Second Choice Noble Son: Apparently I’m Stronger Than the Summoned Heroes Chapter 78 : The Whispers of Wind

Selene’s POV

The corrupted land groaned beneath our steps, black soil cracking as if it resented our intrusion. The air was heavy, thick with decay — yet sothing sharper moved within it.

A hiss.

“—Move!”

Darius grabbed my arm, pulling down as a thin line of wind scread past, slicing a dying tree clean in half. The trunk toppled with a crash, splinters scattering like arrows.

I flared my mana instantly, gravity locking the shards in the air before they could hit us. They hung, trembling, before collapsing harmlessly into dust.

My heart hamred. That spell was precise. Too precise.

“That’s the sa magic Rooga described,” I muttered, eyes narrowing into the darkness.

Darius kept his sword half-drawn, his gaze sweeping. “It’s watching us. Testing. Just like it tested him.”

Another hiss. This ti from the side.

I countered with a burst of fla, burning the wind before it reached us — but the strike vanished before impact, like mist against fire.

Not even a clash. Just… gone.

Cold dread filled . Even my spells can’t pin it down.

Darius moved ahead, shielding despite his curse-riddled body. His blade glowed faintly with elf mana now, steadier than before but weaker than his pri. “It’s trying to tire us out. A hunter’s ga.”

He wasn’t wrong.

The wind ca again, a slash angled at his legs. He twisted aside, the hem of his coat fluttering as the ground split open.

“Selene,” he said, voice calm even as sweat lined his brow, “it’s not aiming to kill.”

I understood at once. My blood ran cold.

“…It’s studying us.”

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Another hiss, closer this ti, right past my cheek. A thin line of blood welled where it kissed my skin. Not deep — intentional.

Mocking.

I gritted my teeth, mana flaring so hard the ground around us cracked. “You dare mark ?”

The land trembled under the weight of my power, but even then, I felt it — the wind withdrawing, the presence slinking away, just beyond reach.

Darius’ hand pressed my shoulder before I could unleash Vermillion Spark. “Selene. Don’t waste it. That’s what it wants. To burn your strength here, far from ho.”

I froze, breathing hard. He was right. Again.

“…Then we retreat,” I whispered bitterly, hating the words even as I spoke them.

He nodded once. “And prepare. This isn’t the last ti it’ll co for us… or Rooga.”

The stench of rot thickened. My breath caught as the earth around us cracked open, spilling forth shapes. Dozens of them. Goblins — but not like any goblins of old. Their skin was gray-green, stretched and mottled with black veins. Their eyes glowed a sickly crimson, and their movents… wrong.

How? I didn’t sense them…

My heart lurched. This wasn’t incompetence — I was blind to them.

Darius swung his blade, cleaving three in one sweep, but even as their bodies fell, the soil drank them, leaving behind no corpse. The land itself absorbed them back.

Corruption… it feeds on mana. Flesh, life, magic, all the sa. Once it drains you dry, it gives you back… like this.

That was why the corrupted land endured. Why even with all my magic, all my battles, I could never conquer it. Every drop of mana spilled only made it stronger.

“Selene!” Darius’ shout snapped back as a goblin lunged. I crushed it midair with gravity, bones snapping like twigs. But the effort burned more mana from my core.

A hiss of wind sliced past , too sharp, too fast. I barely raised a barrier in ti. It shattered on impact.

Then he appeared.

From the shadows stepped a hunched figure draped in tattered hides, its crooked staff crowned with bone. A goblin — but not weak, not mindless. His eyes glead with cunning, and the air twisted around him.

The shaman.

“Caretaker,” he croaked, voice like rust scraping stone. His gaze pierced — no, past . Toward Rooga.

My stomach dropped.

“Next,” he hissed, his words carried by the wind itself, “I kill the child who waters the tree.”

Rage surged through , but my body betrayed . My hands trembled, dark streaks creeping along my skin. Corruption. Already leeching through my veins.

I staggered. My mana well ran shallow, dangerously close to empty. Even my gravity resisted now.

And then—

The ground shuddered as Darius stepped forward.

The air around him rippled. For an instant, I thought his curse had flared — but no. His aura was… different.

I froze, staring.

His core. I could see it, bright even without mage-sight. Not human blue, not elf green — but both, entwined, burning together in a brilliant cyan.

The corruption that once gnawed at him recoiled, eaten by that light.

And before stood not the weary man fading under curse and age, but the Darius I rembered — no, stronger. His presence pressed outward, a storm caged in flesh.

“Selene,” he said, his voice calm, his blade steady, “rest. I’ll handle this.”

The goblins snarled. The shaman hissed in surprise, his staff trembling.

And my heart — long burdened by fear — dared to hope again.