Cutting off Necross's head right now... that was a nice thought, but I clearly knew I couldn't do it.

The Stasis Rune—a magic that "stops" time in this world for 10 seconds.

It's an almost perfect, powerful spell: requires almost no casting time, cannot be countered.

However, with my current ability and understanding, using it had three fatal flaws.

First, its mana requirement was staggering. A single use drained over ninety percent of my reserves. If not for the three remaining recovery potions in my hand, using this move would be suicidal.

Second, after each activation, my mind and body needed at least several breaths of recovery time to withstand the burden of a second activation.

That brief gap was more than enough for an enemy like Necross to kill me a hundred times over.

Lastly, and most crucially—all entities other than myself, because time was completely halted, were effectively in a state of "absolute defense." They could not receive any form of damage, physical or magical.

To inflict effective harm on Necross, I would first have to touch it, "liberating" a part of its body from the temporal stasis.

But doing that would mean I would inevitably be the first to endure the direct hit of the death magic that even Sylvia couldn't withstand, dying instantly on the spot.

...In the end, I didn't even know where the core was within Necross's body, stitched together from countless corpses.

So, from the very beginning, I never intended to kill Necross within those 10 seconds of stasis. That earlier roar was just a bluff, a fierce speech to mask my true purpose.

One second passed.

I condensed frigid energy in my hand, forged two ice spikes, used them to pluck the true eyeball from Necross's grasp, sealed it layer by layer in ice, and placed it in my chest pocket. This time, the eyeball in my belt pouch reacted. It was the real one.

The red pupil... there probably wasn't time to retrieve it.

Three seconds passed.

I casually threw ice spikes at Necross, imbuing them with Permafrost power. The spikes left my hand and froze in mid-air; but when time began to flow again, they would pierce the fiendish elf's skull at an unchanging speed.

Four seconds passed.

I mobilized the last bit of mana remaining in my body, activated a rune, and temporarily froze all accumulated "fatigue" and "pain" sensations.

This way, I could ignore injuries and pain in the short term, exerting my maximum mobility.

My mana was completely depleted. I immediately crushed the second recovery potion, letting that pure energy violently flood my body, bringing a slight dizziness.

Six seconds passed.

I didn't hesitate any longer. In one swift motion, I rushed to Sylvia's side. Ignoring the softness of her body and those still enchanting curves, I slid one hand behind her neck and the other under her knees, scooping her up in my arms.

Her body was light, yet felt unbearably heavy due to the fading life within her. Holding her, I charged straight toward the nearest, relatively intact stall.

Seven, eight, nine, ten...

Time began to flow!

The frozen dust in the air began to drift again. The sounds of the fleeing crowd, their cries and wails, rushed back like a tidal wave.

Holding Sylvia, I barely managed to duck behind the stall's shadow in the last instant of the stasis, hiding from Necross's direct line of sight.

With a quick glance from the corner of my eye toward the plaza center—good!

The two ice spikes had, as expected, accurately pierced Necross's patchwork face, sinking deep into the eye sockets, leaving two grotesque, bloody holes!

But... the monster didn't let out any roar of pain. It merely shook its head slightly in confusion, and the wounds on its face began to writhe, heal, and restore themselves to normal at a visible rate.

...As expected! Attacks of this level were completely ineffective against it. We had to leave here quickly, to rendezvous with Mr. Wilson at the Silverleaf Workshop!

Just as I was anxiously searching for the next cover and escape route, Sylvia in my arms stirred slightly.

My heart tightened. I hurriedly looked down and saw she had slightly opened her bloodshot, lifeless eyes, looking at me with an extremely weak, probing gaze.

She raised a cool finger, gently touching my cheek.

Her lips moved a few times, emitting a voice as faint as a breath, yet carrying a sense of relief and reassurance:

"Grey...? You came..."

"...Grey?"

My heart felt as if clutched by a cold hand; my breath hitched instantly.

"It's me."

Hearing my voice, Sylvia's slightly relieved expression instantly turned blank, then morphed into complete panic and fear.

She began pounding my chest with her weak, soft fists, trying to break free from my embrace.

"Adam?!... No! Hurry... run by yourself... I'm done for... don't worry about me..."

Hah, done for?

But just now, when you called that name, your tone was full of relief and hope, not a trace of despair.

Seeing her pounding was ineffective, Sylvia began to weakly writhe, as if trying to roll out of my arms. She kept muttering, like someone trapped in a nightmare:

"I am the hero... can't implicate others..."

...

"Stop moving, or Necross will notice."

...

"...Ugh."

She finally quieted down and stopped struggling, just curling up in my arms, trembling uncontrollably.

I stared at her face, which had lost its usual brilliance, a complex, indescribable ache rising in my heart.

With great effort, I forced these distracting thoughts down and refocused my attention on the maze-like, densely packed stalls before me.

Three more uses of Stasis remained.

The plaza wasn't too far from the Silverleaf Workshop. If I could use these stalls to hide effectively, I should be able to shake off Necross!

Holding Sylvia tight, I lightened my footsteps, crouching low as I moved through the stalls.

Then, Sylvia's voice drifted to me from far behind.

"Adam, that move just now was really amazing. Can you teach me?"

My entire body stiffened; my footsteps halted abruptly. My heart almost leaped out of my throat! I looked back in disbelief.

Necross was walking toward me.

At the same time, its face, hair color, physique, build... even the color of its pupils were changing at a visible, grotesque rate, finally becoming identical to the Sylvia I held in my arms!

It smiled lazily and mockingly, callously stepping on and breaking a corpse's neck... with Sylvia's face.

My temples throbbed violently. A fury like a volcano gathered and churned in my chest, almost spilling out.

I bit my tongue hard, using the sharp pain to forcibly suppress the rage threatening to overwhelm my reason. Without a word, I turned and continued to flee!

"Don't like it? How about this one?"

The voice from behind changed again. This time... it was imitating...

My mind went blank instantly. My steps faltered again; I almost lost my footing.

It was the voice of a slightly plump middle-aged man, gentle, kindly, with a touch of scholarly refinement. A unique tone I had only heard in childhood memories...

Thomas Hammer... my deceased father.

How did it know my father's voice?

No! Not just the voice. From the corner of my eye, I saw Necross's form had changed into a slightly plump, gentle-looking middle-aged man wearing thick glasses.

That face... that face which existed only in the deepest, most blurred recesses of my memory.

This defiler of everything... what role did it play in that damned beast tide ten years ago?

Uncontrollable rage washed over my limbs like magma. I instinctively tensed every muscle; every cell screamed to turn back, to charge, to tear this monster mimicking my father's image to shreds!

Kill it! Now! Immediately! Right now! Regardless of whether I could do it! I had to do it with my own hands...

"Ugh."

Sylvia in my arms let out an extremely faint, suppressed moan of pain, seemingly uncomfortable from my unconscious tight grip.

She immediately tried to swallow the sound back, but that subtle noise was like a bucket of ice water, instantly dousing the raging fire in my heart.

Calm down, calm down. It's doing this to provoke me into coming out. Can't fall for the trap.

I forced myself to turn my head away, no longer looking at the monster wearing my father's face, and continued moving through the stalls.

The familiar entrance to Coinsmith Street appeared at the edge of my vision.

My father's voice, like a bone-burrowing maggot, traversed ten years of time, clearly sounding in my ear, carrying a gentle, reminiscent tone:

"About nine years... no, calculating carefully, it should be ten years ago, one autumn. The weather was lovely that day. A very beautifully shaped birch leaf happened to fall onto my windowsill."

"So, on a whim, I went for a walk in the wilderness. By chance, I found a dead frozen魔族 robber by the roadside. Even though he was long dead, he was still clutching a dirty half-copper coin in his hand. Truly pitiful."

"I awakened him with hope, only to find his desires were pathetically shallow—just wanting to rob some money in Silverleaf Town."

"But then again, maybe that's for the best? Even if the ritual can't be completed, killing a few people is quite amusing, enough to pass the time."

...For this kind of... nonsensical reason?!

My heart hammered violently; blood felt like it would burst my vessels. I forced myself to focus my attention completely on the road ahead leading to Coinsmith Street.

Near the street entrance, there were several figures in gray mage robes! They all wore those faintly glowing obsidian badges on their chests... mage corps members! They were here!

Go to them for help! Yes, just get over there! Don't listen! Don't think about a single word from that monster behind me!

"It was the early morning after the Harvest Festival ended."

"There was a mage who was usually undisciplined. That afternoon, he couldn't resist having a few drinks during the festivities. That day, it happened to be his turn to guard the northwestern part of the town, the area near the potion shop."

"So, we killed him and entered the town."

"Speaking of which, that robber had really bad luck, and his mind wasn't too sharp either. He originally intended to rob the Silverleaf Workshop directly but forgot the way for a moment."

"He took a bottle of cheap ale from that mage, drank a few sips, and casually tossed the cork into the air, wanting to decide the direction that way."

"Such a pity. The cork didn't land on the road leading to the Silverleaf Workshop and the commercial district."

"It landed on the remote path leading to the potion shop... and your house."

"And so... because of a birch leaf that fell by chance, because of a cork tossed at random..."

"Your father died."

A thick, coppery taste flooded my mouth. A sharp ringing filled my ears. My brain was a tangled mess; my ability to think became fragmented and chaotic.

Ignore it, Adam! Ignore it! It's all fake! Lies it fabricated to shake you!

I sped up, reaching the last stall near the street.

The nearest mage-robed figure was just a few meters away! Just one more dash...

I forcibly steadied my breathing, condensed a small ice sphere, and tossed it toward the mage's feet, trying to get his attention.

The ice sphere rolled to the mage's feet, making a slight sound. Yet, the person seemed completely unaware, still standing with his back to me, motionless.

Damn it! Deaf or blind?! Turn around! Can't you see the monster behind me?! Kill it!!

I formed a second ice sphere, about to throw it directly at him, when he turned around first, revealing my father's face.

I jolted in horror, instinctively taking two steps back, accidentally knocking over a basket of apples.

I looked at the apples, then locked eyes with "Father," now just an arm's length away.

Then, my father's voice came simultaneously from in front of me... and right by my ear.

"As for you, child... you will die because of these fallen apples."