Onneas’ eyes flew wide, shimmering with wonder that bordered on devotion. She had believed Jared’s rapid growth would still leave him a step behind a Hall Lord. Yet the battle told a different story. Not only could he match Enaricus blow for blow; he had begun to push Enaricus back, inch by devastating inch.
“Jared, you’re incredible!” Onneas called, voice trembling with unfiltered awe. She crushed her fists together so tightly her knuckles blanched. A fierce thrill surged in her chest, and with it an affection for Jared that flared hotter, brighter, harder to disguise.
Percival and Esorin watched in sullen silence, faces dark as storm clouds. Their tidy plan, let Enaricus finish Jared, then turn on the Guardians of the Celestial Palace, was crumbling before their eyes.
“What windfall did this kid stumble upon to rise this fast?” Esorin narrowed his eyes, greed licking at his thoughts.
The raw sword intent spiraling around Jared was a banquet, and Esorin’s mind raced with visions of devouring that power for himself.
Percival bit down until his teeth threatened to crack. He had never tasted humiliation so bitter. As Jared’s blade sang through the air, Percival silently vowed that, given half a chance, he would kill the upstart with his own hands.
Panic spread among Enaricus’ attendants. They had marched to the Celestial Palace expecting easy spoils, now their commander staggered, blood on his lips, defeat looming. Uneasy whispers darted from one soldier to the next like startled sparrows.
“Jared is a monster! What if we’re next?” one guard murmured, voice shaking so badly the words barely held together.
“Had I known it could end like this, I’d never have followed the Hall Lord here. Now there’s no road out,” another answered, his despair almost a whimper.
Inside the dueling ground, Jared’s assault intensified, each strike sharper, faster, as though he were no longer bound by mortal tempo.
With a sudden burst of speed, Jared flashed forward, one heartbeat, he was fifteen paces away, the next, he stood directly before Enaricus.
The ethereal blade in his grip arced high, then hurled downward like judgment itself.
A colossal sword shadow erupted from the swing, roaring toward Enaricus with the fury of a collapsing sky.
Startled, the Hall Lord stumbled back, fingers weaving frantic sigils that flared into a shimmering shield. The sword shadow detonated against the barrier in a thunderclap of light and sound. The shield shattered instantly. The remnant edge tore across Enaricus’ shoulder, carving a deep crimson trench.
Blood spurted. Enaricus howled, knees buckling as hot pain staggered him and the watching world realized, perhaps for the first time, that the old order was truly breaking.
Jared let out a short, scorn-filled snort. “Is that really all you’ve got?”
In the same breath, Jared’s silhouette rippled and vanished. A heartbeat later, he materialized behind Enaricus, arm already extended, his will-forged blade flashing toward the man’s exposed spine.
A prickle of death crawled up Enaricus’ back, he hurled himself forward, roiling beneath the thrust. Yet the sword intent clung to him like maggots on bone, hissing after his retreat.
Jared whipped his wrist. The spectral edge swept low, aiming to sever both of his foe’s legs.
Enaricus kicked off the earth, vaulting skyward, barely clearing the murderous arc. Even so, a ribbon of crimson opened across his calf where the intent had grazed him.
Enaricus barked a guttural curse. “Damn you!”
Realizing he could no longer stay on the defensive, Enaricus steadied himself and drew a deep breath. Golden energy erupted from within, circling his frame until a pale aureate shell hovered around him, humming with raw force.
“Jared Chance,” he bellowed, voice vibrating through the ruined courtyard, “Don’t fool yourself into thinking this ends in your victory!”
He lunged, fist sheathed in liquid gold, the punch roaring through the air like a comet headed straight for Jared’s chest.
