"I advise you to give me the antidote now, or you'll be in big trouble." Shust kept eyeing the window, looking restless.
"Hey, I warn you—stop plotting. I'm busy!" Moya strained at the wheel, maneuvering the cart through the tangled branches.
"Stupid brat. I'd rather stay alive than die because of your idiocy." Shust nearly raged, but Moya ignored him, even stuffing cotton in his ears.
On the roof, Rick continued navigating, but the forest's atmosphere felt increasingly wrong. The leeches and water worms had vanished—relieving but eerie. He jabbed the water with his branch, finding nothing but murk.
"Something's off—too quiet... There's definitely something under the water." Rick, with a wild insect egg implanted, had a predator's sense of impending danger—this intuition had saved him before, so he trusted it.
"Moya, stop." Rick knocked on the window with his branch.
"What's up?" Moya rolled down the window slightly.
"Not sure. I feel bad—need to check around." Rick scanned the area, finding some security in the thick trunks and dense canopy.
"Idiot! Won't you give me the antidote? The other kid is smarter—he knows how to protect himself." Shust yelled angrily.
"Shut the fuck up! Rick can handle this. I won't let you cause trouble!" Moya felt uneasy at Rick's tension. He hesitated about the antidote but wouldn't unleash this ticking time bomb until necessary.
"Damned fool. If I get the chance, I'll kill you first."
"Shut up!"
Time ticked by—nothing happened. The silence was tomb-like, broken only by the tide slapping the cart. Rick refused to move, standing like a statue. Moya and Lav grew restless, cramped from staying still.
"Is Rick overreacting?" Moya couldn't take it, ready to ask if they could move.
Suddenly, the water surged. A black shadow leaped from the murk like lightning, lunging at Rick on the roof.
"Here we go!" Rick spotted the shadow instantly, crouching to leap onto a nearby branch as the cart bobbed. A perfect dodge—until he saw the shadow dive back, then spring from the water to his perch.
"How is this possible?!" Rick gaped—no one could "walk on water" and leap so high. This split-second shock cost him. A gust of wind hit; he swung his sickles instinctively.
Bang!
The collision shrieked. The opponent was strong. On solid ground, Rick could have held his own, but balanced on a forearm-thick branch, he couldn't withstand the impact. The branch snapped, and Rick was sent flying.
"Rick!" Moya's heart stopped.
Watching anxiously, Rick twisted mid-air, wrapping his legs around a hanging vine to avoid falling.
"The terrain's against him—he'll die. Give me the antidote!" Shust's voice calmed but carried unyielding authority. Moya and Lav exchanged a pale, hesitant glance.
Their standoff didn't stop the fight. As Shust demanded the antidote, Rick used the vine to flip up, cut it, and land on a higher branch. "Must stay away from the water—falling means death."
"Not bad, kid." A metallic voice sounded as the shadow emerged, standing on a branch opposite Rick.
"Who are you? I've never seen you in the Wolf Pack." Rick eyed him warily.
"Wolf Pack? Hahaha... Now it's a dog pack. They lack a worthy leader, and I will be that leader. Remember—my name is Balzac."
"Balzac!" Rick jolted. Before the mission, he'd learned from Moya about the Wolf Pack—Balzac the Diving Beetle, one of the Four Pillars, a "versatile warrior."
"Your ambition to lead has nothing to do with me. You should go after Kashin." Rick crouched, ready to dodge.
"A leader must slay enemies. Kashin failed, so he's unworthy. I'll take your heads back and claim the pack." Balzac smiled, eyeing the cart. "Why isn't Shust coming out? Waiting for the perfect moment to kill me?"
Rick kept silent—he wasn't dumb enough to reveal Shust's poisoning.
"He fears Shust. I have a chance to win!" The thought sparked, and Rick attacked, diving as a green blur, sickles arcing toward Balzac's head.
"Good speed, but this isn't solid ground." Balzac leaped down, diving into the water before Rick's blades struck.
"Dammit!"
Missing the strike, Rick hastily steadied himself on the swaying branch. The terrain was killing him—his only "battlefield" were a few overhead branches, while Balzac dominated the entire vertical space, easily pushing him toward disaster.
Suddenly, the branch under Rick's feet lurched. A thick trunk tilted from below, crashing into the water and sending up a wall of spray. "He's cutting the roots underwater!"
Before Rick could leap to another branch, it too began to shake. With only four or five thick branches within reach, he knew Balzac's strategy but couldn't stop it. After three forced leaps, he had nowhere left to go—only floating logs and unreachable canopy branches remained.
"I should've jumped to the canopy first." Regret didn't help. Even if he reached the canopy, he couldn't protect Moya and Lav in the cart. Trapped on a floating log near the water, one slip would send him into Balzac's clutches.
"Give it to him!" A desperate roar burst from the cart.
Boom! The log split in two. Rick leaped, but Balzac erupted from the water, twin curved blades chasing him. Mid-air, Balzac's serrated edges snagged Rick's sickles, and he rammed into Rick's chest, dragging them both under.
Murky water flooded Rick's mouth and nose. He thrashed, kicking free, but his battle-form hands (now sickles) made swimming impossible. Even if Balzac let him go, he'd drown. Sinking deeper, he saw a shadow dart toward him through the haze. "It's over."
Then a silk thread stabbed the water, looping around his waist. Yanked upward like a rocket, he was flung into the canopy. Gasping for air, Rick collapsed among the branches, light-headed from oxygen deprivation. When his vision cleared, he saw Shust leaping three meters above the water, while Balzac weaved just above the surface.
"What's happening?" Rick gaped, then recalled Moya's insect analyses. Balzac the Diving Beetle—his Demon-Rank Diving Beetle was a "universal warrior" excelling in complex terrain, using its short blades and flight to dominate space. Shust's Demon-Rank Sky Wolf Spider, conversely, relied on silk, venom, and traps—deadly in the right hands but limited in spatial control.
Both were masters, but Balzac's Insect General Fourth Stage Realm gave him an edge, matching a wild Diving Beetle's abilities. Shust, only Second Stage, could use 60% of his spider's power—and had to spare a hand for silk, leaving him one-handed.
After several clashes, Balzac exploited Shust's weakness: cut his silk and dominate the high ground. Flapping his back wings, Balzac shot upward. Shust followed, but Balzac reached the peak first, slashing the silk. Shust fell, firing another thread—Balzac cut it mid-air, diving like a hawk to drown him.
As Balzac's blade neared Shust's chest, the latter smiled eerily. "No!" Battle-hardened Balzac realized he'd been baited. A sharp wind slashed his scalp from behind. Twisting mid-air, he raised his blades—only to see Rick's sickles expanding in his vision, their tempered patterns clear.
BOOM! A thunderous crash split the air. Rick's charged strike sent Balzac flying, shattering his teeth with sheer force. Even Balzac's flight couldn't absorb the impact. As he fell toward the water, safety within reach, something snagged him—"Spider web!"
Balzac sliced the web, but Shust was already on him. A blade pierced his armor, injecting icy liquid before he could dive. Gritting his teeth, Balzac vanished beneath the surface.
Slowly, a pool of crimson blood surfaced from the water, followed by gurgling bubbles. Rick landed heavily on the cart's roof, sickles raised warily as he scanned the murky water. Shust hung mid-air by spider silk, his sharp gaze seeming to pierce the surface.
Soon, leeches attracted by the blood swarmed the stain, sucking greedily. Water worms, absent for so long, also converged. Rick relaxed, turning to Shust: "Is he dead?"
"Probably not, but he's no threat—for now." Shust smiled coldly, eyeing Moya through the cart window.
"Hey! Don't get any ideas." Rick met Shust's gaze unflinchingly.
Staring into Rick's eyes, Shust seemed to test his resolve. "You know I crave freedom, not chains."
"No one likes being controlled." Rick paused, voice firm. "But I won't let anyone threaten who I protect."
"Protecting others is a deadly hobby." Shust lengthened his silk, hovering before Rick.
"Living alone isn't much better. That life's never exciting."
Shust fell silent, Rick's words striking a chord. Thirty years as "Nirvana," the infamous headhunter—hundreds of hunters dead by his hand. But what did that honor mean in the shadows? He always licked his wounds alone, a wounded beast.
Sensing Shust's waver, Rick pressed: "Here's a chance at a new life. Why not try?"
"A new life?" Shust laughed bitterly, eyes turning cold again. "I can't sleep without blood. How can I change?"
Rick was speechless.
"Enough talk." Shust regained his edge, eyes on Lav's pale face. "I like Rick—won't fight him. But I won't risk my safety for a girl's pocket. I prefer controlling my fate."
"Must we fight?" Rick sighed.
"Not necessarily." Shust glanced at Rick. "I just want this poison gone. She's an insect expert—let her cure me. I've no urge to bully a kid."
"Lav!" Rick turned, hopeful.
"I can't. It's impossible." Lav shook her head, miserable.
"Then we have a problem." Shust's face darkened.
"Wait!" Rick blocked Shust, yelling at Lav: "Idiot! Want him to use you as a hostage?"
"Even if he does, Grandpa can't cure him. This mixed poison has no antidote." Lav bowed her head, guilty.
"No antidote?!" Shust paled, imagining a life chained by poison—like a dog on a leash. "Nanze, you old fox! I'll take your granddaughter down with me!"
As Shust raged, eyes red, Rick shouted: "Lav, think! You're an expert—there must be a way!"
"There is... but..." Lav's voice trailed off.
"But what? Speak, or your pretty head becomes water worm shit!" Shust snarled, on the brink.
Lav flinched: "I helped develop this poison. It contains toxins from an unknown Armance Wasteland insect—brought by Grandpa's friend. It severs insect-human cell bonds... making you a test subject."
"Fuck!" Shust spat toward Terry County. Rick and Moya winced—especially Moya, also a test subject.
"I lack data on that insect—just know it's Illusion-Rank. No cure yet. But all poisons evolve for hunting. Nature has counters. The antidote must exist in Armance." Lav's eyes lit with the passion of a dreamer.
"So once we reach Armance, you can cure me?" Shust calmed, though suspicion lingered. "How did you make the temporary antidote?"
"That... It's simple—embryo fluid from various insects. The toxins target the embryonic cells, reconnecting your cells temporarily."
"Embryo fluid? Hilarious." Shust relaxed. "So as long as I keep taking it, the poison stays busy?"
"Actually... no." Lav flinched at Shust's glare. "The effect fades. Isolated insect cells decay. And without a cure, you can't implant new eggs."
Shust closed his eyes, defeated. Rick and Moya looked away—this was a fate worse than death.
After a heavy silence: "Maybe this is my destiny..." Shust spoke, voice drained of edge, heavy with resignation.
"Shust, you—" Rick approached.
"You're right. Without this poison, I'm already a madman. A change might help—maybe weaken my bloodlust without my powers." Shust seemed human now, the danger gone.
Relieved, Rick dropped his guard. "You still have a chance. We're heading to Armance anyway—maybe you'll find a new path."
"Or finish my ten-thousand kill count faster." Shust grinned wickedly, stunning Rick. He stormed into the cart, grabbing Lav: "How long does the embryo fluid last?"
"Th-thirty-six hours..." Lav cowered.
"Thirty-six hours? Plenty for a few kills..."
"Maybe I shouldn't have unchained this demon..." Rick wiped cold sweat, staring at the cart. "Ten-thousand kills... Jesus, the nerve of this guy..."