The wind howled through the dense woods as the group of Black Halo members pressed forward, a silent procession of shadows among the trees. Horses carried their supplies, and every eye was alert. Blake led beside Javier, Selene close behind him, and Mirai constantly checked the surroundings. Lora helped Julie walk, while Tonza brought up the rear with his massive axe slung across his back.
Then, the wind shifted.
A chill ran down Blake's spine."Wait," he whispered.
Everyone stopped.
From the tree line ahead, a figure stepped into view. Cloaked in a tattered black coat, with slick, wet hair and pale skin that almost glowed in the dusk light, stood Grimraith.
Mirai cursed under her breath. Javier's hand went to his weapon instantly. Tonza narrowed his eyes.
"That's one of the Black Verge," he growled.
"Who?" Blake asked.
"Bad news," Javier muttered.
The jagged mouth of the cave yawned open in the cliffside as the group finally arrived, gasping and bloodied. The cave provided cover and darkness, far from the road and watchful eyes. They laid Tonza and Julie down on rough blankets, the smell of burned flesh still lingering.
Tonza's breaths were ragged. His entire right shoulder was gone, eaten away by Grimraith's acid. His arm—barely attached by sinew and charred skin—hung useless at his side.
Julie lay motionless, her body convulsing every few seconds. Most of her left arm had been dissolved. Lora knelt beside her, hands glowing faintly, but the magic sputtered and failed.
"I'm sorry," she whispered, tears falling. "I can't stop it. It's not healing—it's like the acid is alive."
Blake paced nearby, fists clenched. His mind raced, sorting through what he'd learned under Malrek's guidance—and from Julie herself.
Then it hit him.
"The phoenix feather."He looked to Selene, then back to the others. "I can craft something. The acid's magic—it needs something just as potent to counter it."
Javier stepped forward. "What do you need?"
"Phoenix feather, a few drops of phoenix blood to bind the reaction... and Purple Water Lily. It only grows by fresh rivers or lakes."
Tonza lay pale, barely breathing. His massive frame was sunken, sweat beading on his forehead. Julie's skin was grey, her breathing slow.
"He's dying, Blake!" Selene shouted as they ran in.
Blake dropped to his knees and pulled out the ingredients. "Drayce! I need fire. Controlled."
Drayce snapped his fingers, summoning a small flickering black flame that hovered above his palm. Blake crushed the water lily, mixed it with phoenix feather strands, and a few drops of the phoenix blood into a vial. The concoction hissed and glowed.
Eventually, they concluded that it would be better to just cut off Tonza's damaged arm. Tonza agreed, and Javier cut it off, then Lora bandaged him. Tonza now had to live with only one arm, and so did Julie.
The others were asleep, scattered across bedrolls and furs near the flickering embers of a dying fire. Outside, the mountain winds howled like distant wolves. But within the cave, amidst shadows and silence, Blake moved.
His body was slick with sweat as he moved through a precise set of push-ups, veins visible beneath skin stretched tight over muscle. His back flexed with each motion, the moonlight from the cave's entrance catching the ridges of his form. He transitioned to pull-ups on a metal bar he'd driven into the rock ceiling himself.
A long, jagged scar slashed diagonally across his chest—ugly, deep, unforgettable. The mark Felix had left behind all those years ago when Blake was just a boy with a "dormant" core and no place in his father's world.
Behind him, a faint shuffle.
"You don't sleep much, do you?"
Blake paused mid-pull-up and turned his head.
Mirai stood near the wall, her body wrapped in a light cloak, hair tied up loosely. She looked at him with an unreadable expression, her gaze flicking briefly to the scar.
"Didn't mean to wake you," Blake said, dropping down lightly.
"You didn't." She walked closer. "But you're dripping sweat in the middle of the night. Thought we might have another ambush on our hands."
Blake smirked faintly, grabbing a towel to wipe his face. "Just... couldn't sleep."
Her eyes drifted again to the scar. "That looks like it hurt."
He glanced down at it, then at her. His voice was quiet. "It did. More than I expected. Not just physically."
She sat beside the wall, drawing her knees up, giving him space but also attention. "What happened?"
Blake exhaled through his nose, then sat down opposite her, letting the towel fall around his neck.
"When I was younger, since I couldn't use magic, everyone thought I was broken... especially my father." He paused. "Felix, one of his scientists, decided to try and 'awaken' me. I thought he was going to help. Instead, he cut me open. Wanted to 'force the core to activate.'" He tapped the scar. "But there was nothing to awaken. Just pain. And silence."
Mirai's brows furrowed. "That's... terrible."
"That was my life." He gave a bitter chuckle. "Still is, in some ways."
For a while, they sat in silence, just the occasional crackle of coal from the dying fire.
Mirai looked at him again—longer this time. "You've come a long way, Blake. I see the way you fight. The way you lead. You don't need magic to matter."
His eyes met hers. A small smile formed on his lips. "You always this sentimental at night?"
She rolled her eyes, though her expression softened. "Only when I'm sleep-deprived and talking to shirtless heroes with old wounds and even older grudges."
He laughed.
"Thanks, Mirai."
She stood slowly. "Get some sleep, White Hair. You're no good to us dead on your feet."
As she turned to go, she paused, glancing over her shoulder.
"That scar doesn't make you weak. It makes you real."
And then she disappeared into the darkness of the cave, leaving Blake alone with the echoes of her words.
The faint glow of morning seeped through the cave's mouth, painting the ragged group in pale light. Julie sat against the wall, her remaining arm wrapped around her knees, staring at the space where her right arm had been. Blake crouched beside her, offering a strip of dried herbs—his voice low, hesitant.
"You need to eat." She didn't look at him, just shook her head.
Nearby, Tonza lay propped up on a bedroll, his breathing shallow but steady. Javier dabbed a wet cloth against his friend's forehead, murmuring about old battles they'd survived. "Remember the siege at Veldros? We crawled out of worse." Tonza chuckled, then winced. "Yeah. But we had both arms back then."
Lora and Selene huddled by the embers of last night's fire. Lora's fingers—stained with faint golden light—hovered over Tonza's bandaged stump. Her Soulbrand, Divine Touch, could knit flesh, but not regrow what was lost.
Drayce and Mirai had left at first light to hunt.
"Two are quieter than six," Drayce had reasoned, hefting his bow.
A gust of wind screamed through the cavern as two figures slammed into the space. Grenda, a mountain of muscle and scars, dragged something behind her—a body, its limbs leaving a slick trail of blood across stone. She hurled it forward. It thudded, rolled, and came to rest at Blake's feet.
Drayce.
His chest was a ruin of claw marks, his face barely recognizable beneath the blood. Julie shrieked, scrambling back. Blake's world narrowed to the pulse in his throat. Javier was already moving, a dagger in each hand, his scarred lips peeled into a snarl.
Grenda grinned, cracking her knuckles.
Behind her, Scruffy—a wiry man with serrated knives—licked his blade clean. "We found your hunter. Poor kid didn't even see us coming."
Blake didn't think. He lunged, Javier at his side.
Grenda backhanded Blake into the wall. Bone cracked. He tasted copper, vision swimming as she loomed over him. "You're just meat," she growled, raising a fist—
Javier's dagger sank into her thigh.
She roared, pivoting, but Javier was already ducking under her swing, slashing at her hamstring. Blood fountained. Scruffy darted in, knives flashing—
Selene screamed as a blade grazed her arm.
Lora yanked her back, golden light flaring from her palms, but she couldn't heal and fight.
Blake stabbed upwards, burying his knife in Grenda's side. She howled, grabbing his wrist, crushing it. He bellowed, feeling bones grind, but held on, driving the blade deeper.
Then—
A portal ripped open behind Grenda.
Malrek stepped through. In his left hand, he held Grimraith's head, its dead eyes staring at his own men.
Grenda froze. "No…"
Scruffy backpedaled, knives shaking. "Black Wolf—"
Malrek moved.
He teleported behind Scruffy, a short sword appearing in his grip. The blade punctured through Scruffy's throat from behind, bursting out his Adam's apple in a wet spray. Malrek yanked sideways—decapitating him mid-scream.
Grenda charged, swinging a fist that could shatter stone—
Malrek vanished, reappearing above her. He dropped, driving both boots into her spine. Something snapped. She collapsed, but rolled, grabbing his ankle—
He teleported again, this time onto her back. A dagger plunged into her kidney, twisted. Grenda convulsed, but her fist slammed upwards, catching Malrek's ribs. A wet crunch.
He didn't flinch. Just wrenched the dagger free and stabbed her through the eye.
Silence.
Malrek stood, breathing steady, and kicked Grenda's corpse onto its back. He wiped his blade on her shirt, then severed her head, tossing it beside Scruffy's. A sack appeared from his cloak; he stuffed both inside and hurled it into a waiting portal.
The cave reeked of iron and voided bowels. Julie vomited. Tonza had dragged himself to Drayce's side, pressing fingers to his throat. "Alive," he rasped.
Malrek turned to the group. "We leave. Now." His voice was gravel wrapped in frost.
Blake staggered upright, cradling his shattered wrist. "Mirai—where's Mirai?"
Drayce coughed, blood bubbling on his lips. "Took her," he gasped. "The enemy… has a base… north."
Malrek's mask tilted. Then, without a word, he opened another portal. "Move. Or die here."
Lora's hands glowed over Drayce's wounds as the others gathered their scraps. Blake looked at Julie, her face ashen. He offered his good hand.
She took it.
Behind them, the cave swallowed the dead.