Amelia had read the records. Parasites were scavengers—bottom feeders who survived by attaching themselves to stronger hosts, eating their emotions and manipulating from the shadows. They weren’t warriors. They weren’t conquerors.
And yet the thing before her—the abomination that had once been Freedman—was radiating a power that made even the air tremble.
That wasn’t the strength of a parasite.
That was something else. Something wrong.
The snow swirled violently as the monster let out a guttural roar, a sound that seemed to scrape at her mind rather than her ears. The world dimmed for a heartbeat, the light of her magic flickering under the sheer pressure of it.
She swallowed hard, forcing her hands to stop shaking.
’This... this isn’t something I can face head-on.’
Her eyes darted to Julies again—his figure barely visible through the flurry of snow and shadow.
He wasn’t running.
He wasn’t hesitating.
If anything, the faint grin on his face suggested he was enjoying this.
Amelia’s chest tightened. "He’s insane," she muttered under her breath. "He’s actually enjoying this."
Still, she couldn’t look away.
Because there was something terrifyingly magnetic about it—the way Julies moved through chaos, his blade flashing in bursts of blue light, his body weaving through the monster’s attacks with impossible precision.
Every strike he dodged left a crater in the earth, every movement calculated, deliberate.
He wasn’t fighting to survive.
He was fighting to end it.
And Amelia realized, with a chill running down her spine, that she was witnessing the kind of madness that built legends—and buried them.
"Parasites aren’t supposed to be like this..." she whispered again, almost to herself. "Neither of them are."
Her voice trembled—not with fear this time, but awe.
In every record she could find, parasites were dismissed as insignificant creatures—low-tier threats, hardly worth studying.
But what was this?
—Crack!
A sharp, grinding noise split through the air, the kind that made the eardrums ache.
—Kugugung!
A deep, rolling tremor followed, shaking the ground beneath her boots. The forest quivered like it was alive, trees splintering and toppling as if a giant hand had swept through them. The sheer force of destruction said it all—size alone could be a weapon.
’Could I have even dodged that?’
The thought sent a chill down her spine.
She had always believed herself to be a skilled mage—more than skilled, even. She’d handled monsters far beyond her rank, broken complex spells under pressure, and survived encounters others wouldn’t dare to face. But this...
This was something else entirely.
She couldn’t even see the illusion magic this creature was using, let alone counter it. It was like staring into fog that thought for itself—alive, aware, taunting.
No, perhaps that wasn’t even the right way to think about it.
Even if she conceded a hundred times over, even if she admitted this monster was a special case—how was it possible to move like that?
"Wow... how are you even dodging all that?" she breathed without realizing.
Her eyes followed the man standing before the creature—Julies, the cunning parasite bound by contract.
While the monster’s massive body writhed and distorted, its shadowy limbs lashed out in every direction. Each strike could flatten a building, yet somehow, Julies slipped through them effortlessly.
To some attacks, he didn’t even react—as if he knew they weren’t real.
To others, he moved with precise, minimal motion—just enough to evade by a hair’s breadth.
And all the while, his expression never changed.
That same infuriating smirk stayed on his face as he toyed with the monster, his dagger glinting under the fractured moonlight.
’Did he... somehow see through all the illusion magic? Because he’s a parasite too?’ she thought, her stomach tightening.
—Whoosh.
The blade sliced cleanly through the air, cutting through the shifting shadow-flesh with practiced ease.
—Crack! —Crunch!
Each strike landed like punctuation marks in a cruel sentence. The monster roared, its distorted body twisting in pain, black ichor spilling across the ground.
Yet Julies moved like a ghost, dancing through its reach—dodging every swing, every blast, every desperate attempt to strike him down.
To her, it looked impossible.
To him, it looked effortless.
The creature howled, shaking the forest with its rage. And Julies only smiled wider, his voice calm—almost mocking.
"Come on," he murmured, his tone laced with amusement. "You’re making this too easy."
Another flash of silver, another cut through shadow.
"You’re not trying hard enough. Try harder. At this rate, you won’t be able to seize the throne you so desperately desire."
’Annoying.’
Amelia’s brows twitched, her lips tightening into a frown.
Julies had that smug, infuriating tone again—the kind that could make even saints consider murder. If he’d just stopped taunting for a second, it might’ve actually looked cool. But no, he had to ruin his own flair with sarcasm.
Then—
"Kraaak! KIIING! DIEEEE!"
The monster’s mouth split open wider than its face should allow, its jagged teeth glistening under the red glow of mana. Each breath it took rattled the ground, a sound like gravel grinding in a furnace.
Its shadow loomed over Julies. One snap from that jaw and he’d be gone.
But instead of dodging, Julies laughed.
"Who would kindly die just because you asked?" He shifted his stance, sword flashing in his hand. "You die instead."
He launched forward in a blur of motion.
—Slash!
Crimson arcs burst through the air as his blade carved deep into the creature’s chest.
Again and again he cut, each strike sharper and faster than the last. But instead of blood, only tar-like flesh splattered across the snow, writhing and reforming as soon as it was struck down.
It was useless—until it wasn’t.
—Screeeech!
The monster let out a shriek that split the night, raw and grating, like steel scraping against bone.
Julies’s sword had found its mark.
He stood there, breath steady, the blade glinting coldly as he held something wriggling in his other hand.
A blood-red tongue, still dripping, twitched between his fingers.
Julies smiled—a cruel, mocking curve that didn’t reach his eyes.
"Ha. Now, even after transforming, you can’t speak. Can’t taste. Can’t lie." He tilted his head, voice low and deliberate. "Tell me, parasite—what will you do now, after losing your most precious piece?"
The monster’s scream turned into a guttural wail, its black body convulsing violently, shadows twisting in on themselves.
Amelia froze for a second, her heart pounding in her chest. That grin on Julies’s face—it wasn’t human. It was cold. Predatory. The kind that didn’t distinguish between monster or man.
And yet...
She exhaled softly, feeling her grip on her staff loosen just a little.
"Thankfully," she whispered, watching him from behind the haze of frost and blood, "he’s not our enemy."
At least not today.