The Mutation of the Giant Monster (2)

A small patch of dark clouds had drifted into the otherwise clear sky.

Twenty to thirty meters across, the inky mass crackled with purple lightning—like a dragon trapped within, thrashing and roaring against its prison.

“Don’t worry. I’ll let you out soon.”

Violet Lightning raised her spear high—the one responsible for this unnatural phenomenon.

With a sound like tearing fabric, the storm broke apart.

The lightning surged toward her weapon, wrapping around the shaft in a coiling, furious embrace.

“Hey, Power Pole.”

Nikkou, closest to her, could feel the immense magic radiating from the spear.

“When did you break through?” she demanded, voice laced with envy and frustration.

“Shhh…”

Violet Lightning lifted a finger to her lips, then winked playfully.

“Keep it a secret, ‘kay?”

“Hmph. You’d better tell me after this,” Nikkou grumbled, crossing her arms.

After the brief exchange, Violet Lightning refocused on the battle.

She adjusted her grip, feeling the raw power coursing through her weapon.

Target: the junction where the tentacle connected to the main body.

Could she sever it in one strike? Honestly, even she wasn’t sure—this was her first time using this technique.

“This is my trump card. If this doesn’t work… I’ve got nothing left.”

With that whisper, she raised the spear overhead.

Her muscles tensed—her entire body coiling like a spring pulled to its absolute limit, every fiber vibrating with stored energy.

“Huang Huang Da Wei!”
“Yi Qie!”

At the peak of tension, her arm snapped forward like a whip.

Air resistance—and space itself—shattered under the force.

The spear shot out as a streak of violet lightning, moving so fast it struck before the sonic boom reached their ears.

BOOM!

Thanks to cavitation effects, the flesh at the base of the tentacle exploded from the inside.

As blue blood mist cleared, the severed limb crashed to the ground, lifeless.

“Left One—mission accomplished.”

Satisfied, Violet Lightning admired her handiwork.

“How are the others doing?”

She turned her gaze to her teammates.

Rather than weak, the creature seemed utterly devoid of combat instinct.

Mieni flew cautiously, firing experimental arrows—trying to provoke a reaction.

But the octopus treated her like a nuisance fly.

It lazily waved a tentacle to swat her away, then lost interest entirely.

This confirmed Mieni’s suspicion.

The beast had no will to fight. Even when attacked, it barely resisted.

It felt less like a monster—more like some deep-sea dweller, ripped from its home, dumped here to die.

But who brought it here? And why?

Without more information, her deduction stalled.

“Well… too many questions. But for now—let’s just beat you first.”

At that thought, the thousands of magic arrows forming her “wings” suddenly scattered.

They ascended in unison—then, as one, reversed direction, all arrowheads locking onto the target.

By conventional standards, Mieni considered herself average.

Her soul weapon lacked Frosttail’s versatility. She didn’t have Violet Lightning’s raw combat talent.

To avoid being a liability to Second Ring, she’d spent two years—every spare moment—crafting magic arrows, stockpiling them relentlessly.

Now, they formed a sky-darkening array: 478,000 arrows, ready to fall.

Firing them all at once would be wasteful—but she wanted to see it.

How dazzling would two years of effort look when unleashed?

Right hand raised, she made a sharp downward motion.

Arrow Rain.

478,000 bolts screamed downward, trailing white magic trails.

For over ten seconds, the barrage pounded the tentacle—shredding it from intact form into a mangled, dissolving mess.

Yet even as the target became functionally destroyed, the rain continued.

Mieni couldn’t help but smile.

“Huh… guess I’m stronger than I thought.”

If this worked so well… why not just shoot the core and end it?

Regret flickered—too late now.

Exhausted, her stamina and magic drained, she slowly descended back to the ground.

“You two… excellent work.”

Seeing Violet Lightning and Mieni’s successes, Frosttail nodded in approval.

Now, her turn.

The long, spear-like object in her hand—while resembling a military bayonet—wasn’t a blade at all.

It was a magic-laced detonator rod.

Though inexperienced with giant aberrations, Frosttail had prepared for such scenarios.

This unique weapon was her solution.

Complex to craft, she only had one in reserve.

As a one-of-a-kind tool, she needed the perfect timing and placement.

Now, she found it.

With both hands, she raised the two-meter-long rod high—then drove it deep into the base of the tentacle, leaving only a short handle exposed.

Detonating it here would only blow off a chunk of flesh. Frosttail knew that.

So she raised her left arm—slamming the lotus-engraved shield on her forearm down onto the handle.

The impact drove the rod deeper.

As it penetrated, mysterious circular holes along its surface began glowing red.

BOOM!

Pre-loaded high-density magic particles exploded—equivalent to an air-to-ground missile.

The tentacle’s connection point blew apart. The severed limb crashed aside in a grotesque heap.

Meanwhile, Frosttail had already flown dozens of meters away—dodging the blast wave entirely.

Not a single drop of blood or gore touched her pristine green Bavarian dress.