"Dear... offerings."
The figure emerged through the gray smoke and crackling fire—visible now, solid.
Heat licked across my skin, dry and suffocating, while flames hissed and spat as beams above groaned under their weight.
Ash drifted lazily through the air like dying snow.
The air changed the moment he stepped forward—thicker and heavier, like the building itself was holding its breath.
"Carlos! Long time no see."
His voice rang too loud in the enclosed space, bouncing off shattered stone and fractured pillars.
Too bright and cheerful...
I turned toward Carlos.
He didn't look at the man. Not once. His eyes stayed fixed on the ground.
His grip tightened around the mace. His hand trembled—just once—then stilled.
He knows him.
White hair. White suit. Untouched by soot or blood.
The fabric caught the flickering firelight—Velindor velvet stitched with gold thread that shimmered with every subtle movement.
Royal lineage, maybe.
But royalty didn't join cults...
Nor lead them...
The smell hit me then—not just smoke and blood anymore, but something sharper.
Cologne.
Citrus and sandalwood.
It cut through the stench of burning wood and charred flesh, wrong in every possible way. It didn't belong here.
How did all these cult members get inside?
Carlos spat. "Velindor."
He adjusted his cuff. "Oh—please. We're beyond titles."
Carlos's voice came out rough, scraped raw.
"Lloyd..."
A confirmation. Like he was reminding himself the nightmare was real.
The man smiled. "Oh! You do remember!"
He spread his arms wide, fabric whispering as it shifted, palms open like he was greeting an audience. Embers drifted past him, glowing briefly before fading into ash.
I froze. The crackle of fire grew louder in the silence that followed.
"This a real place in the world—that's how they entered."
He read my thoughts.
My heartbeat slammed in my ears—loud, uneven—drowning everything else as a cold prickle crawled up the back of my neck.
That's not possible—
Lloyd pulled off his gloves slowly, the fabric sliding against his skin with a soft rasp before tossing them aside. They hit the stone with two dull thuds.
The moment I pulled my mana inward, a sharp pressure stabbed behind my eyes—a sudden, piercing throb, like something forcing its way inside.
Shit.
It wasn't hiding me.
It was opening me.
My breath hitched, the air dry and scraping down my throat like sand. I swallowed hard.
Was Layla reading my thoughts too...?
"Why?" My voice came out raw, thin against the roar of fire. "Why are you doing this? Killing innocents—for nothing?"
"Nothing?"
A beam above creaked, splinters raining down in a soft patter as fire hissed somewhere deeper within the building. Then a short laugh burst from his chest—sharp, almost genuine.
"Don't tell me..." He grinned. "You really are naive."
He charged.
The ground cracked under the force of his step as the distance collapsed instantly—one moment ten paces away, the next his silhouette filled my vision.
Wind slammed into me, hot and violent. Dust burst upward, stinging my eyes, as the building shuddered, stone grinding with a deep, echoing groan.
I saw something in Carlos's eyes then.
Pain.
Raw and old, buried so deep it felt wrong to see it surface.
He threw his mace.
The weapon tore through the air with a heavy, whistling roar. Lloyd jumped over.
I dodged as air shifted violently past me, his fingers brushing my collar—light, almost gentle.
Barely.
Warmth spread across my cheek. I touched my face—wet, sticky, red. The droplets fell to the stone with soft, hollow taps.
Not my face.
My arm.
A cut I didn't even feel.
He could have taken my head.
Lloyd landed softly behind me, boots barely making a sound against the cracked floor.
He didn't turn or rush, just stood there, the faint rustle of fabric and quiet scrape of nail against nail cutting through the fire.
"You're slower than I expected..." he said, dragging his words.
My arm throbbed—deep, pulsing pain spreading with each heartbeat as blood soaked into the fabric, warm and slick against my skin.
No mana left to heal—only enough to slow it.
The chains around my wrists pulsed. A faint hum vibrated through them, low and constant, like something breathing beneath the surface.
Running was my best option.
But Carlos—
That idiot wouldn't run.
"Why go for the child? Come at ME!"
Carlos lunged, his mace carving through the air in a brutal arc, the force behind it splitting the air with a tearing sound.
"Oh, I love fighting soldiers. Good fodder."
Lloyd moved effortlessly, fluidly, each step light and precise, barely touching the ground.
Metal cut through empty space again and again. Three, four—five swings. Each one missed, the air roaring with the force behind them.
Carlos's breathing grew ragged, sharp exhales cutting through the noise as sweat dripped from his jaw in uneven taps.
THUMP
Lloyd caught the mace mid-swing. Not the handle—the head.
His fingers wrapped around the steel spikes without hesitation. Carlos pulled. The metal groaned—a deep, strained sound—as Lloyd's grip tightened.
CRACK
The sound split the air.
The mace shattered.
Carlos stared—his hands trembling, as the broken handle slipped from his fingers and clattered to the ground.
"We should run."
"You know I won't."
"Right..."
I sighed.
The chains tightened, their glow intensifying, light flickering like a heartbeat as heat spread across my wrists and seeped into my skin.
I swung.
The chain sliced through the air with a low hum, leaving a faint golden trail. Lloyd tilted his head slightly—it missed by inches.
I struck again, faster this time. The chain whistled toward his ribs, but he stepped back—one precise step, exactly enough.
Third strike.
I spun, the chain arcing overhead before crashing down—
Lloyd raised a single finger.
The chain wrapped around it and stopped.
The vibration died instantly.
Silence.
"A weapon that surpasses time..."
His voice softened, almost curious, as his finger rested lightly against the chain.
"Fascinating."
His eyes lifted—cold, empty, smiling.
"But what good is a weapon..."
Fire cracked loudly behind him.
"If its wielder is dead?"
He pulled.
The chain snapped tight as force tore through my arms.
Stone rushing up, air ripping past my ears, the scent of citrus burning through everything.
"Not... now."
I yanked the chains. Lloyd stumbled forward—off balance for the first time.
BAAM
My fist drove into his chest.
"Ugh, you ruined my tie." He staggered back, dusting off his lapel despite the chaos around him.