(Salem POV)
⸻
I didn't hear her.
Didn't sense her.
Didn't feel a single shift in the air until her fingers were around my throat.
Cold. Impossibly cold — like they weren't made of flesh at all.
"I asked you a question," Kali whispered. "What do we have here?"
My body locked for half a second. Her grip wasn't just choking — it anchored. She was stopping the mana around me from moving, shaping, breathing. Not fully — but enough to sting. Enough to remind me I was facing someone way beyond my own rank.
Maybe even Rank 0. Altho it felt like an early stage.
She wasn't like Lincoln, he could get me to kneel down simple by letting his mana flow out. Hers felt a lot more evil though, like she could drain the life out of you at any second.
I didn't have time to be scared.
I dipped.
Shadow.
The keys slipped from her belt as my body melted through her fingers — falling to the ground with a metallic clink just outside Annabel's cage. I felt her mana twitch as they landed. She'd know. She'd grab them. If she was fast, she could—
Kali came with me.
She followed me into the shadows.
That shouldn't be possible. Unless.
Shes a shadow mage.
Like me.
But I felt it — her silhouette dragging alongside mine, corrupting the darkness I moved through. Like her very presence bled through dimensions.
Then—
A pulse.
A flash of motion.
Her boot caught me mid-phase.
I shot up from the ground with the force of it, torn from shadowform like ripped fabric. My back slammed trough a wall into stone, and I tumbled twice before rolling hard into black sand.
Outside.
The heat greeted me like a slap to the face.
I landed hard, braced, spun into a crouch, blade half-formed in my hand before I even had time to think.
She stepped out from the outpost like it was a goddamn ballroom.
Perfect. Poised. Unbothered.
The wind died around her.
And just like before, I felt it. Everyone felt it.
She didn't suppress her mana at all. She wanted to know i was outmatched
Every soldier within range — even the devils — were stumbling, clutching heads, failing to focus, failing to be. Her magic didn't let you exist at full strength. It turned you into a lesser version of yourself.
And that pressure?
It was digging into the place where my bond with Annabel lived. Warping the thread. I couldn't reach her anymore.
Not even in my head.
No sign of Rōko.
No advantage.
I licked the blood from my lip and stared her down across the charred dirt, cloak flaring behind me in the sulfur wind.
She tilted her head — that same serene grace, like she was walking through a garden and not stepping into a war.
"You're quick," she said. "And clever."
I didn't answer.
She smiled. "But not quick enough."
I growled low under my breath, the blade from my hand tightening into full shape. Shadow coiled down my wrist and into the hilt. My blood burned.
I didn't need to win this.
I just needed to survive long enough so she could get away.
Because if she touched Annabel—
No.
I wouldn't let that happen.
——
( Annabel POV)
A clink.
Metal on stone. Just outside the bars.
The keys.
My pulse jumped. I turned sharply, adrenaline flooding my limbs. "William," I hissed, nudging him hard with my heel. "Get them."
He groaned. "Wha—?"
"Keys. Move, idiot, or we die in here."
That got him. He scrambled across the cell on shaking hands, barely catching himself before slamming into the bars. I tracked the blurred shape of him fumbling in the dark. My sight was a blur of bleached mana and heavy shadow, a world halfway faded. Every outline was weak. Dim. Barely traceable.
I blinked hard.
Kali had followed Salem into the shadows.
That meant…
She's a shadow mage.
I swallowed hard.
She wasn't just powerful. She was calculated. And worse — I had no idea what else she was hiding. Even the guards downstairs had stopped their usual pacing. I could hear them. One of them whispered her name like it burned his tongue.
The cuffs groaned.
William had found the right key. There was a sharp click — then a snap, and the metal around my wrists cracked open.
It hit me like a landslide.
Mana rushed back into me like someone had ripped open a dam. My lungs seized. My head snapped back against the wall. The air bent, warped, spun, sang — and all at once, I could see again.
My version of sight anyway.
The dull haze of William's mana flared beside me like someone had dumped oil on a candle. The outlines of the hallway beyond the bars reformed — stronger now. Solid. Alive. My magic was back. Not all the way — but enough.
I tested my hearing to find out if Lycian was still around.
Nothing.
No flicker. No haze. No trace of him.
Gone.
Of course.
Not out of fear. Not hiding. Just not here.
Off collecting his prize for delivering me like cattle.
"Coward," I muttered.
Another pulse from below — more guards. Running. Coming closer.
I looked at the cell door. Still locked.
No time.
The heat in my chest snapped to attention. Mana surged to my hands before I could stop it — eager, feral, burning.
"Annabel, wai—" William started.
I didn't.
The cell door melted.
Bars liquefied like wax under the heat, dripping and folding with a groan of metal surrender.
I stepped through the glow — flames flickering off me like old friends returned. William stumbled after me, coughing on smoke and freedom.
We were both still unsteady. Still recovering.
But adrenaline would carry me.
It had to.
Boots. Shouting. The jagged rhythm of blades being drawn. Three guards, storming the corridor — outlines sharp and stupid with panic.
I raised a hand.
The fire answered like it had been waiting for me.