Transmigrated as the Cuck.... WTF!!!-Chapter 46. ’Friends’

Elia opened her mouth, her voice barely more than a whisper. "H-How about we run?"

Heath followed her gaze, his eyes narrowed, lips twitching into a bitter smile. "I don’t think that guy’s just going to stand there and let us."

Xin stepped forward, dagger already in hand. His stance dropped low, honed and ready. "Yeah... I don’t think so either."

Vanessa, her expression unreadable, flicked her fingers sharply. Flames burst into being, coiling around her palm like a living serpent. "Then we fight. Get ready, Elia. Either fight... or die."

Those words hit Elia like a hammer. Her heart pounded in her ears, loud and frantic. Her knees trembled, her breath caught.

For a moment, she looked like she might break—her eyes glistened, as if tears would spill at any second.

But then she clenched her jaw. She forced her hands together, pressing them tight.

"[Blessed Armour]!"

A shimmering dome of translucent blue light enveloped them instantly—thin, fragile-looking, yet warm and steady. A protective veil wrapped around the group, like a mother’s embrace in a frozen wasteland.

The others glanced at her—surprised, maybe impressed—and nodded. They didn’t speak. They didn’t have to.

Then they ran.

Without hesitation, they charged straight at the monstrous golem.

Xin was the fastest—his figure became a blur as he darted forward, a shadow skipping across snow.

In the blink of an eye, he reached the golem’s towering leg. His dagger flashed in an arc of silver and mana, and with precision born from countless fights, he plunged it deep into the creature’s right leg.

A thin crack ran up the golem’s knee from the point of impact.

Heath was right behind him. His body glowed with emerald mana as bark-like armor wrapped around his limbs. Wood hardened around his fists and forearms like gauntlets.

He roared, his momentum unstoppable, and slammed both fists into the golem’s other leg. The sheer force created a crater of splintering snow and ice, leaving a jagged hole through its shin.

Vanessa was the last to close the distance, but the most devastating. As she sprinted forward, her flames gathered rapidly into a blazing torrent. Then, with both arms extended forward, she unleashed it.

A wall of fire surged forth—a roaring wave of molten fury that swallowed the ice golem whole.

The flames roared as they burned, melting and distorting the very air around them. The others stepped back instinctively from the heat, shielding their faces.

As the fire raged and the smoke curled, a moment of silence fell.

The trio—Xin, Heath, and Vanessa—exhaled collectively. Their attacks had landed. The golem had taken damage. The threat—

Was it over?

But then the fire began to die down, as if suffocated by an unseen force. The last embers flickered out.

And there it stood.

Unscathed.

The holes in its legs were gone, the ice reformed seamlessly as if time itself reversed the damage. The golem’s surface glistened again with crystalline perfection, not even a scratch remaining.

Vanessa’s inferno had done nothing. Worse, it seemed like it hadn’t even noticed.

Then, the golem turned its head. Slowly. Deliberately.

Its dark eyes locked onto Xin, who was still trying to recover his stance.

Time froze.

Then, with terrifying speed and precision that defied its size, the golem’s massive arm swung.

A blur of white.

A deafening crack.

And Xin’s body was flung like a ragdoll across the air, crashing hard into the trunk of a moss-covered tree.

The protective dome—Elia’s [Blessed Armour]—fractured like glass on impact, bursting into hundreds of shimmering shards.

He crumpled to the ground.

A sickening sound followed as he coughed—then choked—on a mouthful of blood. It poured out in one violent spray, splattering the snow.

His limbs twitched.

Then fell still.

He didn’t get back up.

He didn’t even groan.

His eyelids fluttered once—just once—before closing completely. Whether unconscious or worse, no one could tell.

The remaining three froze.

The sheer weight of what had just happened crashed into them like a boulder.

One hit.

That was all it had taken.

One single hit to incapacitate Xin, who was arguably the fastest among them.

Vanessa’s flames dimmed, her arms trembling.

Heath’s jaw locked, his wooden armor now looking like paper against such power.

Elia, tears she had fought to hold back now flowing freely, covered her mouth in horror.

But the golem was not done.

Its torso twisted with unnatural fluidity, the blue runes on its icy armor glowing faintly. Without pause, it lunged toward Heath—its massive fist cocked back, gleaming with chilling frost.

"[Shield]!" Elia cried out, her voice cracking.

A faint blue barrier wrapped around Heath’s body—her defensive spell, cast out of desperation more than strategy.

The golem’s fist connected.

The shield held for a moment—a second, maybe two—before it shattered like brittle glass under a hammer.

The impact sent Heath flying, skidding across the snow and crashing into a patch of jagged ice. His breath left his body in a single, strained gasp. Blood trickled from his forehead.

He was still conscious—but barely.

The battlefield was silent for a heartbeat.

Only the sound of the golem’s icy joints creaking as it reset its stance echoed through the forest.

Elia dropped to her knees, shaking.

Vanessa stood frozen, mouth agape.

Heath groaned in the distance, struggling to rise.

With Heath down and unmoving, only one of the trio who had attacked the golem remained.

Vanessa.

Her flames had sputtered out, her confidence reduced to ash. The golem, slow and deliberate, began turning its hulking frame in her direction.

Each of its steps sent tremors through the ground, crunching snow beneath its massive weight.

Vanessa wanted to run—needed to run—but her body betrayed her. Her legs felt like stone pillars rooted to the earth.

Her arms trembled at her sides, useless. Her throat tightened, and her breath hitched.

Then she screamed.

A raw, blood-curdling cry tore from her lungs—a scream that echoed across the frozen grove, high and desperate and hopeless.

The golem kept walking.

Vanessa, voice hoarse, finally managed to glance back—hoping, praying for someone, anyone to step in and help.

But instead, what she saw broke her.

Elia.

She was running.

Running away. Not toward Vanessa. Not to check on Xin or Heath.

Just running. As fast as her legs could carry her, snow kicking up behind her like clouds of betrayal.

Vanessa’s mouth dropped open. "You... you bitch—"

But her curse died in her throat.

The golem was close now—its towering form casting a vast shadow over her.

This was it.

She was going to die.

All she could do was laugh.

A dry, bitter laugh that left her lips like a cracked whisper. She tilted her head back and let the absurdity of it wash over her.

So much effort.

So much training.

And for what?

Death by snow.

But the blow never came.

Vanessa flinched... and then blinked.

The golem didn’t strike her.

Instead, its attention diverted. It moved past her, beelining in a straight line—toward Elia.

Vanessa’s heart fluttered, then soared with joy. A vicious, twisted smile curled across her face.

She was going to live.

Without hesitation, she turned and bolted in the opposite direction. Not once did she spare a glance at Xin’s broken form or Heath’s crumpled body.

"Survival comes first," she muttered, laughing to herself. "Screw teamwork."

Heath, still conscious but wracked with pain, saw her fleeing figure and let out a hoarse, furious cry. "Hey! You bitch! Get back here and help us!"

Vanessa glanced back, only for a moment, eyes wide and wild. Her grin widened.

"You can rot in hell, you son of a whore!" she shouted. "Don’t act like you’re surprised! You and I both knew—we were all gonna kill each other eventually!"

She kept running.

"No use pretending! The moment this trial ends, it’s every man for himself! So go die in a ditch, Heath. I’m gonna live. Screw the Academy—I’ll get married, have some lazy noble’s babies and laugh every single day I wake up alive!"

Her laughter echoed long after she vanished into the thicket, swallowed by fog and trees.

Heath’s hands clenched into fists, nails digging into his skin. Blood trickled from the corners of his lips as he gritted his teeth and slammed his palm into the snow.

"Damn it... damn it all..."

He’d acted like he cared. Gathered a group of like-minded scum—people desperate enough to do anything, just like him.

They’d been tools, pawns. He’d planned to use them, then discard them. He was supposed to be in control.

But being the one who got betrayed? That hurt more than he’d expected.

Even monsters didn’t sting like this.

With curses slipping through his breath, his eyes slowly rolled back.

And darkness claimed him.

...

Elia, meanwhile, was sprinting with every ounce of strength she had. Her lungs burned, her vision blurred, and her heart felt like it would burst from her chest.

But her fear outran her pain.

Why the hell was the golem chasing her? She hadn’t even attacked the damn thing! She’d tried to help! She’d cast shields, protected them—

"Maybe that’s it," she gasped. "Maybe... maybe I should’ve let that bastard Heath die..."

She barely got the thought out before something struck her square in the back of her head.

A blunt, cold force.

Pain exploded behind her eyes—and then, nothing.

She collapsed forward, limbs slack, mouth agape as unconsciousness dragged her into oblivion.

...

Time passed.

Heath stirred first.

Groaning, his eyes fluttered open, each breath sharp and shallow. Every inch of his body screamed with pain.

But something felt... wrong.

He tried to sit up, only to realize he couldn’t move.

His arms were bound tightly at the wrists. His legs too. Thick strands of vine and moss wrapped around his limbs, rooted into the earth like they’d grown from it.

Even his mouth had been stuffed with a crude gag—twisted leaves and bark wedged deep enough to mute any coherent sound.

He thrashed once, then stopped, pain flashing down his spine.

Then he looked up.

And froze.

Just a few feet in front of him, standing calmly beneath a tree, was Leon.

He leaned casually against the mossy trunk, munching on a strange, purple fruit.

Juice trickled down his chin. His gaze was serene.

Too serene.

Heath wanted to scream his name—to beg for help or demand answers—but the gag stopped him.

Leon noticed the struggle.

His head tilted slightly.

Then a smile stretched across his lips.

A slow, unnatural smile.

Like something was wrong with it. Too wide, too relaxed. It didn’t reach his eyes.

He crouched in front of Heath, resting his chin on his hand.

For a long moment, he just stared.

Then Heath turned his head, heart pounding harder than before.

There—next to him.

Xin. Vanessa. Elia.

All three bound just like him. Unconscious. Muzzled. Arranged in a neat little line.

Like specimens.

He looked back at Leon.

Still smiling.

Still watching.

And then Leon spoke, his voice soft, almost childlike.

"Good morning," he said, wiping fruit juice from his lips. "Finally... we’re all together."