Gira excitedly bounced around in the lowglider as they approached the bustling city of M?ry’Plu. The electric pulse of the Penthestat reverberated through the crisp morning air, filling him with a sense of ever-increasing excitement.

  Ahead, the towering forms of the Skolas Sky Metropolis overtook the view, the majestic structures suspended high above the enigmatic Living Graveyard. They floated gracefully, resembling enormous, ethereal wind chimes gently swaying in harmony with the exhilarating movements of crowds pouring aboard.

  Streams of gliders, vibrant and varied in shape and size, ascended slowly, weaving their paths toward the awe-inspiring metropolis above. Skolas itself consisted of three primary megastructures—Cetarro, Rortemm, and Curvadoss—each magnificent and distinct, commanding their place in the shattered skies of Esthes-3.

  Massive woven cloths adorned and connected these structures in a vibrant and festive display. Fluttering wildly in the coastal breeze, the cloths created an enchanting spectacle with their vivid colors of red, purple, orange, blue, and light blue, seamlessly tying together the grandeur of the main towers and the numerous orbiting facilities scattered throughout Skolas.

  Gira put a hand over his eyes as he dangerously stood at the edge of the lowglider.

  “Gira!” Serfet grabbed him by the collar, yanking him firmly back into his seat. “Please for the love of all that’s gold, just sit still until we arrive at the arena!”

  “Bu-but there’s freaking buildings!” Gira gestured excitedly toward the skyline. “Entire buildings in the sky!”

  “Yeah, yeah…” Serfet mumbled.

  Morray leaned back in his seat, his gaze lingering on the forest below. He popped a pill into his mouth, letting the honey-lime flavor saturate his tongue. “Remember, kid—no killing.”

  “Aye aye, sir!” Gira beamed, flashing a bright smile as the glider climbed higher into the sky.

  Back at the manor, a young woman with stylish short black hair highlighted with purple streaks rang the Voltasaxx Manor’s doorbell as much as she could. She smashed her fingers into the pad until an irritated voice erupted from the speaker.

  “Excuse my tardiness, but who is this?” Kermot the Hollow roared as politely as he could.

  “Yo, Kermi!” The young woman grinned, waving enthusiastically at the camera on the pad.

  “Miss Aria? You’re rather early, aren’t you?”

  “Hehe, sorry ‘bout that, Kermi, but after hearing the duel, how could I not rush over?!” She exclaimed with a playful smirk, “I mean, my sweet little brother might die without being graced by my lady-like glory~?! ”

  “Right… Well, the door has been opened. Unfortunately, we have no rooms available for the time being, and—”

  “What about my old room?” Aria interrupted, already swinging open the heavy door and dragging her luggage through into the garden.

  “Wait, miss! It’s occupied by by—” Kermot’s voice was muffled by the heavy stone door as Aria continued toward the ranger lodge, joyfully strolling through the gardens. She slid her fingers along the cold stone walls, her smile softening as familiar memories returned.

  Reaching the lodge’s entrance, she violently swung the synthetic door open that led into the cozy interior. It’s like I never even left… She traced her hand on the wooden railing as she ascended the familiar wooden stairs. She proceeded down a long hallway lined with doors, stopping at the last one with a smile. She read the name on the plaque next to the door. Gira Mourns.

  Aria’s smug smile grew into a delighted laugh as she entered the room.

  Meanwhile, poor Kermot reluctantly descended from the manor’s control tower, slithering through special tunnels designed specifically for the Hollows. He emerged from an inconspicuous hole on the side of the building, facing the ranger lodge garden.

  Kermot soon appeared in Gira’s room, finding Aria sitting comfortably on the bed, legs crossed, casually checking her crystalcomm as she sucked on a lollipop. She glanced up with a mischievous smirk. “Howdy there, Kermi. I think I’ll be staying here.”

  “But Miss, this room is inhabited by the Coarseblood Gira.”

  “And?”

  Kermot tilted his head, mechanical ears twitching in concern. “Sharing a room with him might prove uncomfortable for you.”

  “Hmmm… I’ll be fine. Think of it this way: if he loses the duel with Borren, I get the room all to myself. If he beats Borren, I get to bond with my new little brother,” she said slyly. “Oh! Before you go, Kermi, could you bring another bed into the room? Just in case he thinks I bite.”

  “No need, Miss. The Coarseblood rarely uses the bed,” Kermot said dryly, gesturing toward the nest of blankets and miscellaneous items hanging from the bars lining the ceiling.

  Aria's eyes sparkled with excitement. “No freaking way! He sleeps UP there!?”

  As the Parabellum Onryō grew ever closer—across the sea and north to the deadshade of the Nókktald. Somewhere in the maze of structures that surrounded the gigantic crucified form of the long-dead giant deep within the city of Heilagj?tunn. We find a young man with a mangle of wires entwined with his bandaged body.

  Beside him, a pale girl sat next in tranquil respite, but even in repose, her expression curled at the edges with a smug triumph. She idly read from a small, clearly personal book, her pale blonde hair resting on a cold windowsill that overlooked the cascading city below.

  The young man's eyes flickered open, exhaustion clear in his weary gaze as he took in the pastel-blue room around him. “I’m alive…” he murmured hoarsely.

  The girl glanced up, her lips curling into an amused smile. “Morning, sunshine~ How was dreamland?”

  “Delíah…” he groaned softly.

  “Lucas.” She answered, putting her book down as she slithered over him, pressing her body against his. Her cold, dead eyes mocked the battered Lucas as she grinned. Her hair pouring over him as she stared down. “You know, I was mortified when Captain Cr? brought your frozen little body to us.”

  Lucas stared into her pale green eyes, unmoved by her proximity. “Did they kill it?”

  Her pupils narrowed like a snake’s. “Unfortunately,” she sighed dramatically, though her fixed smile never wavered.

  Lucas released a heavy sigh of relief and let his eyes rest against the weight of his aching body.

  “Wait…” she whispered. “There’s something you might be interested in.”

  Lucas kept his eyes shut. “Not interested in hearing any of your crazy theories right now…” he muttered dismissively.

  “How mean…” she pouted, pulling away with exaggerated offense. She settled herself comfortably at the edge of the bed, picking up her crystalcomm with an alluring flick. “Guess I’ll just watch the Coarseblood’s Parabellum Onryō on my own, then.”

  Lucas’s eyes snapped wide open. “THE WHAT?!” he shouted, bolting upright in a surge of painful panic.

  Back south, across the Ordovis Sea on the outskirts of the bustling Port City of Krreat, the ranger’s common room buzzed with excitement. Rangers crowded eagerly around several large crystal screens, their faces illuminated by a live feed of the Skolas Sky Metropolis, where the celebrations in honor of the Penthestat were being held.

  Familiar faces gazed with anticipation, their emotions mixed and tense, as the moment they’d all been awaiting was right around the corner.

  On the screens appeared a mechanoid cloaked in flowing crimson veils, standing majestically atop a floating platform overlooking an enormous circular arena. Thousands of Servinae filled the stands, their cheers vibrating through the air as the mechanoid raised its four mechanical wings. At the tips of the faux feathers that lined its wings, long, vibrant strands of orange fabric lifted gently, defying gravity, dancing hypnotically above it.

  The crimson veils cascaded gracefully away, unveiling a humanoid mechanoid of deep, polished red, its face reminiscent of Michelangelo’s David—frozen in timeless contemplation. Suddenly, its mouth illuminated, and a powerful voice resonated through the Arena:

  “CHILDREN OF THE ENN.KORR! CHILDREN OF THE VIVANT MAGNA! WRETCHES OF THE EVE! FLESH, STEEL AND SCALE—ALL ARE WELCOME IN THE HONOR OF THE ONRYō! IN HONOR OF THE ALBION ALBUS.” It spread its arms open as if embracing the roaring stadium as the crowd exploded into thunderous applause.

  The groups of rangers stared at the screen intently as the Parabellum Onryō grew ever closer.

  Somewhere in the lower floors of the Cetarro Sky—Scraper, Serfet finished strapping Gira down with a tight-knit black vest. From the back end of the contraption, a long leash flowed down and into Serfet’s hand.

  “What the heck, Serfet!” Gira protested, tugging unhappily at the stupid kiddie leash he’d been strapped with.

  “This is so we can get your hyperactive ass into the arena in time for your duel!”

  “UGH! This sucks!” Gira crossed his arms.

  Serfet checked his crystalcomm, “They’re here!” he announced excitedly, nudging his brother.

  Morray flinched. “Oh…yay.” he looked scared?

  The three then meandered through the parking lot until they reached a fancy hallway filled with Servinae.

  DING!

  An elevator door opened somewhere within, letting a number of Servinae wander inside.

  Gira studied them, visibly disappointed—they seemed fairly normal, aside from their peculiar fashion, pastel-colored skin, and eccentric hairstyles. Hoping to quell his boredom, he walked up to a particularly pretty Servinae lady and tapped her on the shoulder.

  “Hello! Why are you here today?” he asked curiously.

  The Servinae spun around with an eager smile. “To watch some poor bastard get ripped in half!”

  “Poor bastard? Where?”

  “In the Sky Arena, where else?”

  “Ohhh! You’re talking about my duel with Borren.” Gira said, nodding along.

  Servinae woman suddenly grew ecstatic. “Are you the poor little ranger getting fed to the beast?”

  “Nah,” Gira said dismissively, puffing out his chest. “I’m the Coarseblood.”

  “YOU ARE?!” She got really close to Gira’s face.

  “Yup.” He said relishing the attention. “Might eat him alive—who knows?” He said, trying to sound cool.

  The Servinae lady tapped her friend on the shoulder; she excitedly blabbered something into their ear. The other Servinae suddenly pulled her crystalcomm out and snapped a photo of the smug Gira with the flash on.

  “Agh!” Gira recoiled, scowling. “Hey! No flash, or I’ll eat you too!”

  Serfet finally noticed his little exchange, pulling hard on his leash. “Tssst!” he flicked Gira on the forehead. “Don’t cause a scene!”

  “Ouch—fine…” Gira grumbled.

  A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

  As they entered the elevator, however, something had shifted among the Servinae passengers. There were now excited murmurs all around the trio as they stared down at the little Gira.

  Hmmm… Not a fan of this… Hey Savagrios—give me some height over these dorks!

  Savagrios erupted from the insides of one of the couches. “Of course! We cannot let ourselves be looked down upon!” He roared.

  The two merged, Gira’s gray-black eyes growing a deep crimson red as he stretched up. His features maturing as he now stood taller than Serfet and some of the Servinae.

  Instead of intimidating them, the transformation sent the Servinae passengers into an excited frenzy. Cameras flashed repeatedly, bombarding the handsome Vileblood’s visage with overwhelming attention.

  “Ugh! These lights upset us!” he growled.

  Morray took a deep breath, eyes narrowing as the flashes struck him too. “Serfet, I’m frying these assholes.”

  “Noted,” Serfet replied, calmly encasing himself in protective Kyyr energy.

  The Servinae continued snapping pictures, particularly amused by the now surprisingly shy Savagrios, who was trying his best to cover his face as it reddened as he became increasingly flustered.

  Bzzzk—KRA—BOOOM!

  ...

  Ding.

  The elevator finally reached the main floor of the Cetarro Sky-Scraper. The doors slid open, releasing a tangle of unconscious Servinae that spilled out onto the polished floor. Morray and Serfet casually stepped over the heap.

  Serfet didn’t get far, though—he was forced to pause, yanking hard on the leash as he dragged an equally fried and utterly dazed Savagrios from the elevator’s smoky interior.

  The twitching Savagrios suddenly changed as a blue-eyed Berserkrios took control and jumped onto Morray’s back, grabbing him in a chokehold, “That’s it, you overgrown fucking tree man—I’m not letting this one go!”

  Morray didn’t seem particularly bothered as Berserkrios struggled to strangle Morray as they leisurely walked through a crowd of increasingly interested Servinae. Berserkrios struggled uselessly behind him, cursing and flailing.

  “Gira?” A familiar female voice cut through the sound of the crowd around them.

  Berserkrios looked up, bewildered. “Huh? Who are you?”

  This question seemed to flip a switch within Morray as he ripped Berserkrios off his back and began to shake him around, “Turn back to normal, you little freak!” he said, shaking Berserkrios like an empty piggy bank.

  “W-Wahh! OKAY!! W-Wait-wait-wait! S-Stop—s-stop! I-I’ll t-turn b-b-back, j-just stooop sh-shaAAaAaAking m-meee!!” Berserkrios cried out as his brain was rattled around.

  “W-Whaaat’s h-happeniiing?! OW-OW-OW-WOAHHH! P-Please—S-STOP!!” Gira cried out as he shrank down in size, his little body getting accidentally thrown up into the air before he landed right before the person who’d called his name.

  “Are you okay?” asked a tall woman, her amber-red eyes filled with concern beneath her long, layered black-and-white hair.

  “Eugh…” Gira complained as he held his head painfully. “I-I’m fine…” he mumbled weakly, struggling to rise.

  “Morray!” the woman hissed.

  “Sorry, sis.” He dryly answered.

  Sis? Gira looked up while still holding his head. “Xi—XIZU?!”

  “In the flesh,” Xizu smiled gently, offering him a hand.

  “Thank you…” he said, finally managing to find his footing when he was suddenly met with a soft embrace. Heaven… Was the word that crossed his mind as he felt the warm embrace melt away the passing abuse.

  “Mom…” A mellow female voice called out.

  Xizu let go of the reluctant Gira, revealing Holly standing quietly behind her.

  Gira opened his mouth to speak—and froze. What was her name again?! “H-hello!” he blurted awkwardly.

  Holly blushed, looking away shyly as she gave a timid wave. She looked away flustered as she gave Gira a weak wave.

  Oh flip, what was her name?! Think! Hu? Ho? HOLLY! Quickly regaining his composure, Gira adopted a suave tone, flashing her a confident smile. “How do you do, Holly?”

  “Good…” She replied quietly, looking down as she held a book tight between her hands.

  Was that reaction? Did I get the name wrong? Oh no, it was wrong, wasn’t it! Gira panicked internally, but his attention quickly switched over to Alice. She was standing a little far back with a disgruntled look on her face. OH RIGHT! Gira suddenly dashed in front of Alice and dropped to his hands and knees.

  “SORRY FOR TRYING TO EAT YOU!” he shouted, garnering the attention of the passing Servinae.

  Alice staggered back, looking around embarrassed. Without blessing Gira with a response, she suddenly ran off, causing Holly to chase after her.

  “Huh?” Gira lifted his head, confused, only to feel Xizu’s hand clamp firmly on the scruff of his neck, pulling him upright.

  “You stupid little shrimp-boy, what were you thinking?” she scolded.

  “I wanted to say sorry?” he answered innocently.

  Xizu rolled her eyes before handing him over to Morray like some old rag. She softened again quickly, offering him an encouraging smile. “I’m glad to see you in high spirits, kid. We came out here to support you! So hang in there and kick Borrens ass!” She punctuated with a fight-on gesture.

  Gira blushed slightly, smiling shyly. “Thank you…” His gaze quickly fell onto one of Xizu’s garter pouches. “Say—do you happen to have any candy on you?”

  Xizu chuckled warmly, producing a lollipop from her pocket. “Here you go, buddy.”

  Bu-Buddy? What the? Why does that feel so damn offensive? Why did she freaking call me buddy? Why is that pissing me off?

  Gira took the candy and smiled with a thoughtful glare. “Thanks…” he held the candy tightly. “Alright, Morray—take me to wherever I’m supposed to go!”

  Morray proceeded to drop Gira, “Sorry bud, I’m going to spend the day with my nieces. Serfet here will be your guide for the day.” he said pointing at a now equally distraught Serfet.

  Bud? Why’d he call me bud? Has he called me bud before? Why is this annoying me?

  “Wait, WHAT?” Serfet shouted, panicking slightly. “I thought Xizu was going to accompany us?”

  “Nope,” Xizu replied bluntly.

  “I signed you up as his sponsor.” Morray added casually picking at his hair.

  Serfet’s eye twitched, his smile curving as a frown formed, but! Serfet took a deep breath, in and out.Okay… Let’s just get this over with.” He abruptly turned, dragging Gira deeper into the crowd by his leash.

  “Hey—Egh! Don’t pull so hard!” Gira protested.

  Serfet didn’t seem to care as he dragged Gira deeper into the crowd.

  Xizu watched as the two disappeared, turning to Morray with a deathly stare. “What’s your ploy here, Morray? Why not let Gira fight to kill?”

  Morray popped another pill into his mouth. “Just testing his creativity,” he replied blandly, earning a fierce scowl from his sister, whose gaze narrowed ominously on the pills in his hand.

  Serfet managed to stuff Gira into a crowded elevator with a bunch of excited Servinae. Though the elevator walls were transparent, all Gira could see was a jumble of colorful figures crammed tightly around him. Slowly, the number of people began to decrease until there were only 3 people left in the elevator.

  Serfet almost choked on his own spit as he wide-eyed stared at the man who had fallen asleep in the corner of the elevator. There slumped against the corner of the floating elevator was none other than Borren Hibern.

  Gira dramatically stretched out, “Awww man, where are we even going?” Serfet didn’t answer. “Serfet?” He waved his hand over his face, but Serfet didn’t respond. He was frozen in place like a prehistoric creature deep in the permafrost.

  The man in the corner groggily pushed his shades up with his hands as he picked at his eyes before yawning wide as he cracked his neck.

  Gira noticed him and mirrored his yawning. “Awww, man, you’re making me sleepy, sir.”

  “Ah, sorry ’bout that, lad—had a bit of a mad one last night,” he grumbled as he took a swig from what Gira thought was water. It was not.

  Borren pushed his shades up and studied the strange boy with the leash; his crimson eyes suddenly flashed with recognition as he suddenly burst into hearty laughter.

  “BAHAHAHA! By the Albion’s dick, no feckin’ way! If it isn’t the wee shite Curseblood himself! AHAHAHA!” He took another savage swig of his so-called “water.”

  “Ehhh?” Gira was beyond confused by the bearded stranger.

  Serfet’s brain finally snapped back into motion. “ G-Gira! That’s the guy you’re fighting today!”

  Gira looked between the two, “Wow? Really?” He studied his opponent with a hand on his chin. “Hmmm… he did look familiar, I guess.”

  Borren towered over Gira at a solid 210 cm (7 feet 2 Inches) of lean, compressed muscle. He was wearing star-shaped shades that matched his coral shirt that barely contained his broad chest. His muscles were decorated with fancy tattoos that reminded Gira of someone else.

  “Hey, Mister Borren? Did you and Siegwick get matching tattoos?”

  Borren raised a brow. “Met ol’ Whitey Wick, did ya now?”

  Gira nodded, “Yup, and he had a similar tattoo!” he said, pointing at the entwined dragons.

  Borren smirked, “Ha! Me an’ ol’Whitey Wick? Use ta’ hunt Dragon Gods before yer ma let you out the house without a leash!” He laughed.

  Gira grabbed onto the stupid leash on his back, embarrassed.

  DING.

  They had arrived at their floor. The three stepped out and into a luxuriously furnished lobby decorated in crimson banners bearing foreign script. Large windows offered a dizzying view of the sea far below. Standing behind a fancy marbled white and red desk stood a humanoid machine and Onryō Sombra. It was a mechanoid like the announcer, bound in red veils and coated with its own four winds like an angel of war. Its face was a white mask that was a human man’s, frozen in an exaggerated expression of amusement.

  “WELCOME HONORABLE WARRIORS, TO THE HOUSE OF THE ONRYō!” It announced with far too much volume for the room’s size. “Borren, former member of the House of the Hunting King—your dressing awaits on my left!”

  Borren took another swig of his “water” as he wobbled down the hallway on its left.

  “Gira, son of Calamity and descendant of our most revered Zayto Onryō—I welcome you home.” It bowed deeply.

  “Descendant of who?” Gira asked, looking between the mechanoid and Serfet.

  Serfet shrugged, equally confused.

  The mechanoid raised his head. “Zayto Onryō’s blood shall bless you, oh crimson child of Calamity.” The mechanoid intoned reverently, gesturing toward a hallway to the right.

  Serfet and Gira exchanged bewildered looks but proceeded anyway. Lining the walls were images depicting Onryō Rangers in triumphant battle sequences. Sagasaurs, Man, and Mechanoids all in brotherhood as they slayed the horrors of an untamed universe.

  “This is so cool! Serfet, look at this one! They’re fighting a Vai’tolant! Oh and look at the weird dragon in this other one. Wow, the uniforms on these guys were crazy! Look at the cool symbol on them!” Gira was running around inspecting all the images that decorated the walls.

  Eventually, they arrived at a dressing room guarded by another Onryō Sombra, this one bearing a feminine, attractive visage. It bowed gracefully.

  “Welcome, esteemed guests. Your uniform has been specially tailored for your Coarseblood nature.” A wall panel slid open silently, revealing an assortment of suits—Onryō Ranger uniforms, each varying in armor and style. “You may mix and match from these options.”

  Gira’s heart almost shattered his ribs as he rushed to the suits. They were Onryō Ranger Uniforms. And in the middle of them all was one particular uniform that called to Gira. Most of the actual outfit was hidden beneath a long, scaly black robe that was draped around the suit. The tips of the cape were tipped in a red gradient. The armored collar led up to a helmet shaped like a Coarseblood skull, complete with auricular ports and decorative, jagged jaws. Red Xs scratched horizontally across the helmet’s eye area, making Gira’s mouth water.

  Sa-savagrios! You gotta see this!

  Savagrios grumbled, “It better not be crowded out there!”

  Gira’s eyes flashed crimson as the two merged. His crimson eyes lay on the uniform, but instead of sharing in Gira’s excitement, a melancholy suddenly overtook the Giras. Savagrios reached out and gently touched the uniform.

  “We cannot wear this. We do not deserve it.”

  Gira was confused and almost compelled to ask why but he was met with the loss of a misbegotten remembrance lost to a memory of someone who barely existed.

  They silently chose a simpler uniform: sleek black fabric, with a vibrant crimson right sleeve patterned in a fading X-design. Emblazoned at its center was the emblem of the Onryō—a sword tipped with a double helix, resting on a blazing silhouette.

  “The Parabellum Onryō will commence in eight minutes,” the mechanoid announced gently. “Rules are simple: all tactics allowed except external weapons. Kyyr abilities are permitted. External assistance is forbidden. Torture is discouraged but permitted. Victory is achieved by death or total incapacitation. Breaking rules leads to execution. Any questions?”

  Gira shook his head.

  The mechanoid bowed before hovering over to another doorway. “These doors will open when the time comes.”

  Serfet quickly snapped a photo of Gira’s new uniform, sighing internally. Xizu is such a pain with these requests. By the Fifteen, I hope he doesn’t brutalize Borren like those poor Karakites. Serfet scrunched up his face in disgust. He put his crystalcomm in his pocket and wrapped the leash around the vest as he sat down.

  Gira stared at the doorway, lost in thought with Savagrios. Hey, what was that?

  “We don’t know.”

  Do you want to know?

  Savagrios didn’t answer.

  Time went surprisingly fast; the Giras were caught mid-discussion when the doors swung open, revealing the cries of excitement from thousands of people that had filled the Skolas Sky Arena.

  Berserkrios eagerly growled within, “It’s time!”

  K calmly whispered, “Be careful, dear me.”

  Savagrios inhaled deeply, resolve firm. “Let us show them our might!”

  Gira swallowed nervously, gripping the lollipop tightly in his pocket. “Oh boy…”

  Back at the Manor, Aria rushed out of her room, snatching up the keys for a lowglider as she dashed down to the hangar. To her surprise, she found a nervous figure standing at the base of the stairs, anxiously eyeing the low-gliders. It was a girl dressed in fancy but dark streetwear, tightly clutching a black hat adorned with little wing accessories.

  “Mera?” Aria called out.

  “Eeeeee! Wha—?” Startled, Mera spun around and flattened herself against the wall, eyes wide in panic.

  “Mera! Yaho~! Long time no see!” Aria rushed forward, smiling brightly at her old squadmate.

  “A-aria?” Mera stammered.

  Aria smirked internally. I forgot how skittish she was… “Are you heading to the Sky Arena too?”

  Mera nodded shyly, rummaging nervously through her bag until she produced a ticket. “Ummm… Mr. Gira invited me to come, but I’m really no good with crowds…”

  Aria’s brows shot up in surprise. He invited a girl already? Damn he’s fast… shame it was Mera, though. Bless his little heart. Welp. It’s easiest to bond with people through trauma! Breaking his heart should count! But wait… Mera’s dressed up so nicely. Impossible! I thought she had her sleeping beauty back in Krreat? Wow. Gira must be more impressive than I had imagined… Shoot, am I flying too close to the flames of the Arcenais?

  Mera anxiously stared at Aria, making a bunch of weird faces. “Ummm… C-could you help me get to the Arena please?”

  Aria snapped out of her delusion. “Ehh—?” she shook her head, noticing Mera hiding bashfully behind her hat. “Oh, sure! Of course I’ll help!”

  Mera lowered her head gratefully, offering a small, timid smile. “Thank you very much.”

  And so the unlikely pair headed to the Skolas Sky Arena.

  Dear readers,

  MEGA CHAPTER. That’s right—no waiting around for a random number of days while my grimy goblin self procrastinates. You’ll get one long, satisfying battle to the brink of death.

  -L. Osric