Sadly, my Blade Storm obliterated the ritual board for feeding the cores, and we had to make a new one. Mahya stored the core before moving toward the Gate, so it was fine. Although, I was pretty sure nothing would have happened to it, regardless. I wanted to ask her why she didn’t store the board as well, but refrained. Mahya tended to get annoyed if someone pointed out her less-than-brilliant actions. Knowing who you were dealing with and acting accordingly was always better—no reason to wake the beast. I snickered at the thought, and she shot me a questioning look, but I just shook my head. I wasn’t suicidal.

“I think we should engrave the circle on an aluminum sheet, like I did with the ATV,” I said.

“Why?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I shrugged. “More durable.”

Mahya sighed, dismissing my suggestion with a tired shake of her head. “I don’t think it would have survived the blades even if it was on steel,” she muttered. Her eyes narrowed as she looked at me. “By the way, how much mana did you feed into the scroll? That was insane!”

I rubbed the back of my neck, feeling sheepish. “I didn’t check,” I admitted with a nervous chuckle.

Her squint deepened, unimpressed. She sighed again, this time more dramatically, and shook her head in resignation. “You’re a menace, you know that?”

Al had wandered off to the pile of junk, his attention clearly elsewhere. My curiosity got the best of me, so I walked closer. “What are you doing?” I asked.

“Inspecting the materials,” Al replied, his fingers tracing the surfaces of various metal pieces, his focus unwavering.

I crouched down beside him, intrigued. “Anything interesting?”

“Yes,” he said, picking up a small, twisted rod and holding it to the light. “I recognize some materials from Leylos, Muslar, and Earth, but some are new.” He turned the rod over, scrutinizing it.

I leaned in, trying to get a better look. “New, how? Like... different alloys?”

Al tilted his head from side to side, deep in thought. “I’m unsure if it’s an alloy or an unfamiliar metal. I’ve never encountered anything with such strange properties. The structure seems... unstable. It might be magical, or at least influenced by mana somehow.” The rod vanished as he stored it, glancing at me. “It could be worth investigating further.”

Mahya tapped her chin, considering his words. “It’s been lying here for who knows how long, absorbing mana, so it’s probably influenced by it. The stuff here looks technological in nature, so it’s probably from before the integration.” She shot me a pointed look, her eyebrow raised. “Come on, John, we need to redo the circle.”

“Good point,” I said, standing and dusting off my hands. “And this time, we’ll keep it out of my Blade Storm’s path.” I flashed her a grin, but she didn’t look amused.

Al chuckled softly, still inspecting the materials before him. “That would be wise,” he said, amusement lacing his tone.

Mahya’s eyes narrowed dangerously, her glare intense enough to make me regret my joke. Oops! Clearly, pointing out her slip-up wasn’t the best idea.

“Or maybe we should keep you away from scrolls for a while,” she muttered, her voice dripping with annoyance.

I grinned wider, raising my hands in mock surrender. “No promises,” I said, still chuckling.

Mahya rolled her eyes and turned away, muttering something under her breath as she set up the new ritual board. Al gave me a knowing look, his eyes twinkling with shared amusement.

“You do tend to provoke her emotional reactions,” he said quietly, glancing after Mahya.

I shrugged, still smiling. “Keeps things interesting, right?”

Al shook his head, still smiling as well. “Just don’t push too hard, John.”

“Yeah, yeah,” I waved him off, following Mahya. “I know when to back off. Most of the time.”

Mahya pulled out an aluminum sheet, but a tremor rippled through the ground beneath us before she could start. We exchanged startled glances. The vibrations grew more intense. Al’s eyes narrowed as he stepped toward me, shifting into an alert stance.

“Do you hear that?” Mahya whispered, her voice tense as her eyes darted toward the distant scrap piles.

I strained my ears. At first, it was faint—a deep rumbling, like stones grinding together—but it grew louder by the second. A heavy, deliberate thud followed the tremor, shaking the ground again. It sounded like footsteps.

Another step.

And then another.

The source of the tremors was approaching.

“That’s not good,” Al muttered, summoning his sword and shield, readying for a fight.

Mahya’s lips pressed into a thin line, calculating the situation. “It sounds... big,” she said, her eyes flicking toward me, silently asking for confirmation.

I swallowed hard, my gaze snapping in the direction of the sound. Emerging from behind a massive heap of twisted metal and discarded machinery, a creature lumbered into view. My breath caught in my throat at the sight of it.

It was enormous, easily towering three or four times our height. It looked like a nightmare, all scrap and rot, looming over the junkyard. Its form was a grotesque blend of rusted metal, discarded electronics, and patches of dark-green fur that clung to its hulking frame. Junk and broken appliances seemed fused with its flesh, embedded deep into thick, reptilian-like skin. A low, guttural growl rumbled from its throat, vibrating the air around us.

A monstrous maw of jagged, shark-like teeth gaped beneath a row of rusted spikes protruding from its head, adding to its horrifying appearance. Despite its mechanical look, there was something disturbingly organic about it—the way its muscles rippled beneath layers of junk as it moved, its breaths coming in slow, rumbling growls from deep within its chest.

Then, the stench hit me. Unbearable. A toxic mix of rotting flesh, burnt metal, and waste polluted the air with every labored breath the creature took. The smell clung to everything like an invisible cloud of decay, making my eyes water. I grimaced and stepped back, but it only intensified the closer the thing came—like death itself rolling toward us.

The worst part was its head—warped, asymmetrical, with glowing red and yellow eyes resembling two giant projectors. They cast an eerie light over the junkyard. Its mouth, a hideous mix of jagged metal teeth and shattered bone, ground together as it moved.

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“That... is definitely not good,” I muttered, eyes wide as I took another step back.

Mahya’s expression hardened, her voice steady and low. “Looks like we found the boss of this junkyard.”

Al said nothing, his entire focus on the creature. His grip tightened around his sword hilt as the monster lumbered closer, each step shaking the earth.

I steadied myself with a deep breath. “Alright, listen up,” I said, my voice firm. “You two need to take Rue, turn invisible, and head straight for the Gate.”

Mahya shot me a look, her eyebrows furrowing. “You’re not coming with us?”

I shook my head, already pulling out the scrolls from my Storage. “I want to try these. This seems like the perfect chance to see what they can do. If things go south, I’ll be right behind you.”

Al’s grip on his sword tightened even further. “This thing is enormous. You think those scrolls are going to work?”

I glanced at the lumbering mass of metal and rot as it crept closer, the ground shuddering beneath its feet. “We’re about to find out.”

Mahya crossed her arms, clearly not thrilled. “This sounds like a terrible idea.”

“It probably is,” I admitted, flashing a grin despite the tension. “But we don’t have many options here. Go. I’ll be fine. Besides, I’ll be invisible and can fly higher than it can reach. Don’t worry.”

She stared at me for a second longer before letting out a sigh. “Fine. But if you die, I’ll kill you myself.”

“Deal,” I said, barely holding back a chuckle. Al raised an eyebrow but said nothing, his grip on his sword tightening as they both turned invisible.

“You too, buddy,” I said. “I still feel you near. Go to the Gate, don’t worry.”

“Rue fight with John! Rue strong and big!” Rue protested.

“I know you are. But I’m not going to fight it—I’m going to experiment with scrolls. Go, fast. It’s getting close.”

Rue huffed but reluctantly headed toward the Gate.

Once I was sure they were gone, I activated my invisibility spell, feeling the magic ripple through me as I faded from sight. I flew up, hovering above the battlefield. My hands moved swiftly, pulling out the scrolls one by one—time to see what these babies could do.

I started with Flame Wave, hoping fire would do some real damage. The scroll burned in my hand, the air around me heating as I aimed at the creature below—a massive wave of fire erupted from the scroll, devouring the creature in a storm of flames. This had to work—fire always destroyed things, right?

For a moment, I thought I had it. The fire roared around its body, consuming the junk and metal. But when the flames cleared, the creature stood there, barely singed. I groaned in frustration. So much for that.

Next, I tried Ice Wall. A towering wall of ice erupted from the ground, separating me from the beast. It bought me a few seconds, but the monster barreled through it like it was nothing. Shards of ice flew everywhere, and I had to dodge a few as they whizzed past. Useless.

I quickly switched to Blade Storm. As the scroll disintegrated in my hands, hundreds of spinning blades erupted through the air within seconds, whistling as they sliced into the junkyard and the creature. The screech of tearing metal echoed across the battlefield. The beast roared, stumbling back as the blades ripped through its flesh and the scraps of metal embedded in its skin. I smirked. Finally, something that worked. Maybe I wasn’t as reckless as Mahya thought. Or maybe I’d just gotten lucky... this time. I did have a Luck trait, after all.

However, the creature continued. It lurched forward, claws gouging the ground, fury radiating off it in waves.

I wasn’t done yet, but then I started to have second thoughts. I fumbled for the Stone Prison scroll and cast it quickly. Thick stone walls rose from the ground, encasing the monster in a rocky cage. For a brief second, I thought it might hold. Then, with a single swing of its arm, the creature shattered the stone like it was made of fragile glass.

“Great. Just great,” I muttered, frustration rising.

Thunder Strike was next. I aimed it directly at the monster’s head. Lightning cracked through the sky, slamming into the beast. Sparks flew, and the creature paused, twitching slightly from the shock. But it shook off the effect within moments, moving toward me again. Ugh. My personal lightning was definitely better than this.

I was running out of options. I pulled out Solar Flare, squinting as the intense light burst forth. A searing beam of energy shot toward the creature, and for a moment, the junkyard lit up like the surface of the sun. But as the light faded, the monster seemed... irritated. Not damaged. Just annoyed.

I cursed under my breath, pulling out the final scroll—Quicksand Sink. The ground liquefied beneath the creature; the junkyard turning into a churning pit of sand. The monster groaned as it struggled to stay upright. Slowly but surely, it sank. Its massive bulk weighed it down, and even its strength wasn’t enough to pull it free. The quicksand clung to its body, dragging it deeper.

I grinned. “Finally.”

The creature’s movements slowed, its roars becoming more desperate as it sank further into the pit. It was chest-deep now, stuck. I took the opportunity and unleashed my lightning, hitting the beast repeatedly. It roared in pain and tried to claw its way out. Cracks were forming in the ground.

Not good.

I switched to red lightning, hoping it would do more damage. The creature’s fur caught fire, and its pained roars echoed through the junkyard. I asked the fire to help, but all I got was a feeling of disdain. Like the flames were insulted I even bothered them.

Right. Different world, unfamiliar elements.

Still, I kept blasting it with red lightning, then commanded the wind to fuel the flames. I didn’t ask—I ordered. The wind bristled at my command, but the flames grew higher.

I’d make it up to her later.

I continued with my attacks and finally identified the creature.

Scraglin Behemoth

Level 38

I couldn’t stop myself. “Seriously?! This monstrosity started from a green critter?”

I felt Mahya, Rue, and Al cross the Gate again to my side. A few seconds later, I heard gunshots. They were still invisible, but it sounded like they both were shooting the thing. We kept this up for a few more seconds until I started feeling dizzy. Mana: 380/11,700.

I paused to check my profile as my mana ticked up by 45 points every minute.

Yes!

The regeneration here was even better than in Lumis—which, of course, made sense.

The monster finally broke free from the ground and crawled toward Mahya and Al. Its sheer size shook the ground with each movement. My mana was critically low—470 left. I needed to act fast. I grabbed another Quicksand Sink scroll, channeled 400 mana, and almost blacked out from the strain. Still, it was enough to slow it down. It didn’t sink as deep this time, but its limbs got stuck in the solidified ground.

They kept shooting, and I nudged the wind again, urging her to keep fanning the flames. She was still annoyed, and I knew she held a grudge for my earlier forcefulness. I sent her a feeling of apology, then a sense of danger and urgency. After repeating this three times, she finally relented, and the flames grew stronger.

At last, the Behemoth let out a final roar, then collapsed. I flew down to check and almost passed out from the stench. If it had stunk before, now it was unbearable. The burning had intensified the odor to a near-toxic level.

Spirits! It was awful. And something even stranger was happening—it wasn’t dissipating. I glanced around, noticing the remains of the mini goblins still scattered across the place.

Those are not monsters?!

The fire on the creature finally went out, but it was still too stinky to approach. I landed near Mahya and Al, wrinkling my nose at the lingering odor. Handing them each a Flame Wave scroll, I said, “Cast it on this thing. Otherwise, we’ll have to abandon this junkyard because of the stench.”

Al grimaced, eyeing the smoke still rising from the creature. “I noticed it wasn’t dissipating.”

“Yeah, I did, too,” I said, glancing back at the massive heap of junk and rot. “I was sure it was a monster. Hopefully, we won’t meet many more like it here. By the way, did you identify it?”

Al shook his head, his brow furrowed, but Mahya spoke up, her voice tinged with disbelief. “Yes. I can’t believe this thing grew from the little green ones.”

“Yeah, I can’t believe it either,” I said, rubbing the back of my neck as I eyed the hulking mess before us.

It took us five scrolls to burn it completely, and we only needed so few because I convinced the fire to keep burning and consuming it. At first, I tried to ask her for help, but I changed my approach when that failed. I presented it as a challenge, with a sequence of sensations that roughly translated to: “There’s no way you can burn this thing—that’s why we’re helping with the scrolls.”

That didn’t sit well with her, and she took offense for a fleeting moment. Then, the fire flared so brightly it was nearly blue, and the creature burned in earnest.

Mahya and Al smiled at me and gave me a thumbs-up, and I concluded that fire needed to be treated like a rebellious teenager. I noticed that in Lumis, too, but I wasn’t sure it was a constant thing. It looked like it was.

Finally, the abomination was nothing but a pile of ash.

Mahya inspected the remains and said, “No beast core.”

“Maybe it burned?” I asked.

She shook her head. “Mana crystals don’t burn. I was sure it’s a monster or mana beast, but it was just... huge.”

If this world threw monsters like that at us this early, I wasn’t sure how much worse things would get—and I wasn’t exactly eager to find out.