Lilieth immediately rushed at the Flockmother, punch after punch thrown at the woman. Lyanne weaved through her strikes listlessly, as if she could see them coming seconds in advance. With just as little effort, she retaliated with a jab that landed square on Lilieth’s face. The young mage staggered back. The blow hit harder than anything she’d ever taken from Spearman’s students. Blood began to drip from her nose.

  Lilieth knew, quite intimately, how vast the gap between tiers was. The First tier comprised levels 1 through 20. A level 19 mage was weaker than a level 20 mage—that was only expected—but not by much. Nobody would raise an eyebrow if a level 20 was defeated by a level 19 or 18 or 17. Hells, even a level 1 still had a chance of winning if the situation was in their favor.

  The discussion shifted if the fight was between a level 20 and a level 21. Ask any number of people you meet that question, and they’d unanimously agree that the level 21 would win. As the only First tier in her hero’s party, Lilieth knew how wide the gap was better than anyone else.

  Lyanne was in the Second tier. Her body was far stronger and much faster than Lilieth’s own. Each blow she landed hit with the force of a jackhammer.

  Lilieth’s vision blurred. Her already-cracked ribs creaked. She was losing too much blood, and her mana was starting to run out. She had undeniably gotten stronger, but between the injuries she sustained from fighting wyverns and the ones she was taking from the Flockmother, she wasn’t going to last much longer.

  She could feel it. Death was skulking ever closer. She was ... again, she’d ...

  No bloody chance.

  A voice spoke inside her head—one that wasn’t her own.

  Teth is behind us. We keep fightin’.

  Lilieth felt a disgust permeate through her. She gritted her teeth, wanting to yell back at the voice: Get out of my head!

  Shut the fuck up and fight, ya brat.

  Lyanne took another swing. Waiting until the last second, Lilieth parried it and threw a quick jab of her own. Eyes wide, the Flockmother staggered back, barely dodging the strike.

  Don’t let ‘er catch ‘er breath.

  Lilieth rushed forward, throwing another hit, then another. Unconsciously, she was tapping into Markosh’s muscle memory, falling into a rhythm that felt familiar. He was much more skilled than Lilieth—that was for certain. Years of experience defined his movements, and it didn’t feel right for Lilieth to simply take them for herself. But right now, she didn’t have much of a choice. She needed every edge she could get.

  Lyanne, however, was quick to adapt. Though she no longer had that cocky smile of hers, her movements became sharper, as did her eyes. She dodged every attack with precision and retaliated with her own flurry of blows. No matter how good of a fighter Markosh was, it couldn’t bridge the gap between Lilieth and a Second.

  Sibeiya swooped in, blocking one of the blows with her spear. The two traded attacks at high speed, but it was clear to Lilieth that the Shebauno was lagging behind.

  What, you gonna let her hog all that bloody glory?

  “Get out!”

  Sibeiya’s spear broke in half from Lyanne’s attacks.

  Lilieth rushed back in, reengaging with a blast of strikes. Sibeiya discarded her spear and turned to bare-handed attacks, the two of them attempting to overwhelm the Divinationmage. Beads of sweat were beginning to form on Lyanne’s face, and for once, she actually looked worried.

  Judging by how fast her eyes were darting around, it was likely that she was using that spell of hers that slowed down her perception of time. That wouldn’t matter, however, if they assaulted her with as many attacks as they could. She couldn’t possibly defend against all of them.

  In the corner of Lilieth’s vision, she could see the others taking on the yellow wyverns. No, there was no time to divert her attention. She had to focus on her own fight and hope the others could handle theirs.

  Phaedon’s arm stung like a bitch.

  Using a sword with one hand was bad enough, and the fact that his other arm was basically dead weight didn’t make things any better. The yellow wyvern in front of him roared, and Phaedon could see his own blood dripping down its bared fangs.

  The bodyguard named Sela moved in beside him, sword at the ready.

  “The hell are you doing here?” Phaedon barked at her. “Go and protect Cynthia!”

  “Agasias is there,” she said. “He’s stronger than me. He can defend them both by himself, no problem. And it’s Lady Cynthia to you.”

  Phaedon took a second to survey the rest of the room and clicked his tongue. Sibeiya and her new friend were handling the Flockmother. Albus was dealing with one of the yellows. The other bodyguard, Agasias, was standing in defense in front of Cynthia and the injured woman that Albus carried here. The third wyvern was ... screeching at the wall, for some reason. An odd but good thing—no time to think about why it was doing that.

  “You Blessed?” Phaedon asked the bodyguard.

  “I wouldn’t be working as a maid if I was.”

  You’re a maid? Phaedon wanted to ask, but now wasn’t the time. “How well do you think you’ll fare against a yellow?”

  Sela shrugged, a bead of sweat falling down the side of her temple. “Generous estimate? Not very well.”

  The wyvern wasn’t rushing in just yet—yellows were cautious by nature—but it wouldn’t keep its distance for long. Phaedon didn’t like his chances against a yellow either. He’d never fought one before, but he could tell just how strong it was from how much force he needed to pierce its jaw.

  It was just a beast, and it would have been so easy to kill it if its senses weren’t so sharp. Every time he tried to land a decisive blow, the wyvern dodged or deflected with its own attacks.

  “You focus on distracting it,” he said. “I’ll find a way to kill it.”

  Phaedon moved in swinging, the bodyguard—or maid, rather—following behind him. The wyvern roared in his direction, and he felt his entire body convulse.

  A massive hole opened the ground where they stood, leading all the way down a dark abyss. By instinct, he pushed Sela away and jumped to the other side.

  “Jumel Almighty!” she gasped.

  Phaedon clicked his tongue—he knew from the lectures in his youth what spellbeasts could do. Stupid. “Yellows can open up holes in the ground! Don’t get caught in them!”

  The maid-bodyguard gulped. “I better get a raise for this ...”

  Lilieth and Sibeiya were able to land a decent number of hits. The Flockmother was looking strained.

  “Munchkin! Stop screaming at the wall and help mommy out!” Lyanne shouted.

  The distracted wyvern ran over and swiped at the young mages. Sibeiya dodged; Lilieth jumped back. Lyanne retreated, given the opportunity.

  “[Caliga]!”

  The Flockmother shifted her stance, widening her legs just enough to dodge the earth as it rose up to lock her down.

  “Sculpt magic?” Lyanne exclaimed. “How in the heavens ...?”

  As expected, that spell of hers allowed her to react too quickly to Lilieth’s attempts. For their first time properly fighting as a team, Lilieth and Sibeiya were able to coordinate well enough. Lilieth’s perfect memory of Sibeiya’s techniques combined with the Shebauno’s natural combat instincts made them work together. None of that, however, could bridge the gap of actual experience they lacked against Lyanne, and the latter was able to acclimate quickly to their team-up.

  The yellow wyvern roared at them, and the earth below Lilieth began to sink. Before she could react, Sibeiya kicked her away, stopping the newly formed hole in the ground from taking her.

  The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

  “Deal with the bitch!” the Shebauno shouted as she rushed at the wyvern to distract it. Lilieth quickly turned her focus back to Lyanne, not giving her the chance to slip past them and reach Cynth. The young mage threw punches and kicks she’d never practiced that her body somehow knew how to do.

  Stop drawin’ from my memories, brat. We both know I ain’t standin’ a chance against her. I’ve only got two spells under me belt.

  Lilieth focused on fighting.

  There’s another set of memories you could use. Someone much bloody stronger than I am. Ya know that, right?

  Lilieth threw a hook. A kick. A jab. A backhand—all evaded or blocked. She felt useless without a weapon. Useless. Once again, useless.

  Pathetic.

  Lyanne threw another particularly nasty punch at Lilieth’s face. She stumbled back, nearly falling over. She was at her limit. Her senses were starting to fail her. She could barely hear anything ...

  ... Hear?

  Wait ... what time is it?

  “You’re strong ... for a child,” Lyanne said with deep breaths, as if she had just finished a jog. “Honestly, what is wrong with the world nowadays? Children shouldn’t be fighting.”

  “Says ... the woman trying to kill one,” Lilieth spat out.

  Lyanne sighed, twirling her hair with her finger. “Yes, I see that.”

  Phaedon landed near Lilieth, blown back and grunting as he made impact with the ground. His entire arm was coated in red. The bodyguard lady, Albus, and Sibeiya ... everyone fighting had withdrawn from their respective fights, all bearing significantly more concerning injuries than they’d started with. Around them, Lyanne and her three wyverns were approaching slowly.

  “Look, just make this easy on yourselves,” she started. “It’s just one kid. Hells, the city would be better off if Valery Kastrionis was at its head. I’m sure everyone here agrees, even if no one’s willing to say it. Both Artemest, and all of you, would be better off without her.”

  “What kind of hero murders a child?!” Lilieth yelled, her voice so strong that it surprised even her.

  Lyanne scoffed. “Just because I’m Blessed doesn’t mean I’m any kind of hero, darling. The word ‘hero’ is a lie sold by the Salt Kingdom so they can convince more gullible fools to throw themselves at the demons. That’s what they sold my husband, anyway. Look what good that did him: dying and leaving his pregnant wife alone to provide for their future child.

  “My baby was Blessed straight out of the womb, too, and the Guild found out fast. They wanted to take my child the moment they knew—train her to become another of the Salt King’s loyal dogs. And when I said no, they hired bandits to kidnap her in the middle of the night. I spent years tracking her down … I found her thirteen years later.” Lyanne took a breath. “She didn’t remember me, of course, and she didn’t even care that I was her mother. To her, the kingdom was her only parent. I tried to take her back, but she wouldn’t have it. She fought. And I had to ... with my own hands ...”

  Lyanne unsheathed a dagger from her waist and held it in her palms. The dagger was old and worn.

  “It wasn't long before I turned on the Guild,” she continued, and her expression became grave, fury setting in her eyes. “‘What kind of hero murders a child?’, you ask? There is no kind—because heroes aren’t real. The only things here are broken people and people marked for breaking. If there’s anything you should take away from this, child, it’s that this world doesn’t care about you. It will hoist upon you its own weight, dress it up as a great honor, and demand everything in return. What I do is a mercy, so don’t you dare start talking about shallow idealisms that don’t exist!”

  For a moment, everyone stood still, not knowing what to say or how to react, their faces contorted in confusion and disturbance.

  “A mercy ...?”

  A shaking voice from behind them. Tethys.

  Lyanne stared at her. “You—you’re a mother, aren’t you? I can tell.”

  “You were a mother once, too,” Tethys replied, glaring. “Surely, somewhere in your heart, you remember what it was like to love. And yet … you can choose to kill a child so easily?!”

  “Perhaps if we were in a better world, people like me wouldn’t exist. But we aren’t in one, are we?”

  They came in closer. Lyanne was done with story time. Everyone tensed up as the four cornered them.

  “Last chance. Step aside,” the Flockmother offered.

  Nobody budged.

  She sighed. “Fine. Last words, then. Does anyone have any?”

  Lilieth locked eyes with her. “Do you know what time it is?”

  The Flockmother’s brows furrowed with confusion.

  The sound of a bell struck everyone in the room, a bone-shaking tremor washing over them. Lamps and trinkets that hung on the walls swayed; the moonsilver lamp pulsed erratically.

  The Greatbells of Krysanth always rang four times in a day: morning, noon, evening, and midnight. Always—without missing a single instance. No matter what kind of disaster befell the city, the Greatbell would ring by itself, requiring no human intervention.

  Lilieth could feel power surging through her from the Greatbell’s ring. The bells were more than just decoration: they supplied the megalopoleis of Krysanth with energy, powering their moonsilver lamps and other such trinkets. Each ring brought with it a burst of mana that the city collected, and some of that mana would be carried through the sound itself. Lilieth received just a tiny bit of mana, as human bodies were notoriously bad at absorbing it without direct intake, but with how low her own reserves were getting, that was good enough.

  They were a fair bit away from the Greatbell, and from this distance, it wasn’t terribly loud. But wyverns were creatures with sharp senses, and they tended to stay away from settlements for a reason.

  As Lilieth expected, the three yellows roared and started thrashing about in panic with Lyanne trying to calm them down.

  Nobody missed the signal for opportunity. They all moved to attack the flustered beasts. Phaedon rushed in, dodging a swinging tail, and landed a good thrust into one wyvern’s neck. Albus jumped at one of the others and stabbed his two blades into its eyes.

  Lilieth and Sibeiya rushed at the last wyvern. The desert girl picked up the upper remnant of her spear and thrust it into the wyvern’s chest. It only pierced a few inches deep. The beast puffed its chest and opened its maw, ready to launch a—

  “[Caliga]. [Sculpta].”

  Spells in quick succession—Lilieth raised hardened earth around one of her feet, softened just the base of it to disconnect it from the ground with a swift touch of her palm, and hammered an axe kick onto the splintering butt of the half-spear. The blade dug deeper into the beast. It screeched. Sibeiya pulled the weapon out, and an eruption of blood sputtered everywhere as the wyvern fell over, thrashing about before collapsing, unmoving.

  The Flockmother clicked her tongue and moved, dagger in hand, towards Cynth. Lilieth cast Caliga again, but Lyanne simply jumped over her attempt to seize her. The two bodyguards ran to intercept, swinging their weapons.

  “[God’s Eyes Alight]!” Lyanne chanted then dodged both attacks perfectly, swinging her dagger twice and stabbing both defenders in the sides of their stomachs. They fell to the ground.

  “Sela! Agasias!” Cynth cried out.

  Lilieth recognized the chant. God’s Eyes Alight was a Second tier spell that allowed its user to see several seconds into the future, but it only lasted for a minute.

  Lilieth, Sibeiya, Albus, and Phaedon rushed in to simultaneously attack her, but Lyanne, in one smooth motion, weaved through every strike, landing her own on each of the four as she did.

  “[Scissor]!” Sibeiya shouted. Lyanne’s eye twitched.

  With that, Sibeiya wouldn’t be able to use Scissor for the next few hours. They needed to make sure the Flockmother didn’t get a chance to cast another spell.

  The four of them launched attack after attack, and Lyanne could only barely protect herself. She blocked a kick only to be hit with a blow to her ribs. She dodged a spear only to be forced to catch a blade with her unprotected hand. Bit-by-bit, they were winning.

  “[Enhance Agility I]!”

  Lilieth jumped at Lyanne and swung her earth-armoured foot at the woman’s face. She staggered backward from the blow before finally dropping to her knees, a strained expression on her face as everyone surrounded her.

  Just then, Lilieth’s mana ran out, and she would’ve dropped to the ground as well if Sibeiya hadn’t caught her by her shoulder.

  “I can still stand,” Lilieth whispered. “But thanks.”

  Sibeiya nodded and released her. Lilieth’s own legs felt like they were about to buckle, but to her credit, she did remain upright.

  “Give it up, Flockmother,” Phaedon said. “It’s over.”

  Slowly, Lyanne laughed—weakly, at first, before devolving into a guffaw. Then, she spoke:

  “It’s playtime, Sugar!”

  The ground shook as a horrible roar echoed from the surface, and the sounds of destruction followed.

  “The hells was that?!” Sibeiya exclaimed.

  With everyone distracted, Lyanne jumped towards Cynth. Lilieth was the only Blessed who noticed, but her body was too beaten down to move.

  Just as the Flockmother was about to grab her, Tethys pushed the child away. Cynth fell to the ground with a yelp.

  Everyone’s attention turned to them. Lilieth grabbed Cynth and pulled her away from Lyanne while the rest of them ran to Tethys—

  “Nobody move!”

  She held Tethys by the neck and dangled her over one of the holes the wyverns created. A surge of panic flooded Lilieth’s nerves.

  “Hand over the child, and I won’t drop this woman.” The Flockmother’s voice was laced with frustration and desperation.

  Everyone stood still.

  Do it.

  Lilieth flinched.

  Teth is in danger. Give her the child, ya brat.

  I’m not doing that. I’m not letting her kill Cynth.

  But you’ll let her kill Teth?

  I won’t let her kill either!

  Not like ya got a better plan. Make a bloody decision!

  Lilieth froze, her heart beating a mile a minute.

  “Right now, my darling white wyvern is wreaking hell above,” Lyanne threatened. “It won’t be long before it destroys the district. You don’t have all day. Hand over Cynthia Kastrionis.”

  Lilieth’s hands were shaking. She could feel Cynth’s small, terrified breaths against her chest.

  “Tethys—”

  “Don’t,” Tethys said hoarsely, shaking her head as much as she could with what limited movement she had in Lyanne’s grasp.

  Lilieth understood. Tethys would rather die than let a child be killed in her place.

  That shouldn’t bloody matter! Just do it!

  “Tick-tock, everyone!” the Flockmother growled. “I’m not the patient type!”

  What should I do? Lilieth thought. What spells can I ... no, I don’t have any mana left. Weapons? Tools? What do I ...

  Lilieth met Tethys’ eyes. The woman smiled at her.

  “Take care of Irene,” she whispered.

  Tethys pulled out a shard of glass from her pocket and cut Lyanne’s wrist. It didn’t sink very deep, but it was painful enough that the Flockmother cried out in pain and pulled her hand away—dropping Tethys.

  No!

  Lilieth ran, shoving Cynth into Sibeiya’s arms as she sprinted forward.

  Everything seemed to slow down as she reached out. She grabbed Tethys’ hand. For half a heartbeat, she felt relieved at having reached her in time.

  Memories flooded into her head like a torrent.

  Lilieth held on as tightly as she could, but the force of the fall yanked down on her arm with brutal suddenness. Something in her shoulder tore free with a wet, sickening pop.

  Agony exploded through her, nearly shutting down every sense she had.

  Before she knew it, she was seeing Tethys fall down the hole, her arm stretched out.

  Lilieth wanted to scream.

  Jump after her!

  Markosh’s voice was like nails upon a chalkboard.

  Jump, damn you! SAVE HER!

  Her vision was dimming. She was losing too much blood. She could hear someone call out her name, but even that was fading away. She gazed at the abyss below, and she felt her entire body stiffen up. Even if she had all her strength … even if she wasn’t injured …

  … Even if she could fly, she knew she could never jump in after her.

  I can’t.

  That was her only response.

  The last thing she felt before dying was a tear falling down her cheek.