Translator: CinderTL
A cold, slimy, and malevolent presence, like a tide of deep-sea mud, silently crashed against Roland's soul barrier.
His mental power, soaring to eighteen points, screamed with frantic warnings, every cell screaming "Danger!"
The scrutinizing gaze, filled with calculation and malice, coupled with the overwhelming pressure radiating from the entity, instantly revealed the insurmountable gap between them.
To engage it in combat would be not a fight, but suicide.
Recognizing this, Roland did not hesitate, nor did he consider probing the entity.
The moment he perceived the shadow, his body had already reacted instinctively:
Create an opportunity, then retreat immediately.
"Withdraw!"
The shout exploded like thunder.
Not to bolster courage, but to signal the most urgent and clear retreat signal to his companions.
Simultaneously, Roland's left hand shot up like lightning, fingers splayed toward the soul-chilling shadow in the depths of the cave.
Hum!
The fire element in the air erupted violently, surging like a tide through the dragonbone bracelet on his wrist and surging toward his brain.
The runes etched on his Consciousness Shoal flared to life.
In the blink of an eye, a condensed, blazing fireball formed out of thin air, its core glowing with an almost incandescent light.
The space around the fireball warped under the intense heat, radiating a destructive aura.
With a low growl, Roland unleashed the [Fire Arrow], a spell that had drained nearly all his mental power and amplified its power to the extreme through his affinity with the fire element. The projectile transformed into a dazzling crimson streak of light, tearing through the air with a piercing whistle as it shot with unerring accuracy into the cave.
The instant the [Fire Arrow] left his fingertips, Roland didn't even wait to see the result of the explosion.
He spun around abruptly, Battle Qi erupting from him in a torrent. Like an arrow loosed from a bowstring, he surged toward the stunned crew and companions at maximum speed.
"Everyone retreat! Get on the ship! Now!"
His roar drowned out the [Fire Arrow's] whistle, his voice filled with unyielding resolve.
The moment Roland's command rang out, Theresa and Galvis had already reacted reflexively.
Their trust in Roland was etched into their very bones, especially when he displayed such unprecedented solemnity and urgency.
Theresa's figure blurred into a silver streak. Her rapier sheathed in an instant, she shoved several dazed crew members toward the ship.
Galvis's lute music suddenly turned frantic and sharp.
It was no longer an attack, but a powerful mental drive, like an invisible whip lashing the crew, dispelling the stiffness brought on by fear and shock.
Boom!
Almost the moment Roland turned and sprinted away, a deafening roar erupted behind him.
The greatly amplified [Fire Arrow] exploded with a thunderous blast, unleashing a torrent of searing heat and violent force.
The hard reef instantly cracked and melted under the extreme temperature, triggering a chain reaction.
Crack! Boom!
Massive chunks of reef crashed down like a shattered ceiling struck by a colossal hammer.
A tsunami of dust, steam, and pulverized rock surged from the depths of the cave.
The entire cavern shook violently, as if on the verge of collapse.
Yet amidst the swirling dust and falling debris, the tall, gaunt figure standing at the edge of the shadows seemed to sway only slightly.
Its "eyes," pulsing with an ominous purple light, pierced through the chaos and locked onto Roland's rapidly receding figure.
No furious roar, no pursuit, only a colder, deeper intent spreading through the air.
As if silently recording and analyzing this prey that dared to create chaos before it and attempt to escape.
This feeling of being seen through made Roland's scalp tingle as he sprinted, but he dared not pause for even a moment.
The collapsing cave blocked their pursuer's path, buying them precious time.
Theresa moved like a streak of light guarding the team's flank, continuously repelling or blocking smaller rocks dislodged by the tremors, ensuring their retreat route remained relatively safe.
Driven by survival instinct and the lingering warmth of Roland's [Ember Resonance], the crew erupted with astonishing speed, scrambling and tumbling toward the gangway.
After Roland tossed the last crewman onto the deck, he exchanged a glance with Theresa.
Without a word, they simultaneously gathered their strength, preparing to leap onto the deck that represented safety.
The moment their feet left the ground, their bodies just lifting off—
Hum!
No sound, or rather, not a sound that registered in the ears.
An indescribable, pure mental force erupted like an invisible, viscous vortex from a central point, engulfing the entire open space.
This strength was cold, viscous, and heavy as lead, carrying with it a pure malice that crushed the will.
Though not physical, it was more lethal than any physical attack. It pierced straight to the soul, as if detonating a mental collapse at the core of consciousness.
It was as if a mountain's weight was crushing thought into dust, or as if invisible claws were tearing consciousness apart.
Mid-air, Theresa's silver figure froze abruptly.
The sharp focus in her eyes vanished, her pupils dilating as if she were seeing her deepest nightmare.
All motion, all strength, all vigilance were instantly frozen and shattered.
A stifled groan of agony squeezed from her throat.
Then, like a kite with a snapped string, her body lost all control, plummeting straight toward the deck with the momentum of her aborted leap.
On the deck, Galvis, who had just regained his footing, paled dramatically.
The harp in his hands let out a shrill, discordant twang as several strings snapped instantly.
He felt an irresistible, icy hammer smash into his mind, churning all thoughts, musicality, and mental power into a boiling mess.
He groaned, clutching his head as he collapsed to his knees, his body convulsing violently. Tiny blood vessels burst in his eyes, ears, mouth, and nose.
The sailors who had just scrambled onto the deck, still shaken, fell in unison like wheat stalks in a scythe.
Some collapsed into unconsciousness, while others clutched their heads, silently screaming in agony. Their bodies curled into fetal positions, eyes glazed over, and foam dripped from their mouths.
The entire deck plunged into a chaotic, deathly silence, broken only by the writhing of pain and the hollow gasps of minds forcibly torn from their bodies.
Only Roland remained.
The instant the devastating mental shockwave struck his consciousness, an indomitable force surged from the depths of his soul.
Steel Will!
All attempts to twist, control, or shatter his will shattered like waves against a reef when they met that cold, pure, absolute barrier of self. They crumbled and dissipated instantly.
Roland felt only a faint, icy prick in his brain, followed by a fleeting, mild dizziness.
The mental storm that had instantly crushed everyone else vanished before his rock-solid will without a trace.
Not even a moment's hesitation.
In his peripheral vision, he caught a glimpse of a ghostly figure materializing behind him.
At the edge of the still-dispersing dust cloud, less than ten steps away.
The tall, gaunt being with a smooth skull pulsed with purple light from its "eyes." Those eyes fixed on him with cold, predatory intensity.
Its tendrils swayed gently.
It was this creature that unleashed that terrifying strike.
(End of the Chapter)
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