* * *
The moment she realized something was wrong, her body lost all control and was violently pulled in by overwhelming telekinesis.
As the distance between them vanished in an instant, a piece of her pride crumbled to the ground.
The wind tangled her hair, slapping it against her cheek.
The man, who hadn’t lifted a single finger as he tightened his grip around her throat with invisible force, simply parted his lips as if examining a stuffed animal in a museum display.
“What a shame.”
Their eyes locked, and his gaze pierced through her.
The glint of supernatural power sparkled like a jewel, making Roilnia shudder involuntarily.
“At this rate, it might take you another million years just to scrape at my feet.”
Her vivid red eyes shook at his mocking tone, masked by a dignified smile.
She struggled to maintain composure.
But she wasn’t about to be fooled by that mask.
Beneath it lay a devil, plain and simple.
“Don’t act so high and mighty. You won’t read me twice. You probably feel smug now that you caught a sliver of what I was thinking, but hiding thoughts is easier than breathing.”
“Oh? Then why were yours so easy to read?”
Bang—!!
Like a released bowstring, Roilnia—who had been dragged toward him—was hurled far across the ground.
But she wasn’t one to stay down quietly.
From above, metal beams from the skeletal frame of nearby buildings came flying at Heima.
“We should get out of the—”
“Stay still.”
As a normal person without powers, Ben instinctively moved to dodge the falling debris, but Heima’s command stopped him in his tracks.
He didn’t even get the chance to ask why before he noticed something on the ground.
Sparks crackled and danced across the asphalt, breaking it apart.
It was obvious where those were headed.
And it didn’t stop there.
The electric current split the air with a loud crackle as it shot toward Roilnia.
Whoosh—!
The woman, rolling across the ground, used telekinesis as a foothold to spring high into the air, dodging the lightning.
She stopped mid-leap, hovering above the large hole she’d created.
Arms raised, she looked like a witch casting a final curse.
“You don’t deserve to call me a dog. You’re the one who’s fallen to the level of a mere hound!”
“If you think of me as the dog guarding the house, that’s not the worst thing to be called.”
Ben winced at that one—it stung a little too close to home.
Haimar, as if sensing that even in the midst of battle, leisurely turned to him and asked:
“What’s wrong? Should I bark?”
“No thanks.”
“Since when were you so desperate to have a Guide? Weren’t you the one who said he’d rather die than be tied to a Guide, and practically marched himself into a coffin?”
Roilnia’s voice, filled with scorn, sliced between Haimar and Ben.
Her fury lit up her eyes as she turned toward the gaping hole in the sky.
The moment she did, it slammed shut, and a new rift opened in the exact same spot.
Whatever she was planning, it was clear she intended to switch up her tactics.
The whites of her eyes, veins ruptured, turned red as her irises.
Even her hair looked aflame as it whipped through the wind.
She had no intention of backing down.
“Hahahahaha! Fine, I’ll end it all here. The real party starts now!”
She laughed out loud, a sound that declared war.
Inside the new rift, strange noises echoed intermittently.
An ominous prelude to something far worse.
She still had more chaos to unleash.
Ben, face pale, stared up at the unknown rift, unable to predict what might emerge.
Watching the woman rise higher and higher using her powers, he thought that it wouldn’t be surprising if a monster from his worst nightmares came crawling out next.
Yet somehow, he wasn’t that afraid.
Because right beside him stood a man whose very presence could crush everything.
And true to that presence, the one thing that shattered all the dread Roilnia had stirred—
Snap—!
—was the sharp flick of Heima’s fingers.
A single sound.
That was all.
Like a film cutting to a new scene, the entire atmosphere flipped in an instant.
Roilnia’s shrieking laughter was silenced, and a voice like divine command rang out, low and absolute:
“—Fall.”
And she did.
Boom—!!
Everything in the air seemed to press down on her at once, the weight of it flattening her to the ground.
Even the air gained mass under Heima’s control.
“Gravity… manipulation…!”
Unable to stand, Roilnia dropped to all fours, desperately trying to withstand the crushing force.
Her arms trembled under the pressure.
Every joint in her body screamed in agony, but she still lifted her head to glare at the man closing in.
Her pride wouldn’t allow her knees to hit the ground.
In a final attempt, she stretched out her hand toward him—but it was ensnared by an exposed, ripped electrical wire, torn from a nearby utility pole.
And then, the current surged.
“AaaaAAAAAAHHHHH!!”
Her flesh burned.
Her fingers blackened.
Her eyes felt like they would melt.
The pain was unbearable, like she’d be reduced to ashes in seconds.
Gravity crushed her, and the whole world seemed to want her defeated.
Overwhelming.
This was overwhelming.
She couldn’t win.
A voice deep within her whispered the truth she didn’t want to accept.
But even then, even in this inferno of pain—Roilnia clung to consciousness.
“Don’t… mock… meeeeee!!”
As she tore away the wires wrapped around her arm, the woman staggered to her feet.
Smoke rose from her body, scorched black by electricity.
Despite one arm burned to charcoal, she didn’t hesitate—her hand dove into her pocket.
She bit off the cap of a remaining syringe and jabbed all of them into her thigh.
Most were likely useless after the electric shock, but her hands moved with desperate urgency.
Hiss—
A different kind of smoke than burning flesh began to envelop her.
New flesh began to sprout over her charred body, though the arm wrapped in wires was too necrotized and healing slower.
Still, it would be usable in a few minutes.
As that thought finished forming, Roilnia roughly swept back her singed hair and lifted her head—only to meet eyes with a man whose beauty made her current appearance laughable in comparison.
“Getting bored. Shall we stop now?”
No. No way in hell. Who said you could decide that?
She stumbled back to avoid his reaching hand, but her legs wouldn’t obey.
The electric shock played a part, but damned gravity was the bigger culprit.
And so, the blackened arm that hadn’t recovered was caught—gripped with a deeply unpleasant sound.
Crunch—!
“You sick monster—!”
“Got anything more original?”
Calling him a monster?
How tiresome.
Not even worth being considered an insult—he’d heard it so many times, it might as well be a compliment now.
With an expression devoid of interest, Haimar ripped the charcoal-like arm clean off her body.
His next target was her neck.
“You bastard… you think this is enough to kill me?!”
A revolting sound like tearing meat clung to her arm before dissipating.
The limb was so burned, barely a drop of blood spilled.
Even so, the woman didn’t scream.
Instead, her face twisted with hatred, and she swung her remaining arm—partly to fend off the hand aiming for her neck, but more so to make space for escape.
Bitterly, Roilnia knew—losing an arm meant she was at a disadvantage.
Even if she had more tricks, this kind of unexpected interference, like Ben’s arrival, wasn’t in her plan.
Bastard. Devil.
Roilnia didn’t bother hiding her thoughts and spat out curses with intent.
It was humiliating beyond words.
Logic might remain cold, but her raging emotions couldn’t be stopped.
Her situation—running from this demon—was unbearable, unjust.
But now was not the time to stay.
A thin thread of reason kept her from breaking, while layers of hatred wrapped over it again.
She’d make him pay—kneel beneath her feet, begging for mercy.
Boom—
The sky, once torn wide open, snapped shut, and beneath her feet, a portal opened.
As she was sucked into the escape route, her sharp eyes flicked over to Ben.
Her gaze was unchanged from the moment they first met—still dripping with contempt.
“This isn’t over!”
The defeated serpent hissed one last time before slinking back into her den.
Like a snake missing its prey, she vanished as mysteriously as she’d appeared, her talent for escape as sharp as ever.
Her burrow would be impossibly deep—she would coil herself tightly inside until it was time to strike again.
* * *
