CHAPTER 149: ANOTHER ONE

Lucen rolled his eyes. ’Arrogance faint?’ Then he smiled faintly: "I like that better."

Gen leaned forward. "Just... don’t lump it into your stats, yeah?"

Lucen replied: "Not everything is measurable."

Gen nodded. Walked back.

Lucen’s system overlay stayed quiet. No alerts. Just logs. Experience, unchanged.

He leaned back, tapping his knuckles on the desk lightly. Thought of the shove, its weight. The way his arm moved faster than logic.

’Is that part of the martial training? Did I just use it?’

Varik appeared quietly at doorway, just polished boots outside workspace, coat over one arm. No comment.

Lucen waved once.

Varik stepped in.

"Situation clear?"

Lucen shrugged. "Guy got knocked through planet. No casualties."

Varik offered a water bottle.

Lucen accepted.

Varik watched him sip, then nodded at his screen.

"You handle it how?"

"I handled it."

Varik considered.

Then said: "Strength isn’t measured by skill interface. It’s measured by structure."

Lucen looked at him.

Varik didn’t explain more.

Lucen just nodded. Finished his water.

They walked out together without more words.

—

The sword felt heavier than it did in training.

Not awkward. Not unfamiliar. Just... heavier. Like now it meant something.

Lucen adjusted the strap across his back as the guild truck hit a dip in the road, bouncing all six of them half an inch off their seats.

Gabe muttered something about suspension, her eyes locked on the mission slate hovering from her wristband. Across from them, two B-ranks were still arguing about clearance rotations. Lucen ignored them.

Gen leaned closer, voice low. "You’re bringing the blade today?"

Lucen nodded.

Gen raised an eyebrow. "Not using your usual?"

"I’ve got enough for emergencies," Lucen said, keeping his voice even. "Sword’s for testing."

Gen smirked. "You know how to use it?"

Lucen leaned his head back against the truck wall. "’I’ve been taught to use it,’ is how I’d phrase that."

Gabe spoke without looking up. "If you stab yourself, we’re leaving you behind."

Lucen snorted. "Fair."

The truck slowed. The suspension groaned. They were close.

Outside, through the reinforced glass, a steady smear of green flickered past, low treetops, glyph barriers, and then the edge of the containment zone.

The break hadn’t spread past the district edge yet, but that wouldn’t last long. Already the air shimmered faint, like heatwaves bending around invisible lines.

The truck stopped.

No sirens. No fanfare. Just a quiet slide as the doors hissed open.

Gabe was first out, hand up to her headset. "Ivara squad entering breach perimeter. Minor rift breach. Target zone is M-type monsters, low agility, moderate aggression. Primary objective: root stabilization, perimeter cleanup."

Lucen stepped down last. Boots hit gravel. Slight mana buzz under his heels, old runes, buried deep.

His sword was strapped down crosswise along his back. Not decorative. Plain steel. Leather grip. No custom etching. No stylish hilt. Just a weapon.

Gen glanced once. "You look like you know what you’re doing."

Lucen shrugged. "I’m great at looking like that."

The clearing was wide, roughly forty meters across, filled with loose rock and patches of cracked earth where the rift’s influence had warped the terrain.

Trees along the edge were leaning slightly in, like something was pulling them. In the center, a rupture shimmered, dull and pulsing. Barely open. But active.

Three other squads had already arrived, none from Ivara. Mix of guilds. Loose uniforms. A few independent hunters standing around pretending they were more important than they were.

One of them pointed as Lucen’s team walked in. "Great. Another babysitting crew."

A taller guy in half-armored gear crossed his arms. "More clean-up fodder. Hope you know how to not die."

Lucen didn’t answer.

Gabe ignored them too. She pulled up the perimeter map and motioned for her team to split.

Lucen stayed with Gen, sweeping the east edge. Broken stone, scorched plants, residual heat from whatever came through. Nothing moved yet.

But the shouting started fast.

Behind them, two of the independents were squared up, arguing about kill claims. One swung a polearm in irritation, nearly slicing someone’s ear.

Gen muttered, "Here we go."

Lucen didn’t look. "They gonna swing?"

"No way they’re that dumb—"

A blast of energy rippled through the space. Dirt kicked up. Someone screamed, short and loud. A blade hissed out of a sheath.

Lucen turned.

One of the guys, the one in black with silver lines down his sleeve—ha, just shoved another into the dirt. He was raising his blade again. Eyes wild.

"Back off!" he yelled. "That one was mine!"

Lucen exhaled.

Gen held up a hand. "Lucen, wait—"

Too late.

Lucen stepped in. Calm. No rush. His body moved before his brain really weighed the options.

The attacker looked up, and Lucen’s elbow was already mid-swing.

Not a wild hit. Not a wind-up. Just a compact forward step and a twist of the hips.

His elbow connected with the guy’s neck just under the jaw. Not bone. Not muscle. Nerve line.

The man dropped like he’d been unplugged. No shout. No second motion. Just a clean fold backward as if someone’d cut the strings.

Lucen stepped back.

Silence.

Every head turned.

Even the monsters seemed to pause.

’What the hell was that,’ Lucen thought, his arm still half-raised. ’That... didn’t feel like training. That felt like I meant it.’

Gen blinked.

The guy who’d been shoved earlier scrambled back like Lucen was radioactive. "What the—what’d you do?"

Lucen looked at his elbow. Then at the guy on the ground.

"He’ll be fine," Lucen muttered. "Eventually."

A few others moved to check on him. The woman with a bow knelt fast, checking for breath. She looked up, wide-eyed. "He’s out cold."

Gabe arrived three seconds later. Looked at the body, then at Lucen. "Did you—?"

Lucen nodded. "He was swinging wild."

"You elbowed him unconscious?"

Lucen scratched the back of his neck. "I guess?"

Gabe stared. "You guess?"

"Okay," he said. "I definitely did. But I didn’t plan it."

A few of the other teams backed off a step. The independent squad leader raised both hands like someone negotiating a hostage release. "We’re good, alright? All good. Let’s just close the rift."

Lucen exhaled slowly. ’Need to work on the restraint part.’

Gabe patted his shoulder. "Next time try a warning shout. Or a tackle."

He nodded. "Got it. Tackle."

"Right." She turned. "Squads move in. Close the breach. Ivara clears east. Let’s move."

They stepped through the twisted field toward the heart of the rift.

—

Monsters weren’t far behind.