“Eat tis’! [Judgment]!” Katherine shouted.

  The blade fell in a line so true the world seemed to pause to admire it. It struck the golem from crown to crotch, and for a moment nothing happened… then a thin line of daylight appeared where stone had been.

  The line widened with a sound like ice splitting on a lake at thaw. The golem sagged along that cut and came apart, halves shearing away to crash down in twin avalanches. Dust rose in a pillar. Shards rattled down the slope like rain on an iron roof.

  “Wh… who are you?!” the leader shouted, incredulousness cracking into his voice at last.

  Katherine looked up through the drifting dust, chest heaving, face lit with blood and triumph. She opened her mouth to say something, something simple and perfect, Fty was sure, something like the Juggernaut, and a second volley found her.

  Three arrows struck in a heartbeat’s chord: one in the meat of the upper arm, one under the rib, one low into the thigh. Another two grazed, burning tracks that smoked where Lisa’s heat kissed them.

  She wobbled.

  She tried to take a step forward as if tension alone could hold her together. The ground wavered underneath. She smiled—why was she smiling?—and then the weight of power unpaid dragged her down. Her sword bit the ground and toppled with her, a last metallic complaint.

  “I need help,” Yuki whispered. One of her mirrors showed him his own face, pinched and furious. She bled; she still raised the next shield because Lisa’s back was to her again, because the leader’s archers were adjusting aim.

  “Stay with me,” he told her a second time, and this time it was a promise.

  He lifted his staff and poured power into Yuki like water into a cracked jar, not caring if it leaked, caring only that he kept attempting to fill it. Flesh knit under his will in ugly seams; blood slowed; breath steadied. He layered a veil over her sight to keep panic small. “Three more breaths. Then you rise.”

  Lunaris slid in close, blades singing as she cut a stalker off Yuki’s throat. “Two breaths,” she corrected cheerfully, and made it true by intercepting the next strike with a parry that rang like a bell and turned the beast’s momentum into a stumble.

  Above, NightSwallow and the mini-boss vanished behind a tooth of rock and then reappeared three terraces over in a tumble that ended with the sound of a blade going into something that mattered. A hiss, a shudder. Fty didn’t look.

  If she had won, she’d be there when it counted.

  If she hadn’t, looking wouldn’t change it.

  “Archers left,” he said instead, hearing the angle of their draw more than seeing it. “Yuki—”

  “Mirror,” she breathed. The shield flashed into being at exactly the height of Lisa’s ribs. Two arrows hit and screamed into splinters.

  The bandit leader watched his pieces fail to move the way he imagined. A little crease appeared between his brows. He lifted his sword again, as if the pose could restore momentum.

  “Save your breath,” Fty murmured, voice a dull knife. He had no interest in a king’s monologue and less time to waste on it.

  He set his staff, drew a circle in the dust with the butt, and let his healing roll out along that line in a low, steady tide. The circle intersected Lunaris’s stance, Yuki’s knees, Lisa’s heels.

  The Cliff Stalkers tested and retreated, burned whiskers and cut tendons teaching caution. The leader’s smile thinned at the edges, the way smiles do when they are asked to do more work than teeth alone can manage.

  Katherine lay still, sword across her shins, dust settling in her hair like a pale crown.

  Fty did not look again.

  “Three breaths,” he repeated, and this time Yuki pushed up on the third, blood-slick, jaw set, eyes bright behind a film of pain and light. “Good,” he said, and meant it, and then, he added under his breath, “Hold a little longer.”

  The bandit leader lifted his sword for a second declaration.

  Fty anchored the circle, checked the pulse of the center, and moved to where the next wound would be before the enemy made it. The circle of wards hummed at his feet, a fragile heartbeat against the chaos. Lunaris bled but stood, Yuki’s light flickered but held, Lisa spat fire. For the first time since the stalkers had pounced, the battlefield felt steady.

  Then the bandit leader laughed.

  It was stupider this time. He leaned on his sword as if the fight beneath him were a stage play, and he the only one who knew the ending. “Boys!” he bellowed. His grin showed every tooth. “They’re rich!”

  Movement in the rocks.

  From cracks, from gullies, from brush disguised as shadow, men rose… ragged armor, blades, axes, bows. Ten, maybe more, encircling the slope. They came in a half-ring, each step deliberate.

  “You won’t leave alive,” the leader promised. His blade caught the light as he raised it in salute. “And if you are immortal? Then we’ll still get your things.”

  The Cliff Stalkers noticed first.

  Their ears pricked, tails twitching as if the leader’s call had carried more than words. The moment the bandits rose from their hiding places, the cats turned from Fty’s battered formation to the fresher, nearer prey. A ripple of intent rolled through them… predators recognizing a new threat.

  One hissed, claws scraping rock. Another crouched low, pupils narrowing to slits. And then they pounced.

  The ridge erupted into chaos.

  A Cliff Stalker crashed into the flank of an archer before he could loose his bowstring. The man screamed as claws shredded his shield arm, his arrow vanishing into the sky. Another stalker leapt down from above and tore into a swordsman’s shoulder, armor squealing under the weight. The bandits’ half-circle shattered as their careful encirclement dissolved into panic.

  It gave Yuki something she hadn’t had all fight: time.

  She staggered behind Lisa, who spat flames to keep stray arrows off them, and dropped to her knees, palms braced on the dirt. Her sword lay flat across her thighs. For once she didn’t try to force her light into shields; she closed her eyes, let the glow seep back into her skin instead of into the air. Fty felt it even as he scanned for targets: a soft surge, like breathing after nearly drowning. Her pulse steadied under his healer’s sense.

  He allowed himself one exhale of relief.

  Not much more than that, because the bandits recovered fast.

  “Shields!” one barked, and men slammed together into tight knots, rectangular boards locking shoulder to shoulder. Arrows bristled above them in disciplined ranks.

  The bandits weren’t fools. They let the Cliff Stalkers savage their exposed, but the rest huddled behind wood and iron, advancing step by step, loosing shafts whenever they saw a gap. Arrows hissed down in constant peppering fire.

  Lisa growled, flicking flame to slap one arrow aside, another, but a third found her hip, scraping across her leg before burning out in her aura. Lunaris lifted her longsword to parry one shot for Yuki, but another glanced her shoulder, leaving a bloody groove. Even Fty felt the pressure as shafts thudded into his barrier, humming along the ward-line like angry bees.

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  He had to keep them together. He had to—

  A blink of text flickered across his vision, cutting into the storm.

  Fty’s heart stuttered. He whipped his gaze around the battlefield, but there was no sign of her…only empty air. He forced his hand steady and sent the reply:

  He didn’t understand. He didn’t need to. He had trusted her with more than this.

  “Yuki!” he barked.

  Her eyes snapped open, light glowing faintly in her pupils.

  “Gather Kit’s things.”

  She blinked, clearly not expecting that order, then looked toward Katherine’s things, her sword and pack scattered nearby.

  “You’re hard to hit,” Fty added dryly. “Prove it.”

  Yuki’s mouth curved in a shaky grin, blood still dripping from her shoulder. “Roger!” She pushed off the ground, light flickering around her again, and darted toward Katherine’s fallen gear, weaving between arrows with near-suicidal daring.

  Meanwhile, Lunaris broke formation.

  She darted low, blades at her side, and ran… not at the bandits, but under the cliff where the leader still stood. Fty saw her only for a moment before she slipped under the shadow of the rocks, quicksilver grace carrying her out of his sight.

  He didn’t know why. But his instincts screamed this was the hinge. He raised his staff and sent one of his last buffs streaking her way… a thin cord of speed and protection, catching her before she vanished from sight.

  Above the leader, movement stirred. Fty’s healer’s sense caught it first: something predatory, a pulse of killing intent. He narrowed his eyes. Behind the leader, among the shadows clinging to the ridge—

  The miniboss.

  The Cliff Stalker larger than the rest, scarred across its muzzle, gold eyes burning with malice. And there—NightSwallow, dagger in hand, lunging for the man’s spine.

  “Behind—!” Fty shouted, but the words were lost in the storm.

  The bandit leader spun faster than a brigand had any right to, sword sweeping in a brutal arc to catch her.

  And then the cat moved.

  The mini-boss launched, a blur of scaled muscle. The rogue dodged, and the mini-boss’ body slammed into the leader with a bone-rattling crash. Sword, man, beast… all toppled together over the rocks. They hit the slope in a snarling tangle, dirt and stone exploding outward.

  Every sound froze.

  Bandits gaped. Players stared. Even the Cliff Stalkers paused, their instincts confused by predator and prey suddenly intertwined.

  The bandit leader rolled, furious and bleeding, half-buried under the limp form of the mini-boss that had taken the brunt of the fall. His sword skittered out of reach across the stone.

  And then a shadow appeared beside it.

  NightSwallow.

  She gave the blade a neat little kick. Steel spun once in the air, end over end, and flew straight to Lunaris, who caught it with both hands. The weapon hummed, a legendary sword in a dancer’s grasp.

  NightSwallow’s grin flashed. “Gift from Scamantha.” Then she dissolved back into the rocks, gone before anyone could question it.

  The bandit leader staggered to his feet, eyes darting wildly between his empty hand, the almost-dead Cliff Stalker beside him, and Lunaris now running back down toward Fty’s group with his stolen sword.

  “What—what did she mean?!” he snarled. Confusion cracked through his bravado. But even confused, his voice carried command. “Get them!”

  The words had barely left his mouth when the world cracked.

  An enormous explosion ripped across the top of the cliff. Flame and dust burst upward, boulders tearing free with a thunderous groan. Rock sheared off in slabs, rolling, bouncing, splitting into avalanches.

  The cliff was falling.

  “RUN!” Fty roared. His voice cut through every mind like a blade. He turned, seized Lisa’s arm, shoved Yuki forward, waved Lunaris in… no time to think, no time to check.

  Just move.

  Behind them, the bandit leader’s shout was lost under the roar of collapsing stone.

  The cliff gave way above them.

  Stone screamed as it tore loose, and boulders came down like the wrath of Saevrin. Dust exploded outward, choking the air, turning the world into a blur of gray and thunder. “Move!” Fty shouted, his voice raw. He shoved Lisa forward with one hand, pulling the circle of wards tight around what was left of them.

  Arrows no longer mattered… only gravity did.

  They ran.

  Boots skidded over loose shale, slipping on slopes suddenly alive beneath their feet. Each impact rattled Fty’s teeth, each crashing boulder throwing shards sharp enough to cut like blades. Bandits screamed as stone crushed their shields, their bodies. Cliff Stalkers howled, scrambling sideways, tails lashing as they fled with the same feral instinct.

  For once, predators and prey ran together.

  Fty forced his eyes forward, not up… because looking up meant seeing death before it hit. Still, every vibration in the earth told him how close it was. The air itself grew heavier, full of pulverized stone.

  Then he heard it: the sharp, desperate cry of Lunaris.

  She had fallen behind.

  Fty’s head whipped back. Her lower level! Through the haze he saw her sprinting with blades still in hand, her posture graceful even in panic. And behind her, faster, the bandit leader. His boots bit into the slope with veteran’s precision, his eyes lit by fury and obsession.

  He was closing.

  “Lunaris!” Fty bellowed, but the sound vanished under the avalanche’s roar. She glanced back anyway and saw him on her heels. Her expression hardened.

  Then fate intervened. A boulder the size of a wagon split from the ridge above, slamming down. It crashed into both of them… leader and Lunaris swallowed in one violent impact.

  Fty’s heart lurched into his throat. He didn’t think, didn’t plan; he threw his hand out, forcing a healing surge through the dust. Green light arced like a lifeline, catching her aura before it winked out.

  Shapes staggered out of the dust. The leader rose first, blood running down his arm. Lunaris rose opposite him, her hair wild, eyes narrowed to slits. She twisted on her heel and shouted—

  “[Paradox Slash]!”

  Fty groaned aloud, even mid-run. Why do they all yell their skills as if the enemies need a fair warning?

  But what happened next wasn’t anything he’d expected.

  Her rapier and longsword both slashed; one strike in the moment, silver and true. And another, ghostly, delayed by no time at all… appeared from a possible future, lancing across the bandit’s torso like a second reality insisting on itself.

  The bandit leader staggered, shock flashing across his face as both wounds opened. His armor might as well have been parchment to the second cut. Blood sprayed across the stone.

  The mountain wasn’t done.

  A massive boulder, larger than the one before, tore free and plummeted toward them. It hit with a crack like the sky itself breaking, pulverizing stone and flesh beneath it. The dust blast threw Fty back a step, his wards flaring in protest.

  His eyes went wide. No… not now.

  And then—

  Her afterimage flickered once, then vanished.

  Fty’s healer’s sense caught the echo: the slip in time, the swap, the impossible correction. She had let the boulder hit her… and then refused to let it stick.

  “Run!” he roared again.

  She didn’t need telling twice. Lunaris bolted back toward the group, her eyes still blazing, sword, the bandit’s sword, clutched tight in her grip.

  They ran as one. The avalanche howled down around them, but luck gave them space.

  Bandits screamed somewhere in the haze, their formation shattered, their archers buried under falling stone. Cliff stalkers scattered into cracks too small for men. The leader’s furious howl cut through the thunder, but it was distant, muffled under the chaos of stone.

  Fty didn’t look back. He pushed everything into the group ahead… Lisa’s stumbling stride, Yuki flickering, Lunaris limping but unbroken. He threw one last veil over them, muting their outlines in the haze, giving the falling mountain less to find.

  Minutes felt like hours. But eventually, the earth stopped trembling. The dust thinned. Their boots struck flatter ground again, the slope behind lost to ruin.

  And then there was nothing left in them.

  Fty’s legs folded without asking permission. He collapsed onto the grass at the foot of a ridge, his staff sliding from his fingers. The wards guttered out.

  Lisa toppled beside him, steam rising off her hair, her skin flushed red from heat and strain. She lay flat, arms spread, chest heaving. “Hot… too hot…” she groaned. The grass hissed under her, damp from her sweat.

  Yuki flopped onto her back, eyes closed. Arrows had nicked her everywhere; her robes looked like a pincushion. Thank Saevrin they have repairers on their ship. But her light still glimmered faintly, as if stubbornness alone refused to extinguish it.

  Lunaris dropped to one knee, panting, blades falling from her hands at last. “Two… more levels…” she breathed. Dust streaked her face, but her eyes shone with something new. She held up the stolen sword with trembling fingers.

  “This… is it.” Her voice cracked between triumph and grief. “The sword.”

  Fty raised his head with effort, blinking through the haze. The blade did not gleam as a legendary weapon should. Its edge was cracked; its spine bent with some flaw. Runes along its fuller flickered faintly, many shattered outright.

  “But…” Lunaris’s voice faltered. Her fingers tightened around the hilt. “System says it’s broken.”