Silver was getting annoyed. Nil had finished his dinner and was now tapping his leg furiously.

  “Will you quiet down?” Silver asked, yawning.

  “Really, Silver?” Nil snapped. “What if these kids die?”

  Wow. Nil was really snapping at him—after all that relentless tapping?

  Their heads snapped toward the town—another surge of dark aura burst out.

  “I’m going!” Nil said, standing with his sword already in hand.

  Silver had thought Yig’s sudden awakening would be enough… but if Nil felt otherwise...

  “Don’t interrupt any fights,” Silver warned. “Only step in if you must.”

  Nil huffed in frustration and dashed off. He’d always been like that when Silver was training him—never satisfied with orders.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  Yig leapt from the rooftop, the old man still in his arms, just as Quinlou shaved the structure away. He jumped across two more roofs, searching for a place to safely drop his passenger. Landing on the road, he slid, trying to suppress his aura—but this sudden surge from the lady in his head made it far harder to contain.

  A projectile slash nearly severed Yig’s arm. He flipped through the air to dodge another, leaving shallow crevices in the pavement.

  “Slow down, Quinlou!” Yig shouted. “Let me put the old man down!”

  “You’re the Hero, Yig! That’s not my problem!”

  Quinlou charged. Yig raised Icarus with one hand, but the block was weak. He was tossed back, stray aura tearing into him as he rolled across the ground. The old man landed nearby, moaning from the impact against the stone.

  Yig quickly extended his aura, hoping to heal the man before it was too late. A pool of blood had already begun to spill.

  “You’ve gone too far!” Yig roared. “This isn’t strength!”

  “That’s not for the weak to decide.” Quinlou rested a blade on his shoulder, looming over Yig and the man, completely in control. “If he dies, he dies. And it’ll be on you. These people never asked for your help. And now this man is going to die—just like she did.”

  Yig’s aura was drained from healing… but at those words, what little remained boiled.

  “Tell me... will it still mean nothing if I kill you?”

  From behind Quinlou, shadow twisted into the form of a monstrous beast.

  “That threat will be the last thing you ever say!”

  The darkness lunged toward Yig, and Quinlou drew back both blades to strike.

  A vision flashed before Yig’s eyes—Mona’s cold stare as she lay on the ground. That same night, Yig had unleashed a surge of light unlike any before. And now—standing before Quinlou, with all the pain and fear he’d buried—he called it forth again. He raised his hand.

  Light surged through the street, rising from earth to sky in an instant. It was nothing compared to what he’d done before—but it was enough.

  Quinlou’s beast disintegrated on impact, its form collapsing until only a skeletal outline remained. At the same time, Quinlou staggered, blinded by the sudden, radiant burst.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  Yig, with far less mana left at his disposal, amplified Icuras back into its blazing yellow flames and struck Quinlou across the chest, carving a gash from side to side.

  The impact roared through the street, shaking the ground. Quinlou was flung backward, crashing across ten or so buildings, a trail of blood streaking behind him.

  Yig glanced behind him. Hopefully the old man's eardrums hadn’t burst from the blast. Then he jumped after his opponent—furious.

  ◇─◇──◇─◇

  “You!” the guard captain shouted, his voice rough and hoarse. “This was all your doing!”

  Blū watched as a tall figure emerged from the shadows. His head was oval, his skin pale. His eyes, void of emotion, still shimmered with an unsettling beauty in the evening light.

  “Liria,” the man said slowly. “Such anger is disappointing.”

  “He’s the head of this?” Blū asked.

  Liria nodded. “I remember now… this all started when he arrived. Ule!”

  Ule shook his head. “Silly man. I was here long before you ever knew me.”

  Blū tried to stand, his legs trembling under his weight.

  “Stop that, boy.” Ule raised a hand to motion Blū back. “We both know you have no mana left. None of you do. You’ve reached the end of your little rebellion.”

  “The courts will not stand for this!” Joe shouted, tears streaming. The pain had caught up to him—his adrenaline now drained. His arm, though partially healed, was clearly still in agony.

  “The boy is right,” Liria added. “Like us, they love this valley. There’s no room here for the likes of you!”

  Ule sighed, glancing at the night sky. “Tomorrow morning will be... messy, unfortunately. It'll take some work to steer my plan back on course.”

  In a surge of outrage, Liria limped toward him—only to stumble, caught just in time by Sil.

  “Give up, Liria,” Ule said, his voice low and uncaring. “This night... has reached its end.”

  Suddenly, someone crashed from the sky in a burst of rubble. The silver-haired man landed in a cloud of dust—not unconscious, but struggling to move.

  “Quinlou,” Ule snapped. “You lost to these people?”

  Quinlou didn’t answer. A deep wound crossed his chest, bleeding heavily. Mana worked slowly to mend it.

  Yig landed nearby, his aura lower than before—but still blindingly bright. He didn’t look right. Something was off.

  “Ah,” Ule murmured. “So it belongs to you, hm?”

  Yig stormed over and pressed a foot on Quinlou’s wound. The man groaned.

  “Why!?” Yig cried, tears streaming. His face and body language twisted erratically, as if his mind was failing to form words—trying desperately to say something, anything. But all he managed was: “Why!? I don’t understand. Just stop!”

  Quinlou stared back, hollow. “You’ll never be strong. You aren’t now, and you weren’t then—when it mattered most.”

  Yig raised his blade high, ready to strike.

  “Yig!” Blū shouted, his voice echoing through the street.

  Hesitation.

  Yig froze, sword still raised.

  “Look at me!”

  His head turned toward Blū, tears streaming down his cheeks. “Why is he doing this?” he whimpered.

  “I thought you were a Hero, right? Then show me!”

  Yig looked back at the man on the floor, removed his foot, and sheathed his sword. He walked toward his friends—then collapsed.

  Blū caught him before he hit the ground.

  “You’re right…” Yig murmured. “I’m sorry.”

  His aura had faded to a whisper. Whatever strength he’d carried was gone. Like the rest of them, Yig was out of the fight.

  Ule smiled.

  Above, owls circled.

  The Owlmen slid across the floor toward him. Flesh and feather twisted, contorted, and merged—until they became one.

  He rose twelve feet high. Feathers draped his arms, his fingers twisted into talons. His torso had stretched into a muscular frame, and a hooked beak jutted from his face. His glowing eyes bored into Blū’s soul. The power radiating from him dwarfed even Yig’s.

  And in that moment, before Blū stood despair itself.

  Nil dropped from above, the scruff around his mouth still stained with the remains of his last meal.

  “What!?” Ule snarled, his low voice rippling with terrifying power.

  Nil stared down the monstrous owl-man. “This is over.” He raised his hand. “Void.”

  A consuming darkness fell. The road, the buildings, the stars, the sky—everything vanished. Only Blū, his allies, Nil… and Ule remained.

  But Ule had changed.

  No feathers. No talons. No beak.

  Just the strange man he’d been moments before.

  Nil drew his blade.

  Ule screamed in fury.

  Blood flew.

  His body fell in two.

  The void vanished. Sparks drifted into the sky, and Blū looked up.

  Fireworks exploded in flurries of color. From beyond, the sound of cheering rolled over the city as the festival reached its end.

  And for him too, it seemed the night had finally ended.

  Yig, Sil, the Stearna—they lay nearby. Those still conscious let out weary sighs. Others stared on in dazed confusion.

  Ni stepped forward to check on them, leaving Ule’s broken body behind.