Manach kept firing. I kept cutting.

  The soldiers fell in gasps and spurts, their breath misting in the cold before silence took them. One by one, until none remained.

  And yet—they stood.

  The royal. The giant.

  Unmoved. Unbothered. Unnatural.

  Even as their men died, even as the frost gnawed the last breath from the women’s lungs, they watched.

  Manach held his bow at the ready, but he didn't loose. Not yet.

  Jorguh sat hunched, shivering, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Hypothermia would take him soon if we didn’t move fast.

  I exhaled, shifting my stance. "Who are you two?"

  The royal man finally stirred. He rose with deliberate grace, brushing nonexistent dust from his sleeve. His clothing—silk, gold embroidery, a wealth of rings on one hand. The other? A black leather glove, resting lightly on the giant’s shoulder. His dark hair fell in loose waves from beneath a regal cap, perfectly maintained. His face—ageless, young yet ancient.

  A magician’s face.

  When he spoke, it was in perfect Reaper tongue.

  "My name is Valinis de Conne. My companion is Lobos de Conne. We are brothers, travelers from the eastern lands."

  His voice was smooth. Unhurried. Calculated.

  Not a flicker of fear.

  I narrowed my eyes. "You answer too easily. Not afraid?"

  Valinis gave a small smile, almost pitying.

  "Afraid? No. You have done your work well. The dwarf is yours—I have no use for him."

  A simple offer. Too simple.

  I frowned. "Before you go. What is this organization? What did we just hit?"

  Valinis tilted his head, thoughtful. "A band of bandits, I presume."

  A lie. A lazy one.

  But I didn’t care enough to pry further.

  "Why leave so easily?" I pressed.

  "Why wouldn’t I?"

  "You’ve just lost your entire operation. Your men are dead. You should be screaming for vengeance."

  Valinis chuckled softly, like I had said something foolish. Then his voice dropped into something colder.

  "I do not want Coldian blood on my hands. It is bad for business."

  Manach tensed beside me. His breathing changed.

  Stolen novel; please report.

  I glanced at him.

  He hated that answer.

  "Like hell we’re letting a snake like you slither away," he growled. "You die here."

  A fight. He wanted this fight.

  I exhaled, assessing.

  Valinis—mage. A powerful one. The cold didn’t touch him. That meant something dangerous. But magic had rules. Limitations. In a cave, with little space? It could either cripple him or make him deadlier.

  Lobos—the wild card. Huge. Bald. Thick arms like tree trunks. His mustache didn’t suit his face, too small for a man that size. He carried a flanged mace big enough to be a longsword. Heavy.

  A brute. Maybe more.

  I had one thought: What is he hiding?

  Valinis sighed.

  "Agh. I had hoped we could avoid more bloodshed. But now? Now, you have offended Lobos."

  Lobos didn’t speak. He reached into his pouch.

  A gesture.

  Manach fired instantly. The arrow flew true, perfect, slamming straight into Lobos’ chest—center mass, where the heart should be.

  Lobos didn’t even flinch.

  He pulled a flask from his belt.

  Popped the cork.

  Drank.

  A thick, yellowish fluid.

  His eyes snapped open.

  They glowed.

  Alchemy.

  I didn’t know enough about it. Neither did Manach.

  But we knew this—potions didn’t glow like that unless they were something unnatural.

  I steadied my blade, activated my rune, and raised my shield. A slow step forward, then a Coldian slash—a blade of sheer cold, cutting the air toward them.

  It vanished before it even got close.

  My gut twisted. Magic.

  Lobos hefted his mace and walked forward. No stance. No guard. Just a slow, deliberate advance, as if he knew we couldn’t hurt him.

  Manach didn’t buy it. Big men fall when you take their foundation.

  He loosed an arrow—low, right for the ankle.

  Lobos vanished.

  One blink. Gone.

  A rush of air.

  I barely had time to process before he was beside me, mid-swing, his mace already coming down.

  I just got my shield up in time.

  Then the impact hit.

  And suddenly, the world was crushing me.

  The force was impossible—like gravity itself had tripled, pressing down on every inch of my body. My spine screamed. My legs buckled. I couldn’t hold it—

  Crack.

  My shield shattered.

  A shield of deathplate. With Coldian coating. It should have been unbreakable.

  I barely had time to register that before I was airborne, launched backward like a ragdoll, slamming full force into the cavern wall.

  Something inside me snapped.

  Pain exploded in my ribs. My left arm folded at a sickening angle. My right shoulder wrenched. I hit the stone and collapsed, the shattered remains of my shield scattered around me in four broken pieces.

  Lobos had crushed it with a single blow.

  Manach tried to fire another shot, but before he could—

  A corpse hurtled toward him.

  He barely dodged. Rolled. Came up with both daggers drawn, dashing forward.

  Too slow.

  Lobos read his movement like a book. He moved faster.

  The mace came down, a deathblow.

  Manach lunged instead of dodging, driving both daggers into the giant’s abdomen.

  Lobos didn’t react.

  Manach yanked the blades free, slicing as he pulled back, but before he could move—

  Lobos shoved him with one hand.

  A casual backhand. A casual backhand.

  Manach stumbled, recovered, slashed—

  Lobos moved again.

  A foot. A kick. But not just any kick—

  A high, acrobatic snap-kick. Impossible for a man that size.

  Manach barely limbo-dodged under it, flipping back toward me.

  I tried to move.

  I couldn’t.

  Not from pain. Not from injury. Something was holding me in place.

  I turned my head.

  Valinis.

  He was watching me.

  Manach stood his ground, shifting into a perfect close-combat stance.

  He never got the chance.

  An arcane spear materialized out of nothing—

  Slamming through his right leg.

  Armor gave way. The spear drove through flesh.

  Manach howled.

  It was all Lobos needed.

  The mace came down.

  A final, bone-shattering impact.

  Both of Manach’s arms snapped from the force. His legs crumpled under the sheer weight of the blow.

  He collapsed at my feet, broken, barely conscious.

  Lobos turned away. Done.

  Valinis approached.

  Calm. Unhurried. Untouched.

  "As I said," he murmured, looking down at me. "I do not want Coldian blood on my hands."

  His voice was like silk over steel.

  "Do not allow yourself to meet my gaze again."

  He turned and walked away.

  And just like that—

  The hold on me vanished.

  I fell.

  Manach was already unconscious, barely breathing. I couldn’t stand. My body refused.

  I looked up.

  The dwarf was moving toward us.

  Then—

  Darkness.