She struggled, fury in her eyes. “Snap out of it, Lerius! That’s not your mother!”

  Valerius’s voice deepened, layered with warning. “I don’t want to hurt you, Eliana. But if you try to lay another finger on her… you won’t like what I’ll do.”

  “She’s not real!” Eliana yelled, twisting in his grip. “It’s a trick! A conjuration! Look at her—look closer!”

  Lyriana stepped forward, calm and sweet. “She’s lying, Valerius. She doesn’t want to see our family whole again. She wants to take you away from me.”

  Eliana swung her free hand in a blur, aiming for Lyriana’s face.

  Valerius reacted instantly—he hurled Eliana away like a ragdoll.

  She hit the ground hard, carving trenches through the earth, but landed on her feet with precision. Dirt and dust rose around her.

  Her eyes glowed.

  “Fine,” she muttered. “You asked for this.”

  She lifted into the air, casting Float, then rocketed forward with blistering speed—only for Valerius to appear mid-flight, catch her ankle, and hurl her sideways again.

  She snarled in frustration and summoned two swords of living vines, their edges lined with thorns like saws. She shot toward Lyriana again—slashing, spinning, screaming.

  “GET OUT OF THE WAY, LERIUS!”

  Valerius blocked every strike. His forearms deflected the blades like steel walls. Her attacks created concussive shockwaves that rocked the forest—but he stood firm.

  “Why are you protecting her?!” she screamed, vines lashing out in waves.

  Valerius didn’t answer.

  She lunged again—and this time, he struck.

  A single punch to the gut.

  BOOM.

  Eliana flew back, winded, screaming in rage. She halted herself mid-air, gasping, hands wrapped around her stomach.

  Valerius stared up at her, eyes clear but cold.

  “Stop this,” he said. “She’s my mother.”

  Eliana’s voice cracked with anger. “Aaaaah—you’re really starting to annoy me!”

  She raised her hands to the heavens.

  From the shattered earth below, a colossal green humanoid tree rose—thirty meters tall, its face warped in anger, a broadsword of woven vines clutched in its hands.

  It swung downward.

  Valerius lifted his right forearm to meet it.

  KRAAAAKOOM.

  A shockwave exploded across the land. The blade struck his arm—and stopped dead. It couldn’t even scratch him.

  Valerius clenched his fist. The air trembled.

  Then—he punched.

  His blow pierced the tree-golem’s chest like a cannon. A hole exploded through the giant’s torso, splinters flying in every direction.

  Before Eliana could react—he vanished.

  Then reappeared behind her.

  He grabbed her arms, twisted them behind her back, and slammed her face-first into the ground with brutal force.

  She coughed, pinned and helpless. “STOP! I’m trying to help you!”

  From behind, Lyriana’s voice cooed. “Get rid of her, Lerius. She wants to break us apart. She doesn’t want us to be a family again.”

  That’s when something shifted in his eyes.

  Valerius froze.

  His grip loosened.

  He looked up at the woman—really looked.

  “…What did you just call me?”

  Lyriana tilted her head, smiling. “Lerius, come ba—”

  But he was already gone.

  BOOM.

  In an instant, he was in front of her.

  His fist plunged into her gut—deep.

  Her eyes widened in shock. “N-No—”

  Valerius’s expression was hard. Cold.

  “You’re not my mother,” he said flatly. “She… would never call me that.”

  Lyriana began to twitch.

  Her form trembled.

  Then melted.

  Her skin bubbled—blue seeping through porcelain flesh. Her hair receded. Her limbs stretched. Her teeth grew jagged and shark-like. Her eyes twisted sideways, reptilian.

  She screeched.

  A twisted creature, half-woman, half-nightmare, clawed at his arm.

  Valerius said nothing.

  He raised his other hand—and drove his other fist through her.

  Then, without making a sound, ripped the creature in two.

  Blood-like ichor splattered across the ruined forest. The illusion cracked and died.

  Silence followed.

  Valerius stood, coated in shadow and light.

  Behind him, Eliana slowly sat up—eyes wide with shock, pain, and awe.

  He turned to her—not as an enemy—but as someone who finally saw.

  “Sorry…You were right,” he whispered.

  And in his eyes… the fire had returned.

  ---

  The mist still lingered—thick, disorienting, alive.

  Kaelan and Elsa staggered forward, eyes wide, breathing shallow. Their movements grew hesitant. In the fog, they saw shadows—familiar shadows. Friends. Family. Ghosts.

  “Is that…?” Elsa whispered, eyes trembling.

  Kaelan growled. “No. Don’t believe it.”

  From the haze, Eliana stepped back toward Valerius. Her breathing was controlled now, but her eyes still darted, alert.

  Then Maloi landed beside them, her boots cracking the soft soil.

  “This fog,” she said flatly, “isn’t normal. It creates illusions—camouflaged creatures that take on the forms of people in your memories.”

  Valerius clenched his jaw. “You’re saying that… thing was one of them?”

  Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

  “Yes,” Maloi replied. “They’re called Camolings. Parasites of perception.”

  Valerius’s face darkened with fury.

  “How are you two not affected?” he demanded.

  Eliana answered grimly, “The Unbound used hypnotists on the Spellbound three years ago. The day they kidnapped us. They corrupted everything minds. Thats why the Spellbound never came.”

  Her voice was low now.

  “Since then… we’ve trained to resist illusion. Relentlessly.”

  Valerius glanced at her. There was a flicker of something in his eyes—acknowledgment. Then silence.

  But his expression twisted.

  Pure rage.

  “To wear her face…” he whispered. “To wear my mother’s face… and use it against me…”

  His voice dropped an octave, rumbling with a quiet, deadly promise:

  “I will not forgive this.”

  BOOM.

  He vanished.

  A sonic crack tore through the air as he launched himself forward at supersonic speed.

  He could still feel it—that twisted presence. The fake. The structure of its bones. The taste of its mana. The texture of its Vitalis. He had memorized it.

  And now, he hunted.

  In the fog, chaos erupted.

  Screams.

  Valerius tore through the mist like a god of vengeance. Each time he felt the echo of that same creature’s essence, he struck.

  Heads severed. Bodies exploded. Blood sprayed.

  Hundreds of Camolings died in an instant—ripped apart by a fury that felt almost divine.

  Nearby, Kaelan and Elsa stumbled—then froze.

  In front of them were familiar faces.

  Elsa gasped. “That’s… my brother?”

  Kaelan blinked. “No. That’s… impossible.”

  The illusions smiled.

  But then—

  SLASH.

  Valerius appeared between them in a blur, hand outstretched. Both figures collapsed—sliced in two at the waist.

  He didn’t even glance back.

  He returned to Eliana and Maloi, blood covering his arms.

  Then—he extended his hands out to the sides.

  FWOOOSH.

  Every droplet of blood flung off his body in spiraling streaks of crimson.

  He leapt into the sky.

  Spun mid-air.

  And slapped the air with such force that the atmosphere detonated.

  BOOOOOOM.

  A massive shockwave burst outward in every direction. The fog—obliterated. Blown clean off the battlefield like dust before a divine wind.

  The sky returned.

  Sunlight pierced through.

  The world blinked in shock.

  Eliana stared up, jaw dropped. “My god… how strong do you have to be… to violently blow away the air like that?”

  He landed hard, shaking the earth.

  “Kaelan! Elsa!” he shouted. “Let’s move!”

  And just like that—BOOM—they were gone, sprinting toward the center.

  Maloi followed, watching the wind swirl in Valerius’s wake.

  He’s just like that man… she thought. No mana. But he's so strong.

  ---

  Elsewhere…

  Eryndor’s team stepped cautiously into the same mist.

  It wrapped around them like a curse—thick, stifling, unnatural.

  Ziraiah squinted ahead. “STOP!” she called out. “We’ll get lost if we keep going without seeing where—”

  “I agree,” Juvian said, floating beside her. “What now?”

  “I’ll—wait.”

  She froze.

  Her eyes widened.

  “…Val?” she breathed. “Val?!”

  A figure stood in the fog—tall, lean, coat fluttering.

  He waved at her.

  Without thinking, Ziraiah ran forward. “Val—!”

  But then she stopped cold.

  Her feet left the ground.

  “…What the—HEY! What are you doing?!”

  Eryndor stepped beside her, his hands in his pocket.

  Ziraiah floated helplessly in the air.

  “Oh dear sister,” Eryndor said with solemn calm. “You are evidently incapable of discerning truth from falsehood, are you not?”

  She twisted. “What are you talking about?! Val’s right there!”

  Eryndor walked past her, toward the illusion.

  With each step, the thing’s bones cracked.

  It winced. Its smile faltered. The air shimmered.

  Eryndor’s voice turned cold. “If your intent was truly to deceive us… you ought to have crafted a more convincing ruse. Not all of us are as ingenuous as my sister.”

  He stopped before the figure—now twitching violently.

  It fell to the ground, screeching as its disguise dissolved—blue skin, needle-teeth, hunched form, scales. It shrieked, rolling on the ground in pain as its bones snapped into place.

  A Camoling.

  Eryndor stood over it, eyes pitiless.

  “The same applies to the rest of you.”

  All around them—screams.

  Hundreds of creatures hidden in the mist now howled in agony, their disguises shattering. Bones broke. Spines twisted. Their illusions failed.

  Juvian narrowed his eyes. “What is that sound?”

  Eryndor replied with composed clarity, “Camolings—repugnant parasites. They infiltrate the mind, siphoning memories to fabricate convincing illusions using this...mist. The feeble-willed are particularly susceptible.”

  Ziraiah floated beside him, stunned.

  “They almost fooled me…” she whispered.

  Eryndor said nothing. He simply snapped his fingers.

  Ziraiah fell gently to the ground.

  Then—together—they turned toward the battlefield once more.

  And began to march.

  ---

  The landscape changed.

  Valerius and his team burst into the next region—an ice forest, still part of the Arrival Zone, but colder, crueler. Snow blanketed every branch. The ground was solid glass—frozen ice stretching for miles, slick and glistening under a silver sky.

  The moment their feet touched the terrain—

  SLIP—!

  “WAAAH—!”

  They all went flying—arms flailing, legs skidding.

  Valerius landed hard but dug his fingers into the ice mid-slide, carving a trench until he came to a halt. Kaelan’s sword stabbed into the ground with a shriek of steel-on-ice, anchoring him in place.

  Elsa, lips tight, quickly chanted under her breath. Her boots froze to the surface. She stopped instantly, standing calmly like a statue.

  Eliana hovered just above the ground, floating with ease. Maloi touched down beside her, also unfazed.

  Eliana blinked in surprise and turned to Elsa.

  “What spell is that? Teach it to me.”

  Elsa smiled. “It’s a simple friction-bind. I call it Glacia Grip. It binds the soles of your boots to the top layer of ice by forming a flexible rune seal—watch.”

  She gestured, drawing a quick rune with her finger. A faint glow appeared under her foot.

  “It reads your balance and applies counter-resistance. If your posture shifts, it adjusts automatically.”

  Eliana’s eyes sparkled. “Oh I’m definitely learning that.”

  Kaelan, still wobbling, called out, “You two are mages. I don’t see how Lerius and I are supposed to cross this death rink.”

  Valerius stepped onto the ice again and—shockingly—walked with perfect balance.

  Kaelan gawked. “Wait… how the hell are you doing that?!”

  Valerius grinned. “I’ve got a few tricks of my own.”

  Then—Maloi raised a single finger.

  Kaelan blinked. “Huh?”

  He floated.

  “WHOA—!”

  Maloi smirked. “Let’s go. We’re wasting time.”

  So Kaelan, Eliana, and Maloi flew above the forest, gliding with speed. Meanwhile, Elsa sprinted across the ice using her rune spell, and Valerius ran on bare ice as if it were solid stone.

  Elsa glanced over, amused. “You’ll have to teach me that flying spell.”

  Eliana responded from above, “No problem. I’ll teach you how to float if you teach me that rune!”

  ---

  Meanwhile—

  Eryndor’s team slowed as the white forest appeared in the distance.

  “Careful,” Eryndor said calmly, raising a hand. “There’s ice ahead.”

  Isabela squinted. “You can see that far?”

  He nodded. “Of course.”

  Juvian, floating beside them, muttered, “You Elvheins are something else.”

  As they reached the icy zone, Eryndor quickly cast Float on himself and Isabela. Juvian and Ziraiah mirrored the move, gently rising into the air.

  Only Valtos remained on the ground.

  He had no mana.

  But he walked forward—unbothered.

  His steps shook the ice, leaving cracks and craters with each impact.

  BOOM. BOOM. BOOM.

  He didn’t slide. He didn’t falter.

  He was simply too heavy, too grounded.

  ---

  The Clock Was Ticking — 20 Minutes Remained.

  At the far edge of the ice zone, two paths stretched forward—each blocked.

  In Valerius’s path, a 10-foot-tall dragoon woman waited with a smirk. Her hair was short and wild, bright orange. Her armor was black, tight-fitting, spiked at the shoulders. Yellow energy crackled at her side.

  In Eryndor’s path, an 11-foot dragoon man stood firm. Long orange hair flowed down his back. His armor gleamed with Unbound symbols. His eyes burned cold.

  Elsewhere were two more figures—another dragoon and an Aurellian, all veterans from Mazorik.

  Bravo users.

  Their task: stop the challengers.

  ---

  The dragoon woman unsheathed her blade, twirling it once. Yellow bravo energy surged along its edge. Then—

  SLASH!

  She sliced the air vertically.

  A wave of Bravo energy exploded forward—a long, violent arc of yellow light that carved through the ice like hot butter.

  WHOOSH—BOOM!

  It split the ground. Multiple challengers were torn in half.

  Kaelan screamed, “GET BACK—!”

  But Valerius stepped forward. Calm. Focused.

  He launched himself directly into the attack.

  “Lerius, NO—!”

  The Bravo wave smashed into him head-on.

  The ice cracked for 50 meters in every direction. His teammates were blown away by the shockwave, flung across the frozen forest.

  But Valerius held his ground.

  Sliding backward across the ice, digging his heels in, cracking the earth beneath him—until he finally caught the Bravo slash in both hands.

  And hurled it upward—into the sky, where it detonated with a thunderous CRACK.

  Everyone went silent.

  Valerius stared forward.

  Fourteen kilometers away, he saw her—clear as day. The woman who launched the attack.

  He looked at his hands, no blood, but it tingled.

  He smiled.

  Wide. Canines bared.

  ---

  To Be Continued...