ROAR! Edmund bellowed, his twin fists like iron mauls crashing down. Heat spiked in Lian’s chest—then her feet bit the earth and her body slipped like a fish through a current, knifing to his back.
She leveled both hands; green mana surged and braided like vines in a storm.
“Five-Element Arcanum: Sixteenfold!”
Sixteen beams of pure, five-hued power punched into Edmund’s back. They bloomed into a thunderhead of fire and dust. Lian’s heart stayed taut as a bowstring. She’d tried this before—the black miasma was a bottomless pit, swallowing every spell whole. Those beams wouldn’t matter.
ROAR!
As she expected, Edmund’s claws tore the smoke like paper. His massive frame surged out, eyes burning like coals locking on her. His maw yawned wide; twenty-eight tiger fangs flashed like knives. Black mana gathered between his teeth—a spell, no doubt.
A shiver of dread, then focus. Lian traced the air; nature’s mana sketched a strange array like frost on glass.
“Yin-Yang Mirror: Yin!”
A black mirror unfolded before her like a night lake. Edmund’s spell finished, and he fired.
The black mana slammed the thin mirror with a cannon’s fury. It looked no thicker than a wafer. Anyone else would doubt it. But Lian’s craft didn’t need faith. The miasma could not pierce that fragile-looking veil. It shuddered, but held, until the last of the darkness burned out against it.
Only Lian knew what came next. She turned her wrist; a whisper slipped from her lips.
“Yin-Yang Mirror: Yang!”
Swish—the black face flashed white, like dawn breaking. The devoured miasma surged free at once, all of it sighting down on Edmund.
Mana has no eyes, same as a bullet. The black torrent bored through Edmund’s right forearm. A few drops of blood crawled down his clenched fist.
Got him. The thought burst like sunlight; Lian couldn’t hide her grin. It proved it—the black fog that looked untouchable could be pierced only by its own kin. Shame she’d burnt a Yin-Yang Mirror for it. Reflecting his spell pushed it to the brink. That thing was scarier than she’d guessed.
But a beast in blood-rage doesn’t mind a scratch. The iron taste only stoked Edmund’s battle hunger.
His body dipped and launched, a shadow hawk taking wing. He twisted midair; a tail of black mist coiled from his spine and slammed down like a falling pillar.
Shock pricked Lian’s scalp. Are you kidding me? Attack, defend, shapeshift—where do I buy one? I’ll take a tail to go! She snarked as she slipped aside, light as smoke. The gouge the tail carved into the ground yawned deep; the earth god would not be pleased.
The miss only made Edmund wilder. More tails—no, tentacles—sprouted from his back like a forest at night, then stabbed down in a ruthless rain.
Lian weaved through them, breath quick and mind racing. Melee, and I’ll get corroded. Ranged does nothing. The Yin-Yang Mirror’s on cooldown. Damn it! No way through? Give me a proper weapon and I’ll smash you flat!
Wait.
A weapon?
A sharp, guilty spark. Sorry, you-know-who. I just won’t tell her.
She slipped past a stabbing tentacle, palms pressed together. In less than a heartbeat, her hands blurred through a string of signs.
“Instant Step Technique!”
Puff—smoke kissed the air. Lian vanished. Edmund’s tentacles froze. He sniffed, nose twitching, hunting scent like a hound.
“Stupid mutt! Don’t bother. I’m up here!”
Her voice rang from above. Edmund didn’t look. He hurled his tentacles toward the sound like spears.
“Chains of Eightfold Binding!”
Chains hissed in empty air—no iron in sight. Yet the flying tentacles jerked to a halt as if snagged by unseen anchors. Edmund’s instincts screamed to move, but every limb reported the same truth—something invisible held him fast.
Clang—clang—more metal sang in the sky. This time, chains flashed into sight, glinting like cold rain. With them came a book with a strange cover, drifting like a verdict.
The moment Edmund saw it, bloodshot eyes welled. A single tear slid free. His throat worked. His lips moved around words no one could hear.
“Then… let me send you on.”
That sweet, childlike voice fell from the sky, yet now it weighed like a death sentence.
Boom! Script hit Edmund dead center. It smashed him into the earth like a meteor. The black aura had no time to cling to anything. It fell with him, ragged and helpless.
A heartbeat later, Lian floated down. She tugged a chain; Script slid off Edmund’s chest and snapped back into her hand like a falcon to glove.
“Whew. Finally handled. I don’t know who you are, but I held back. If I went all out, you’d be dust. So stop playing dead.”
Edmund lay still as stone. Only the black mist crawled, pooling at his wound like oil. It swelled and shaped itself—two greatswords took form, their edges drinking the light.
Lian’s joking mood blew out like a candle. Unease climbed her spine.
“Hey… you can’t be that fragile, right? Don’t scare me. I don’t know who you are, but I don’t want you dead.”
Silence. He was a corpse in everything but name.
Bad. Very bad.
She hurried in, grasped the hilts, and wrenched the two greatswords from his chest. Green mana poured from her palms in a river. Her family’s Perfect Restoration swept over Edmund, the light flickering and dancing across his skin like spring leaves in wind. Color crept back into his death-pale face.
Seeing change, Lian let herself breathe. She gathered more mana to push harder—
A big hand snapped up and caught her wrist. The flow broke.
