The Poet's System
Chapter 54: Brief but Impactful

Chapter 54: Brief but Impactful

Thick, jagged, and crushingly strong, the hell bear’s jaws promised to shatter bone with a single snap.

With smirks playing on their lips, the captains gave the command, and the monsters lunged forward on all fours, charging straight at the Fools.

Medora stood firm. "Go for the captains, Day. We’ll handle the monsters."

Daylan glanced at Medora and Astara. Both nodded in unison.

He braced himself as he watched them charge toward the hell bears.

Darkness and everything within it recognize me as one of their own. Then let’s overwhelm these motherfuckers.

With a single step, Daylan was upon one of the captains, his dagger aimed for the man’s head—but it was as if the captain knew his move before Daylan himself did.

He dodged effortlessly with a smile, and in that instant, Daylan moved to follow up with another strike—but something made him pull back, instinctively retreating to put a safe distance between them.

He couldn’t explain it, but he knew one thing for sure—had he landed that blow, something in him would’ve snapped.

He adjusted his mask, watching as they laughed at the top of their lungs, mocking him.

If he was going to take on both captains, he needed a better plan. But first—since they were using Margret Rhys’ ability, concept—he had to figure out just how powerful Giselle imagined them to be.

There’s only one way to find out.

Without a moment’s hesitation, he charged in. Once again, his strikes were effortlessly dodged—it was like a tiny ant trying to fight a towering beast.

His attacks were futile, but that didn’t matter. All he wanted was to understand exactly what he was up against.

The other captain stood off to the side, amused by Daylan’s courage and persistence, watching with laughter as Astara and Medora battled the hell bears behind him.

The captain wasn’t striking back—just dodging, effortlessly, with a glint of excitement in his eyes. But what he didn’t realize was that Daylan had already figured it out.

It was foresight.

The captain could see slightly into the future—but exactly how far, Daylan wasn’t sure. So, he decided to test it.

He launched a kick at the captain’s head, which was effortlessly blocked. But before he even hit the ground, Daylan hurled his dagger toward him.

The moment he landed, he sprinted after it. As the dagger came within reach, he called it back to his hand and immediately threw it again.

The captain faltered—he hadn’t seen that part coming. He hadn’t foreseen Daylan summoning the dagger back.

With a smirk, Daylan closed the distance, leaped, and drove both feet into the captain’s stomach, sending him crashing into the ground.

He didn’t waste a single second before dashing after the captain, but before he could close the distance and strike again, the captain was already back on his feet.

However, Daylan wasn’t about to pull any of those ridiculous stunts. They were not only difficult to execute, but also drained his energy and took too much time—and he still had another captain to deal with.

The captain could see just four seconds into the future. Daylan doubted Giselle would intentionally give him such a short window of foresight, which meant one thing—the leader might shape the concept of the captains, but the ability still came with limitations.

With that, Daylan was certain of one thing: the captain could see the future—but what was the point if he couldn’t change it?

The night and repetition belonged to Daylan, and he intended to use them to their fullest.

Daylan refused to slow down. Wherever the captain ran, he was right there with him—and every strike the captain dodged was followed by an even more devastating attack.

The excitement on the captain’s face twisted into frustration as he began to take Daylan seriously.

His teeth clenched, sweat forming on his brow—not only was he struggling to dodge all of Daylan’s attacks, even with foresight, but he also couldn’t land a single hit in return.

Daylan was getting faster by the second.

However, the captain’s skin was tougher than Daylan had anticipated. His dagger barely scratched the surface, merely grazing it.

To gather enough strength to actually cut through and end the fight, Daylan had to pause—just for a moment.

His limbs screamed for even a minute of rest—if such a thing were possible.

But that was the last thing the Fool intended to give them. A pause meant starting all over again, and he wasn’t about to take that risk.

It didn’t matter if he had to strike the same spot a million times just to break through—that’s exactly what he intended to do.

Rage burned in the captain’s eyes as he swung with all his might. Though Daylan dodged each blow, the moment they struck the ground, the force rippled outward—anyone within a mile could feel the impact.

Daylan knew that if even a single hit landed, it would take more than a moment to recover.

He pushed himself to move so fast that the images the captain saw were only his afterimages, forcing the captain to abandon foresight and rely instead on instinct and brute strength.

Daylan struck, dodged, and blocked a flurry of attacks—both the critical blows and the close calls. He reactivated Dark Spiral the moment it faded, but his hand was already bruised.

Without Medora to heal him mid-fight this time, the damage piled on. He couldn’t feel the pain, but the wounds were worsening, deepening with every movement.

The other captain stood on the sidelines, calm and collected. He knew the battle would be his, even if Daylan somehow defeated his comrade. He wasn’t smiling anymore, but there wasn’t a hint of fear in his eyes—only the quiet, unwavering confidence born from a warrior’s passion.

Meanwhile, Medora and Astara were holding their own against the hell bears, though both were panting heavily from exhaustion.

Medora’s flames, while enough to slow the beast down, barely left a scratch—it was clear the creature had faced far hotter fire before. Her strikes were proving far more effective than her magic.

At the same time, Astara’s hell bear refused to let her get close. It kept her at arm’s length, waiting for the chance to smack her with its claws. But Astara didn’t have time to waste—she needed to close the distance and end it with a single, decisive strike.

Unlike Medora and Astara, who occasionally checked on him, Daylan didn’t have a second to spare—not even to glance their way. Still, he knew time was running out. He had to finish this quickly... the other captain was still waiting.

Daylan quickened his pace, gripping his dagger tighter. He was aiming for the captain’s throat—and it didn’t matter if the dagger broke in the process. Every strike he delivered hit that exact spot, swift and precise, relentless in its intent.

The captain realized what Daylan was doing—but there was little he could do about it.

Daylan’s speed was overwhelming; he couldn’t dodge, couldn’t block. Still, it was clear he was preparing something... something meant to finish Daylan off for good.

Daylan caught on to the captain’s intentions—and he was determined to finish him before he got the chance to strike.

He pushed himself even harder, increasing his speed and flexibility. His limbs were screaming, though he couldn’t feel or hear it. But the trembling in his body made it clear—he was nearing his limit.

In an instant—it was brief but impactful—Daylan’s trembling stopped. He didn’t realize it, but Medora was healing him. And though it cost her dearly—a devastating blow to the ribs for those few seconds of sacrifice—it gave Daylan everything he needed.

Faster than he had moved in a long time—and before even the observing captain could react—Daylan’s dagger sliced clean through the captain’s throat.

But Daylan didn’t know—that was the exact moment the captain had planned to strike.

And though he dropped dead, his final blow landed. The impact sent Daylan crashing to the ground, bones shattering... even his neck snapping on impact.

Daylan tried to get to his feet, but he couldn’t. His body refused to move, and for a moment, he didn’t understand why—until he looked down.

He was completely immobilized.

His mind spiraled, desperately searching for a way out. He couldn’t rewind time—his bones were shattered, and he couldn’t even move a finger to snap.

Fear surged through Medora and Astara the moment they saw what had happened to Daylan. Enraged, Medora abandoned her fight and sprinted toward him, while Astara—burning with even more fury than Daylan himself—summoned her Star once more.

The blinding light drew the attention of both hell bears—and the remaining captain—while Medora quietly dragged Daylan to safety, away from the overwhelming brilliance of Astara’s power.

The next thing they heard was a swift, thunderous blade of light—so fast it nearly broke the sound barrier. And in an instant, everything around them began to collapse to the ground.

Meanwhile, Medora was desperately trying to heal Daylan, pouring every last ounce of her strength into him. But Daylan just grinned, wide and unbothered, his eyes locked on hers—eyes that were now soaked with tears.

Smiling was all he could manage at that moment. It wasn’t joy—it was a defense mechanism, a fragile shield against the hopelessness closing in.

Because in his eyes, they were already doomed.

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