The numbers were mercilessly clear: it was mathematically impossible to bring down the monster before the five minutes ran out.
'If it is five minutes,' Elio thought, exchanging a look with Mei.
The hypothesis about the time limit was based on their experience with frenzy, Elio had seen that ability many times in his practices, confirming its duration.
But metamorphosis... they only had theories.
Mana was depleting, the monster's resistance seemed endless, and time... time crawled slowly, taking with each second more of their precious energy.
Desperation began showing on the soldiers' faces as they watched their attacks bounce harmlessly off the transformed monster's defense.
They needed a plan, and they needed it now.
The revelation hit Elio like lightning. His eyes swept across the battlefield, noticing for the first time the pattern in the Artromus's defensive behavior.
It was attacking much less now.
"THE EARTH!" His voice cut through the combat chaos. "ATTACK THE EARTH, NOT HIM!"
The order provoked confused looks until Elio continued: "We need more water in the crater! NOW!"
The artromus was limited, he realized.
The earth under its control was finite, already much less than what the crater could contain. For some reason, it had lost dominion over much of its element. That's why it hadn't formed a larger mass to escape the circle of soldiers.
"If it could create more earth," Taron murmured, catching on, "it would have done so already."
"Exactly," Elio smiled, that dangerous smile his companions had learned to recognize. "And if it can't create more..."
His hands began moving, preparing another lethal mixture. Hydrogen and fluorine answered his call, combining in that deadly dance the artromus had come to fear. Read exclusive content at mvl
"Let it see what happens when its precious earth dissolves in acid," Zara completed, positioning herself for her own attack.
The builders began pouring more water into the crater while Elio prepared his chemical bomb. Every gram of earth that fell into that cauldron would meet a corrosive fate.
The artromus's expression changed subtly, almost imperceptibly, but it was enough to confirm Elio's theory with his enhanced perception. The monster wasn't worried about direct damage, but about losing control of its element.
Moments before...
The Artromus's face was an open book to Elio.
Every expression, every subtle change in its monstrous features, reminded him of Aranto's final moments.
His perception pushed beyond its limit had etched every detail of that revenge into his memory, especially the exact instant when arrogance gave way to fear, when determination transformed into desperation.
That sweet face that had made Elio rejoice.
When Aranto had played his final card.
And now, Arterro showed exactly the same expression: that of someone who had just desperately wagered their last card.
Elio hadn't needed to show his extreme speed.
There had been no need to waste mana or force his limits to keep pace with this Artromus. Though metamorphosis had made it formidable, its speed didn't even approach what Aranto had demonstrated.
But when Elio recognized that expression of final desperation, his reaction was instantaneous.
His eyes blazed with that crimson glow as his perception expanded. A muscular impulse, immediately followed by his winged salamander's power, catapulted him exactly where he needed to be.
The green scythe sang through the air, its edge cutting at extreme speed through Arterro's control over the earth, dispersing it in all directions.
But something caught Elio's attention.
Although the blade had connected directly with the Artromus, the damage had been less than his normal wind attacks. The monster's defense in this state was truly monstrous.
However, this apparent disadvantage revealed something crucial: all this time, he hadn't been launching wind attacks through the scythe... it had been a while without injecting it with mana, and still had managed to damage the Artromus.
A dangerous smile formed on his face as the realization settled. The scythe didn't need a constant injection of his mana to apply its magical wind damage and be lethal; it had very high efficiency, like nickel in spears.
His mana reserves wouldn't have to be as extensive as he had initially calculated to end the monster's resistance.
The weapon in his hands, born from Aranto's very essence, seemed to vibrate with anticipation. The irony was perfect: one Artromus's power would be the instrument of another's downfall.
'Thanks for the gift, you wretched freak,' Elio thought, while preparing for his next move. 'Your brother is about to discover what it feels like to be hunted by your own essence.'