My Shard Bearer System - Elias's Legacy-Chapter 190: Shocking Crystal

The blade went in at a shallow angle, right beneath the lowest rib.

Metal parted skin with a damp hiss—like water flashing off a hot plate—then kept sliding until the guard kissed the fabric of his shirt. The mirrored edge warped red beneath the torch‑glow.

A pulse kicked inside his chest.

His shard flared blue once—too bright, too sudden—then burst in a spray of sparks that scorched the cloth around it. The light collapsed inward, taking the strength out of his knees. Pain tore upward, white and blinding, but he kept his grip steady until the steel stopped moving.

Blood foamed in his throat. He tasted iron, grit, the ash that never left the arena air. A crooked smile cut across his mouth—more reflex than comfort. His outline flickered; the edges of his sleeves began to show torchlight through them, as if the world were forgetting where his body ended.

Kikaru moved on instinct.

One beat she was still on her knees, harness digging into her collar; the next she slid through the sand and caught him by the shoulders. Her fingers curled into scorched fabric, nails scraping skin beneath. The heat of her Ikona rolled off her in ragged waves—golden, frantic—like it might hold him together if it burned bright enough.

"Don’t—" Her voice cracked. She dragged in air, half a sob, half a curse. "Why would you do that? Elias, look at me."

He tried. Vision tunneled; torches stretched into long, quivering lines. Her good eye swam in and out of focus—wide, frantic, rimmed with soot. She shook him once, hard enough that the blade tore a fraction deeper. His breath hitched. Blood lipped over the wound and pattered onto her knuckles.

She pressed her palm against the hole, light gathering at her fingertips, but the harness across her chest rattled—still locked, still feeding static into her veins. The golden glow sputtered, failed to seal anything, then faded back to sparks.

"Stay with me," she whispered—no roar left, only raw sound. Her arms trembled under his weight. "You were suppose to free me of this world...."

His skin had gone translucent at the edges, shirt sleeves fluttering like gauze in a slow wind. He managed a breath. The exhale rattled against her thumb; more blood followed.

"Dot..." he mouthed, the word drowned by copper. A faint blue flicker hovered near his shoulder—too weak to hold form.

Kikaru’s head dipped, jaw set hard enough to crack. She pressed closer, forehead nearly touching his. The arena veins pulsed a dull violet around them—steady, uncaring—while torchlight crawled across the mirrored blade still buried to the hilt.

Time stretched. His weight sagged. Her grip never loosened. But his outline kept thinning, seizures of light flickering along his arms as though the body beneath was being peeled away, piece by piece, into the glare.

And she could only watch, hands slick, lips moving without sound, while the heat that had carried her all fight long finally failed to answer her call.

Dot’s cry ripped across the inside of his skull, pure static made personal.

Elias—the core, the core’s gone!

Her glow flared neon‑blue behind his eyes, then sputtered, as if someone were stepping on a fuse. He felt her presence yank hard on what was left of him, trying to drag shattered pieces back into a shape that still belonged to living flesh. The effort only tore new gaps. Light bled out through every fracture. freewёbnoνel.com

Kikaru felt the recoil. She jerked as if the scream were her own, one hand still clamped over the wound, the other braced against his spine. The surface of his skin no longer registered warmth; it carried a faint, sand‑dry chill, like stone at dawn. She pressed harder, jaw clenched until teeth squeaked. Nothing slowed the seep of red.

A soft scuffing broke the silence.

The Announcer arrived with the casual cadence of a man touring a garden. Polished soles scraped the invisible floor; the sound rang crisp, well‑fed with echo. He stopped one pace from the pair and gave a single clap, palms snapping together like a starter’s pistol.

"Well, damn." His voice brightened as if he approved of the carnage. "Didn’t think he had it in him."

He knelt. The tailored coat folded without a wrinkle. Diamond lenses—a ruby left, sapphire right—tilted to catch the faint, ghostly smoke curling out of Elias’s chest. Where the shard had once sat, only bruised tissue and dull crystal shards remained, half‑pulverised by the blade’s passage.

The Announcer inhaled, nostrils flaring with mock curiosity. "That smell—ah, yes. Ionised blood. Always harsher when the soul crystal burns out." He nudged the severed hilt still protruding from the wound, studying the way the metal flaked away into pale motes. "But I do believe we’re missing something. Where did the pretty little shard roll off to?"

Kikaru’s hand snapped out, fingers locking around his wrist before he could probe deeper. Her voice came ragged through grit‑lined teeth. "Back up," she hissed.

The Announcer gave a polite, almost embarrassed chuckle. "Touchy." He rotated his arm; her grip felt like glass to him. With a gentle twist he slipped free, rose, and brushed imaginary dust from his cuff.Elias’s ears rang like a kettle left on too long. The Announcer’s voice slid through the noise in ragged fragments, most of it lost to static, but one question clawed its way clear:

"...did what, exactly?"

He tried to answer. The words came out as a wet cough. "Did— what?" Each syllable cost a heartbeat; blood sheeted faster, painting his teeth copper, blurring the edges of everything in front of him.

The Announcer leaned closer, one chrome‑capped boot squeaking against the invisible floor. He peered into the wound as if hunting for loose change. "Your shard’s gone. Vapor. That trick isn’t in the handbook."

Elias’s vision narrowed to a tunnel—lens flare, torch‑glare, Announcer’s red‑blue lenses looming. Then something punched outward beneath his sternum. Not pain this time—pressure. A pulse, deep as a drumbeat.

The realm quivered.

A hairline shudder ran through the floating platforms, rattling every seat. Shard Users gripped railings, eyes wide. The vibration rolled back to center—Elias’s chest—where light pooled blue‑white, brighter than torch‑fire.

The pool exploded.

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