Anthesis of Sadness
Chapter 39: My Student, My Weakness

Chapter 39: My Student, My Weakness

A formless mass of flesh and tentacles, half-buried beneath the arid earth. Only enormous appendages emerged, slithering across the surface, ready to strike the unwary. A low, almost imperceptible rumble vibrated through the air, seeping into my bones. This low-frequency howl wasn’t just a sound—it was a trap, an invisible call that blurred the senses, sowed doubt and confusion.

Then, a movement. Slow, relentless.

The tentacles tightened around an invisible prey, crushing the air with a force that gave me a grim preview of what would happen to anyone caught.

It was there, lurking beneath our feet, and it was waiting.

But my plan was already in motion.

Opening the blood flask, I clumsily mimicked a Sharok, trying to take control with as much finesse as possible. It wasn’t perfect—far from it—but I was counting on a bit of luck.

Under my clumsy influence, the poor blood creature trotted toward the beast, unaware of the fate awaiting it. Immediately, enormous appendages rose and crashed down on it, grabbing it with relentless strength.

Focusing as much as I could, I solidified the blood, letting the beast drag its helpless prey toward its gaping maw. When it swallowed it in one gulp, I gradually released my grip and then felt the liquid spread through its entrails.

"Well... now we wait thirty minutes."

Suddenly, a detail struck me. I had nothing to measure time.

"Another thing I’ll need to buy," I thought with a hint of annoyance.

I had considered counting... but to be honest, I couldn’t be bothered.

So I just stood there, motionless, staring at the horizon, listening to the wind blow across the dry land.

"Tick, tock, tick, tock..."

Time stretched on, endless.

Then, in my head:

"RING RING RING!"

I sighed. I was definitely too impatient.

But... by the look of it, it must’ve been about twenty minutes, right? I thought, shrugging.

Turning to Lysara, I said:

—I’m going to explain my plan, okay?

Usually, she just nodded silently. But this time, her voice rose—weak, but distinct:

—Yes.

That simple word. One syllable.

But in this world of screams and silence, it was a miracle.

I thought I saw her lips tremble just after. A flicker of emotion. Or maybe... a fear of saying too much.

I froze. A shock, a sudden wave of emotion ran through me.

She had spoken.

A single word, and yet... I felt an unexpected warmth fill me. I was happy—far more than I cared to admit. I had definitely grown attached to this girl to react so strongly to each of her words.

Clearing my throat to refocus.

So, you see, my plan has a very specific name!

I struck a theatrical pose, a smirk on my lips.

—"Wait for the evil creature to be numbed by poison and kill it while being protected by the blood of the MAGNIFICENT ANTHONY!"

I deliberately exaggerated my name, puffing out my chest slightly like I was some living legend.

Lysara stared at me for a moment, impassive.

...Then simply looked away.

Well, apparently my sense of drama was lost on her.

—So, are you ready?

She stared at me again, her expression as unreadable as ever. Then, slowly, she nodded.

No words this time. But that simple gesture was enough.

Slitting my palms, I let my blood flow in thick streams, manipulating it to form a protective sphere above Lysara. The scarlet liquid floated, vibrating slightly under my control, ready to shield her.

Without a word, she placed her bag down with an almost ceremonial care, as if she were preparing for something far greater than a simple fight.

Then, gripping her hammer tightly, she advanced toward the beast.

The air still vibrated with the monster’s low rumble.

Every second was an agony of silence. Even the ground seemed to hold its breath. Even the shadows hesitated to move. There was something unnatural here... An ancient intelligence. A malice rooted in the earth.

The fight was about to begin.

She approached without fear.

The darkness rustled around us, heavy and oppressive. Then, without warning, a mass of flesh burst from the ground with a gut-wrenching howl. The Vhor’Ghul. Its tentacles shot through the darkness, trying to seize us.

Lysara instinctively assumed a battle stance. With a powerful swing, she brought her hammer down, crushing one of the slimy appendages with a sickening squelch. Other tentacles coiled around her, but she drove them back with a brutal sweep, sending vile chunks of flesh flying through the air.

It was brutal, clumsy, but sincere. She struck with everything she had—not to impress, not just to survive... but to be worthy. Of me? Of herself? I didn’t know.

Then came the howl. A deep, oppressive sound that vibrated in the air and seeped into my bones. She trembled. Not with fear—no. But from overload. As if her mind, still too young, too new, couldn’t withstand the invisible wave. I had felt that before. The first time a monster speaks to you without words. And that’s when a tentacle shot out, ready to strike her down.

I had said I wouldn’t help. That I wanted to see her struggle. But this... this was different. This was no longer training. This was a lesson no child should face alone.

This was no longer a test. No longer a game of master and student.

This was a suspended moment, with death watching. And I... I couldn’t just watch.

Because I had watched her too long. And now, she mattered.

Without thinking, I focused my power. The blood orb I carried began to vibrate, shaping into a thin, sharp blade. In a split second, I launched it straight at the attacking appendage. The organic metal sliced through the air and severed the slimy flesh cleanly, spilling a flood of dark fluid onto the ground.

But the beast didn’t stop. The fight raged on—intense and brutal. Lysara fought fiercely, hammering over and over, each strike tearing off fragments of hideous flesh. Yet, despite the monster’s weakening, I could see her losing ground.

Her breath grew short. Her movements, slightly slower. The shadow of the Vhor’Ghul was closing in on her.

A beast of this level, even weakened, was still a formidable opponent for Lysara. Her breathing was shallow, her movements slightly sluggish, and the Vhor’Ghul, though wounded, fought with blind rage.

So I decided to give her a bit of help. With a smooth motion, I made the blood sphere vibrate again. It instantly condensed into a fine, crimson blade, razor-sharp. Without delay, I launched it with a swift, precise movement. The blade sliced through the air and cleanly cut off several tentacles lunging at Lysara, sending them collapsing limply to the ground in a sticky mess.

Lysara, always quick and clever, seized the opportunity without hesitation. Gripping her hammer tight, she charged forward with brutal force, her body taut like a drawn bow. Her steps pounded the ground as she rushed toward the gaping abyss where the monstrous maw of the Vhor’Ghul still writhed.

Her movements were no longer hesitant. Her body was no longer that of a child. She had become a weapon. She had understood that sometimes, you don’t win... you just survive longer than the other. And she knew I was watching over her.

Reaching the edge of the pit, she planted her feet firmly in the rocky earth, locking her stance. Her gaze burned with absolute determination.

Then, taking a deep breath, her body began to change. Her skin hardened in places, taking on a texture like metal. Her muscles instantly reshaped under the effect of her transformation, gaining density and strength.

She stretched her upper body to its limit, molding it to reach an amplitude impossible for a normal human. Her arms lengthened slightly, her shoulders widened, every fiber of her adapting to maximize the power of the strike to come.

The hammer rose high above her head, gleaming under the pale glow of night. Her entire body vibrated under the pressure of the moment—a living weapon, ready to strike with titanic force.

Watching her twist and strengthen froze me for a moment. She had never looked so terrifying. Nor so beautiful. And maybe that was the scariest part.

A suspended moment.

Then, in one swift motion, she released everything.

Her hammer came down with unimaginable violence on the beast’s skull.

A thunderous impact. A muffled crash that echoed through the night like a clap of thunder.

Then a sound rang out...

Ding!

You have defeated [Vor’Ghul (Rare) – Level 52]

A heavy silence fell over the area. The kind of silence that even death holds its breath for. She had won. Not me. Her. And I was proud. Damn proud.

Then Lysara moved toward me on her own. She looked at me, her eyes full of expectation, as if she were waiting for me to say something.

A smile formed on my lips.

I reached out and gently placed my hand on her head, offering a gesture of recognition.

—You did very well. That was a very strong monster today, but you did it. I’m proud of you!

She said nothing, but I saw a glimmer in her eyes. Maybe gratitude, or simply a form of relief. It didn’t matter.

I walked over to the creature—it was time to carve it up. To complete the quest, I needed to retrieve a piece of tentacle. I took the bag Lysara had left near me and pulled out the provisions and flasks, storing them in a pocket of my cloak. As I did, I suddenly realized I was covered in blood from head to toe. A mix of my own blood and that of the Zar’Kha.

Good thing I’d taken off my top and my cloak—otherwise, I’d have had a real mess on my hands.

Anyway, I had nothing to wash with in these arid lands. No time to dwell on that detail—there was work to do.

I quickly refocused on my goal. To complete the quest, I had to recover a piece of tentacle. So I took one and stored it in the bag. Then I moved toward the creature’s maw. The receptionist had advised me to collect its eight "howl glands." She had specified they were located behind its rings.

I extended my claws, made them vibrate for better sharpness, then got to work.

It wasn’t courage. It was necessity. And maybe... a bit of revenge. This creature had almost broken her. I wanted to empty it of everything. Reduce it to nothing.

A few minutes later, I had retrieved six glands. Unfortunately, in the process, I had accidentally sliced two of them, damaging them.

Two failures. Two mistakes too many. I still had a long way to go. And yet, for the first time in a long while, it didn’t make me bitter. I had the feeling... that she was watching me.

Standing up, I turned away from the beast emerging from the crevice.

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