Investing In My Crippled Wife Every Return Makes Me Stronger Chapter 77

[ … words ]

The impact of the first collision was like a physical wall hitting them.

Soren didn’t hold back and used his Ironclad Body to simply ram through the first three Drakelings, his spear a blur of silver and frost. He was a whirlwind of movement, pinning the faster ones to the ground with ice while sweeping his shaft to keep the horde from collapsing the circle.

Ryan was a shadow at his back. Every time a Drakeling lunged for Soren’s blind spot, Ryan’s silver-coated blade was there to intercept, his movements fueled by the desperate “pulse” he felt in the air.

But the sheer numbers were suffocating.

“Left!” Ryan shouted, his voice hoarse.

Soren didn’t even look. He ducked, letting a jagged claw whistle over his head as he drove his spear into the throat of a monster charging Ryan. In exchange, Ryan stepped over Soren’s crouching form, slicing the head off a Drakeling that had nearly sunk its teeth into Soren’s shoulder.

As the melee stretched on, the coordination began to fray under the weight of exhaustion. Soren was the first to take a serious hit. Even his new Obsidian-Threaded Leather Armor, which had seemed so durable, couldn’t hold out against the relentless assault of these third-circle monsters. A jagged claw tore through the reinforced chest piece as if it were parchment, leaving a deep, bloody furrow across his ribs.

“Argh!” Soren let out a guttural growl, crushing a creature’s skull with his mana-coated fist, but blood began to soak his gear. Then came a gash across his back, then a shallow tear on his side. He was becoming a map of red lines, his Accelerated Regeneration struggling to keep up with the constant influx of new wounds.

Ryan wasn’t spared either. His left arm hung limp after a heavy tail-swipe caught him off guard, and his breathing was a ragged, wet sound. His mana was running dangerously low; the silver light on his blade flickered like a dying candle.

Even though they continued to fight, through the pain, through the haze of blood-scented air, until their movements became purely instinctual.

There was no more planning, only the rhythm of thrust, slash, parry, and kill.

Finally, the frantic sounds of battle came to an end.

“…”

The silence that followed was deafening.

Thud! Thud!

Soren and Ryan collapsed simultaneously, falling back-to-back amidst a literal mountain of obsidian corpses.

The clearing was a graveyard of broken scales and cooling blood.

Soren was in a horrific state. Blood leaked from a gash on his forehead, blurring his vision. His torso was a mess of shredded fabric and deep teeth marks, and his hands were raw from the friction of his spear. He looked more like a corpse than a living man. Ryan sat beside him, clutching his side, his face deathly pale and covered in grime.

“P-po… ti…on,” Soren rasped, his voice barely a whisper.

With trembling fingers, they both reached into their storage. Ryan pulled out four vials of health and mana recovery potions. He popped the corks with his teeth, handing one set to Soren.

The liquid burnt as it went down, a forced surge of artificial vitality that made their raw nerves scream. The deep gashes on Soren’s legs began to knit together with a sickening itch, and the fog in Ryan’s mind cleared just enough for him to focus.

However, neither of them moved to stand, or more likely, were unable to.

So, they just sat there, gasping for air, their gazes slowly drifting upward toward the bone-white monolith.

The creature was no longer convulsing. The golden light had stopped flickering and had settled into a steady, terrifying radiance that made the very air hum with power.

The breakthrough was almost over.

“Is… this… where it ends?”

Soren barely muttered the words, the bitter taste of blood thick in his throat. Every breath felt like dragging broken glass through his lungs.

“N-no… it’s… not over yet,” Ryan replied, punctuating the sentence with a violent cough that splattered crimson onto the gray dust. He gripped his sword as if the metal itself was the only thing keeping him from drifting into unconsciousness.

Soren started to nod, but a sharp, white-hot spike of pain shot through his neck, forcing him to stay still. He forced his heavy eyelids open, staring at the golden radiance bleeding from the top of the monolith.

“How much… time we… left?” Ryan asked again, his voice thin and brittle.

Soren didn’t answer immediately. He focused his mind, pushing past the throbbing haze in his skull to trigger Investor’s Insight.

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[The Monolith of the Primal Axis]

Classification: High-Grade Mana Anchor / Environmental Catalyst

Rank: Unique

Status: Peak Overload (Stabilizing)

[Description]: An ancient structural remnant designed to act as a planetary mana siphon. It draws raw, unfiltered energy from the surrounding ley lines and compresses it into a refined state.

[True Worth]: As a Stationary Domain Artifact, its value lies in its ability to anchor a permanent rift or create a high-mana zone. The quantity of refined mana currently stored within its core is equivalent to thousands of high-grade mana stones.

[Potential]: If successfully de-anchored, it can be repurposed to create a “High-Mana Zone,” tripling the cultivation speed of anyone within its radius. ════════════════════════════════════

Soren squinted as the data burned into his mind. He noticed a rhythmic flicker in the [Status: Peak Overload] indicator. The mana density fluctuations within the pillar’s core were reaching a plateau, signaling the transition from absorption to crystallization.

“About… three… minutes,” Soren wheezed.

Ryan tightened his white-knuckled grip on his sword, using it to slowly lever himself off the ground. “And… then?”

“The stone,” Soren managed, effects of the medicine starting to kick in slowly. “It’s gonna surge… and lock that… thing down for a… minute…”

“We have… one shot.”

“I see…” Ryan muttered, his eyes never leaving the radiant silhouette atop the pillar. “The Adrenaline Burst… you use it… yet?”

Soren shook his head slowly, the movement sending a dull throb through his skull. “No. Saving it… for the end.”

“Good.” Ryan coughed again, wiping a smear of red from his chin. “Then… I’ll use my ability… on you. If we stack the effects… you might be able to finish it.”

“You… think so?”

“…We don’t have a choice.”

“…Right.”