CHAPTER 181: [ATTACK THOSE STUPID S-CLASS HUNTERS!]

’They’re fighting... the system is broken... my head hurts... I—’

Eli’s thoughts came in fragments, slipping through the cracks of his panic like water through his fingers.

He stood frozen, staring at the chaos unfolding before him.

Two teams—both powerful, both dangerous—colliding like storms.

Kairo’s and Caelen’s.

Blades clashed. Mana flared. Fire and bloodlight carved the forest apart. The ground trembled with every impact, and the air stung with the metallic taste of energy burning too bright.

But Eli couldn’t see them.

He could hear them—feel them even—but their shapes were lost to him, just flashes of sound and power.

He could only tell where they were from their teams’ reactions—Mio’s threads slicing through the air, Punzo’s flames roaring to life, Zaira shouting warnings, Mel and Jabby straining to keep up.

They were there. Both of them.

And they were fighting.

Probably because of him.

’What do I do now?’

The question tore through his chest like a plea. His hands were shaking; he didn’t even realize he’d been gripping at his shirt until his knuckles went white.

This—this wasn’t supposed to happen.

The arrival of Caelen’s team was supposed to be a miracle.

A blessing.

The game-changing twist that would even the odds.

They were supposed to help.

They were supposed to save them.

But now, the forest was collapsing around them, and the real enemy—the SS-Class serpent—was gone. Nowhere in sight.

Eli’s pulse raced, every beat sharp and heavy against his ribs. His mind refused to stay still; every thought that surfaced crashed into another.

’Think, Eli, think... you need to think. You need to get out of here. You need to survive. You need to help Lucas and Mom...’

His breathing came uneven. The world around him felt wrong—distorted, flickering like a half-rendered dream. The air shimmered, warped by the clashing auras and his own spiraling panic.

He pressed a trembling hand against his temple, trying to shut out the noise, the light, the fear.

But his head only throbbed harder.

The system wasn’t responding anymore. Its familiar glow—the voice that had guided, mocked, and saved him—was gone.

Even his Danger Sense was silent. No warnings. No pain. Just emptiness.

And all he could do was watch—helpless—as the people who were supposed to fight together tore each other apart. Flames and bloodlight, wind and glass, colliding in violent bursts. The forest echoed with the sounds of power, rage, and desperation.

Eli’s chest tightened. He looked down, staring at the crushed grass beneath his boots, his reflection trembling faintly in a puddle of rainwater. "What can I do?" he whispered, voice breaking. "What... should I do?"

The world gave no answer. Only the distant clash of power and the low crackle of burning wood.

Then—

Ding.

The sound was sharp, clear, and impossibly loud in the silence of his mind.

Eli’s head snapped up, eyes wide. For a second—just a second—hope flared in his chest. The system was back. It had to be. Maybe it had finally fixed itself, maybe it would tell him what to do—

But when the interface flickered to life in front of him...

It wasn’t stable.

The system’s screen flickered violently—lines of corrupted code tearing through the air like fractures in reality itself.

Symbols bled into each other, letters twisted and blinked in and out of existence, and for a split second, Eli thought it was going to crash again—to vanish like before and leave him in the dark.

But this time... it didn’t.

The chaos froze.

All the static, all the noise, all the flickering lines went still just long enough for one broken message to pulse through the glitching haze—

[Fin#ish th@e t@#asks&^$]

The words burned white-hot against the dark, each character trembling before fading into the air like smoke.

Eli stared at it, unmoving. His pulse pounded in his ears, too loud, too fast.

’Finish the tasks...’

Of course.

’The tasks weren’t random. They never were.’

His breath hitched as the realization slammed into him. The missions were steps. Not just meaningless system challenges—they were designed to push Kairo and Caelen together, to make them act, to force something to change.

Maybe to fix this.Maybe to fix everything.

He didn’t know if it would fix the system—but it might fix his situation.

It was his only way forward. His only way home.

And if he could do that... if he could survive this, get them to work together, he could figure out the rest later.

Right now, neither of them could touch him.He couldn’t even see them.

But that didn’t mean he was helpless.

If the system wanted him to finish the missions, then he would.

No matter how reckless. No matter how dangerous.

Eli’s gaze lifted toward the horizon—toward the jagged scar of destruction stretching deep into the forest. Trees splintered like matchsticks.

The earth itself crushed and blackened, torn apart by something colossal.

The serpent’s trail.

It wasn’t gone.

It was alive.

Still here.

Still moving.

And for some reason... it was hiding.

Eli’s pulse quickened, that familiar, dangerous spark igniting in his chest.

"That’s it..." he whispered, voice rough but steady, resolve threading through each syllable. "If they have to chase me—if they have to fight it—they’ll have no choice but to work together."

He looked back at the chaos behind him.

Through the mist, bursts of blue and red mana collided—Kairo and Caelen’s teams locked in a brutal dance of pride and power. Each strike was another wasted moment.

Each flare of aura, another reminder that they were too busy fighting each other to see the real threat right in front of them.

Eli’s jaw tightened.

’They only seem to work together when it comes to yelling at me.’

Different tones, same intent—Kairo with his quiet reprimands, Caelen with his mocking smirks—but both always found a way to agree.

And now, that might actually save them.

Kairo saw Eli as someone who needed saving.

Caelen had this sick sense of saving Eli to act like he’s the hero.

Either way—

If the SS-Class serpent appeared again, both of them would act.

Both would fight.

And both would have to work together.

Eli turned back to the flickering, half-glitched window, lowering his voice as if speaking to something fragile.

"Hey... if you can still hear me," he murmured, breath catching, "make me invisible. Like before. Please."

No answer. No ding. Just silence.

Then—

A chill rolled over his skin.

It was subtle.

The air rippled faintly around him. His reflection shimmered in the puddle at his feet—then disappeared. His hands faded from sight, dissolving into mist.

The system had listened.

Eli’s heart slammed once against his ribs. "Thank you," he breathed, a small, disbelieving smile flickering across his lips.

Then, without another word—he turned toward the serpent’s trail.

No time to hesitate.

’Now I can finally see if any of the upgrades actually work.’

The thought pulsed through Eli’s head as the air around him shimmered faintly. The ground beneath his boots vibrated with a quiet hum—mana surging through his body like a second heartbeat. His veins tingled, the familiar heaviness in his limbs dissolving into something weightless, almost electric.

He exhaled shakily, then grinned. "Alright," he whispered, crouching low as his heartbeat steadied. "You can do this."

Then—he ran.

The world blurred around him.

He wasn’t moving as fast as an S-Class hunter, not even close—but it was fast enough. Faster than he’d ever been before. His movements cut through the air soundlessly; the invisibility wrapping around him muted even the scrape of his boots against the dirt.

Every stride carried him deeper into the serpent’s path—a scar of destruction carved straight through the forest. Trees lay uprooted, trunks split and blackened. The air shimmered with heat and the faint metallic scent of mana discharge.

Eli’s breath came in quick bursts, fogging faintly in the cold air. His lungs burned, but his body didn’t slow. He felt alive—terrified, yes, but alive in a way that bordered on manic.

’Don’t stop. Just move.’

He didn’t look back.

Behind him, faint echoes reached through the forest—the distant roar of magic colliding, the clang of weapons, the shouts of people who couldn’t see him but were still calling his name.

They’d notice soon. They’d realize he was gone.

And when they did—They’d come after him.

Together.

A flicker of determination sparked in his chest, bright and desperate. "Now I just have to hope they decide to work together," he muttered under his breath, eyes narrowing as the hum of mana ahead grew louder, almost like the forest itself was breathing.

He pushed forward, vanishing deeper into the mist.

"God," he whispered, voice trembling but sure, "please make them work together."

And that’s how he ended up here.

In this situation.

Climbing on top of a creature that could crush him with a flick of its tail—a serpent so massive its coiled body looked more like a collapsed mountain range than flesh and scale.

Its head was half-buried beneath the torn earth, the ground rising and falling faintly with each slow, thunderous breath it took.

It was asleep. Deeply.

Eli could feel the faint rumble through his boots—the vibration of its heartbeat echoing beneath the soil. Just being this close made his skin prickle with mana, a suffocating pressure rolling off the creature in slow, steady waves.

’God, it’s huge...’

He’d known it was massive, but seeing it up close was something else entirely. The serpent wasn’t just bigger than a building—it was a landscape. Each scale was the size of a shield, sharp at the edges, layered like armor.

It had taken him forever to climb. His muscles screamed with every movement, his breath burning in his throat, but the jagged scales made the impossible climb possible. They dug into his gloves and boots, anchoring him when his strength almost gave out.

Still, he didn’t stop.He couldn’t.

And finally—after what felt like hours—he reached high enough.

Close to the creature’s head, but not too close.A height where he could be seen.And maybe, if luck was on his side, not immediately killed.

Eli’s chest rose and fell rapidly. His palms were slick with sweat, his body trembling from effort and adrenaline.

He looked down at the enormous, unmoving serpent below him. Then, slowly, he gritted his teeth.

"Alright..." he muttered under his breath. "Let’s do this."

Then he did the most reckless, suicidal thing imaginable.

He cupped his hands around his mouth and yelled.

"HEY, YOU DUMB FUCKING BOSS MONSTER! WAKE UP!!!"

His voice tore through the mist, echoing across the ruined clearing.

When that didn’t seem enough, he stomped down hard on the serpent’s scales—again and again—the sound a sharp thud against its armor-like hide.

"WAKEY, WAKEY!" he shouted louder, each word bouncing with a wild mix of fear and desperation.

’Come on... you have to wake up. You have to get up and attack those stupid S-Class hunters who keep fighting.’