“No matter,” Stebarin muttered, his tone as calm as mist on a pond. “Plenty of harvests await me in the days ahead…”
He cinched the bag shut, turned his back on the fleeing mortals, and glided after the wavering shadow host, shadowing Soul Devourer’s path like a blood-scented breeze.
Jared’s duel with the twin elders raged through another dozen brutal exchanges. Each clash drained more of the primordial fire from his veins.
His arms burned, palms numbed, and perspiration rained from his brow. Even Dragonslayer Sword’s gilded flare dimmed, as though the blade itself felt fatigue.
A quick glance through the haze confirmed it, the last survivors were specks on the far ridge, finally beyond the army’s reach. Relief eased the iron band around his chest.
“Time to vanish,” hissed, voice too low for anyone but the night to hear.
Feinting left, whipped Dragonslayer Sword into a blinding downward stroke aimed at Anepan’s brow.
The elder raised both swords to parry. In that heartbeat, Jared pivoted, kicked off a fragment of boulder, and sprinted into the opposite treeline, away from friend and foe alike, until the forest swallowed every trace of gold light behind him.
Anepan and Spathe lunged to pursue, but Jared had loosed several lingering arcs of sword light. The golden crescents hung in the air like barred gates, forcing the elders to carve through them before they could give chase. By the time the radiant barriers faded, the woods offered only silence.
“Forget him. The Soul Devourer first,” Spathe growled.
The two elders traded a grim nod and vaulted after their master’s fading aura.
***
Far ahead, the Soul Devourer thundered through the ravine astride a colossal lion, each hoof-fall exploding shale into dust. His feral glare tracked Aurelius, who lurched across scree with blood streaming down one torn shoulder.
“Aurelius!” the demon roared, voice shaking birds from hidden nests. “Hand over the Ritual Manual, and I may spare you the agony of soul annihilation!”
Aurelius tasted iron with every breath. Torn meridians shrieked each time his boots struck ground, and the world flickered at the edges of his sight. Still. kept both arms wrapped around a small golden casket, the last sliver of hope for the level six, and swore would die before letting it fall into darkness.
Aurelius poured what little spiritual force had left into his legs. His boots barely skimmed the leaf-strewn ground as the forest blurred around him. Yet the chill ofthe black miasma behind clung like frost to bone, and the killing intent rolling off it threatened to lock his very soul in ice.
“So you refuse the easy way? Then drink the penalty instead!” Soul Devourer rose in his saddle and flicked one gauntleted hand.
From the swirling ink of his demonic aura, a claw materialized, long, ebony, and razor-curved, screaming through the air toward Aurelius’s unprotected back.
A single breath later, the nape of the king’s neck prickled with cold. He tried to roll away, but the claw was already upon him.
Out of nowhere, a lance of gold carved across the darkness. Metal rang, a bright, defiant clang, and the demonic claw shattered into drifting soot.
Jared landed beside the king like lightning given human form, Dragonslayer Sword still humming with leftover sparks. “King Aurelius, I’II hold them off. Go! Now!”
“Jared? You came back?” Aurelius’s relief cracked into dread in the same heartbeat. “No! There are too many specter soldiers. We’ll never break out!”
Even as spoke, Anepan and Spathe swept in with several dozen elite soul warriors. Jet-black vapor gushed from their robes, knitting an airtight ring around the two fugitives.
Perched atop his war-lion, Soul Devourer looked down with a smile meant for nightmares. “Since you’re both here, stay. Tonight you‘ll die beside the Ritual Manual and sweeten its rites with your blood.”
Anepan and Spathe slashed in unison. Twin blades of white-hot sword energy tangled into a lethal net, rushing for Jared and Aurelius.
Jared spun Dragonslayer Sword into a whirling sun of gold, severing strand after strand, but each impact drove two steps back. Pain flared in his palms.
Black-boned warriors lunged through the gaps, bone knives glittering.
Jared parried, slashed, and still managed to glance at the man carried his loyalty for. Aurelius’s face had gone sheet-white, his breath flickered like a candle in the wind.
At this rate, I can’t guard him, can’t even save myself…
Desperation tightened around Jared’s heart.
He drew a deep breath. Gold light flooded from every pore, then dimmed to reveal a softer, ash-gray glow turning in his palms, the time nascence itself. The moment it unfurled, the demonic warriors moved as though wading through syrup. The sword net of Anepan and Spathe sagged, robbed of its earlier speed.
Jared seized the opening, hoisted Aurelius onto his back, and dashed toward the deeper. darker folds of the forest.
“Soul Devourer! If you want us, come chase us yourself!” Soul Devourer’s fury cracked the night. “After them! Tear the level six apart if you must, but bring them back!”
He spurred the lion forward. Its iron hooves drummed like thunder, and the Demonic Soul Army flooded behind him, a black tide surging between the trees.
