The wound cut deep. Yig could feel his organs split, his flesh scorched by a sinister glaze. He reached into his reserve of mana, his glowing aura pulling his chest back together. He panted—fresh air filling him again. But his aura… it had taken so much.

  Better thank that lady next time you see her, remarked Icarus.

  “That’s rather polite for you.”

  I suppose so. But I’d say she’s earned some gratitude.

  He was right. The wound he’d just taken… he’d have struggled to heal it that quickly with the aura he had before. It made no sense. Maybe Master Silver could explain it in the morning.

  “That power,” Quinlou said, “it can only last so long.”

  “Long enough, I think.”

  Dark mana swarmed Quinlou again. He lunged.

  Yig raised Icarus—just in time to notice another blob of dark material rise from the ground beside him, its end sharpened to a point. He sliced through it with ease, the remaining sections disintegrating. The substance was strange—somewhere between Sil’s clay and a milk-like liquid, all wrapped in an off-putting mystique.

  He ducked a slash, then rose with an underhanded strike. Quinlou blocked it with his second blade.

  More dark, sharp-ended tendrils sprouted from the ground, and soon Yig was fending off threats from every direction. He spun Icarus around his body, all at once deflecting Quinlou and destroying the dim-colored appendages. Then he leapt back, dodging two more swings.

  The dark material coating Quinlou’s blades pulsed and stretched, doubling in length. The next flurry of strikes ripped the wind around them, slashing with enhanced range that cut through houses from yards away.

  Yig weaved side to side, dodging the razor slivers of mana Quinlou hurled, all while stepping backward. Then, just as he regained balance, the house beneath him collapsed—its structure cleaved clean into three parts.

  “Hey!” Yig shouted. “This is people’s property, you know!”

  “Says the man who just launched me into a house moments ago.”

  “…Right. Fair point. But at least I felt bad about it!”

  “I’m getting tired of this, Yig! If this drags on any longer, it’s going to make me look bad!”

  “Hehehe. Tired? Are you getting tired, old man?”

  Quinlou gritted his teeth. A pulse of aura blasted toward Yig—the same he had shown before. His Levula.

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  Yig felt its dreadful presence before it even reached him. It wasn’t the same chilling fear induced by a Storm fighter—it was worse. You couldn’t help but be repulsed by it, disturbed by its very existence.

  Icarus erupted with light as Yig poured everything into the blade. Flames with the brilliance of stars dripped from it like lava, bursting glittering dust as they hit the ground. The weight was immense, but with the aid of his newfound aura, Yig completed the swing within a second.

  A shimmering crescent slash soared through the dreadful cloud, cutting it from front to back—then into its owner. Quinlou blocked with crossed blades, but the force still carried him backward, shearing through the coating on his weapons, then through the blades themselves, then into Quinlou’s flesh. Blood splattered across the pavement as he crashed through one wall… then another… and another.

  Oops, Yig thought, guilt sinking in.

  Don’t stop! Icarus yelled in his mind. He’s right—this is taking too long. End it!

  Yig bolted through the opening he’d just created, reaching his opponent just as he was standing.

  Quinlou quickly recoated his blades, and in the blink of an eye, the two exchanged what felt like a hundred blows. Each strike was enhanced by mana to such a degree that Yig was beginning to struggle to keep up.

  Then something strange. A faint sensation crept up Yig’s spine, cold and sharp. It made him hesitate, just for a breath. One blade sliced across his chest. A second followed, cutting above it. A third tore below, digging into his stomach.

  He tumbled back into a roll, just out of Quinlou’s reach, and sprang into the upper floor of the house Quinlou had crashed into earlier. The structure still stood, but a massive hole in the wall let the wind pour through.

  “You running now?” Quinlou called from below.

  Yig’s heart sank. In the corner of the room, an old man clutched his covers, curled into a ball on his bed. He looked terrified… and confused. And Yig… Yig had failed to protect him.

  Another slash tore through the house. Yig lunged forward, grabbing the man by his nightgown.

  The building collapsed, two neatly halved chunks crashing into each other.

  Yig landed on a nearby rooftop, the old man hoisted over his shoulder. Quinlou landed across the street, staring him down.

  “Let’s quit this, Quinlou,” Yig said stern, but pleading. “We’re heating this place up too much.”

  “This valley is under our control, Yig,” Quinlou replied. “I can do with it as I please.”

  Yig exhaled, focusing on sealing his fresh wounds while conserving aura. Then, he readied himself to fight again.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  With a foot wreathed in blue flames, Blū kicked the final Owlman into the ground. He collapsed next to the rubble, nearly smashing his back. He exhaled hard—his mana reserves finally giving out. For tonight, he was done. Completely drained.

  Sil and a few conscious Stearna moved among the wounded. Some could still conjure those strange bandages, but Sil… she didn’t look great. She helped anyway.

  “You have my deepest apologies,” the captain said, bowing his head as he worked. “This is a shameful stain on my character—a disgrace to the guard!”

  “Nobody blames you,” Joe replied. “It was something strange. Unexplainable.”

  “Whether or not you believe in the supernatural,” Sil added, “just remember—it wasn’t your fault.”

  “I was one of the joy-killers who didn’t even believe in Pinx,” the captain admitted. “But after the cloud in my mind these past few months… I’m afraid I have no choice but to believe in such… unordinary things.”

  Slye groaned as he sat up. “Guard… we have to ask—was there anyone else with the group that took over your station?”

  Joe and the captain locked eyes, a quiet revelation blooming between them.

  Down the road, hidden in the darkness, a man approached. Blū felt it before he saw it—his soul shivered. The darkness coming toward them was far more intense than anything they’d faced that night.