Chapter 13 The Aftermath of Power 10/08/908


    Nasir’s breath came sharp and controlled, but beneath that exterior, frustration churned inside him.


    He had wanted to see how far Yonas could go, how much he could push himself before reaching his limit. But in doing so, had he risked too much? Yonas wasn’t just struggling—he had collapsed, unmoving, vulnerable. A sharp pang of guilt clawed at Nasir’s chest, but he shoved it down. This wasn’t the time to dwell on mistakes.


    The remaining monsters had noticed Yonas'' condition, their twisted faces shifting toward him, sensing weakness. A predator’s instinct. Nasir felt his pulse hammer against his ribs. The boy couldn’t defend himself anymore—one wrong move and Yonas would die right in front of him.


    His grip on his sword tightened, the weight of his choices pressing down on him. He had held back before, testing Yonas, but now, there was no room for hesitation.


    With a sharp exhale, he let his elemental energy surge through him, preparing to end this in an instant.


    The last monster hesitated, its bloodshot eyes darting between Nasir and the corpses of its fallen kin.


    Unlike goblins, which fought with mindless aggression, these creatures possessed something far more dangerous—intelligence. It wasn’t simply reacting out of fear; it was assessing the situation, processing its chances of survival. It had seen how easily Nasir cut down the others. It had watched its kin fall in mere moments. It knew it couldn’t win.


    Then, it turned and ran.


    Nasir’s eyes narrowed. A goblin would have fought to the death, too stupid to understand its own mortality. But this creature? It had chosen to retreat—not out of panic, but with intent. It moved with purpose, weaving between trees, its body shifting seamlessly into the shadows as if it had done this many times before.


    His instincts screamed at him. Letting it go felt like a mistake. If it was smart enough to recognize an unwinnable fight, then it was smart enough to return with reinforcements. The thought of more of these creatures lurking in the depths of the Eldergrove, learning, adapting, waiting for the perfect moment to strike—it wasn’t a risk he could afford.


    Without hesitation, he acted.


    A sharp breath. A surge of energy. The air around him twisted and howled, spiraling into his open palm. In an instant, it solidified into a spear—a lethal construct of wind compressed to the density of steel, its razor-thin edges shimmering in the dim light.


    He didn’t wait.


    The moment the spear reached completion, he hurled it forward, the sheer force of the launch sending a gust of wind ripping through the clearing. It shot through the trees like a phantom, leaving no sound, no warning. The monster barely had time to turn before the spear struck.


    The impact was devastating.


    The weapon drilled deep into the creature’s back, its high-velocity rotation twisting the flesh apart as it tore through muscle and bone. The spiraling motion acted like a blender, churning its innards into an unrecognizable mess of shredded organs and ruptured tissue. The monster let out a strangled gurgle, its limbs jerking violently, its body twitching as though trying to resist the inevitable. It staggered, took two more steps forward, then collapsed in a heap.


    Blood pooled beneath it, thick and dark, its body still faintly convulsing as the last remnants of life flickered away.


    Silence fell over the forest once more.


    Nasir exhaled, rolling his shoulders as he released the last remnants of elemental energy from his body. His breathing was controlled, steady, but his mind was already shifting focus.


    One threat was gone.


    But the one behind him? The one that truly mattered?


    Yonas.


    Nasir turned sharply, his focus snapping from the fallen monster to the boy lying motionless on the forest floor.


    Yonas wasn’t moving.


    His chest remained still, no rise, no shallow breath. His lips, once flushed with life, had turned pale, almost bluish. His skin was damp with sweat, yet cold to the touch. Nasir knelt beside him, pressing two fingers to his neck. No pulse. He moved his hand to Yonas’ chest. No movement. A creeping dread clawed at the edges of his mind, but he forced it down. Now wasn’t the time for doubt.


    He worked quickly, assessing the damage. There was no wound, no obvious external injury that could have caused this—no, this was something else. Then, it hit him. The cause was painfully clear. Yonas hadn’t just collapsed—his body had completely shut down. He had burned through all his oxygen, leaving nothing to sustain himself.


    Nasir cursed under his breath.


    He placed a hand over Yonas’ nose and mouth, channeling his air elemental energy. Wisps of wind coiled around his fingertips as he forced a controlled stream of fresh, breathable air into the boy’s lungs. He moved his free hand to Yonas’ sternum and began pressing down in rhythmic compressions.


    His movements were swift, precise—this wasn’t guesswork. He had done this before. A battlefield medic certified in emergency resuscitation, Nasir had seen men brought back from the brink of death, some luckier than others. But Yonas wasn’t a soldier. He was just a kid. And this wasn’t some shallow injury—it was complete oxygen deprivation. If he didn’t wake up now…


    No. He refused to think like that.


    Nasir gritted his teeth, forcing another breath of air into Yonas’ lungs, pressing down harder against his chest. “Come on, kid,” he muttered, his voice low, controlled, but carrying a weight of urgency beneath it.


    Nothing.


    Again. More air. More pressure. His hands moved with relentless precision, ignoring the stiffness setting into his own muscles, ignoring the tremor of unease creeping into his bones.


    Then—


    A violent gasp.


    Yonas'' body convulsed as if he had been yanked from the void, his back arching off the ground as his lungs expanded. He choked on the first breath, his fingers twitching, his entire body trembling from the shock of being pulled back from the brink.


    His eyes snapped open—wide, unfocused, wild.


    He sucked in air greedily, his breath ragged, desperate, his body instinctively trying to make up for what it had lost. His limbs felt too weak to move, but the sensation of life flooding back into him was overwhelming.


    Nasir exhaled, rolling back slightly onto his heels. The stiffness in his hands lingered, but the tension in his chest finally loosened. His breath was slow, measured, his expression unreadable.


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    Then, in the smallest moment, a quiet sigh escaped his lips.


    Yonas was alive.


    Hours passed.


    Yonas remained on the ground, his breathing steady but weak, his body caught in the throes of exhaustion. The aftereffects of what he had done—of what he had forced his body to endure—were far worse than simple fatigue.


    Pain wracked every inch of him.


    His limbs felt heavy, leaden, as if they didn’t belong to him. His muscles ached with a deep, consuming soreness, not just from strain, but from deprivation—his body had been starved of oxygen for too long, leaving his very cells screaming for relief. A dull, throbbing pain settled in his skull, making even the act of keeping his eyes open feel unbearable. His lungs burned, raw from being pushed beyond their limit, each breath sending sharp, stinging reminders of his near-death experience.


    But worst of all was the emptiness.


    He had tasted something—something beyond himself. The rush of elemental energy surging through him, the sensation of power coursing through his veins, making him faster, stronger. He had wielded something incredible, something greater than anything he had ever felt before. And now, it was gone.


    Yonas shifted slightly, a low groan slipping from his lips as he turned his head. The movement sent another ripple of pain through his body, but he forced himself to endure it. He wasn’t dead. That was enough.


    His eyes flickered open, the blurry haze of his vision settling on a lone figure seated nearby.


    Nasir.


    He sat with his back against a tree, his arms crossed, watching Yonas in silence. His expression was unreadable, his gaze sharp, calculating. He had been waiting. Not with worry, not with overbearing concern—but with the patient, expectant stare of a mentor who had already assessed the damage and was now preparing for the lesson that followed.


    Yonas swallowed, his throat dry and rough. “I feel like I got trampled by a horse,” he muttered hoarsely.


    Nasir didn’t react immediately. Then, with the faintest smirk, he replied, “Be grateful you’re feeling anything at all.”


    There was no warmth in his tone, no unnecessary softness. Just fact. Yonas had nearly died. And if he didn’t understand why, it would happen again.


    The pain was unbearable. But Yonas knew, deep down, that this pain was a lesson.


    And Nasir was about to make sure he learned it.


    Yonas forced himself to focus, but his mind was sluggish, weighed down by exhaustion. The fight was a blur—flashes of movement, the rush of wind against his skin, the overwhelming surge of power. Then… nothing. A void. His body shutting down in an instant, as if someone had snuffed out a flame.


    He clenched his teeth. “What… happened?” His voice came out weak, barely more than a rasp.


    Nasir shifted slightly, resting one arm on his knee. His eyes remained locked onto Yonas, sharp and unwavering. “You collapsed,” he said simply. “Your body shut down because you drained it of the one thing it needs to function.”


    Yonas frowned, struggling to piece it together. He knew he had been using air elemental energy—he had felt it, guiding his movements, making him faster, stronger. But why had it suddenly turned against him?


    “I don’t get it,” he admitted, his breath still unsteady. “I was just… using it. Like you do.”


    Nasir exhaled through his nose, his patience measured. “No, you weren’t.”


    He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving Yonas. “You didn’t draw elemental energy from the environment. You used the energy inside your own body.”


    Yonas blinked, his tired mind struggling to grasp the weight of those words. “Inside my body…?”


    Nasir gave a slow nod. “Oxygen,” he clarified. “A derivative of air. You manipulated it directly—used it as fuel to amplify your movements. But the conversion rate was… let’s just say, horribly inefficient.”


    Yonas'' stomach twisted as realization sank in. He had drained himself, not just of stamina, but of the very thing keeping him alive. That was why his body had shut down so suddenly—why he had nearly died without even realizing it.


    It wasn’t just exhaustion. It was total deprivation.


    A heavy silence settled between them as Yonas absorbed the truth. He had felt so powerful in that moment, yet in reality, he had been walking the edge of a blade, his own abilities nearly killing him before he had even understood them.


    He swallowed hard. “So… what does that mean for me?”


    Nasir tilted his head slightly. “It means,” he said, his tone carrying its usual bluntness, “that if you don’t learn to control how you use elemental energy, the next time you try that, you won’t be waking up.”


    Yonas let the words sink in, the weight of them pressing against his already aching body. He had been on the brink of death, not because of an enemy’s strike, but because of his own recklessness—his own ignorance.


    His fists clenched weakly at his sides. “So… I nearly killed myself,” he muttered.


    Nasir’s expression remained unreadable, but his eyes sharpened. “More than ‘nearly,’” he corrected. “Your body was seconds away from shutting down for good. If I had been slower, if I had hesitated…” He let the sentence trail off, leaving the unspoken truth to settle between them.


    Yonas swallowed, his throat dry. He had known the fight had pushed him beyond his limits, but he hadn’t realized just how close he had come to dying. The power he had wielded—it had felt incredible, but now he understood the cost. It hadn’t been a gift. It had been a gamble. And he had lost.


    “Using your inner energy like that,” Nasir continued, his tone firm, “is a last resort. It’s not something you tap into because you feel like it. It’s something you use when death is already at your throat and you have no other option.”


    Yonas met his gaze, frustration creeping into his expression. “But it worked,” he argued. “I was faster, stronger. I—”


    Nasir’s voice cut through him like steel. “And it almost killed you.”


    The sharpness in his tone silenced Yonas instantly.


    Nasir exhaled, leaning forward slightly, his elbows resting on his knees. “If you ever do that again, the odds of you surviving are not in your favour,” he said, his voice steady, final. “It’s more likely to kill you than save you.”


    The words struck Yonas deeper than he expected. He had thought he had stumbled onto something amazing—something that made him special. But in reality, he had only uncovered a path that led to his own destruction.


    And yet, despite the warning, despite the pain…


    A small voice in the back of his mind whispered that he still wanted to feel that power again.


    Yonas let his head rest against the ground, his mind still clouded with exhaustion. But something tugged at the edges of his thoughts, something beyond his near-death experience. He forced himself to focus, piecing together fragments of the battle—the monsters, the overwhelming rush of power, the sudden collapse. Then, another image surfaced.


    That hole.


    The place where Nasir’s fireball had vanished.


    He turned his head slightly toward Nasir, who still sat nearby, arms crossed, his gaze locked onto the forest as if expecting another threat to emerge from the shadows. Yonas'' voice came out hoarse. “The hole…”


    Nasir’s eyes flicked toward him, his expression unreadable.


    “It’s gone,” he said simply.


    Yonas frowned. “Gone?”


    Nasir nodded. “Disappeared. Not just covered up—there’s no trace of it. Like it was never there in the first place.”


    A cold unease crept down Yonas’ spine. The hole had absorbed Nasir’s attack, swallowing elemental energy completely. Now it had vanished without a trace? That didn’t make sense.


    Nasir’s fingers tapped lightly against his arm, a subtle sign that his mind was still working through the implications. “At first, I thought it might be something natural. A sinkhole, some kind of collapse underground. But if that were the case, there’d be some sign left behind—disturbed earth, cracks, something.” He exhaled sharply through his nose. “There was nothing.”


    Yonas'' mind raced through possibilities. “Could it have… fed the monsters somehow?”


    Nasir glanced at him, considering the idea. “Maybe. If it was absorbing elemental energy, it’s possible the creatures were drawn to it—like scavengers to a carcass.” He paused. “But if that’s the case, then why did it vanish as soon as they were dead?”


    The thought sent a shiver through Yonas’ already-weakened body. Something about this felt wrong.


    Then, a darker thought surfaced. One that made his stomach twist.


    “…Could it be a portal?” he asked quietly.


    Nasir didn’t answer right away. His gaze lingered on the distant trees, as if searching for an explanation within the depths of the Eldergrove itself. Finally, he exhaled. “I don’t know.”


    That uncertainty unsettled Yonas more than anything else.


    The silence between them stretched, heavy with uncertainty.


    Yonas wanted answers, but none were coming. The hole, the monsters, his near-death experience—it was too much, and his mind, still sluggish from exhaustion, struggled to make sense of it all. He clenched his jaw, frustration simmering beneath his aching body. He hated this feeling—the helplessness of not knowing.


    Nasir, however, didn’t dwell on the unknown. He had already moved on, his posture shifting from contemplation to something more certain. Whatever the truth was, they weren’t finding it now.


    “We’ll worry about it later,” Nasir said, cutting through the silence. His voice carried no doubt, no lingering concern—just the firm resolve of someone who had already made up his mind. “Right now, you need to focus on what comes next.”


    Yonas exhaled slowly. He knew Nasir was right, but that didn’t make it easier. His body was wrecked, every inch of him protesting even the smallest movement. And yet…


    “How long?” Yonas asked, his voice hoarse.


    Nasir gave him a knowing look. “We still have eleven weeks before we leave the Eldergrove.”


    Yonas’ fingers twitched against the dirt. Eleven weeks. Nearly three months. That was more than enough time to learn how to properly wield elemental energy. More than enough time to make sure this never happened again.


    He let out a slow, shaky breath. The pain, the exhaustion, the fear of death—it all boiled down to one simple truth.


    He had seen a glimpse of what he could become.


    And he wasn’t going to stop until he reached it.