Veins bulged on Corin’s forehead, sweat dripping in heavy beads down his face. He tried to drive his fist into Zeon’s abdomen—but his arm had no strength. The crushing pressure on his nape was too overwhelming. That grip—easily stronger than the jaw force of most beasts. No ordinary awakened fighter could even compare. At this rate, his neck might really snap. He actually heard it. The faint sound of his own neck bone fracturing. Fear flooded him—the fear that his spine might shatter at any moment. Snot and spit spilled uncontrollably from his mouth. Shaping and Dempleton, who should have helped, were both sprawled on the ground in shambles. As for Jupiro and the others, not a single thought of helping crossed their minds. Even their captain, Uslann, only watched, arms crossed. ‘I’m really going to die… …?’ Terror washed his mind white. Pride no longer mattered. Corin forced words out through trembling lips. “What was that? Too quiet—I couldn’t hear.” “My fault. I was wrong. Please forgive me!” Google seaʀᴄh novel⚑fire.net Corin shouted as loud as he could, voice cracked and desperate. Only then did Zeon release his grip. The unbearable pressure vanished, and Corin’s legs gave out. He collapsed to the ground, gasping, sucking in air. As oxygen rushed back, his fogged mind cleared—and the shame struck. He, who had always mocked humans, had yielded under human strength. Apologized before everyone. Tears welled up from the humiliation. Yet not one comrade offered comfort. Jupiro, Alonso—only smirks. Not a step closer. Even Uslann’s voice was cold. “Take this as a good lesson.” “Captain? How could you say that to me…?” “Have you forgotten? I’m human too.” “Don’t expect me to avenge you.” Uslann’s frosty reply left Corin speechless. On his knees, hollow-eyed, he stared only at the ground. Uslann’s gaze turned to Zeon. “So you can use your body as well.” “I was trained harshly in the past.” “Whoever taught you… remarkable.” “Yes. He was an incredible man.” His martial skills had all been forced out of him by Deioden. Not taught directly—but beaten into him through trials at the brink of death. What he’d gained surpassed most awakened fighters. Enough that Shaping, a beastkin warrior, hadn’t even been able to put up resistance. Uslann didn’t scold Zeon for humiliating his subordinate. On the contrary—he was glad. Glad that someone had crushed Corin’s arrogance in his stead. At that moment, Shaping stirred. The face Zeon had battered was already whole again, restored by the terrifying recovery of a werewolf. But though his body healed, his spirit had not. He dared not meet Zeon’s eyes. The fear carved into him had reached the depths of his soul. Fear like that did not fade easily. Not even for a werewolf. As for Dempleton the dwarf—needless to say. He who always acted bold, fearless—crumpled like a lamb under overwhelming violence. With Corin broken, Shaping crushed, and himself flattened without resistance, Dempleton had no thought of standing against Zeon again. His will had snapped completely. He raged inside, but even that he could not show. He knew. To lash out again here would be suicide. In the end, Dempleton only helped Corin up, with Shaping at his side, and the three slunk away. Only then did Zeon sit again. And felt it—someone’s gaze. Neria, staring straight at him. “Nothing. Just… thought you fought well.” “Better than anyone I’ve seen. But why didn’t you use mana? You could’ve killed them easily.” “Because I wasn’t fighting to kill.” “Why not? They’re enemies.” “They’re not enemies worth killing. Just… on a different path.” At his words, Neria wrinkled her nose, displeased. But she didn’t press further. Zeon only watched her, her face thoughtful, as though debating something. Zeon lay in bed, eyes on the ceiling. The lodge was built of volcanic stone. Bed, walls, ceiling—volcanic stone everywhere. The strange texture made it hard to sleep. A strong tremor rose from the ground. The vibration shook through his body. He got up, moving to the window. Outside loomed Pankrena Volcano. From its peak poured thick, gray smoke—far heavier than in the day. The tremors were from that eruption. And they didn’t stop. The ground kept rumbling, enough to shake him on his feet. ‘Could it be… close to blowing?’ But the lodge atmosphere was strange. No alarm, no panic. Too quiet. The Pankrena Rangers, perhaps—that made sense. They’d lived here long, dulled to quakes. But the caravan? Uslann’s party? This was their first time back in ages. Yet they too reacted not at all. “Am I too sensitive? Or is everyone else numb?” The weight in his chest grew stifling. He finally stepped outside. Cool night air might ease it. But someone was already there. Black hair swaying, gray eyes gleaming—Neria. She stood, staring blankly up at Pankrena. Sensing him, she turned. “Yes. Couldn’t sleep.” “You heard the volcano’s crying?” “I only felt the tremors grow stronger.” “It’s like a child reaching maturity. Growth always brings pain. That pain makes it cry.” “Yes. That’s why it hurts. That’s why it cries.” Zeon lifted his gaze to the volcano, new light in his eyes. Another quake struck. And this time, it truly sounded like a sob. “Then the greater the pain, the bigger the eruption.” “If Pankrena explodes, what happens here?” “Everything wiped away. Not a trace.” “Who knows. Likely danger.” Zeon’s eyes sank dark. He hadn’t been there yet, but he was certain. El Harun must be protected by powerful wards. Stronger than Neo Seoul’s defenses, or at least not weaker. After all, magic and barriers—those came from Kurayan. Not the same anti-magic field as Neo Seoul, but surely formidable enough. What kind of civilization had the Kurayan races built? A modern metropolis like Neo Seoul? Or a subterranean city like Geoseong? ‘Soon enough, I’ll know.’ Neria’s voice drew him back. “Zeon. Are you… excited?” “Your face. You looked excited.” She nodded, then after a pause, asked: “You said you’re from Neo Seoul, right?” “What kind of place is it?” “A city humans built to survive on Earth. It carries our old civilization intact. Towering buildings tens of meters high, where magic and science blend. Ten million people live inside.” “And another ten million in the slums outside. Over twenty million rely on Neo Seoul.” “Hard to imagine. That many humans together… Don’t you feel suffocated?” “We do. But there’s safety in numbers.” She tilted her head. The word puzzled her. “Humans are far weaker than elves, dwarves, beastkin. Unless awakened, we can’t match them. Even the lowest beasts threaten our survival. That’s humanity.” “Yes. That’s why we gather. Because we know our weakness. Together, we survive.” “Isn’t that shameful?” “Needing to huddle together because you can’t stand alone. Isn’t that humiliating?” “What value is pride before survival? Once dead, pride means nothing. Even shame—you need to be alive to feel it.” “I see. Earth’s humans think that way…” Neria nodded, as if learning something new. “And Kurayan’s humans? Aren’t they the same?” “I never paid them much attention. I don’t know how they think, how they live.” “But you came from Kurayan, didn’t you?” “Yes. But I wasn’t interested in humans there. So I never learned.” “Sorry I couldn’t answer properly.” Suddenly, Neria smiled. “Zeon—you seem like a good man.” “So I hope you live long.” His reply pleased her. Smiling, she stepped closer, eyes rising to his. “That’s why… I want you to turn back here, Zeon.”