"Captain what are you doing," Rose called out.

Shom immediately sprung into action. The high grade was almost dead all it took was a single mana pulse and it fell.

Michael turned to see the cause of the commotion. He nodded his head in what seemed like disappointment.

Before blacking out, Zeta forced up the strength to say, "If only I .."

Shom dropped her by Rose and Miles, told them to watch her.

"I was too busy reveling in Charles and Michael’s performance that I took my eyes away from Zeta’s match."

"She was doing well but not dominating like the others seemed to have been. I guess I just thought it would be a close match but maybe not an interesting one."

"I mean she did almost win. I guess not just the way I thought she would."

"All it took was a barely charged mana pulse to take it down."

"Rose didn’t even need to call me, if she had assessed the situation then maybe she could have gotten reward points for slaying a high end."

"Some of these guys just aren’t cutting it, huh," he said to himself rhetorically.

"I guess they’ll go back to doing their side quests soon enough."

"And that’s five, amazing Charles," Porter said.

Michael counted 8. He didn’t say it out loud, I guess he doesn’t want them to think the likes of him would even bother competing with the likes of them.

"I recently started carrying this combination. Charles is low on mana, I’ve been using both offense to attack and defense to save his ass since he’s gotten rather sluggish."

"With the current state of things, I’d say Michael’s taking the most points, Charles a second, Zeta third and myself fourth."

"Charles and Zeta are pretty much out of it right now, so if I can lock in then just maybe, I’ll bag the second highest reward points when all this is over," ’Porter thought.’

"10 incoming. All high ends," Michael shouted.

"What!" Charles exclaimed.

"I guess I’ll have to step in now."

"No, captain," Michael said. "If there’s no dungeon boss and this is all the points we can get then trust us on this."

Shom stood back, he smiled.

"I was originally going to join the raid so I could score as many points myself. This is an A rank gate after all."

"If I stayed back then this wouldn’t test you guys as much."

In an instant, Shom teleported and BAM. A high end was dead.

"I could have sworn I’ve faced stronger high ends," he said as he was a-top one.

He got attacked by 3, all firing row blasts aimed at him.

He teleported around, he appeared behind one about to kill it. He got pinned in place by a mana ring.

"Success," Michael said.

Shom looked and smiled so that’s how it’s going to be. Shom was restricted by some mana construct designed to siphen off power when mana makes contact.

"So if I use mana it’ll just go to waste huh. That’s too bad. I guess I’ll just stay back and watch as you intend," the captain said sounding all defeated, like he was a subject to a master. His tone was almost pretentious.

Besides jokes and all the fact Michael was able to use a Mager.

"(Mager: rare abilities that don’t fall under any talent type. Hard to learn, but most basic element talent wielders who hope to perform at high level are advised to learn it. Michael’s earth is a basic talent.)"

"Since the captain’s already dropped a piece off the board, I’m sure you boys would be fine having a piece to yourselves," Michael said.

They looked at him in disagreement.

They were talking but they were also dodging row attacks. Jumps and side passes.

It was rather intense.

"I meant a piece to yourselves, come-on, I didn’t mean to share."

"Ok big guy, now we get you," Porter said. "You sure you can handle seven all by yourself."

"Who does he think he’s talking to," ’Michael thought.’ "Sure I can," he said.

"I bet I can finish mine off way before you can," Charles said to Porter as he zoomed off.

"Thunder talent, no. 90, infinite fold," Charles chanted.

"You mean that guy still has mana left," Porter exclaimed.

"Is that even possible?"

The moment Charles stepped into range, the air began to fold.

Not visibly—not at first. But there was a pressure to it, a distortion that bent perception just enough to make distance unreliable. The high-end stood ahead, massive and steady, but the space between them no longer behaved the way it should.

Charles exhaled.

Then—

A bolt snapped into existence from the left.

It arrived—like the space itself had been folded and released. The lightning shot straight for the high-end’s flank, sharp and precise.

Charles moved at the same time.

From the right.

His blade carved across in a clean arc, perfectly timed with the impact of the bolt. Steel met flesh a fraction of a second after lightning did, the two strikes layering over each other. The result was immediate—a tearing cut driven deeper by the residual force of the bolt.

The high-end flinched.

Too slow.

Another fold.

This time the bolt came from the right.

Charles answered from the left.

His footwork slid across the uneven cave floor, body turning just enough to generate torque without overextending. The blade flashed again, cutting across the creature’s torso as the bolt slammed in from the opposite side. The combined force twisted the high-end’s upper body, dragging it off balance.

No wasted motion.

No pause.

The air folded again—twice.

Two bolts, different angles.

One from above. One from the left.

Charles adjusted instantly. He stepped in under the falling strike, letting the descending bolt crash into the high-end’s shoulder. At the same time, he pivoted right—his blade rising from low to high, intercepting the left-sided opening with a sharp diagonal slash that climbed across its ribs.

The cave lit up in stuttering flashes.

Lightning didn’t follow a rhythm here. It came in unpredictable bursts—single, double, sometimes three at once, from impossible directions. Each one distorted space just enough to disorient, to disrupt.

But Charles wasn’t reacting randomly.

He was reading it.

Every bolt created an opening on the opposite side. Every forced movement from the high-end exposed something else. Charles flowed through those gaps, his blade always arriving where the creature couldn’t defend.

Left—he struck right.

Right—he struck left.

Above—he cut upward from below.

Low—he answered with a descending arc.

The high-end roared, trying to stabilize, but Infinite Fold wouldn’t allow it. Its footing slipped—not physically, but spatially. The ground felt inconsistent beneath it, its sense of direction skewed as the bolts continued to arrive from warped angles.

Another burst—

Three bolts.

Front. Right. Rear.

The high-end turned to guard the first—

Mistake.

Charles was already moving.

He slipped past its guard, appearing on its blind side as the rear bolt detonated against its back. From there, his blade drove forward in a tight, horizontal slash, cutting clean across its midsection while the right-side bolt slammed in, amplifying the impact.

The creature staggered.

Its defense was unraveling.

Cuts began to stack—clean, deliberate, placed with intent. Not wild damage, but structured dismantling. Tendons. Muscle lines. Balance points. Each strike made the next one easier.

Charles never rushed.

His breathing stayed even. His grip steady.

The storm intensified around him, bolts firing in rapid succession now, but instead of chaos, it became a system—a pattern only he could follow. Every flash of lightning was a cue. Every impact was a setup.

The high-end slowed.

Then it faltered.

A bolt struck from the left—

Charles moved right.

His blade carved deep into its side.

Another from the right—

He answered left—

A sharper cut, higher this time, opening across the chest.

The creature dropped to one knee.

That was the end.

The folding space tightened once more, a final distortion as the air compressed around them. For a brief moment, everything aligned—distance, angle, timing.

Charles stepped forward.

Mana gathered along his blade—not wild, not overflowing, but condensed to a razor’s edge. The air around it hummed softly, bending just slightly under the pressure.

No more setup.

No more rhythm.

Just the finish.

The last bolt came from behind the high-end.

Charles moved in front.

As the lightning struck, he swung.

A single, clean slash—straight across.

The mana reinforced edge passed through resistance like it wasn’t there, the force of the bolt driving the cut deeper, cleaner, final.

Silence followed.

The folding stopped.

And the high-end fell apart.

"Well let’s go see how Porter’s doing."