Jared looked at Zevon, who was standing before him, the emotions in his eyes a mixture of gratitude and surprise. Jared pushed to his feet, still shaky but alive, and clasped Zevon’s hand.
“If you hadn’t appeared when you did,” he said, voice thick with gratitude, “Sylvia and I would already be corpses on this ground.”
Sylvia forced herself upright and offered a respectful bow. “Your timing saved our lives, Mr. Swanson. Thank you…”
Zevon smiled and waved the courtesy aside. “No thanks are necessary. You once freed me from endless servitude. Repaying that debt is the least I can do. Besides, I swore to follow you for three centuries. During that span, I am, if you’ll permit the term, your servant.”
Jared shook his head hard. “Don’t speak of servitude. I could never view you that way.”
In truth, Jared knew Zevon’s strength easily eclipsed Winston’s. On this battlefield, Zevon was their only real hope.
While the two men exchanged quiet words, Winston stood forgotten. Rage bubbled up inside him, volcanic, uncontrollable. He was among the upper echelons of Malevolent Path Hall. As high and mighty as he was, to be ignored was unthinkable.
He roared, “Do you imagine I’m invisible?!”
Black light burst from his body, flickering like lightning trapped in storm clouds. The very air warped around him, whining under the strain of his fury.
Only then did Zevon turn. His eyes were clear, almost kind, yet his words cut like frost. “Behave, and you might survive a little longer.”
Winston trembled with rage. He flashed a series of hand seals, chanting razor-sharp syllables. A tidal wave of obsidian energy roared outward, ripping the earth, hurling boulders, and scouring the courtyard in a storm of flying debris.
Zevon’s expression never changed. He lifted one palm, and a gentle, luminous current spiraled forth. The two powers slammed together, night against dawn, then froze in place, the collision bending light and sound into a single trembling heartbeat.
Boom!
The air exploded with a deafening boom.
The blinding, gold-tinted shock wave vanished almost as soon as it appeared, yet Zevon’s own spiritual force, fluid and merciless, knifed forward in a single, unstoppable beam toward Winston.
Winston’s expression faltered. He felt every muscle seize. He wanted to dodge, but some invisible grip seemed to tighten around his limbs, pinning him in place as though the very space around him had turned to stone.
Bam!
A second, bone-shaking crack split the silence.
The blast slammed into Winston’s chest. He rocketed backward like a severed kite, crashed against the earth, and coughed up a bright sheet of blood that splattered across the crushed gravel.
Reeling, Winston clawed to his feet. Fear widened his eyes until the whites shone stark against the blood on his lips.
“W-Who are you?” he rasped, voice trembling. “How can anyone wield power this monstrous?”
Zevon fixed him with a stare as cold as winter iron.
“I am nothing more than Mr. Chance’s servant,” he said, each measured word cutting like a knife. “You raised your hand against my master. You will not leave here alive.”
A shiver slid down Winston’s spine. “Then… You’re the hidden expert shielding Jared?”
Zevon’s head moved in a slow, almost pitying shake. “I already told you. I’m only his servant. The true force behind Mr. Chance stands far higher than I could ever reach.”
Memory flashed through Zevon’s mind.
At that time, at Celestial Stairway, the golden immortal was utterly frightened by the expert backing Jared, and that was why they had gone easy on Jared.
Whoever backed Jared dwarfed even that golden immortal’s power. Zevon knew his own limits. He would never presume to claim that throne.
Winston’s gaze darted over Zevon’s unyielding frame. One truth struck him hard. Fight on, and he would die. He spun and bolted. A streak of dark light tore across the plain, and in a heartbeat, he was nothing but a shrinking shadow on the horizon.
Seeing their lord flee, the elders of Malevolent Path Hall went pale. Panic overtook reason, and they scattered after Winston like startled birds.
Jared turned to Zevon, urgency tightening his voice. “We can’t let them get away! They’ve harmed too many. If they escape today, they’ll only come back worse!”
Zevon offered a single, sure nod. “Rest easy, Mr. Chance. They have nowhere to run…”
The moment the words left his mouth, his silhouette blurred, and then was simply gone.
