Chapter Twelve: Fire in the Shadows, Eyes in Wait
Eyas hurled himself into a storm of double-time tasks—running, fighting, scheming in a relentless loop. Sweat slid from his brow like a summer downpour while challenges lined up, each harder than the last.
Then—
Ding!
A familiar chime cracked his focus.
Incoming call. A name lit the translucent screen: Rojin.
Eyas exhaled, irritation riding his breath. His fingers hovered before he tapped accept.
Rojin's face burst across the display, bright with barely contained excitement, blue-gray eyes dancing.
"Eyaaaas! What are you doing? Tell me, quick!"
"Not now, little snoop. I'm busy." His voice stayed flat, the edge unmistakable.
Rojin leaned closer, unbothered. "Come ooon! Just a hint—dangerous? Thrilling? Deadly? I have to know!"
Click. He cut the line mid-plea without a flicker of apology.
On her end, Rojin froze, mouth open, then flushed crimson from ears to fingertips. "Who does he think he is?" she hissed, lips curling. "Hangs up on me? Oh, sweet friend… you'll pay for that."
She muttered to herself, a sly grin creeping in.
"I'll scramble that clever brain of yours, wind you up until you can't breathe, and then—"
A wicked chuckle spilled out. "Then I'll devour you, my tasty—"
Thwack!
"Yooow!" Rojin yelped, clutching her head.
Behind her stood Leila, eyes glinting with a mix of fury and dry amusement, fist still raised.
"Saving you from your own nonsense," she said, voice sharpened by a knowing smirk.
Rojin rubbed her scalp, pouting. "Why interfere? It's none of your business!"
Leila's gaze hardened, a weight Rojin rarely saw.
"Eyas isn't ordinary. Be careful with him."
That pierced Rojin's annoyance. "I know he's not ordinary… but why warn me like that?"
Leila's smile turned secretive.
"Didn't you notice? Even I couldn't touch his mind."
Rojin's brow lifted. "But you never use full strength, right? You're always gentle with guests."
"True. I used maybe twenty percent. Enough to shatter the consciousness of anyone past the twentieth floor." Pride flickered in Leila's eyes. "Eyas? Unmoved."
Silence stretched.
"That makes no sense," Rojin whispered. "He barely cleared the first floor… and his mental resistance outstrips upper-floor elites?"
She hesitated. "But… Saman felt it. Didn't he?"
Leila's expression stayed unreadable. "Yes—and no."
Rojin threw her hands up. "What does that even mean? Stop talking in riddles!"
A low laugh. "At first, yes. But within seconds he broke the mental snare completely."
Rojin's eyes widened. "Then why pretend memory loss afterward?"
"Because he's smarter than you," Leila said, tone suddenly sharp. "Maybe he didn't want to rattle me after seeing Eyas untouched. Or maybe… he wanted us to believe exactly that."
Rojin's confusion deepened. "Mother! What are you hiding?"
"Not everything is ready for understanding," Leila said quietly. "Just remember this: Saman is no less than Eyas. Both of them carry something vast—something not of simple origin."
Rojin stood frozen, thoughts colliding. How much did she really know about the friends closest to her?
---
Eighth Floor – Heart of the Dark Forest
Saman crouched on the limb of an ancient giant of a tree, a shadow among shadows. Below, a goblin village pulsed with firelight and guttural chatter. A translucent system window shimmered before him:
[Current Mission]
• Eliminate 10 Goblin Officers
• Kill 2 Commanders
• Steal a treasure rated Rare+ or higher
Time left: 40 of 50 hours
Reward: +50 Power Points, Rare Boost Elixir, Rare Healing Elixir
Penalty: Difficulty raised to maximum + 24-hour survival trial
He whispered as he counted targets.
"Ranks… Common, Uncommon, Soldier, Officer, Captain, Commander, High Commander, Chief… then the elite, the legendary."
Roughly forty goblins. Too many.
His hands trembled. "Maybe I rushed the eighth floor…"
Memories of sparring with Eyas clawed back—those impossible feints and ruthless tactics.
"Eyas," he breathed, half awe, half fear. "That mind of his… terrifying."
He tilted his head to catch the wind, then launched.
The leap was a black flash, darkness trailing like smoke. With each circuit of the village he wove shadow magic to mask his presence, fire and wind spirits fueling his speed. He became a burning cyclone.
Huts of wood and straw caught like tinder. Flames roared, devouring greedily. Goblin screams tore through the night as chaos consumed them.
An hour later, fourteen goblins lay dead, eight of them officers.
Twenty-six remained, scorched and staggering.
Then—
Grrrrraaaahhh!
The ground quaked. A roar like grinding stone froze the air.
Through the rising inferno strode the Goblin Commander, wreathed in a crimson aura, death promised in every step.
Saman felt the weight of real danger at last.
"At last," he murmured, forcing calm, "the true beast shows itself."
---
Elsewhere
Rashad panted like a man finishing a marathon. "Asia… don't you ever get tired?"
Asia's laugh rang bright. "We just started, darling!"
He groaned. "I'm spent. You don't know the meaning of exhaustion."
"Stop whining, big child," she shot back, affectionate and firm.
[Third-person view: Rashad staggering under a mountain of colorful shopping bags while Asia drifted ahead, light as a butterfly.]
Asia halted suddenly, nose twitching. A sweet, heady perfume floated closer, footsteps confident.
Her face tightened. "She's here… the nuisance."
A fox-grace figure sprang forward and wrapped Rashad in a sudden embrace.
"Rashaaad! I missed you, handsome."
The words were meant for him, but the challenge in her eyes was for Asia.
Leila.
The air snapped with silent sparks as the two women locked eyes—a quiet battlefield ready to ignite.
---
End of Chapter Twelve