The aftermath of the battle clung to the air—thick and unrelenting. The ground was soaked, water pooling around us in rippling mirrors of broken dawnlight. Jagged shards of morning reflected the chaos: the grotesque bodies of the Brood Warriors twisted unnaturally, their iridescent limbs splayed across the ruined street. A bitter, acidic stench hung in the damp air, rising from the Swarm Carrier''s collapsed remains. Its final hiss had splintered the quiet only moments before, splitting the morning like a curse.
I exhaled, feeling every ache in my body as exhaustion settled bone-deep. Relief tried to rise, bubbling with guilt, but I shoved it down. There was no time.
Elisa shattered the silence, her voice cutting through with a sharp, teasing edge that felt almost too *normal* for the scene. “I swear, Daisy, you’ve got the worst luck. Do I have to save your ass every time?”
The water splashed under Daisy’s boots as she stepped forward, her posture lazy but her glare sharp. “Save me? Elisa, I don’t remember you showing up when the hard part happened. Late as always.”
Elisa rolled her eyes in exaggerated flair, an almost comforting gesture that brought a strange warmth to the battlefield. With a huff, she ruffled Daisy’s damp hair, mock annoyance underscoring a bond that couldn’t be broken.
“You two always like this?” My voice came rough, each word rasping like sandpaper against my throat. I lowered my sword, the tingling from the earlier vibrations still whispering through my bones.
Before they could answer, Elisa spun toward me as if seeing me for the first time, her eyes lighting up like sparking wires. “Oh, wait wait! Hold on. You’re—you’re Rei! The Rei?” Her words tumbled fast, a storm barely contained. “Daisy talked about you. Sword-and-all? Didn’t believe her.” She leaned closer, squinting at my weapon like it was an ancient relic. “No kidding! Old school badassery. Respect.”
I blinked, thrown by her rapid orbit, the brightness of her presence almost disorienting after so much silence. “…Uh. Thanks?”
Elisa leaned back dramatically, her face twisting in exaggerated disgust. “You’re covered in guts. Ew. Daisy, you didn’t teach them to dodge?”
Daisy groaned, swiping muck off her arm as she shot Elisa a look. “You want me to remind you who missed half their hits?”
Behind them, Oliver lingered at the group’s edge, hunched slightly as if shrinking away from Elisa’s radiant storm. He fiddled with his foggy glasses, the movement steady and careful, his words almost too soft to hear. “We… uh. We barely managed. The signal disruptor—it wasn’t ready in time.”
“‘Wasn’t ready?’ Modesty, thy name is Oliver.” Elisa pivoted, pointing a mock-dramatic finger at him. “Genius saved the day again. Come on!”
The tips of Oliver’s ears flamed red as he stammered unintelligibly, but Elisa wasn’t cruel—her grin flashed too quickly for anyone to doubt the affection beneath the tease.
You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.
Before the banter could ease my tension, heavy footsteps pierced the calm—measured and deliberate against the water-soaked ground. Three figures approached through the shattered street: Zane led, flanked by Tessa and an unfamiliar, imposing man who stepped through the mist with unnerving purpose.
The stranger was tall, his silver hair streaked with darker shades that matched the smoke lingering above the battlefield. The remnants of fire curled faintly along the edges of his dark jacket, flaring before dying with the next breath of wind. His eyes, an unsettling yellow, swept the carnage with practiced detachment.
Zane smirked and shot me a lazy wave. “Looks like you’ve already met our storm of chaos.”
“Storm of chaos?” Elisa scoffed, elbowing Zane playfully as she grinned. “You’re just mad because you’re boring.”
“I could tell them about you getting stuck in goo last mission,” Zane retorted.
Elisa feigned shock. “Say that again, and I’ll drown you myself.”
The stranger chose that moment to speak, his voice cutting through their squabbling like a knife. “Enough.” Cold and unyielding, it silenced the group instantly. His sharp gaze slid to the twitching remains of the Swarm Carrier. “We still have unfinished business.”
Something prickled at the back of my neck—instinct flaring like a warning bell. The others remained unsettlingly calm.
“Don’t worry,” Zane muttered, holding up a hand as I tensed and gripped my sword. “He’s got it handled.”
The Swarm Carrier’s spined arm slashed forward with a sickening whoosh, spraying acid across the shattered asphalt. But the man—*the captain*—was faster. His movements were liquid, shadowed grace, each step impossibly precise as he ducked beneath the strike.
The creature’s scream gurgled, an ear-piercing shriek split between rage and death. Acid splattered—hissing, spitting—but he didn’t falter. He dodged each attack like the chaos was choreographed.
[Lynx Style Second Form—Blaze Strike.]
A burst of orange light snapped to life, flames curling up his arm, white-hot and volatile.
The fire exploded forward, his fist connecting with a crushing impact that sounded like thunder splitting the earth. Heat billowed outward in a torrent, shattering exoskeletal armor, flames consuming the Swarm Carrier’s massive form as if it were paper. The creature writhed once—twice—before collapsing, its screech swallowed by the roaring blaze.
Smoke choked the air. The sharp sting of ash swirled into my lungs as the heat began to fade, and the silence returned—thicker, heavier, the remains of the monster reduced to charred ruin.
“Holy—” I breathed but stopped myself, staring at the silver-haired man standing calmly amid the smoldering wreckage.
“Impressive, huh?” Zane’s voice broke through my stunned silence, softer now, the teasing edge tempered with something that sounded like reverence.
I turned, still struggling for words. “…Who is he?”
Zane gave a small smile, but something shadowed his expression, the corners turning down ever so slightly. “Our captain.”
My gaze snapped back to the stranger, watching as the embers of his flames died. Something about him—his presence, his precision—brought an understanding I didn’t yet want to accept.
Still, as they moved off without fanfare, following his lead, the weight of Zane’s words settled heavily on me.
Everything had just shifted—silently, yet completely.
And I had a sinking feeling that our battles were only beginning.
---
The Cyclops’ massive corpse sprawled grotesquely across the flooded ground, its claws frozen mid-swipe in its final, agonized pose. Dark blood pooled beneath it, slick and unnatural in the thin light. Fog clung stubbornly to the earth, masking the silence with an eerie thickness.
From the shadows emerged Asher. His lone eye glinted beneath his hood, sharp and intent as he stepped closer to the monster’s remains. Crouching, he ran a gloved hand over its lifeless claw. A scoff slipped from his lips, cynical and low. “Useless.”
“Don’t call your master toys names,” a voice called—sharp and mocking, piercing the gloom like a crack of thunder.
Asher’s head snapped up, his entire posture coiling tight like a drawn blade. Across the marsh stood Ace, wings half-unfurled, golden eyes gleaming like the sun splitting fog. Energy flickered faintly around him, rippling through the mist like heat haze.
“Still creeping in the dark, I see?” Ace taunted, though his tone carried a sharpened edge.
Asher responded in kind. Chains slithered from beneath his cloak like twin serpents—hissing threats, razor-edged. “Your mistake.”
The silence shattered.
Ace lunged, an explosion of motion and power.
Their clash ripped through the mist, shattering the silence with each impact.
The rift came too suddenly—too seamlessly. Asher stepped back, his smirk a twisted edge of satisfaction. “Next time,” he mocked, before slipping into the portal’s embrace.
Ace’s wings lowered. The quiet returned, though it was no longer empty. It felt heavier—fore
boding.
“Coward,” Ace whispered to the void.
But even the silence seemed to disagree.
[End of Chapter]
[Market district arc complete]