Kaz made his choice.
Leaving Lloyd behind had crossed his mind—it was a viable move, but not the optimal one. Sophie had warned him: if he didn't join them immediately, he'd break his leg. The message was clear, the stakes final. Someone would be joining them if he took this path. Logic narrowed the list to one. Lloyd was the only other soul Kaz had seen since he got here.
But why didn't Sophie want Lloyd to come along?
The question—and a dozen more—echoed in Kaz's mind like distant gunfire, relentless and unresolved. Still, he made his decision: he was going to help Lloyd. If it came to breaking a leg, so be it—better injured with backup than whole and alone. That settled it.
Kaz raised his hand, forming a circle with his fingers. Threads of light and smoke coiled into the space, twisting, fusing—first a hilt, then a guard, and finally, a double-edged blade. The pommel was wrought from black steel, cold and unforgiving. The hilt spiraled in tones of deep violet and shadowed black, like bruised nightfall. The guard gleamed with polished steel, a stark contrast to the blade itself—razor-sharp, honed to kill from either edge.
They called this sword Lonesome Star.
Kaz had earned it deep in the Scorching Isles, within a cave still echoing with the dying cries of the Rift Beast he'd slain. Now, Lonesome Star burned once more—cutting through the snow like fire through parchment—as he moved through the lonely, frozen canyon.
Mid-sprint, Kaz halted, boots skidding across the ice-crusted ground, a plume of white powder erupting in his wake. He called upon his novice ability—Chaos Control. Purple, mist-like flame coiled around Lonesome Star, humming with unstable, volatile energy. The blade rose from his grip, hovering in the air like a predator scenting blood. Then, with a rush like wind tearing through a dead forest, it shot forward—slicing across the snow-covered ground, a silent scream of steel and power.
The sword pierced the skull of one of the bat-like creatures circling Lloyd.
A melodious voice whispered into Kaz's ear, chilling his spine. Why did the curse have to sound like that—so beautiful, yet so deeply wrong?
Still, the voice spoke:
"You have killed a Silent Wing."
Another of the beasts turned toward its fallen kin—just in time for Lloyd's blade to cleave its head clean off. The severed body crumpled into the snow.
Only one remained.
The last Silent Wing hovered above the frost-bitten ground, its body etched with pride markings—evidence of the Sin of Pride that coursed through it. That sin made it stronger, faster, more arrogant. It believed itself superior. But two of its brethren now lay dead in the snow, and with them, its confidence had begun to fracture.
If they were going to strike, it had to be now.
Kaz sprinted toward Lloyd and came to a halt at his side. They didn't exchange words—there was no need. The cold bit into their bones, and the Silent Wing's glare said everything. This was war. Words would only get in the way.
A single snowflake fell, vanishing into the ground as if marking the start of the end.
Kaz had an idea. Reckless. Untested. Dangerous. But if it worked, it might tip the odds in their favor. This wasn't a battle on level ground. It was a climb—vertical, relentless, merciless.
The creature screeched, a sound like razors tearing through steel. The air erupted. Snow burst into the sky as a wave of sound and wind surged toward them.
Kaz dropped low, activating Chaos Control through his legs. Purple, unstable fire surged through his limbs, propelling him sideways in a blur of motion. The blast tore through the space where he had stood only a heartbeat before.
The Silent Wing turned to track him—its focus was broken.
An opening had appeared.
Lloyd raised his sword, aiming for the creature's head—but the Silent Wing's twisted claws intercepted the blow, screeching against steel. It was an ugly clash, a deadlock. But it was also a distraction.
Kaz had already set the real attack in motion.
While dodging the sonic blast, he'd hurled Lonesome Star into the air, the blade spinning in a deadly arc from behind the beast. Using Chaos Control, he reeled it back in like a boomerang, guiding its flight with raw, unstable energy.
But these evolved beasts were smarter now. The Silent Wing sensed the danger and shot upward just in time. The sword missed its neck—barely—and instead tore into one of its wings. The damage slowed it, unbalanced its flight, and exposed its rhythm.
Lloyd saw the opportunity.
For the first time, he activated his novice ability. His body surged with dark energy—his speed jumped, his eyes went black, and fangs pushed through both sides of his mouth. Without hesitation, he lunged at the creature, his blade flashing through the snow-lit air.
The Silent Wing twisted, just evading the strike. Had it not carried the Sin of Pride, granting it supernatural reflexes, it would have died then and there. But the dodge came at a steep price.
Lloyd's blade tore through its remaining wing.
With a shriek of pain and fury, the Silent Wing plummeted, slamming into the frozen earth. Snow and ice scattered on impact, and the beast writhed in the crater it had carved.
Lloyd approached, silent and cold, sword in hand.
He was going to finish it.
But then the bat-like creature did something peculiar—it began to eat itself, tearing at the pieces of its damaged wings with savage desperation.
Kaz glanced back and saw only a blur of movement. It was Lloyd, taking a step back. Kaz followed.
Suddenly, massive red energy surged through the cold canyon, crackling and pulsing like a living flame.
Kaz's face darkened, dread creeping in. Did the creature just grow stronger?
He asked Lloyd in a low voice, barely masking his fear.
Lloyd nodded grimly.
"If the Silent Wing had the strength of a demonic beast before, as an evolved, it's now reached demonic rank—with the power of a devil."