Crysorgo didn't even care about the blonde guy for a second. He just lunged forward and pulled Sissy into a hug so tight it nearly popped her ribs.

  He was shaking, actually crying.

  Even Koro stood there with his jaw open.

  "Sissy? You're... how are you standing here?"

  Sissy pulled back, wiping her eyes and pointing toward the path where they had come from.

  "The Manul. He saved me."

  "Lemony!?" Koro shouted. He looked like he'd been hit by a truck.

  "That grumpy little lemon-cat? You're kidding me."

  "No time for that now," Sissy said, her voice turning sharp. She pointed at Lancelot, who was looking more annoyed by the second.

  "Focus. And I don't know who the cat with the gun is, but Fiji---the big guy---is the only reason we aren't all dead right now."

  Crysorgo looked at the Gunslinger, then at the massive, mossy mountain that was Fiji.

  He didn't know what kind of miracle he was looking at, but he knew he wasn't going to waste it.

  Lancelot stood in the center of the snowy field, his blonde hair whipping around his face. He looked at them, at a giant four-eyed beast, a grizzled old man, a winged girl, and a scarred cat with a gun.

  Why aren't they broken? Lancelot thought, his mind racing through the absurdity of the situation.

  They are supposed to be chaff. They are the refuse of the world, discarded in this frozen sepulcher. Why do they stand with the posture of kings?

  He reached up to his chest and grabbed one of the ornate medals pinned to his majestic uniform. He ripped it off.

  BAM!

  A sudden, violent explosion of yellow energy erupted from the medal, swirling around Lancelot until he looked like he was standing inside a small sun.

  The air literally began to hum with power.

  The magnificence of his aura was now so heavy it was pushing the snow away in a perfect circle.

  "You have forced my hand to reveal a fraction of my true splendor!" Lancelot shouted.

  "Now, witness the end of your pathetic rebellion!"

  He moved.

  He didn't just teleport. He became a golden streak of light.

  He hit Koro first. The big guy tried to throw a punch, but Lancelot was already behind him, kicking the back of Koro's knee and driving a palm strike into his spine. Koro went down hard, sliding through the ice.

  The Gunslinger opened fire...

  Bang!

  Bang!

  Bang!

  ...but Lancelot moved like water.

  He twisted his body mid-air, the bullets grazing his golden energy shield, and then he flickered right in front of the cat. He grabbed the barrel of the revolver and twisted it, forcing the Gunslinger to drop the gun before slamming a glowing elbow into the cat's ribs.

  Sissy lunged in, her hair whipping out like white tentacles. Lancelot didn't even look at her. He spun his silver rapier in a perfect circle, cutting through the hair like it was silk.

  He grabbed a handful of the white locks and yanked her forward, sending a knee into her stomach that sent her flying back toward the rib-structures.

  "Is this the pinnacle of your resistance?" Lancelot mocked.

  Fiji roared, a sound that shook the very foundation of the mountain, and tried to smash the Commander with a massive stone fist.

  Lancelot teleported onto the giant's arm, running up it like a golden spark. He reached Fiji's shoulder and drove his glowing fist into the moss.

  The yellow energy exploded on impact, sending cracks through Fiji's stone skin. The giant stumbled back, groaning in pain.

  It was a total slaughter.

  Even with the healing, Lancelot was just too fast. He was a Rank 3 for a reason. He was a blur of gold and silver, hitting them from every angle.

  He kicked Koro into a stone pillar, then appeared above the Gunslinger to stomp him into the dirt, all while parrying Sissy's desperate aerial strikes with one hand.

  He was literally dancing through them.

  His movements were so smooth they looked choreographed, like a play where he was the only star and everyone else was just an extra meant to die.

  "Your persistence is commendable, yet entirely superfluous!"

  He stood in the center of them again, his rapier glowing with that intense yellow light.

  Koro was struggling to get up, the Gunslinger was reaching for a backup knife, and Sissy was coughing up snow. Crysorgo just watched from the side with his heart sinking by the second.

  He's too strong, the old man thought. We somehow need a miracle.

  The Gunslinger was coughing up blood, his knees shaking as he tried to find his footing in the red snow. He reached up toward a small, dull medal pinned to the inside of his coat. His fingers brushed the cold metal, and for a second, it looked like he was actually going to rip it off and unleash something ugly.

  Not yet, he thought, his teeth gritted so hard they might break. If I use it now, I'm just as bad as that blonde peacock.

  He pulled his hand away and just kept shooting.

  Bang!

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  Bang!

  Bang!

  The bullets were tracers of desperation, but Lancelot didn't even look stressed. He moved like a ghost, his body flickering through the air until he was standing right in front of the cat.

  Lancelot leaned in, his voice a cold, majestic whisper.

  "You are a relic of a dying era. A peripatetic fool chasing a shadow. Lie down and stay there."

  He didn't even use his sword. He just tapped the Gunslinger's forehead with a glowing finger, and a pulse of yellow energy sent the cat crashing back into the snow.

  He didn't get up this time.

  "Now then," Lancelot said, smoothing his hair.

  "I believe the celebration is in order. The rebellion is—"

  "Not... done," a voice rumbled.

  It was Fiji.

  The giant Mossback was pushing himself up, the rocks of his body grinding together like a tectonic plate. He looked at Sissy, and for the first time, his deep eyes looked sharp.

  "Sissy... hide. Fiji show why mountain stay still."

  Sissy's heart hammered.

  "Fiji, don't! You're already cracked!"

  But the giant didn't listen. He roared, and the ground didn't just shake... it literally folded!

  Round two started with a deafening CRACK.

  Lancelot tried to teleport, but Fiji slammed both hands into the snow, and a massive wall of roots and stone erupted instantly, catching the Commander mid-jump.

  Lancelot had to slash his way out, his rapier glowing like a lightsaber. He flickered to the left, but Fiji was already there, his massive arm swinging like a wrecking ball.

  Lancelot barely dodged, the wind from the punch literally knocking the breath out of his lungs.

  "You oversized pile of detritus!" Lancelot screamed.

  He lunged forward, his blade becoming a blur of a thousand stabs. He was hitting Fiji's chest, his legs, his face. Rock chips were flying everywhere. But Fiji didn't flinch.

  Every time Lancelot landed a hit, the moss on Fiji's body grew faster, tangling the Commander's feet.

  Lancelot would teleport high, aiming for the eyes, but Fiji would grow a pillar of stone to meet him halfway.

  They were locked in a cycle of teleportation and terraforming. Lancelot was faster, but Fiji owned the ground they stood on.

  The Commander was getting frustrated. His majestic face was red, and he was sweating.

  He teleported behind Fiji's neck and drove his glowing blade deep into a gap in the stone skin. Fiji let out a groan that sounded like a landslide.

  In a desperate move, Fiji didn't try to shake him off. He let his own body crumble.

  He collapsed into a pile of heavy boulders, trapping Lancelot's legs under tons of mossy rock.

  "I have you!" Fiji rumbled from the pile.

  Lancelot looked genuinely terrified for a second. The weight was crushing his Equine-kin legs.

  He screamed, his yellow aura flaring to its absolute limit. He channeled every bit of energy into his rapier and drove it into the earth, causing a massive explosion of light that shattered the boulders holding him.

  Lancelot tumbled out, his majestic uniform in tatters and his breathing ragged.

  He stood over the broken pile of rocks that was Fiji, his sword shaking. He had won, but only by a hair. He looked like he had just fought a literal mountain and barely lived to tell the story.

  "That thing..." Lancelot panted, his eyes wide with a mix of hate and fear. "That thing was terrifying."

  He looked at Sissy, Koro, and Crysorgo. He raised his sword, his face twisting into a mask of pure rage.

  "No more games! You all perish now!"

  Sissy looked around at the broken bodies of her friends. Fiji was a pile of cracked stones, Koro was barely breathing, and the cat was face-down in the red slush. Her heart was hammering so hard it actually hurt.

  After everything we did... after surviving the fall and the fires... it's just going to end like this? she thought. No. Lemony is still out there. He has to be.

  Lancelot wiped a smudge of dirt from his cheek, though his regal clothes were already ruined. He raised his rapier, the yellow light of his medal still humming with a sickening vibrancy.

  "The curtain falls upon this theater of the absurd," Lancelot declared, his voice regaining its arrogant edge.

  "Your petty insurrection has reached its inevitable conclusion. Without a savior to intervene in this catastrophic sequence of events, I shall declare this rebellion..."

  He paused, a cruel smile stretching across his face.

  "Over."

  Sissy felt a cold shiver go down her spine. Crysorgo stepped in front of the kids, his hands shaking, his old eyes filled with a desperate worry. Lancelot began to pace, his boots crunching on the ice.

  "Who shall be the first to receive my blade?" Lancelot mused.

  "Perhaps the old man? Or maybe I should start with the children. Their screams might provide a more melodic accompaniment to the wind."

  "No way!" Sissy screamed.

  She didn't think. She just flew.

  She launched herself at the commander, her fist pulled back for a punch, but Lancelot didn't even flicker. He simply reached out and caught her wrist mid-air.

  The strength in his grip was like an iron vice.

  "Such tenacity," he whispered, leaning in close.

  "Perhaps the nobles in the capital would find a use for a specimen such as you. You'd fetch a fine price in the silver cages."

  Sissy's vision went red.

  She wasn't just scared anymore; she was pure, unadulterated livid.

  "Don't you touch me!"

  BAM!

  Her long white hair lashed out like a whip, slapping Lancelot across his perfect, majestic face.

  The sound was like a gunshot.

  Lancelot's head snapped to the side. For a second, there was total silence. Then, he slowly turned back, his eyes burning with a dark, petty rage. "You... you insolent brat."

  He didn't just let go. He just threw her.

  Sissy hit the ground and skidded toward a rib-bone, her breath leaving her in a painful wheeze. Lancelot started walking toward her, his blade pointed down.

  Am I actually going to die now? Sissy thought, her vision blurring as tears mixed with the snow. I never even got to say goodbye.

  "Lemony..."

  "Lemony... please."

  She looked at the dark mountain peaks.

  "LEMONY!"

  Lancelot raised his blade high, ready to drive it through her heart. "No one is coming, girl."

  But then, the ground didn't just shake. It groaned. A shadow began to stretch across the snow, a shadow so massive it literally blotted out the light of the fires.

  Koro looked up, his four eyes widening in total shock. Crysorgo gasped, his hands falling to his sides.

  "No... it's impossible. He only moves when the sun is gone! Why is he here!?"

  Lancelot froze.

  He turned his head slowly, and his majestic face went completely white. Standing on the mountain ridge was a creature of nightmares...

  Malphas!

  The ancient beast stood tall, his stone-grey skin blending with the rocks, his presence casting a Fear Aura so thick it made the air feel like lead.

  Lancelot's heart nearly stopped.

  I can't fight that. I'm a Rank 3, but that... that is a god. He immediately thought of running, his legs tensing to teleport away.

  "Hey, noble... you aren't going anywhere."

  Everyone looked up. There, sitting in the massive, palm-sized hands of Malphas, were three figures.

  Ve, the Skoll-Wolf, Pippin, the Pygmy-Jera, and in the center, his red coat flapping in the freezing wind, was the pale-mantle Manul.

  Lemony looked down at the wreckage of his friends and his home. His eyes were glowing with a promise of absolute violence.

  "You've had your fun," Lemony said, his voice echoing off the bone-walls.

  "Now it's our turn."