The sudden shock and intense pain from the sharp edges of the blade ripping through bone and flesh all the same caused Isaac to stagger, his rage momentarily giving way to surprise.

  Isaac’s eyes widened in shock as he coughed up a stream of blood.

  “W-what the fuck!” he screamed, his voice a pained roar as he staggered, clutching his wounded stomach.

  Quickly grabbing Isaac, Artist threw him over his shoulder with a powerful heave. There was no time for apologies or explanations; survival was all that mattered now.

  All the while, Verside and Spunk’s eyes widened as they struggled to comprehend the betrayal.

  With Isaac’s heavy weight on his shoulder, Artist took off, his feet a blur against the cracked pavement. His heart pounded in his chest as he sprinted away, desperate to escape the chaos.

  However, in a near instant, Verside’s shocked expression twisted into a wide, manic grin.

  “There’s no use in running!” he screamed, his voice filled with twisted glee.

  As the three singing stone masks on his weapon began to glow with ominous light, he laughed out maniacally, “Turn to dust!”

  Artist, not risking even a glance, continued forward, his lungs burning and Isaac's dead weight growing heavier by the second, the air behind him rippled with an unnatural energy.

  Suddenly, one of the three singing masks on Verside’s weapon shifted. Its stone surface cracked with a sickening snap, and it shot off the weapon with a sharp screech, swirling midair before bursting into a cloud of dark energy.

  The malevolent cloud hissed as it coiled and twisted, and in an instant, it launched itself at Isaac and Artist with terrifying speed.

  “What the—?” Artist barely had time to react as the cloud enveloped him, its cold, suffocating presence pressing down on his chest. He stumbled, nearly losing his grip on Isaac, and felt the ground beneath him vanish for a split second as his feet scrambled for balance.

  For a moment, Artist’s mind screamed in panic. He expected his body to burn, to dissolve under the dark force, but… nothing. No pain. No searing heat. Just a bone-deep chill that left him shaken but unharmed.

  "What the hell was that?" Artist gasped as he kept moving, his voice filled with bewilderment. The dark cloud swirled and twisted around them like a hungry predator but seemed to make no move to strike again. Instead, it circled ominously before vanishing into the cracks of the earth like it had never existed.

  However, there was no time to dwell on whatever had just happened as the hum of Verside’s weapon grew louder, and instinctively, Artist knew another attack was coming. This would most definitely be intended to kill.

  Artist, sensing the imminent danger, knew he had only seconds to act. With Isaac still draped over his shoulder, he pushed his body to its absolute limit, adrenaline surging through his veins.

  The ground beneath him cracked and trembled as the beam of dark energy from Verside’s weapon raced toward them, its malevolent light casting long, ominous shadows.

  Desperate and running out of options, Artist spotted a crumbling wall just ahead. With no time to think, he channeled all his strength into a powerful leap, using his momentum to launch both himself and Isaac over the wall.

  The beam of energy crashed into the ground where they had just been, exploding with a deafening roar that sent debris flying in all directions.

  Artist landed hard on the other side, rolling to absorb the impact and protect Isaac from further harm. The shockwave from the blast hit them like a freight train, but the wall provided just enough cover to shield them from the full force of the attack.

  Panting heavily, Artist didn’t allow himself a moment to rest. He scrambled to his feet, pulling Isaac up with him. Despite the pain and exhaustion gripping his body, he forced himself to keep moving, knowing that staying in one place would mean certain death.

  After the near escape, Artist didn’t slow down, his focus solely on getting as far away from Verside as possible. But just as he was about to push forward, Isaac suddenly jerked back, tearing himself from Artist’s grasp with surprising strength. The momentum caused Artist to stumble slightly before he turned, eyes wide with concern.

  Isaac’s wound, the one Artist had inflicted, was already searing shut, the flesh knitting back together with a sickening sizzle. Isaac’s chest heaved with anger and confusion, his eyes blazing with fury.

  "What the hell is wrong with you!" Isaac yelled, his voice echoing through the empty space around them as he hissed in pain before falling to his knees.

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  Even still, the sheer force of his rage made the air crackle with residual heat, as if the flames within him were ready to burst forth again.

  Artist took a step back, his heart pounding.

  Only for his eyes to narrow as he regained his composure, the adrenaline still coursing through his veins.

  “What the hell is wrong with me? Are you fucking joking?” His voice was sharp, edged with a mix of anger and desperation. “You’ll be dead in a second if you go back out there!”

  He stepped closer to Isaac, his expression fierce. “You lost, Isaac!”

  Isaac’s glare hardened, his fists clenching as Artist’s words hit home. His chest heaved with labored breaths, the heat of the phoenix still simmering just beneath his skin.

  For a long, tense moment, they stood in silence, the only sound between them being the distant echo of Verside’s crazed laughter and the rumble of explosions in the distance. The battlefield seemed to close in around them, the weight of the situation pressing down like a physical force.

  Artist finally broke the silence, his voice low but urgent. “You lost, Isaac. And Verside’s right—at this rate, that phoenix is going to take over and destroy your soul.”

  Isaac’s expression twisted with rage, his eyes burning with a fury that matched the flames within him.

  “Shut up!” he snapped, his voice rough and raw. “You don’t know what you’re talking about!”

  The flames around Isaac flared again, the intensity of his anger feeding them. He wasn’t hearing Artist’s warning, too consumed by his own frustration and the burning desire for revenge.

  As Isaac’s rage boiled over, Spunk, crawling from Artist hair, trembled. The little creature’s eyes were wide with fear and confusion, desperately wanting to reach out to Isaac.

  “Isaac, please!” Spunk pleaded, its voice small and trembling. “Don’t do this! We’re your friends! We’re trying to help you!”

  Before Spunk could say more, Artist raised a hand, silencing the creature. His gaze remained locked on Isaac, his expression hardening as he stepped forward.

  “I guess Spunk was wrong about you,” Artist said, his voice cutting through the tension like a blade. “You aren’t worth much at all. And here I was, excited at the thought of burning down the Twenty Houses with you… only to find out you don’t even know when you’re beat.”

  His words hung in the air, heavy and biting, a challenge that struck at Isaac’s pride. Artist’s disappointment was palpable, his stance firm as he prepared for whatever would come next, knowing full well that his words might push Isaac even further to the edge.

  Isaac’s eyes flared with renewed fury at Artist's words. The flames that had started to flicker and dim roared back to life, casting an intense heat that seemed to warp the air around him.

  "You think I don’t know when I’m beat?" Isaac snarled, his voice a low, dangerous growl and his eyes now resembling the Phoenix’s. "I’m not beaten, not by you, not by Verside, and sure as hell not the soul inside me!"

  He took a step forward, his fists clenched, flames licking up his arms as the multi-colored feathers sprouted forth. "I’m not going to run away just because you think I should. I don’t need your protection, Artist. I don’t need anyone!"

  Isaac’s rage was palpable, the fire in his eyes burning with a mix of defiance and pride. He was on the edge, teetering between control and the all-consuming power of the phoenix, but his determination to prove himself was stronger than ever.

  "You want to burn down the Twenty Houses?" Isaac continued, his voice rising. "Then get out of my way, because I’m going to be the one to do it, with or without you!"

  Artist watched as Isaac stumbled forward, the toll of his injuries still visible despite the rapid healing. The phoenix’s power might have mended his flesh, but the exhaustion and pain were evident in Isaac’s unsteady movements, in the way he struggled to maintain his balance.

  Spunk, perched on Artist’s shoulder, panicked. "Artist, stop him! He’s not thinking straight! Please, don’t let him do this!" The tiny creature’s voice was desperate, filled with fear for Isaac’s safety.

  Artist hesitated for just a moment, his eyes narrowing as he weighed the situation. But then he nodded, his resolve hardening. “You’re right, Spunk. I can’t let him destroy himself…this story is finally getting interesting, things have never been so loud for me before.”

  With a sudden burst of speed, Artist rushed toward Isaac, his feet barely touching the ground as he closed the distance between them. Isaac, sensing the movement behind him, spun around, his eyes blazing with defiance, ready to fight. But he was too late.

  With a swift, calculated strike, Artist brought his blade down—not to kill, but to incapacitate. The blow hit Isaac squarely, knocking the wind out of him and sending him crashing to the ground. The flames around him flickered and dimmed as Isaac’s body went limp, consciousness slipping away under the force of the attack.

  Isaac lay on the ground, his breathing shallow but steady, the phoenix’s flames now reduced to faint embers around him. Artist stood over him, his sword still in hand, the weight of his decision heavy on his shoulders.

  Spunk, trembling, looked from Isaac to Artist, relief and sorrow mingling in its small voice. "You... you didn’t kill him."

  Artist shook his head, his expression somber. "No, but I had to stop him before he got himself killed. He’ll hate me for this, but at least he’ll be alive to do so."

  Spunk's eyes softened, though they remained conflicted as they stared anxiously at Isaac's unconscious body, "I hope he’s okay."

  Artist sighed, his gaze fixed on Isaac, “Yeah…”

  As everything was swallowed by darkness, Isaac’s senses blurred, consciousness slipping away. But soon, a new but familiar reality snapped into focus as the world of cracked pavement and burning ruins vanished.

  Replaced by an inferno that stretched endlessly in all directions, Isaac saw a sky set ablaze, a sea of molten fire, and towering waves of flame raged throughout, twisting and roaring as if alive.

  Before, finally, resting his eyes on the heart of this fiery storm—the Phoenix.

  Isaac clenched his fists, teeth grinding in frustration.

  “Not this shit again!” he hissed, his voice echoing against the roaring flames.

  The last time he'd faced the Phoenix, it had interpreted his training in hopes to talk, but now, as he stood within this fiery storm once more, there was no escaping what lay ahead.