Chapter 52: Julian’s Power

Julian‘s beast had tackled the remaining monster to the ground, while Julian had closed the distance with rapid steps driving his beginner’s spear through the monster’s head with one clean thrust, ending its life.

The only remaining threat was the first monster—the one that had been directly struck by the magical fireball. It was still writhing on the asphalt, its body blackened and smoking, its combat capability reduced to nothing.

Julian didn’t grant the creature a single second to recover. Stepping past his summon, he advanced upon the scorched beast and gave it one final strike.

The creature shuddered once and went completely limp.

Michael’s eyes narrowed, calculating. “You already have a skill? That means you’re already at Level 5.“ His gaze flicked briefly to Julian’s summon, still lingering by the shattered doors, before returning to the spear in his classmate’s grip. “Is it a class skill, or one you purchased?“

Julian let out a short, disbelieving breath. “Ah, you already know. That means you’re at Level 5 too.“ He paused, studying Michael with a mixture of respect and unease. “Not that I’m surprised. You’re probably even higher than that.“ He shifted his weight, adjusting the makeshift bandage he’d wrapped around his forearm earlier. “But yeah, it’s a class skill. Not something bought from the shop.“

Michael’s mind processed the implication instantly, cross-referencing it against everything he’d already deduced about the System’s mechanics. A class skill at Level 5, on top of a summoning talent capable of scaling indefinitely. The math didn’t just add up—it multiplied. “Really?“ he said, his tone even, betraying nothing of the calculations running behind his eyes. “You have a summoning talent and a magician class. Is there something better than this? You really have the best combo.“

Julian’s mouth twitched into something between a smile and a grimace. “You think so?“ He flexed his fingers, glancing down at them as though searching for some proof of strength that wasn’t visibly there. “But I’m destined to be physically weak. My class stats put almost nothing into strength or vitality. If I didn’t have my summon in front of me, one hit from a Level 3 variant would probably put me on the ground.“

“For physical combat, you have your summons,“ Michael replied without missing a beat, already pivoting his attention toward the building around them. “But let’s not waste time talking about future matters when we can’t even guarantee we’ll survive the next few minutes.“ His gaze swept across the lobby’s shattered glass, the scorch marks still smoking faintly on the tile, the darkened corridor beyond. “We need to check if there are monsters in here—and more importantly, portals. I assume portals stay active permanently. My guess is they just need time to recharge enough energy before teleporting the next wave of monsters. If there are no portals in this building, that would be the best-case scenario for us.“ He rolled his shoulder, resetting the grip on his shortsword. “Let’s go.“

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Julian opened his mouth, the question about Michael’s own class and skill sitting right at the edge of his tongue. But Michael was already moving, already three steps into planning their next phase of survival, and stopping him now to ask about something as trivial as a skill name felt suddenly, glaringly inappropriate. Julian swallowed the question and let it dissolve, filing it away for a moment that might never come.

They split up, moving toward opposite ends of the ground floor to cover more ground in less time. Neither of them voiced it aloud, but both silently agreed there was no need to clear the entire structure—just enough to confirm the immediate area was survivable. *It should be enough if there are no monsters or portals on this floor* Michael thought, his footsteps silent against the marble as he moved past overturned reception furniture and a toppled potted plant, its leaves scattered across the floor like a trail of debris.

The stairwell told a different story. Michael crouched briefly at its base, his gaze tracing claw marks gouged into the plaster, smears of dried ichor streaked down two full flights from somewhere above. The pattern was unmistakable—multiple sets of prints, moving in the same direction, descending. Something came from higher up. And it came down fast. He filed the observation without reacting, continuing his sweep of the ground floor with thoroughness—behind the reception desk, inside the darkened break room, through a narrow corridor leading toward what had once been conference rooms.

No monsters. No trace of a shimmering distortion in the air. This floor, at least, was clean.

Julian returned a few minutes later, his spear lowered, his summon trailing quietly behind him with its strange, half-formed silhouette flickering at the edges. “There were no monsters and no portal,“ he reported, a note of relief breaking through his exhaustion. “We got lucky!“

Michael’s expression didn’t shift, but something behind his eyes sharpened. “Lucky, in an unlucky way.“ He gestured toward the stairwell behind him, his voice dropping into the flat, analytical cadence Julian had already come to associate with him processing a threat. “I think there’s a portal somewhere above us. There are monster tracks in the stairwell—claw marks, dried blood, all leading downward. My assumption is that they ran from a higher floor, down through this stairwell, and out into the street.“ He let the implication settle for a moment before continuing. “That means, eventually, more monsters will come. We don’t have much time.“ His eyes locked onto Julian’s, sharp and unblinking. “So. What’s the plan?“

Julian exhaled slowly, steadying himself. “There are just too many monsters out there,“ he said, his voice edged with the exhaustion of someone who had already spent every reserve of adrenaline he had. He tilted his head toward the shattered glass doors, toward the ruined street beyond, not the stairwell behind them. “We’re both strong enough to survive, sure, but we can’t realistically keep pushing forward like this. Not against that many.“ He glanced at Michael, his grip on the spear tightening again. “That’s why I think we should head back to the others at the university. Regroup there, figure out a real plan instead of just—“

Before he could finish, Michael cut him off, his voice sharp and immediate. „What do you mean, the others?“