The boy turned toward where the metal bar came flying—and his chest loosened in relief when he saw Darion, panting, arms wrapped around a metal bar.

“Yo!” Darion grinned.

But the criminal rose again, unbothered, and stalked toward Darion with slow, murderous steps.

Darion stepped back.

One step. Two. Three.

He turned to run—and slammed straight into a wall. The path was sealed.

The criminal lunged.

Darion ducked by instinct.

The blade speared into the wall behind him, punching five deep holes through the stone.

Before the criminal could pull his weapon back, a heavy curtain fell over him, blinding him for a moment.

“RUN!” Darion shouted.

They bolted out of the room, leaving the criminal thrashing under the cloth.

They slipped into another storage room, hearts racing.

“What now…?” the boy whispered.

Darion scratched his head, “I don’t know…” His brows knitted together, face tightening in deep thought, “What Manifestation does he possess?”

The boy blinked. “Manifestation? Like… his power?”

Darion nodded once.

The boy hesitated, then something clicked, “He kept trying to slash me the whole time. But earlier—when I got cornered—my surroundings… they started getting wet.”

Darion’s eyes widened slightly. Then they drifted around the room—until they stopped at the far side, where rows of metal tanks sat neatly stacked against the wall.

An idea flickered in his gaze.

In the hallway, metal scraped loudly.

The criminal’s voice echoed, low and malicious, “Come out, kids. Don’t make this difficult—your deaths are inevitable.”

Darion shouted back, “Hey! We’re right here!”

“DARION?!” the boy hissed.

“Trust me!” Darion hissed back.

The criminal charged after him.

The two zigzagged through the storage hall until Darion ducked into a dark room.

The criminal burst inside—only to be swallowed by pitch black.

He moved cautiously, checking each corner, sensing something off…

The air in the room felt lighter. Thinner.

Darion stood behind the door, silent as a shadow.

The criminal turned—spotting him.

“Bold of you to stand there,” he growled, raising his blade.

He swung—a pressure ignited in the air—hot and sharp.

“Fire Manifestation, Act I—Trajectory Fire.”

Flashes of fire shot from Darion’s hand—but they flew wildly past the criminal, hitting walls and corners.

The criminal laughed loudly.

“HAHA! What even was that? You can’t hit a barn wall! What a waste of a manifest—”

He never finished.

The room flashed white. The heat spiked violently.

Darion smiled—just a little.

The criminal snarled and released his own power.

“Water Manifestation, Act I—Deluge Cascade!”

Water surged out, flooding forward, slamming into the flare of flames—and the fire instantly died out.

“Hah! Fire? Against me?” he taunted.

Then the flames returned.

Bigger—Hotter—Worse.

The criminal’s eyes widened.

He pushed more water—thin, sputtering.

It wasn’t putting the flames out, something was wrong.

Then he noticed it.

Behind him—from the holes stabbed earlier—a faint hiss.

Gas.

A slow leak from the oxygen tanks.

He’d broken them himself with his earlier strike.

Darion raised his hand again, “Fire Manifestation, Act I—Fire Aegis.”

Flames coated his entire body, blazing brighter with each heartbeat.

“You insolent little—!!” The criminal’s panic turned to rage.

But he couldn’t stop it.

Using his Manifestation while surrounded by flash fire, and leaked oxygen as accelerant, caused his source to overreact—water breaking into hydrogen, inflating his body unnaturally, dangerously.

Then—

BOOM!

The criminal exploded—then the room went with him.

The blast surged outward, racing through the storage hall and rattling the entire prison with its shockwave.

The plan worked.

Earlier, Darion had instructed—

“Listen. Grab those tanks and take them back to the room you got cornered in. Put the nozzles into the holes he made. Let the gas leak through to the next room.”

He glanced through a cracked windowpane.

“I’ll distract him. You set the trap—then I lure him there.”

And they executed it perfectly.

Darion’s plan succeeded.

Now,

The boy hurried down the hall, coughing through drifting smoke.

“Darion? Darion, where are you?!”

A violent surge of fire roared from inside the storage hall—spreading like a wild, starving beast. Heat blasted against him, scorching the air.

Then—footsteps.

A silhouette moved through the blaze.

The boy froze, eyes widening—then ran forward without thinking.

He threw his arms around Darion, pulling him out of the flames.

“Are you okay?” His voice shook with panic.

Darion, coughing, managed a small grin.

“Did I… do it right?”

The boy nodded quickly, smiling despite the fear.

“Yeah. More than right.”

Outside the prison walls, legions of knights, battle-mages, and armored tanks from the Kingdom’s Order surrounded the perimeter. Their ranks stretched for kilometers, every formation tense, weapons drawn.

The entire ground trembled—the fight inside had already reached its peak.

Inside the main hall, the stone floor cracked under the violent pressure of Manifestation. The sealed gateways groaned loudly; terra and wind reinforced them with brutal force.

The winds Elias released were too strong—no one could approach—no one inside could escape.

In that sealed battlefield, amidst the swirling currents and rising stone pillars.

Elias faced Vlad Malcor.

“Enough with your schemes,” Elias said, voice hardened. “Chasing that thing… is darker than every crime you’ve already committed.”

Vlad laughed—full, unhinged, triumphant.

“You still don’t understand, do you? This world is far too small. But by consuming that thing—” his grin widened, “—I can rise beyond any King. I’ll reshape this world myself.”

Elias’s eyes darkened.

“Your delusion is what consumes you.”

They clashed. Again and again.

Their fists whipped the air into storms and shattered stone underfoot. Each collision struck harder than the one before—wind screaming, earth exploding, power meeting power in raw force.

Then—Vlad broke through.

He seized Elias by the throat and slammed him into the ground with a sickening crack.

“Are you ready to die?” Vlad growled.

Elias felt it. The killing intent—real—imediate.

“Soil Manifestation, Act II—Gaia’s Crystalline Point.”

The ground rumbled violently.

A massive, spear-shaped crystal burst upward from beneath—aimed to impale Elias through the heart.

Elias reacted in a breath.

“Wind Manifestation, Act II—Gust!”

A razor-sharp blast of wind exploded outward, throwing Vlad off balance.

Elias joined the current, twisting with the wind to escape as the crystal tore through the floor where his body had been.

Vlad steadied himself, eyes narrowing as he analyzed the flow.

“So… these currents circling—is your source of wind?”

Elias smirked despite the blood at his lip.

“And the ground beneath your feet anchors your power.”

They stared at each other—two veterans, two monsters. Both knew the strengths. Both knew the weaknesses. Both understood that from here on, every strike could be the last.