"What are you going to do?" Elene asked.

  "Something stupid," Arthian answered directly.

  "How stupid?"

  He pointed at the territory holder's lieutenant. Tall frame. Thick armor. Dense energy.

  "That stupid."

  Elene stared at him. "You're truly insane."

  "I told you."

  Arthian knew he was taking a risk. And he *chose* to risk it anyway.

  The lieutenant wasn't low-tier prey. It was a mobile power node. A *refined* energy source.

  *If I can absorb even a fragment, 8% will jump to 9% immediately.*

  "What's the plan?" Elene asked.

  "Get close. Absorb. Flee."

  "That's not a plan. That's a prayer."

  Arthian smiled faintly. "Yes."

  He used danger instinct to read death threads. Avoided every point where area rules were dense.

  Step by step.

  Slowly.

  Very carefully.

  *Just a bit more...*

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  He got too close by one step.

  The ground under his feet didn't explode. No warning signal. No rebound force.

  But the *void* in his chest *vanished*.

  *Trap.*

  Not a trap that destroyed power. It was a trap that *locked the soul core*.

  "Arthian!" Elene shouted.

  Crushing pressure came from all directions. The 8% core was compressed like thin glass. Cracks spread immediately.

  Arthian fell to his knees. Black blood flowed from nose and mouth.

  *Mistake.*

  This wasn't calculation error.

  This was *information he didn't yet have*.

  The lieutenant turned. Eyes cold. No anger.

  It was about to crush the *Exception* out of the system.

  Elene lunged in—

  "Don't!" Arthian shouted. "You'll die!"

  "Then you want me to just watch?!"

  "*Yes!*"

  But she didn't listen. She lunged in anyway—

  *WHAM*

  Something *crashed* into that scene from the side.

  Not an energy wave. Not a spell.

  But a *body* hurled in like a living weapon.

  *CRASH*

  The impact force tore the spell field to shreds. The lieutenant was blasted dozens of meters away. Armor cracked. Power structure unbalanced.

  That woman stood at the impact point. Breathing hard. Blood flowing from shoulder, arm, and side.

  Energy around her *burned* like fuel combusting too fast.

  *Verin.*

  She didn't look at Arthian. Didn't ask who he was. Didn't care if he lived or died.

  "Overlapping target," she said like reporting status. "I need its head too."

  Arthian stared at her. "Why help?!"

  "Not helping," Verin answered shortly. "Just happen to want the same thing."

  The lieutenant roared. Tried to restructure.

  Verin didn't wait. She lunged at it again. No form. No defense.

  Only *exchange*.

  Every time she attacked, her body broke more. Life force burned as fuel. Lifespan vanishing before their eyes.

  But the lieutenant *retreated*.

  Elene watched in astonishment. "She... she's burning her own life."

  "Yes," Arthian replied. "And she knows."

  Verin's blood scattered on the ground. Not red blood, but blood with black smoke rising.

  In the split-second gap, the trap locking Arthian's soul core loosened.

  Not perfect. Not safe.

  But *enough*.

  Arthian *opened* the void immediately. Absorbed energy scattered from the battlefield.

  Structural fragments. Torn impurities. Ownerless power.

  It wasn't elegant consumption.

  It was *scooping*.

  The density in his chest increased. Cracks began mending. The soul core shifted past that familiar line.

  *9%*

  Not a beautiful surge. Not enlightenment.

  But *seizing opportunity from another's blood*.

  The lieutenant retreated deep. It vanished in the same instant Verin fell to her knees.

  She didn't collapse. Didn't scream. Just couldn't stand.

  Arthian stood. Still swaying, but eyes steady.

  He walked over to her.

  "I didn't help you," Verin said first, voice hoarse.

  Arthian knelt beside her. "I know."

  "You didn't help me either."

  "I know."

  She looked at him. "Then what?"

  "Thank you."

  Verin was stunned, then laughed shortly. Blood flowing from her mouth.

  "You're strange."

  "I've heard that often."

  She turned away. Walked off slowly. Leaving a trail of blood as her path.

  "If you plan to continue," she said without turning back.

  "Don't call it a mistake."

  A pause.

  "Call it a *lesson*."

  Arthian watched her go.

  The hunger in his chest changed form. Not just hunger for power.

  But hunger for *level*.

  He saw now that those who walked this path stayed permanently for no one.

  They appeared. Exchanged. Departed.

  Leaving only remains.

  And those remains were *food for the next*.