“Sais?!” Medith felt her soul blow out like a candle in a gale. She sprang and caught Sais mid-fall, then hit safe ground like a leaf settling. A quick check showed Sais wasn’t badly hurt.
Only her forehead bore a brand, a sun-wheel pressed in hot iron, a scorched halo stamped on skin.
“What happened?!” The question rose first, sharp as frost. Then a figure flared up from the cliff edge, bright as a burning noon, sword in one hand, feet riding fire back to the mountaintop.
Robert had bounced back from midair, like a stone slung from the sky by an unseen sling, by some method no one could name.
Medith’s eyes went cold, a blade of night. She stared at the molten light dripping from his boots like liquid amber, remembered the blast, and pieced the pattern together.
“So that’s it. You used your Lawbreaking Ability to spark an instant explosion. Then rode the hot draft back on the recoil… I underestimated you… no— I underestimated what Lawbreaking can do.” Her voice laid down ice.
Robert saw more faces on their ridge than when he left. The tide had turned; the sea was against him. He wasted no breath. “Lawbreaking is far stronger than you think. You with your unearned, supreme gift—how could you grasp our grind?”
“Come, Medith. Let’s end this.”
“Hah. And how do you know mine came easy?” Her pride rose like a drawn bow. “You’re not the only ones who bleed.” She didn’t wait for a reply. “Fangge, lend me your blade. I’ll return it after.” She flashed forward like a swallow and drew the slender, keen katana from Fangge’s back in one breath.
“!” Fangge’s heart jumped like a startled deer. Her nerves were strung tight as a bowstring, yet she still couldn’t stop Medith’s hand. In her chest, a strange expectancy blossomed, tangled with a stubborn sourness.
“Sis Sais, are you okay?” Yunita rushed over, palms glowing like spring water, pouring a recovery spell. Trees stood thick around them, green as a tide. Grass breathed coolness. With Yunita’s aid and her own steadiness, the burning pain on Sais’s brow faded like mist in morning sun.
“Medith! Chop that pig head off for me! I’m kicking him off the cliff!” Sais’s fury spat sparks.
Medith faced away from them, shoulders straight as a spear, and dipped her head. Yunita and Fangge traded a stunned look. Their trust in Medith had grown cathedral-high; the enemy’s strength, they could all feel it like thunder in bone.
Strong… The word flashed through Nameless like a flint spark. He clenched his fists, then flicked his left heel back. The silver-white spear on his back jumped like a fish. He leaped and landed before Medith in a single bound.
“Commander, let me take this one. Please. It matters to me.” His voice was calm, but his aura shifted like weather.
If before he’d been a rusted blade left in rain, now the blade slid free of its sheath. The world dimmed. Sky cracked. The air tasted of steel and storm.
Medith met his black eyes, iron-willed and steady as basalt. She hesitated two breaths, then stepped back twice, rejoined the others, and sheathed the katana with a quiet sigh of wind. “Remember: underestimating the enemy is a soldier’s taboo.”
“Of course.” Nameless flashed a sunlit smile. The Lina Sisters lifted a hand without thinking, worry flowing first, then trust; both returned his smile like twin moons.
Boom—! Robert slammed his crimson blade into the ground. His Molten Armor clicked and groaned like cooling rock, and the sword trembled in his hands, as if the metal itself raged.
“You… you’ve gone too far. Far too far—” Shame burned him like a brand. He was a detachment commander of the Emperor’s core legion; people gave way when he walked, like reeds parting for the wind.
His strength and gift stood near the top of the ranks. Otherwise, why would the Emperor task him with assassinating Medith, and gift him a prototype war engine to boot?
In the whole Southern Kingdom, few could match that honor. Yet these small fry—
“You think I’m easy prey? Then try me! Brat who doesn’t know the height of the sky—” Robert roared, gripped the crimson blade, and bent low, lunging with hawk-fast speed.
Nameless moved on instinct, eyes bright as flint. He lifted the spear and stabbed downward. The tip met Robert’s blade in midair, clean as a nail, and pinned it to the earth.
Robert’s eyes twitched, a ripple on steel. He tried to wrench the sword up, but couldn’t break the bind of Nameless’s spear, a vise of iron wind.
Clang—ring! Nameless snapped the bind off and drove a lightning thrust. The sheer piercing force shoved Robert back step after step. Even the unbreakable Molten Armor showed a hairline crack, like ice in first thaw.
“Hmph. At this speed, you’re crawling compared to Lina’s arrows.” Nameless stood with spear in hand, a war god stepping from legend. Robert refused to yield; he surged forward again.
This time he changed tactics, trading the straight lunge for a leaping chop. His Lawbreaking Ability leaned defensive, born for close-in grapples. He dreaded spearmen and elite archers.
The former could pack all power into a single puncture, burning out his Lawbreaking in a blink. The latter could rain arrows and grind it down the same way. He had to close the gap—now.
Nameless watched, unhurried, calm as a lake with a blade beneath. He raised the spear from low to high. A streak of cold light crossed blue sky, and the cutting wind sounded like it would rip the very air.
Clang— The spear kissed Robert’s armor, a pebble on a boulder, hardly a sting, and it couldn’t halt the falling chop.
