hydra had turned its head.

  Its eyes were locked on Alynia.

  It slithered forward, then charged straight at her.

  Veil understood in an instant.

  It had changed targets.

  “No…” he breathed, throat tight.

  It had chosen Alynia.

  It was done playing with Veil’s evasions.

  Now it lunged without hesitation at a weakened prey—one too wounded to react.

  As it rushed in, the Hydra raised its head to strike.

  Veil was already moving, mana surging into his legs.

  He had no choice now.

  He had to act. Right now.

  Or Alynia wouldn’t survive the blow.

  This had to end—now.