“Wait, Reesay,” I said, my voice catching. “Please… I don’t want us to fight him. I want to talk—”

She didn’t stop.

Typhoon shimmered over her skin, the air around her warping, tightening, like the world itself was bracing.

“We’ve had enough talk, I believe. I need that girl and I'll obtain her with blood on my hands if necessary.” the Butcher said, stepping forward, casual… almost bored.

“But please—”

“Young master.”

My chest tightened. “Reesay…”

She didn’t look back.

“You’ve done your part. Please… let me do mine.”

The air snapped.

In an instant, her plasma surged, dense, violent, then detonated outward. A concussive blast of compressed air ripped through the street as she launched forward. The shockwave slammed into me; I threw myself over the Dragonite girl, shielding her as wood splintered and debris tore loose from nearby houses. People screamed, scrambling for cover.

“No—REESAY!”

She was already on him.

A blur skimming the ground, faster than thought, Typhoon coiling around her arm.

“Tempest.”

Her right arm fused with the Eidolon, spiraling into a lance of compressed wind, dense, screaming, violent. She drove it straight toward his stomach.

Impact.

The world exploded.

A roaring detonation of wind tore through the village. Roof tiles ripped free, walls cracked, the ground itself groaned under the force. Dust and splinters swallowed everything—

—and then cleared just enough.

Reesay stood locked against him, her wind spear drilling forward, shrieking under the strain. It met resistance.

His Eidolon.

Two jagged, crimson blades formed its arm, crossed and braced against her strike, holding.

“Not bad… for a maid,” the Butcher said, voice calm, almost amused.

Reesay’s eyes didn’t waver. “You haven’t seen anything yet.”

Her left arm snapped forward.

“Air Shaft.”

The air compressed, then detonated.

A brutal, invisible force slammed into the Butcher, launching him backward. He tore across the ground, boots carving deep lines as he slid, debris scattering in his wake.

“Is that all—”

He stopped.

Reesay was gone.

A flicker, no, less than that—

She reappeared behind him, Tempest still roaring, driving the spear toward his back.

This time, it hit.

The wind lance tore through his shoulder, ripping flesh and cloth apart. Blood sprayed, dark against the dust-choked air.

For a moment—

Silence.

Then—

“Are you satisfied now?” he asked.

Reesay faltered, just for a fraction. “What?”

“Cut her up, Carnifex.”

The name hit me like a jolt.

Carnifex pulsed.

The crimson Eidolon twisted unnaturally, its blade-like head snapping sideways as its arms unraveled, elongating, warping, turning into flowing edges.

They moved.

Not swung.

Not slashed.

They simply appeared where Reesay had been.

She reacted instantly, leaping back, her body lifting into the air as the blades carved through empty space.

“Divide.”

The word fell—

—and the world split.

I felt it before I saw it. A distortion. Like a wave of plasma, thin but dense.

Reesay twisted midair, her instincts screaming. She shifted just enough—

A line passed through where her torso had been.

Silent.

Invisible.

A few strands of her hair drifted away.

Her uniform, cleanly cut.

The air hadn’t settled.

It couldn’t.

Carnifex moved again, no wind, no warning. The space around Reesay fractured into unseen lines, intersecting, closing in.

She reacted on instinct alone.

“Typhoon, Veil.”

The air around her condensed instantly, a rotating shell of pressure forming just as the cuts arrived.

They met.

For a split second, nothing happened—

Then the veil shrieked.

Thin lines carved into it, slicing layers of compressed air apart as if they were paper. The barrier held, but barely, its structure unraveling under invisible pressure.

Reesay dropped.

She slammed into the ground in a controlled fall, skidding back, boots digging in as she rebalanced. The veil shattered off her in fragments of dispersing wind.

Across from her, the Butcher rolled his shoulder once. Blood still dripped, but slower now.

“Fast,” he muttered. “You read it.”

Reesay didn’t answer.

Her breathing had changed.

Sharper.

Measured.

Typhoon tightened again, denser than before.

Behind me, the Dragonite girl shifted weakly in my arms. Her grip tightened slightly against my sleeve.

“…Do you see now,” she rasped.

I didn’t respond.

I couldn’t.

“Talking,” she continued, her voice faint but steady, “doesn’t stop blades.”

Another shockwave erupted as Reesay vanished again, this time not in a straight line. She curved, weaving through the battlefield, pressure shifting wildly with each step.

Carnifex reacted.

The ground split.

Not shattered, divided.

Clean, impossible lines carved through earth and stone, sections sliding apart like they’d never belonged together.

Reesay slipped between them, barely, her movements precise, controlled, but tighter now. Less room for error.

She closed in again.

“Tempest, Second Form.”

The wind around her spear compressed further, the rotation accelerating, the air screaming under the pressure. The weapon shrank slightly—but intensified, denser, sharper.

She struck—

The Butcher didn’t block.

He tilted.

The spear grazed him, tearing across his side, but in that same instant—

“Divide.”

Too close.

Too unexpected.

Reesay twisted—

Too late.

A line crossed her side.

Blood followed.

Not deep, but real.

She broke away instantly, retreating several meters, landing low, one hand braced against the ground.

For the first time—

She’d been hit.

My chest tightened.

That… that shouldn’t have—

“That’s the problem,” the Dragonite girl whispered.

I froze.

“You hesitate.”

Another explosion of air, Reesay surged forward again despite the wound, refusing to give ground.

The street collapsed under the force of her acceleration.

She didn’t charge straight this time.

She wove.

Left, right, vanish, reappear, each step bending the air, pressure snapping and folding around her like a storm barely contained. Typhoon screamed as it compressed tighter along her arm, the spear reforming—smaller, denser, sharper.

The Butcher didn’t move.

His head tilted.

Carnifex pulsed—

—and the space around him fractured.

“Divide.”

Lines appeared.

Not visible, felt.

Reesay twisted mid-dash, her body folding unnaturally as she slipped between them, the edges of her sleeve and hair slicing away into nothing. The ground behind her split into clean, geometric sections, sliding apart with eerie silence.

She broke through.

“Tempest—Drive.”

She thrust forward.

The spear didn’t explode this time, it pierced, a concentrated lance of pressure drilling straight into Carnifex’s guard. The impact hit like a cannon shot, forcing the Butcher back a step—

Then another.

The air cracked.

Reesay pushed harder.

The ground beneath them cratered as the pressure intensified, wind spiraling violently around the point of contact.

Carnifex warped.

One blade snapped aside—

The other slid through the spear.

Not blocked.

Not deflected.

Separated.

Reesay’s eyes widened—

Too late.

She dropped.

A horizontal cut passed where her neck had been.

She rolled, skidding across broken stone, immediately forcing distance as she came back up low, breath sharp, uneven.

Blood darkened her side.

The Butcher flexed his arm.

His shoulder, torn open from before, split further, flesh peeling where the wind pressure had shredded it. Blood ran freely now.

He didn’t seem to care.

“Adaptable,” he muttered.

Reesay exhaled slowly.

Typhoon shifted.

The air around her thickened, not explosive now, but heavy, oppressive, layered.

 

“Cyclone.”

 

The battlefield changed.

Wind didn’t burst outward, it rotated.

A low, constant spiral formed around her, dragging debris, dust, even loose fragments of wood into orbit. Pressure gradients warped the space around her, distorting movement, bending trajectories.

She stepped forward.

Everything followed.

The Butcher’s appron snapped violently like a sail, as the pull caught him, but he planted his foot, unmoving.

“Trying to control the field?” he said, almost amused.

Reesay didn’t answer.

She disappeared again.

Not forward—

Around.

The cyclone masked her completely, her presence dissolving into the rotating pressure. One second she was left, the next, above, the next, behind—

Carnifex reacted.

Blades unfolded in all directions.

“Divide.”

The cuts spread outward, wide, indiscriminate—

—but the cyclone caught them.

For a fraction of a second, the invisible lines bent—distorted by the shifting pressure—just enough—

Reesay emerged from within the storm.

Point-blank.

“Tempest, Pierce.”

She drove the spear straight into his chest.

This time—

It went through.

A violent burst of compressed air detonated from the exit point, shredding fabric, flesh, and stone behind him as the force blasted outward.

The Butcher’s body jerked.

Blood sprayed.

For a moment—

He hung there.

Impaled by pressure itself.

Then—

He smiled.

“…Good.”

Carnifex twisted.

Inside the wound.

Reesay’s eyes snapped wide—

The blade didn’t cut her.

It cut the space between them.

The spear—

split.

The pressure holding it together collapsed instantly, the structure severed at its core.

Reesay was forced back as the recoil exploded outward, the remnants of the attack detonating between them. She skidded across the ground, boots tearing grooves through shattered stone as she fought to stabilize.

The cyclone faltered—

Then reformed.

Weaker.

Her breathing hitched.

Across from her, the Butcher staggered—just once.

Blood poured down his torso now, his chest torn open where the attack had pierced through. One arm hung slightly lower, twitching.

Still—

He stood.

Still—

Carnifex pulsed, slower now, but no less lethal.

“You’re starting to get it,” he said quietly.

Reesay wiped blood from the corner of her mouth with the back of her hand.

“…I don’t need to ‘get’ anything from you.”

But her stance had changed.

Less aggressive.

More precise.

Adapting.

She stepped in again, but not recklessly this time.

Measured.

Testing.

A flicker, she vanished—

Reappeared at his flank—

A strike—

He turned—

“Divide.”

She ducked under it—

Countered—

A burst of air slammed into his ribs—

"I'M NOT LETTING YOU HARM THEM!" Reesay screamed.

He retaliated—

A cut grazed her shoulder—

She didn’t retreat—

Another strike—

Faster—

Closer—

More dangerous.

The fight tightened.

No wasted movement.

No hesitation.

Each exchange sharper than the last.

Each mistake punished instantly.

Wind screamed.

Space split.

The village around them tore itself apart piece by piece, unable to withstand the pressure of their clash.

And still—

Neither fell.

Reesay’s movements slowed, just slightly.

The wound at her side deepened, blood trailing with every step.

The cyclone thinned.

Across from her, the Butcher’s breathing grew heavier, uneven. Blood pooled beneath him now, dripping steadily from his chest and shoulder.

Carnifex flickered—

Just for a fraction of a second.

They both saw it.

They moved at the same time.

Reesay surged forward—

The Butcher stepped in—

The distance vanished—

One strike—

One cut—

One moment—

Where everything would be decided—

The girl's voice stepped in.

“You speak,” she continued, her voice trembling but firm, “while others fight for you.”

“That’s not—”

A sharp crack split the air.

Reesay appeared again, too direct this time, she can't avoid it.

“No—” I stepped forward and ran instinctively. “Wait—!”

I won't let her get hurt.

Just a second.

Just one.

Her movement shifted, just slightly, responding to my voice.

That was enough.

Carnifex moved.

Not toward her—

Toward me.

I felt it.

By survival instinct, Foresight screamed alive in my mind—

Pain exploded behind my eyes.

A line.

Through my chest.

I couldn’t breathe.

I vomitted blood.

“Left—!”

Reesay was already moving.

She abandoned her strike.

Turned.

Intercepted—

A flash—

A cut meant for me—

She took it.

Time snapped back.

Reesay staggered as she landed between us.

Blood spilled down her side.

Silence hit me harder than the shockwave, as I could barely see. 

My vision was trembling, the pain was unbearable.

I felt warmth inside my body.

Blood spilled out of every opening of my face.

“…Why?” she asked quietly.

She wasn't accusing me.

She wasn't angry.

Just—

Tired.

Behind her, the Butcher exhaled slowly.

“There it is,” he said.

My hands trembled, I tried to place Reesay on my lap.

"REESAY!"

"REESAY!"

"Reesay, I'm so sorry..."

My own blood dripped onto hers, while her entire front torso looked like a massive clawed beast just slashed her appart.

The kind of wound that meant to penetrate.

Just like a butcher's knife.

I couldn’t speak.

The Dragonite girl’s voice came, barely above a whisper:

“You… fool.”

Her voice was weak, but sharp enough to cut through everything.

I couldn’t answer.

My hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

Reesay’s blood soaked through them, hot, too hot, spilling faster than I could press it back. The wound across her torso was deep… too deep… I could see—

“No… no, no, no…” My voice broke. “Reesay—stay with me—please—”

Her body felt lighter than it should.

Too light.

Her breathing came shallow, uneven, each inhale trembling like it might not come back.

Behind us, slow… deliberate footsteps.

The Butcher.

I felt it before I saw him.

I turned, instinctively pulling her closer, shielding her with my body, useless, I knew, but I didn’t care.

He stood there, blood running down his chest, his arm hanging at an unnatural angle. Carnifex flickered behind him, unstable and flickering, but still there.

Still dangerous.

“…Pathetic,” he muttered.

My vision blurred.

“I told you—” My voice shook, cracking under the weight of it. “I told you we could—”

“Talk?” he finished.

A faint smile twisted across his face.

“You’re still talking.”

Something inside me twisted, tight, painful—

And broke.

Before I could respond—

A horn echoed in the distance.

Sharp. Commanding.

Another followed.

Then—

Movement.

Steel. Boots. Voices.

“—over there!”
“Secure the perimeter!”
“Don’t let him escape!”

The Butcher clicked his tongue, annoyed.

“…How inconvenient.”

More figures appeared at the edges of the street, armored, disciplined, forming a perimeter. The crest of the Hestia Kingdom caught the light through the dust.

Reinforcements.

He glanced at them, then back at me.

For a brief moment, his gaze lingered.

Not on Reesay.

On me.

“…You’ll learn,” he said quietly.

Carnifex pulsed once—

Then—

He was gone.

No grand escape.

No final clash.

Just—

Absence.

***

The world didn’t feel like it came back.

It just… kept moving without me.

“Rhys…”

I looked down.

Reesay’s hand twitched weakly against my sleeve.

“Don’t—” I swallowed hard, my voice barely holding together. “Don’t move, help is here, you’ll be fine, I just—just hold on, okay? Please—just—”

My words were falling apart.

Like everything else.

Her eyes found mine.

Still steady.

Still calm.

“…You’re safe,” she whispered.

The words didn’t make sense.

“I—what—no, you’re—Reesay, you’re the one who—”

“I’m glad,” she murmured, softer now. “I made it… in time.”

My chest tightened.

“No… you—this is my fault—if I hadn’t—if I just—”

Her fingers tightened, barely, but enough.

Stopping me.

“Don’t.”

A pause.

Her breathing hitched.

“…You tried… to protect everyone.”

The words hit harder than anything else.

Because I knew.

I knew that wasn’t true.

“I failed,” I whispered.

“No…”

Her gaze softened.

Not pity.

Not regret.

Just… belief.

“…You chose.”

I couldn’t breathe.

Behind us, voices grew louder, orders, movement, someone shouting for a medic, but it all felt distant, muffled, like it belonged to another world.

There was only her.

Only this moment.

 

“…My king.”

 

Everything stopped.

My heart—

My thoughts—

Time itself felt like it stuttered.

“…Don’t,” I said, my voice breaking completely now. “Don’t call me that, Reesay, please, I’m not—I couldn’t even—”

“You will be,” she whispered.

So certain.

So gentle.

“…someone… who protects.”

My vision blurred completely.

“I couldn’t even protect you…”

A faint smile.

“…you already did.”

A lie.

A kindness.

Something I didn’t deserve.

Her hand slipped slightly from my sleeve.

Her eyes fluttered—

“Reesay—!”

“…rest… a little…”

Her voice faded.

“…just… for a moment…”

And then—

Nothing.

Her body went still in my arms.

“REESAY!”

The scream tore out of me before I could stop it.

My hands pressed harder against the wound, desperate, useless, trying to force the blood back where it belonged—

“Someone—help! PLEASE—!”

Boots rushed toward us.

Voices.

Hands.

But I couldn’t let go.

I couldn’t—

Because if I did—

If I let go—

Then this would be real.

Beside me, the Dragonite girl watched in silence.

Her expression didn’t soften.

But it wasn’t cold anymore.

“…That is what your peace costs,” she said quietly.

She wasn't accusing me.

She wasn't being cruel.

Just—

True.

And for the first time—

I had no answer.