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Kline acted upon my call, bolting off to her. He was far weaker than before, having used his one and only trump card, but Sina was our family now—and we protected family.

As we approached, we saw the torok and a blast of blue flames.

"She’s still alive!" I cried as I summoned another hurricane arrow, preparing to unleash Nymbral’s true power if necessary.

Kline released a battle cry and flew forward. Sina was bleeding, but the torok was screaming in pain, too. Its arm fur was blanketed with blue flames, and it was slapping it on the dirt to put it out.

And it was then that I remembered that Sina wasn’t a third-evolution beast for nothing.

"You can do this!" I yelled as we flew into the area. "Light it on fire, and we’ll—"

The torok slapped the ground, and the ground under Sina rippled, preparing to explode like the trap spikes in video games.

Kline was faster. He blinked through a shadow, jumped forward with intense speed, bit Sina by the nape of her neck, and flew her over the earthquake in a summersault.

We all crashed onto the ground in unison, flying over poisonous ground cover and triggering fear in my mind. But to my amazement, I barely felt it. My skin was hard as steel, and adrenaline was flowing through me like cheap booze at a college party. I didn’t even need Moxle Dilation to slow the world and barely felt it when the spell broke. I just jumped to my feet as the torok finished extinguishing the flames on its arm. Then I stared off with it, studying the bone mask that hid all its emotions and intentions.

Pure… it suddenly said.

"Yeah…" I said. "Pure… but weak."

It laughed sharply and pointed at the dead torok.

Strong…

"Fuck me…" I groaned.

I mounted Kline, who turned toward the Bramble, staring at a particular shadow. Somehow, I understood what he was thinking in an instant, so I turned to Sina and then glanced at the Bramble, telling her to leave. She resisted, and I didn’t fight her—I let Kline communicate the plan.

While they conversed with their eyes, I turned to the torok and said, "Let’s do this. Best one wins."

Pure… strong… fight…

"Yeah, something like that," I said. "Let’s go."

Kline broke eye contact with Sina and rushed at the torok, who released a battle cry. They were two forces rushing at each other like enemy soldiers in the time of ancient Rome, but there was no collision. Before we got too close, Kline jumped, twisting one hundred and eighty degrees mid-air before melting through a shadow as he landed. We popped out fifty feet behind where we originally started, then broke for the Bramble, keeping pace with Sina, who had already started sprinting.

The torok roared and charged after us, slamming trees with its fists, furious that it got duped.

I readied another arrow and fired it, forcing it off course as we bounded through the trees, passing by dozens of screaming harvesters.

We crested a hill and could suddenly see the Mouth of the Bramble. Images of reuniting with my brother and feasting as we made insulting faces toward the toroks played out in my mind like a dream. We were almost there. It was so close—

—but so far away.

Three more torok flew at us from the clearing, flanking us on four sides like a diamond. The walls were closing in all around us and one torok stood in front of the Mouth like a goalie, with the goal being the grand ward protecting hundreds of watching Harvesters.

They were like animals, the harvesters, each hooping and hollering and screaming for blood or victory, uncertain each as to what would happen. But what they didn’t know was that they were all vulnerable—every last one.

But then, a series of rapid miracles happened.

I raised Nymbrel and searched for Tyler. With us so close, I could permanently blind him—and the thought haunted me. But I didn’t have to worry.

Brexton stood out front with a hand over Tyler’s shoulder. He waved; then, a bubble of shadows engulfed the two. That was my permission. So I charged Nymbrel to take out the goalie but found the walls closing in. My world was moving slowly, so I could see how things could play out. One shot would kill one—but, blind or not, the other two would catch up.

And that’s when the other miracle happened, or perhaps something that just surprised me. Aiden released a cry and charged, sending the lurvines spreading out to take out the other two. Six-third evolution beasts flew into the fray, spewing blue flames that lit the toroks ablaze.

This was my chance—my only chance.

I slowed time to a crawl as I charged up the bow, forcing out the image of a torok kicking one of the lurvine in a gruesome wave of blood, thinking about only survival and victory. Everything was riding on this, so I churned my core, filling the arrow with a seemingly limitless supply as the world tinted to a charcoal void like I was wearing welding goggles.

More black barriers like the one Hadrian used for trading popped up as if they got permission, and so I charged it past its limits.

Then I gave the order.

"Shut your eyes!" I screamed at the top of my lungs.

Kline and the lurvines all knew, so they followed my lead, sliding to a halt, shutting their eyes, and burrowing their face in the dirt. I then aimed the beam right at the middle torok and released it.

The flash was so blinding that the torok didn’t even dodge. It just covered its face in pain as the laser tore through its chest and crashed into the ward. It was so powerful that the grand ward cracked, fighting to reform itself as streaks of gold bent around it like I had just poured molten glass onto the edge.

This was the true power of an epic soul weapon—a weapon meant for fighting demigods—not mortals.

I wasn’t a fan. If it cracked the barrier, Tyler would be opened up to the torok’s fury—but it survived, repairing itself in real time once the beam calmed down.

The torok stood there for what felt like eternity, anchored to its feet, unfettered because the arrow didn’t have any knockback force whatsoever. Then, it dropped like a falling tree, forcing Kline to warp and jump to avoid the seismic attack.

Things were still after that, save the screams from the blind and wounded Toroks and harvesters who weren’t blocked by the barriers.

"Hurry back!" I screamed.

Kael barked, and Aiden screamed, "Let’s go!" with a strained voice, proof that closing his eyes and burying his face wasn’t enough. Yet he survived, and they flew back to the ward without issue.

We would make it.

Kline and Sina bounded forward, fanning out on either side of the Titans body as we went for victory. We were there. Fifty feet. Fourty. Twenty. Then, right before we cleared it, Jas flew out of the barrier.

My world stopped as I made eye contact with the Melhan I denied and sent away not an hour before. He had made it back, and there was fury in his eyes.

"No, wait!" I screamed.

Jas didn’t. He waved his hand, and a vicious gust of wind blasted us backward, sending us spinning backward before hitting a boulder at high speed and hearing sickening snap.

Adrenaline saved my mind, but when I tried to push myself up, jolts of searing pain pulsed through me.

"Wha…" I looked down, and I nearly threw up. My left leg had shattered from the impact, and it was jolting out at a traumatically unnatural angle. It must have hit the rock at just the right angle to fuck me up. My head was throbbing from Moxle Dilation breaking so abruptly, so it would crash once the adrenaline wore off, and that was just the start of the problems.

Kline was weak after using Warp Step and Silvern’s Triumph, and Sina was running blindly toward the barrier. We were alone, and the toroks, who were smashing the ground randomly and screeching, would eventually hit us. I had read that they had a bad sense of smell and everyone and everything was screaming, so they might have never known where I was—but they would eventually hit that ground, and rocks would fly into my neck like shrapnel, killing me in front of everyone.

All over some cowardly act.

I suppose that’s what Jas would say about me.

But come on.

What I just did was brilliant. It was one thing to kill your enemy, but stopping something that fucking cool from coming to fruition?

Fuck that guy.

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, wondering if Kalas would come to save me—and who would avenge me, if anyone, if I died.

Then I remembered that I could still see souls, and when I checked, I saw Kalas standing right next to Tyler, not doing a goddamn thing. As for avenging, the only one who could was Tyler, and he would need a lifetime of wealth to buy the stuff I snacked on. It wasn’t happening.

It was bullshit.

So bullshit.

Way too much bullshit.

It pissed me off, and when I looked around for Kline and found him in his shorthair cat form, tiny body broken and blistered with attacks, that pissed me off, too. Rage boiled up within me, so I forced myself to claw my nails in the dirt and pull, crying out from the pain but unwilling to give up as I crawled toward the barrier.

I would fight until the end. If Jas was a cowardly prick that decided to kill me once i got there, he would have to bear the shame of that.

I reached Kline and grabbed him by the scruff, and I continued on.

It was dreamlike being there, head throbbing, endorphins numbing, toroks blasting and buckling and bursting the ground, fighting for a simple chance of life—but it was truly something special.

I don’t mean that sarcastically—I’m being honest. Despite the pain and horror I felt, I was absolutely determined to survive, so the suffering subsided in a large wave, and I pressed on.

I would make it, god damn it. Even if everyone just watched me callously, they would have to come out and execute my ass before I gave in.

Hadrian watched Mira with a sense of admiration and respect. That attack of hers welded the weak harvester’s eyes shut, blinded the Middle Families’ members, and even left Hadrian with itchy eyes even after shielding them with a sensory deprivation barrier. The others Dante had been temporarily disabled despite maximum shielding, so the only people comfortable were the Claustra, who specialized in light and illusion magic.

They had managed to shield thirty random people, including Jas Melhan, and they all seemed fine, but that was it.

If Brexton hadn’t yelled, "Close your eyes!" and created a shadow barrier, they could’ve all been blind. He could only imagine how many people would be weak and defenseless after that attack—

—how many she could kill without contest.

And the blast… Just staring at the torok, chest blown out on the ground, was enough to make him shiver.

Power. This was true power—and it made his heart sing.

It was like a ballad of power and survival, and Mira was the heroine. She managed to survive at least four toroks with the help of her companions, and she only failed because Jas Melhan decided he was going to execute her for denying Kal healing in the forest.

Just the thought of it ruined his high and filled him with anger. He turned to the family members and found them all gazing upon her with dread-laced masks, eyes trembling with fear. Were Hadrian to ask these cretins how he should approach her, they would proclaim that he should chop off her head while she was weak and feed her brother to the dogs, ensuring that no future Hill could rise up against the legacies.

And yet—

Were they all so weak as to let a fledgling outdo them?

It was pathetic to watch these grown men and women cower like mangy animals in the face of raw power.

Hadrian turned to Jas, who was trembling in front of the barrier, looking around like a skittish mongrel, traumatized and beaten, praying that no one would call him a coward and demand his execution.

Unsurprisingly, everyone did, but no one would say it.

These people were not warriors like their parents and patrons; they were children and cowards who would not dare to question the Melhan, especially after seeing Kal, who was in a coma, and hearing Jas make extravagant claims about Mira, each becoming more unbelievable, baseless, and contradictory than the last.

Jas would get away with it—

—and Hadrian didn’t like that.

If Jas were to step out of that barrier, Hadrian would punish him for his cowardice and bear the consequences. But Jas wouldn’t. He was firmly planted on the ground, wanting to finish Mira off, but too smart to leave the barrier.

So Hadrian looked away and watched Mira crawl and cry out in agony.

Hadrian wouldn’t intervene. It seemed cold, but Kalas and the other legacies were doing the same. Tyler couldn’t understand. He was screaming and crying and begging people to help her, but they couldn’t.

No one would deprive Mira of her moment of glory; no victory or death would ever match what she just accomplished, and they—as strangers and not allies—refused to corrupt it by helping her.

Tyler couldn’t understand the legacies’ laws or customs or culture and perhaps never would. But that was his problem. This world wasn’t his; it belonged to Hadrian and all those beneath him, including Kalas and the people who also understood. They all abided by customs.

Save one.

Brexton glided past Hadrian like a phantom, so perfectly invisible that he didn’t even notice him until he was a foot away. Brexton stopped when he was discovered and put up his finger to shush Hadrian before walking behind Jas under the cloak of invisibility. For a moment, they just stood there as Jas looked back and forth nervously—

—then Brexton said, "Boo!" and the Melhan cried and stumbled out of the ward.

Hadrian smirked and walked out of the barrier.

Jas reached out his hand, asking for help up. Hadrian replied with a sneer.

"Oh…" Jas turned away in shame and tried to push himself up. But before he got halfway, Hadrian grabbed his skull.

"W-What are you doing?" Jas cried, realization dawning in his narrow-minded brain. "I’m a Melhan!"

"No," Hadrian said. "You’re a rogue coward that brought shame to your family—and disregarded our pacts over mere speculation and lies."

"W-Wait!" Jas screamed. Then, his face bubbled with tumors, turning bright red before exploding.

Mira stopped crawling and watched with trembling eyes—then, she carried on, dragging her broken leg over the ground.

Hadrian looked up and saw the toroks rushing around, slamming the ground behind her.

There was still a chance.