CHAPTER 58 - LITTLE LUNATIC (Patreon)

Zamian didn’t hesitate as his instincts signalized him of the incoming threat.

Paul moved first, just as expected. Three Bonded Spheres shot out of the ground, brown essence spreading from his bare feet.

Of course, as he prepared to throw them, Zamian was already there.

His body glowed in white light as he threw four consecutive punches.

The balls of earth and concrete crumbled, and Zamian's last hook crashed into Paul’s chest.

A loud crack split the air.

Paul’s body lurched sideways, twisting violently. He gasped, staggering, his legs struggling to keep him upright.

Zamian didn’t stop moving.

A flicker of brown essence surged behind him as Joshua and Peter tried to flank him, the beginnings of Linked Protection—walls of solid gray matter—emerging from the ground.

‘Wrong move.’

With a sharp pivot, Zamian’s glowing white body blurred, stepping on each wall, shattering them into dust. His focus was ending the outsiders' technique before it reached his friends. He didn’t want to kill one of them just for their barely conjured attacks to hit Bohlo or Tulip.

After having his technique destroyed, Joshua barely had time to react before a punch connected with his ribs.

His body folded inward.

A thud echoed as he crumpled to the ground.

Zamian turned, a small smile on his face, already noticing he wasn’t the only one who detected the outsiders’ intentions and had acted.

Kurt was already on Peter, swinging his satchel with enough weight to make the other man stumble. Peter growled, raising a Linked Protection to shield himself. Kurt clicked his tongue and shifted back.

The bearded man had never been talented with Earth’s essence, so instead of competing in conjuring techniques, he relied on speed, striking first to grab his opponent’s attention.

Creating an opening that Bohlo took.

With a roar, his green essence surged. Wooden armor snapped into place around his limbs, almost as bulky as Marlos’, and two jagged wooden axes formed in his grip, as Soho was already secured on the ground behind him.

Bohlo jumped and swung.

The first axe struck Peter’s wall. It wasn’t enough to destroy it, but enough to embed the weapon there, giving Bohlo a hold. Using it for leverage, he pulled himself up, and jumped over the barrier, bringing the second axe down.

The blade slammed into Peter’s shoulder, sending him sprawling across the cracked ground.

Edmund, still struggling to stand on ruined legs after being thrown aside by his own allies in their rush to attack, flung a desperate Bonded Sphere toward Tulip, who had just woken up from the noise.

He aimed at her head. His goal was too kill her and destabilize his enemies. 

But before it could land, Zamian appeared in a blur, catching it mid-air.

His fingers crushed the sphere, dust slipping between them.

Then he turned his gaze to Edmund.

The broken man froze.

Zamian moved.

One step. One strike.

His foot caved into Edmund’s skull before the man could even react.

The body slumped.

Zamian turned away before it hit the floor.

Another wall shot forward from Paul, who was coughing up blood.

It was his last effort. 

His face twisted with pain, his ribs heaving, but he still forced two Linked Protection, in the form of concrete walls to appear. One to block Zamian and Tulip, another to pin down Bohlo and Kurt.

Zamian’s foot shattered the wall coming his way with a single kick, observing as Bohlo and Kurt held the attack thrown at them.

Paul’s eyes widened.

Then Tulip moved.

She rushed forward, her small body glowing with green essence. Her right arm shimmered as the Everbark Technique coated her hand in bark.

Paul barely had time to react before her fist slammed into his gut. He had expected Zamian to move, but never that the blond girl would be the one to rush at him.

He spat blood.

Joshua, still barely conscious, tried to push himself up.

Tulip turned, her wide green eyes locking onto him.

She stepped forward and punched again.

Joshua slumped.

Silence settled.

Zamian smirked, his white eyes glowing as his instincts whispered in his ears.

With him here, his friends were never in danger. The only reason he let this fight drag on was to observe how they fought, to see what they could learn.

With a move of his hand, he made the remaining wall, created by Paul, crumble, freeing Bohlo and Kurt.

Peter and Paul groaned, blood dripping from their mouths, their chests caved in, their ribs shattered.

Joshua and Edmund weren’t moving.

One was passed out.

The other was dead.

Zamian exhaled, his white essence flickering for a moment before fading.

Kurt rolled his shoulders, checking his satchel. He had only spent essence to enhance his body. Against his usual fearful persona, he looked unconcerned. One could say he was more worried about the contents of his bag than the fight.

‘Does he trust me that much?’

Even Zamian was perplexed by Kurt's behavior, remembering their first meeting, and how the outsider feared him.

Bohlo grunted, adjusting his axes.

Tulip simply stood there, blinking at her hand filled with blood.

Zamian cracked his knuckles, stepping forward.

“All done?” he asked, his voice calm.

Receiving only nods and grunts as responses, Zamian walked over to Tulip, who was still staring at her bloody hand. Without a word, he grabbed her wrist and wiped the blood away with his own fingers before rubbing them against the dusty ground. She blinked up at him, startled, but said nothing.

“It’s just blood,” Zamian muttered, glancing at her. “Nothing to be scared of.”

Tulip narrowed her eyes, scoffing. “I’m not scared.”

“Good.” He smirked, stepping back. “Anyway, I had forgotten how ruthless you could be. Nice!”

She pouted, wiping the last bit of blood on her pants, before looking at him. “You’re not gonna scold me?”

“For what?” Zamian tilted his head. “Winning?”

Tulip opened her mouth, then closed it, crossing her arms. “Hmph.”

Zamian turned to Bohlo, nodding toward the wooden axes in his hands. “That’s new.”

Bohlo adjusted his grip on them. “Yeah. This is the second time I made them. Don’t know how long they’ll last.”

“They held up well.” Zamian looked at the jagged edges, the thick wooden handles. “Inspired by Marlos?”

Bohlo grinned. “Of course. I couldn’t get inspired by you and make a wooden fist, right Z?”

Zamian chuckled, then shifted his gaze to Kurt, who was still checking his satchel, seemingly unconcerned about the aftermath of the fight.

“Kurt.”

The bearded man glanced up, raising an eyebrow. “Yes, Great Sir?”

Zamian frowned. “You were terrified of me back in the Sanctuary. When we met at Yokki’s garden, remember?”

Kurt didn’t react immediately, simply tightening the straps on his bag before shrugging. “Yeah.”

“But now?” Zamian pressed. “You just stood there, letting me handle them. Not a single hint of fear.”

Kurt smirked, finally meeting his gaze. “I know what you’re capable of, Great Sir. And if the Warrior Chosen left you to handle this, I had nothing to worry about.”

Zamian’s eyes narrowed slightly.

Kurt continued. “Besides… you already dealt with Chosen before, didn’t you?” He laughed, shaking his head. “What could some Great Warriors possibly do to you?”

Zamian hummed, considering his words. “Fair enough.”

Kurt clapped his hands. “So? What now, Sir?”

Zamian rolled his shoulders and cracked his knuckles. “Now? You all settle here.”

He turned to the groaning figures of Peter and Paul, both barely conscious, their broken ribs making every breath a struggle. Without hesitation, he slammed a fist into each of their heads, knocking them out cold.

“They won’t wake up anytime soon,” Zamian said, brushing the dust off his hands. “Bohlo, you take care of everyone. I’m going after Marlos.”

Bohlo straightened, gripping his axes tighter. “I’ll wait for you.” His voice was steady, certain.

“No one needs to take care of us,” Tulip added, stepping closer. “But…”

She hesitated, then took a deep breath and grabbed Zamian’s collar, yanking him down.

Before he could react, she pressed her lips against his.

It was brief. Quick. More of a statement than anything else.

When she pulled back, her deep blue eyes locked onto his. “Come back soon.”

Zamian nodded.

Tulip smirked. “If you do, I’ll turn you into a man.”

He blinked, processing.

Bohlo groaned, rubbing his face. “Tulip, we can hear you.”

Zamian laughed. It was lighthearted, free. He reached out, ruffled Tulip’s hair, then turned on his heel.

With a final nod to Bohlo and Kurt, he walked away.

His body ached, but he had things to be done.

‘I have to check on Marlos.’

Following the path he believed the Warrior Chosen had taken, Zamian focused, sharpening his senses.

No spikes of essence. No signs of battle. Just an eerie quiet.

His instincts whispered, warning him.

Then, as he rounded a corner, voices reached his ears.

“…Not bad,” one man mused. “The fight ended quicker than I expected.”

“I’d bet they left one alive,” another chuckled. “No way a bunch of Sanctuary brats handled all of them, so they didn’t have to take things so seriously.”

A third voice, gruff and amused, cut through.

“Ohohoho. You underestimate the little lunatic.”

Zamian grinned.

Without hesitation, he stepped forward into the dim light. The same kind of glow he had seen before flickered against the crumbling walls, revealing Marlos standing with three others.

Four figures turned to face him.

Zamian’s gaze flicked to the unfamiliar ones, his vision sharpening. Brown text hovered above their heads.

[LEVEL 3 - MORTAL TIER - ATTACHED PATHWAY]

[LEVEL 3 - MORTAL TIER - ATTACHED PATHWAY]

[LEVEL 4 - MORTAL TIER - ATTACHED PATHWAY]

There were two men and a woman in front of the Warrior Chosen.

The men were just like the other four Zamian had fought. But not the woman.

She was as big as Marlos, a towering figure with a massive hammer strapped to her back.

‘She is the Warlord.’

Zamian’s black eyes gleamed with white light.

“Talking about me?”