Hajin coughed, a thick glob of blood spilling past his lips and dripping down his chin as he looked at the spike still protruding from his chest.

The pain hit a moment later, sharp and deep, his breathing turning labored and his vision swimming in a way that made it clear this was not a wound he could just shake off.

’Of course,’ he thought, a bitter taste filling his mouth that had nothing to do with the blood, ’I let my guard down because it looked like it was done. Stupid.’

He grabbed the spike with both hands, his jaw clenching as he prepared to pull it out, but before he could, Juna’s voice cut through the chaos, distant but sharp with panic, "Master!"

"I’m fine," he muttered, though the words came out wet and thin.

Before the worm could make another move, Helen vanished.

She crossed the distance in a blink, her rapier trailing a silver arc that was barely visible to the eye, the blade slicing through the air in a series of rapid, precise strokes that left afterimages in their wake.

The worm’s face split along a dozen lines at once, deep gashes opening across its scales as black blood sprayed from the wounds, letting out a sharp hiss before launching itself backward to put distance between them, its eye wide with genuine surprise.

Helen landed near Hajin without looking back at him, her rapier dripping black fluid as she clicked her tongue.

"You act so arrogant for someone who is still this weak," she said, her voice carrying a cold edge that cut sharper than her blade, "charging in like you are invincible, and this is what happens. You get a hole through your chest and we have to clean up your mess."

Hajin opened his mouth to respond, but she kept going.

"Stay back and watch how a real fighter handles things," she said, finally glancing at him over her shoulder, her eyes carrying none of the warmth she had shown earlier, only the flat focus of someone who had stopped holding back.

’So this is what six Shards look like when she stops suppressing,’ he thought, watching the way her stance shifted, lower and more grounded, her mana coiling around her like something alive rather than the neat, controlled aura she had shown earlier.

’I knew she was hiding her real level, but seeing it in motion is a different thing entirely.’

The worm’s head rose from the sand, the fresh wounds on its face already beginning to close as it fixed its remaining eye on her, its posture shifting into something more cautious than before. A low, rumbling sound emerged from its throat, not quite a growl and not quite a laugh.

"So the little insect was hiding her sting," the worm said, its voice carrying a new note of interest, "these ants keep getting more entertaining."

"Shut up," Helen said, her voice flat as she raised her rapier, "you talk too much for a puppet."

The worm went still.

"You are not even the real body, are you?" she continued, her blade tracing a slow arc through the air as she stepped forward, "this is just a shell you are piloting from somewhere else. An overgrown decoy with a lot of mana and a big mouth."

The silence stretched for a long moment, the worm’s eye fixed on her with an unreadable expression before a low, rumbling laugh rolled out of its throat, deep and genuine.

"You saw through that, did you?" it said, its voice carrying a new note of amusement, "impressive. Most ants never figure it out before they die."

"It does not matter," it continued, its tone shifting into something colder, "knowing the truth will not save you. There is nothing you can do to reach my real body from here."

It raised its head, the red scales along its neck beginning to glow with a faint, pulsating light. The air around it grew heavy, the sand beneath its body starting to vibrate as a dense, concentrated energy began gathering at the base of its throat.

Helen’s eyes widened, her stance faltering for the first time since she had moved, "Magic?"

Hajin stared at the gathering light, the same word echoing in his mind, ’Magic?’

The worm’s mouth opened, and the light surged forward before splitting into countless fragments, each one hardening mid-air into a solid black needle that filled the sky like a dark cloud.

They hung there for a fraction of a second, then rained down in a storm, thousands of them streaking toward the ground at a speed that could punch through armor.

Helen moved, her body flowing between the falling needles with an ease that looked almost casual, her rapier flicking out to deflect the ones that came too close while she weaved through the barrage without breaking stride.

Hajin was not so lucky.

He tried to get his legs under him, but the hole in his chest screamed with every movement and his vision was swimming too fast for him to track the falling storm.

He looked up and saw a cluster of needles angling straight toward him, their tips gleaming with the same red glow that had made the earlier spikes explode.

’I am so fucked,’ he thought, his hands still gripping the spike in his chest as he watched them descend.

A flash of gold erupted in front of him, a curved barrier of light materializing out of nowhere and catching the cluster of needles mid-flight. The needles detonated against the surface, the explosions washing over the barrier like water against stone, leaving nothing but scorched air behind.

Vella stood beside him, her hand extended and her palm still glowing with the remnants of the golden light, her expression carrying a look of mild exasperation rather than concern.

"Master," she said, her voice calm, almost conversational, "why do you risk so much for people who look down on you?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but the words came out weak and thin, "Vella..."

She clicked her tongue, the exasperation on her face deepening as she crouched down beside him. Her hand closed around the spike protruding from his chest, and with a single, smooth motion, she pulled it out.

The pain flared white-hot for a moment before receding as a warm, golden light spread from her palm into the wound, the torn flesh beginning to knit itself closed under her touch.

He stared at the wound, at the way the skin was sealing itself with a precision that no normal healing magic could achieve, at the dense, layered mana flowing from her hand into his body.

’So this is her power,’ he thought, his eyes widening slightly as he felt the depth of the energy moving through him, ’I never knew she could do this.’

The light faded and the wound was gone, not even a scar remaining where the spike had been. Vella withdrew her hand and stood up, dusting off her knees like she had just finished a minor chore.

"I still do not get it," she said, looking down at him with that same exasperated expression, "but I will help you anyway."

She offered him her hand, "so get up and kick that thing’s ass."

He looked at her hand, then at her face, at the way the corner of her mouth was twitching despite the flat delivery, and a slow smirk spread across his lips.

He took her hand and pulled himself up.