An evolved Rift Beast was one thing.
But this... this was something else entirely.
Kaz now faced a creature two full ranks above his own—a gap that might as well have been a chasm. He cursed under his breath, the sound lost to the wind.
There were only three factors that could tilt a fight like this in their favor. The first was skill—and between the two of them, only Lloyd had that in abundance, thanks to formal training drilled into him by his clan.
The second was intelligence, and Kaz… well, he liked to think he was sharp enough. Not brilliant. Not gifted. Just sharp enough to survive.
The third? Surprise.
And that was the one card Kaz still held.
Kaz stared at the airborne, demonic Silent Wing—wings tattered, body cracked, but still very much alive.
Spiteful thing.
Even at the brink of death, it had clawed its way back—fueled by hatred, or pride, or something fouler. A final insult to nature itself.
"You should've stayed down," Kaz thought bitterly. "But no… you had to spit in death's face and power up out of spite."
His eyes burned with a bright, unstable purple light. Chaos stirred.
"Why defy the natural order, you wretched thing? Why make this harder?"
And yet… a grim smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.
"You're making this chaotic.""Good.""I work well under chaos."
He broke into a sprint, heart hammering in his chest like war drums. Breath short. Cold air searing his lungs. Each exhale turned to smoke, curling behind him in a trail of heat and resolve.
As he ran, he shouted behind him—loud, sharp, urgent.
"Lloyd! Follow my lead!"
Lloyd didn't hesitate.
He surged forward behind Kaz, keeping pace as the demonic beast unleashed a blood-curdling screech. The sound split the air—waves of force rippling outward like shock pulses through water.
Kaz was dead center in the blast.
No time to think. Just react.
Before he could dodge, something flashed through the air—a charm, marked with an ancient Elven symbol. It burst open just ahead of him, forming a glowing barrier that caught the sound wave and held it… for barely a second.
It was enough.
Kaz's instincts kicked in. He dove sideways, rolling through the snow and came up swinging. Lonesome Star carved a downward arc—precise, vicious—but the beast's claw met it mid-strike. Steel rang out. The impact knocked the blade free, sending it spinning into the air.
The creature twisted, its torn mouth curling upward. A grin, maybe. Or something worse.
But Kaz was already moving.
With a thought, he called Lonesome Star back. The sword obeyed, slicing through the air like a returning predator. It caught the Silent Wing across the shoulder as it passed—just a scratch, but enough to draw blood.
Kaz was sent flying.
The Silent Wing's claw slammed into his guard mid-block, and the force hurled him backward—his body crashing into the canyon wall with a thud that echoed like thunder.
Pain flared, but not enough to break him.
He slumped against the cold stone, vision swimming… but still intact.
Through the blur, he spotted movement—fast, fluid, relentless.
Lloyd.
He was a blur of motion, all sharp angles and effortless grace. Whatever novice ability he'd awakened, Kaz could tell it was some form of body enhancement—his strikes were too precise, his footwork too clean. He moved like someone who'd spent years dancing with monsters.
His soul crystal might not have formed yet, but it didn't matter.
He was still a force of nature.
Lloyd's blade came up in a wide arc. The creature twisted to evade, wings folding, but the sword reversed mid-motion—cutting diagonally this time, aiming for the soft underbelly.
And Kaz?
He wasn't just sitting on the sidelines.
Though his body ached and the impact still rang through his bones, Kaz was far from out of the fight. His eyes glowed violet, breath shallow but steady.
With Chaos Control, he guided Lonesome Star remotely—puppet-stringing the blade through the air, intercepting every counterstrike aimed at Lloyd with uncanny timing.
Strike. Parry. Redirect. Glide. Cut.
Two novices. One flow. One rhythm.
And the Silent Wing was starting to fall behind.
The creature was losing patience.
Its movements turned erratic—jerky, wild. The endless flurry of attacks was wearing it down, but not enough. Not fast enough. And Kaz felt it—that sickening shift in the air. Something was about to snap.
Lloyd sensed it too, but too late.
The beast's jaws split open, revealing a red core pulsing with sound. A deep vibration built in its throat—a low, humming resonance that made Kaz's bones ache.
Then the world exploded.
A massive shockwave of red energy tore through the air. Lloyd leapt back, but the blast caught him mid-motion. His body went limp mid-flight, crashing to the ground like a broken doll. Unconscious. Silent.
The wave kept going.
Kaz braced—but it didn't help. The force slammed him back into the canyon wall, hard enough to crack stone. He tasted metal. Blood. His breath hitched, lungs screaming in protest.
And then came the worst part.
Silence.
The Silent Wing hovered above Lloyd's crumpled form, wings spread like a predator preparing the final strike.
Was this it?
Was this how it ended?
Two novices—broken, outmatched, and utterly alone.
Or at least… that's what Kaz thought.
Because then it hit—both he and the creature froze, reacting to the same thing at the exact same moment.
Aether.
Raw, oppressive, and so dense it made Kaz nauseous. Not because it was stronger—not in rank. In fact, it was the same level as them… but something about it was wrong. Vast. Suffocating. Like standing beneath a black sun and knowing it hadn't even begun to burn.
Kaz staggered, bile rising in his throat.
And then came a voice, light as a whisper on the cold wind.
"Hey, rival... don't piss me off. You really struggling with a mid-tier demon?"
The Silent Wing jerked its head toward the sound—but there was nothing there.
Kaz lifted his gaze.
Eyes met his. Predator's eyes.
Ryuma.
Hair white as snow, save for a blood-red streak that slashed through it like a wound. His gaze, usually an unnatural green, was shifting—mutating—until his irises burned crimson.
He stepped forward, casually, like a man out for a walk.
Then, gently, he reached down and touched Kaz's face.
Kaz flinched.
A faint glow passed through Ryuma's hand. Warm. Controlled. Aether, steady and slow.
Without a word, Ryuma turned his back on both of them.
The Silent Wing shrieked, another red wave charging in its throat—but Ryuma didn't even look. He moved ahead, slow and deliberate, sidestepping the incoming blast by a hair's breadth.
He reached Lloyd, knelt, and pressed a glowing hand to his back.
Calm. Unbothered. As if the world wasn't falling apart around them.
Kaz stared, stunned, a creeping unease clawing at his chest.
Of all the people who could've shown up…Ryuma was the very last he wanted.