The Essence Flow

Chapter 180: It Was Smiling



Chapter 180: It Was Smiling

An unnerving aura radiated from Haeren—thick, suffocating, pressing down on them like an invisible hand. The air itself warped around him, vibrating with unseen energy.

Towan stood firm, his jaw set.

But even he couldn’t mask the tension in his voice.

"We need to retreat."

He stepped back, slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving Haeren.

The others couldn’t move.

FLASH.

A blur—too fast to track.

Only Towan’s instincts caught the movement, his eyes barely registering the shift before—

CRACK.

A knee smashed into Alira’s stomach, the force lifting her off her feet. Blood exploded from her mouth, splattering the ground in a dark arc as she crumpled to her knees.

"Blugh—!"

"ALIRA!"

Len’s scream split the air, her hands already moving. Water spears materialized mid-air, lancing toward Haeren in a barrage of razor-sharp strikes.

They shattered on impact—no splash, no wound, just vaporized droplets dissolving into mist.

"Shit."

Towan’s curse was raw, visceral.

Haeren moved again, this time toward Len—no hesitation, no wasted motion, just lethal intent.

Towan forced his body forward, his shoulder screaming in protest.

"HAAAH—!"

A tornado kick, his heel whipping around with enough force to splinter stone, connected squarely with Haeren’s face.

The impact should have shattered bone.

Instead, Haeren staggered back—just a step.

(No damage…?)

Towan landed in front of Len, his breath ragged.

"Run away."

"But—"

"RUN." His voice was steel. "You’ll get in my way."

A single glare

toward Rellie, Calo and Veik—wordless, but absolute.Get out. Now.

They ran.

Not out of cowardice—out of necessity. Every one of them knew: staying meant death, and Towan wouldn’t let them throw their lives away.

Alira, still clutching her stomach, stumbled forward, her usual fire reduced to labored breaths. Len supported her, her grip tight, her face pale. Rellie, Calo, Veik—all moving, all forcing themselves to leave.

Because Towan stood alone.

And Haeren attacked.

A simple punch. No flourish, no technique—just raw, devastating force hurled straight at Towan’s chest.

Towan crossed his arms in an X-block, muscles straining as the blow slammed into him.

CRACK.

The impact sent him skidding backward, his boots tearing grooves into the earth as he fought to stay upright. His arms throbbed, the pain radiating down to his bones.

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(So much force…!)

But he grinned. Blood trickled from his lip, his breath came in sharp gasps, but his voice boomed across the battlefield:

"Come on! Is that all you’ve got?!"

A taunt. A challenge.

A final gamble to keep Haeren’s attention locked on him.

Towan braced himself, muscles coiled, arms raised in a desperate guard.

(It’s okay… I can do this.)

A lie. But one he needed to believe.

Haeren’s arm twisted unnaturally, the flesh rippling as a thick, violet tentacle erupted from his palm, its surface glistening like wet rot. It hung in the air for a heartbeat, poised—

—then split apart.

A thousand needle-thin spears of Corruption, each twitching with malicious life, fanning out like a hellish storm.

Towan squeezed his eyes shut, bracing for the agony of piercing flesh.

But—

Nothing.

"What…?"

A scream tore through the air behind him—not his own.

His stomach dropped.

He whirled, dread clawing up his throat—

—and saw them.

All of them.

Fallen.

Alira, collapsed forward, her back bristling with jagged Corruption, each spear buried to the hilt. Len, gasping, her hands scrabbling weakly at the dirt as the poison seared through her veins. Rellie, curled in on herself, her dagger still clutched in limp fingers. Veik, Calo—all motionless, their bodies pinned like insects.

"N-no…"

Towan’s voice shattered.

His gaze snapped back to Haeren—

—but the student was gone.

Now just stood a monster

And on its featureless face—

—a smile.

Wide.

Hungry.

Drinking in his despair.

FLASH.

A blur of motion—too fast to track, too brutal to comprehend. Towan’s arms jerked up, instincts screaming to block, but his body wasn’t his anymore. Exhaustion dragged at his muscles like chains. His guard came up—a fraction too late.

Haeren’s hand punched through his chest.

Not a strike. Not a wound.

A violation.

Fingers, slick with Corruption and glistening violet, burst out through his back in a spray of crimson. Towan’s breath hitched—not a scream, just a wet, shuddering gasp. Blood fountained, painting the grass in dark, arterial arcs. His vision whited out for a second, the pain so vast it erased thought.

Then—silence.

Haeren wrenched his arm free, tendons and shattered bone snapping audibly as Towan’s body jolted from the force. The monster tilted its head, studying him with those pupil-less, glowing eyes. No triumph. No hatred. Just curiosity, like a child pulling wings off a fly.

Towan looked down.

A hole.

Not clean. Not surgical. Gaping. The edges of his ribs splintered outward, flesh peeled back like torn parchment. He could see through himself—glimpses of trampled grass, his own blood pooling beneath his boots.

“No…”

His voice was a whisper, a plea, a denial. His legs buckled, but he didn’t feel himself hit the ground. The world tilted, colors bleeding into gray. Distantly, he heard screams—Alira? Len?—but they sounded muffled, underwater.

His fingers twitched, grasping at nothing. At everything.

“This… can’t… end… here.”

Each word cost him.

Blood bubbled at his lips. His heartbeat stuttered, a dying drum in the hollow cage of his chest.Then—darkness.

And the last thing he knew?

The monster was still smiling.

“TOWAN!”

Len’s voice ripped through the air, raw and shattered. She forced herself up, her body trembling as the last dregs of her Essentia burned through her veins, dissolving the Corruption needles embedded in her back. They sizzled away into black smoke, leaving behind jagged, weeping wounds. But she barely felt them.

Alira staggered to her feet beside her, her hands glowing faintly with the last embers of her fire. The needles melted off her skin, hissing like acid, but her flames sputtered and died—just like the light in her eyes.

Then—silence.

They stared.

At the body.

At the blood still pooling in the dirt.

At the hole where their friend’s heart used to be.

Frozen.

Alira’s axe slipped from her fingers, hitting the ground with a dull thud. Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Just a choked, broken noise, like something inside her had snapped.

Len’s breath hitched—sharp, uneven. Her hands shook, her vision blurring. She wanted to scream. Wanted to rage, to fight, to do anything—but her body wouldn’t move.

“What… what do we do?” Alira whispered.

Her voice was hollow. Empty. The fire that had always burned in her words—gone.

Len looked at her, and for the first time, Alira saw terror in those usually calm, calculating eyes.

“I…”

A tear spilled over, tracing a glistening path down Len’s cheek.

“I don’t know.”

Her voice cracked.

“I’m scared.”

And in that moment, they weren’t warriors.

They weren’t fighters.

They were just two girls, standing in the ruins of everything they’d known, watching the world end.

Haeren—no.

That thing that had once been Haeren moved forward.

Not with urgency. Not with rage.

Slowly. Deliberately.

Like a predator who knew its prey couldn’t run.

Every step squelched in the blood-soaked earth. Its breath came in wet, rattling exhales, the sound of a corpse forcing air into dead lungs. The violet glow of its eyes pulsed, drinking in their terror, savoring it.

It was death walking. And it knew it.


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