“This blue web isn’t hurting us. I don’t even feel slower…” Jorgen clenched his jaw, measuring each breath, each heartbeat pounding in his chest. “Actually… I feel fine. Which means…”

  His voice rose suddenly, like thunder.

  “Marge, fire left! Luka, Nail, and Maik—attack from above and cloak me! I want to test something. Makina, don’t you dare fire your Resonance without my order!”

  “Huh?” Makina barely had time to open her mouth, confused, before her leader’s voice cut through the air like a bde.

  “Now!”

  Time seemed to shatter in that instant. Before anyone could fully grasp what their commander intended, Jorgen unched forward like a human projectile, forcing everyone to move in perfect sync.

  Marge reacted instantly. Her fingers trembled slightly, but her aim didn’t. Her technique burst like lightning, dragging Lorelley sideways. Sparks filled the air, and the pressure rattled their bones.

  Then Maik and Luka appeared with their Grand Shield, humming in the air like a metallic gong. Nail moved behind, a predator lurking in the shadows. Together, they sealed every escape route.

  Lorelley was trapped in a fwless geometric cage.

  “Porized Field,” Mike's body lit up in a yellow tone. “[Jorgen Macgrey].”

  A blink—and Jorgen vanished. The tension in the air fractured.

  Above, the light split—the edge of his technique ready to fall like a sentence.

  “Swordsman Technique I: Pierce ; Swordsman Technique III: Great Vertical Ssh ; Connect [Bite and Sever (Lorelley/Neck)] (28 P.R).”

  A sure strike. No room for error. The creature couldn’t anticipate or react to such speed. It was impossible.

  And yet…

  The blue threads trembled. A cold shiver shot through every bone. The same dull, paralyzing pain from before—the one he felt when Lorelley had tossed him aside like a ragdoll. He couldn’t move a single muscle.

  His eyes darted up. The others suffered the same fate—the threads were dancing, tightening like the strings of some macabre instrument.

  “I see!” he managed to grunt—

  A dry roar—BOOM!—tore through his eardrums. His body was thrown violently into the ground. The metallic earth cracked beneath the impact.

  “Arghhh!”

  “Jorgen!” Marge shouted, her boots scraping the dirt as she dodged a bst of acid Lorelley hurled to keep them at bay.

  “Boss!” Nail sprinted toward him, shield raised high, though strangely—the creature didn’t pursue.

  Jorgen stayed still for a second, chest heaving like a broken bellows. Then, blood staining his teeth, he muttered between ragged breaths,“It… it didn’t look at me… didn’t finish me off… just one strike…”

  His mind raced. Cold sweat mixed with the grime on his face.

  “I get it now…” his voice cracked, but determination fred. “Guys—it’s the threads! They’re like a web. When we activate our Resonances against it, we’re sending a signal. Then it reacts, triggers its field, and boosts its strike speed. But… it can only move in a straight line. That’s why it hit only me.”

  Nail clicked his tongue, tense.

  “So what, we kill it without using techniques?”

  Marge panted, her rifle trembling after another burst of suppressive fire to keep Lorelley pinned.Makina was also shooting—aiming for the wings.

  Naturally, the Floor Boss wasn’t about to let a single bullet graze her.

  “Easy for you to say! That bastard won’t nd—he’s not even letting us get close!”

  A short, heavy silence cracked the air. Jorgen clenched his fists, stood up on shaky legs, and spat blood to the side. The scar along his beard stretched into a rough smile.

  “…I’ve got it. One shot, one kill.” His eyes burned with a ferocity that reignited the group’s confidence. “Just one attack. I’ll distract it with my Resonance—let it crush my bones if it has to. Makina will finish it in a single shot. It’s not the first boss we’ve made bite the dust. If it keeps moving like that, we’ll restrain it.”

  He raised his voice, a roar that breathed life back into them.

  “Second formation—now!”

  Jorgen charged head-on at the insectoid without hesitation. His imposing figure cshed with the sickening hiss of the Ethereal. Each stride brought him closer to the monster, yet Nene couldn’t help but marvel—his steps were light, almost ghostlike, dodging the acidic projectiles that hissed as they scorched the ground. The air filled with smoke and a metallic stench, as if reality itself were rusting.

  When he finally had a chance to strike, he invoked another technique.

  “Swordsman Technique III: Great Vertical Ssh” (21 P.R)

  His greatsword rose, as though splitting the heavens, and from the bde burst a wave of compressed wind. The gale roared—dense enough to rip leaves from trees and twist the grass into spirals.

  Far behind, Nene felt the shockwave whip through her hair, sticking it to her tear-streaked face. A chill ran down her spine—it didn’t feel like an attack, but a natural disaster, a storm born from one man.

  But Lorelley wasn’t a simple prey. Her four wings beat violently, each pair moving at different angles, weaving an impossible pattern. She slipped through the air as if reality bent for her, dodging the ssh with repulsive grace.

  Nene’s heart sank. No way… she dodged it… She thought the boss fight was lost.

  And yet, Jorgen didn’t show fear. On his face bloomed an arrogant grin—the grin of a predator who still had fangs left to bare.

  “Hunter Technique III: Hunt!” (13.5 P.R)

  From the shadows, Marge emerged. Nene hadn’t even noticed her position until that moment—hidden beneath Lorelley’s flight path. The gunshot thundered, aimed not at where the monster was, but at where the huntress knew it would move.

  But the Ethereal wouldn’t fall for something that simple. Its wings twitched, twisting midair to change direction. The pn seemed doomed—until the rest of the squad moved like a single machine.

  Makina fired, forcing Lorelley to veer left.“Shieldbearer Technique II: Shield Formation!”(9 P.R)

  “Shieldbearer Technique II: Shield Formation!”(9 P.R)

  “Shieldbearer Technique II: Shield Formation!”(9 P.R)

  The three shieldbearers sealed the fnks—left, right, and rear. The metallic echo of their shields blended with Lorelley’s roar as she was forced to slow her flight.

  “Hunter Technique II: Net” (12 P.R)

  Marge fired again, and the projectile expanded midair, forming a glowing energy net that descended like a radiant snare. Anchoring between the shields, it sealed the trap’s ceiling.

  Nene understood instantly—the monster now had only two exits: forward or down. Both were death traps. Jorgen was preparing his Resonance from below, and Makina from the opposite side.

  “Swordsman Technique III: Great Vertical Ssh ; Connect [Bite and Sever (Lorelley/Cervix)].” (21 P.R)

  The threads tensed immediately, locking Jorgen’s body. He knew what was coming—but only shouted one thing:

  “Now! Makina, fire!” Jorgen roared, bracing his body to take Lorelley’s strike head-on…

  And yet, the attack never came.

  That’s when the Ethereal did something strange.

  Beneath its abdomen, a sack began to swell grotesquely, like the croak of a disfigured toad. Lorelley’s purple skin turned a sickly yellow, a bilious glow that spoke of decay.

  Nene froze. Her broken arm throbbed even more, as if screaming at her to run right now.

  That aura… that vibration in the air… She had seen it before.

  Her breath caught, and cold sweat drenched her instantly.

  “No…” she stammered, taking a step back. “I—I know that!”

  Weak insects didn’t st long enough for any normal Hunter to observe them for more than two seconds. She had already seen how the Neo squad shredded every monster in their path. That’s why Jorgen had no idea what was about to happen. But for her, that wasn’t the case.

  She watched them closely, every st detail—because not dying depended on it.

  Memories struck her mind like blows. Countless nights running. Watching lesser insects. Learning to read every twitch, every scent, every movement. The survival instinct she had honed in weakness screamed with terrifying crity that they were doomed.

  And then she understood.

  “GET AWAY FROM THERE!” Her voice cracked into a desperate shriek as she turned on her heel and ran against the wind, shoving Makina once more. Tears streamed down her face as she endured the searing pain in her right arm from the sudden movement.

  “What are you doing!?” Makina snapped, blocked from firing.

  Nene recognized it immediately: the paralyzing pollen technique of low-rank insects. Even a single touch on the skin meant seconds of immobility. But if that Ethereal was the size of a car, with a sack full of concentrated venom… the paralysis wouldn’t be brief. It would be total—for endless minutes in which everyone would be at the mercy of the beast.

  “Huh?”

  A wet noise, like the bursting of a thousand bubbles, spread through the wind. The three shielders surrounding Lorelley colpsed at once, veins bulging in their necks like taut cords. Yellowish pollen coated them in a poisonous mist, clinging to their eyeshes and the corners of their mouths.

  The sound of their bodies hitting the ground was grotesque—dry, and worse… final.

  Marge and Jorgen fell the same way, convulsing over the puddled ground.

  “W-What do we do now!?” the weakest of the group screamed hysterically. “Half of them are unconscious!”

  Panic spread like a crack through gss, but Makina roared back, slicing through it.

  “Calm the hell down! … Wait—why the fuck don’t you have that crap all over you?” she growled, her eyes bzing like embers as she fixed them on Nene.

  Bluish threads covered all her comrades, writhing around their limbs and faces like living worms of light. But Nene… was clean. As if the enemy had chosen to ignore her.

  “W-What? Huh? I—I didn’t even notice!” she stammered, pressing a trembling hand to her chest. The shake in her voice mixed with the metallic hum of the vibrating threads in the air.

  Makina gritted her teeth and fired again, an orange fsh lighting her sweat-streaked face.

  “What’s your Resonance? How the hell did you make that shield if you’re not a Shielder?”

  It hit her then—Nene didn’t have a Role. So it should’ve been impossible for her to use a Technique, let alone without a Role catalyst.What the hell did this girl just do?

  Nene stepped back, eyes gssy with fear.

  “M-My Resonance… it only lets me copy one ability for five seconds… and only at five percent of its power!” She clutched her right arm tightly, veins standing out as if recalling phantom pain.

  “So that thing didn’t see you as a threat… but you are one. That’s the key to winning… Listen, copy Jorgen’s techniques. Grab his weapon. I’ll cover you. We need to drag that thing away from here until they wake up.”

  The sniper aimed again, firing to drive Lorelley several meters back, away from their paralyzed teammates.

  “B-But just because I can copy something doesn’t mean I know how to use it! I’m not a swordswoman like Sir Jorgen! And my arm hurts!”

  “Trust yourself more. I told you, you did great before. I just need you to be a little stronger. I know you can. Now go!”

  Her voice echoed through the forest as she leapt fearlessly back into the fray.

  Each gunshot was a fsh of lightning revealing Lorelley’s shape darting between shadows. Its speed was unnatural—appearing to the left, then the right, then above, as if the very air were its springboard.

  The bullets grazed its form but never struck true. Lorelley moved with terrifying grace, leaving luminous trails behind—like blue bdes slicing through the dark.

  Makina fired relentlessly, refusing to use her Resonance to avoid triggering that blue field. The rifle’s recoil numbed her shoulders, but she refused to loosen her grip.

  But Nene… stood frozen.

  “Argh! Nene, what are you doing!? Move and grab the greatsword!” Makina’s roar was lost among the deafening bsts.

  She knew she had to move. She really did. She wanted to. She was about to. It’s just that…

  “I-I’m scared…”

  Seeing the convulsing bodies of the Neo squad filled her with terror.What could she possibly do? A useless girl who couldn’t even survive on her own.

  Their faces were pale, slick with cold sweat, muscles stiff as statues under the bite of the blue threads. The grinding of their teeth pierced her ears like needles.

  And now they expected her to be some kind of miracle savior?

  Ha! What a joke. A good one—so good it made the blood-soaked girl ugh. But not out of amusement. Out of despair.

  Makina caught her breakdown in the corner of her eye, understood it, but she had no time for that kind of bullshit right now.

  “Then at least help me drag these idiots out of here!”

  Nene stepped back again, trembling like a leaf in a storm.“B-But… if I get close… I’ll…!”

  Makina spun toward her, eyes bzing with fury and desperation.

  “You said you wanted to be better, but you don’t even try!” she spat, her voice sharp as shattered gss. “If you want to live like that, then leave—but if you really want to change, take the first step! Move and carry one of them… now! I’ll kill this thing!”

  The air around them vibrated. A chilling hiss sliced through the dark—Lorelley appeared behind Makina, its fanged maw twisted into a mockery of a smile, lit by the glow of the blue threads.

  Makina barely had time to raise her rifle, blocking with the barrel. The impact was brutal—a metallic fsh, sparks raining down, and a thunderous crash that shook the walls. Her body was hurled several meters, scraping against the ground with a horrible screech.

  “Tch!” She spat blood, staggering but refusing to drop her weapon.

  Nene clutched her mouth, heart hammering so hard it hurt. Makina—the one who had shouted in her face, the one who seemed indestructible—was staggering.

  “If you want to live, move.”

  The words echoed in her skull like a hammer strike.

  And before her, Lorelley advanced once more—its form warping into a shadow that devoured everything in its path.