The captain finished, and the words had no room for doubt: “They’ll pay for it.”

  Lunaris’s boots skidded on the marble as she backed toward a hallway, cloak tugging behind her. The sock fluttered stubbornly on the mantle, its threads soaked with a haze until even it was out of breath.

  “Back, back,” she called, forcing steadiness into her tone. “Chokepoint, now!”

  Yuki obeyed in a flash, one hand tugging Phèdre by the sleeve, the other already weaving pale mirrors that sprang into existence like shards of glass suspended midair. The light refracted through the smoke, scattering it into distorted shapes. The guards hesitated just long enough for Lunaris to plant herself at the hallway’s mouth, blades up.

  Phèdre raised her hand, murmuring a spell, a light flaring along her fingertips. She pressed it forward as if she could simply will a path open into the treasure corridor beyond.

  The light shattered.

  Lunaris flinched as a soundless pulse struck the hallway. Her skin prickled; her stomach turned cold. Phèdre gasped, stumbling back as if shoved by invisible hands. The air itself gleamed faintly, solid, humming with runes she couldn’t see.

  “A ward,” Phèdre hissed, clutching her wrist as if the recoil had burned her. “A wall. The corridor is sealed.”

  Of course it was.

  A deep laugh rolled through the hall. Captain Malik strode to the front of the guard line, halberd gripped tight. His armor caught the light even through the smoke, filigree glowing like molten gold.

  “There is no path forward,” he announced. His voice filled the chamber, echoing off the cracked marble and dangling chandeliers. “You entered through fire and smoke, thinking chaos would make you ghosts. But here, in this hall, you are trapped like slaverats. The wards woke when you blasted the door. The only exit is through us.”

  The guards slammed their halberds against shields in unison, a metallic thunder that rattled her teeth.

  Lunaris forced a smile, though her chest felt like it had been crushed by the invisible wall along with Phèdre. “We don’t have to do this!” she called out, raising her rapier like a pointer. “You’ll ruin your very fancy armor, and I’ll… um, probably ruin my hair, and nobody’s happy. How about we all take a break? Tea? Biscuits?”

  Malik’s expression didn’t move. “Chains or corpses. Choose.”

  The line advanced.

  The first halberd thrust at her chest, straight and disciplined. Her Mistrael batted it wide, rapier stabbing into the gap it left. Armor clanged, a grunt sounded, but the guard didn’t fall.

  He only leaned harder, shield pressing in.

  Another halberd came from her left. She ducked, but the haft clipped her shoulder with bone-rattling force. Pain sparked down her arm. She gasped, teeth clenching, and countered with a desperate twist of her rapier.

  [Paradox Slash] pulsed.

  The strike landed twice in the same moment. One in the now, one in a sliver of possible time. The guard staggered back with a roar, blood spraying from a wound that bypassed his armor. For a moment, relief surged through her. She could carve them down one by—

  Another slammed into her side.

  The shield wall had filled the gap before the first man even fell. She stumbled, caught herself, swung high… only for a halberd butt to smash against her ribs.

  Stars burst across her vision.

  “Lunaris!” Phèdre’s voice woke her from her stupor. Healing warmth swept over her side, dulling the pain, stitching torn flesh closed.

  Her health bar rose… then dropped again as another blade nicked her thigh. She hissed, shoving it aside with her Mistrael, stabbing blindly with her rapier just to make space.

  Too many. Too close. Too disciplined.

  “I wanted a duel,” she gasped, breath ragged. “Not—” she twisted, parried, spun “—a halberd buffet!”

  A breathless laugh escaped her, but the guards didn’t laugh back.

  Steel rang against steel, boots slammed against marble, the rhythm of a war machine swallowing her in its grinding teeth. She ducked one thrust, deflected another, only to be rammed by a shield that drove her back against the side wall. The impact rattled her bones. Her lungs screamed.

  “Push!” Malik roared, voice like iron.

  They surged together, shields a living wall, halberds striking in seamless tempo. She barely had space to breathe, let alone strike. Her blades flashed like twin ribbons, darting at gaps, but every wound she carved seemed meaningless. Another guard always filled the space.

  Blood slicked her fingers. She wasn’t even sure whose.

  A halberd grazed her cheek, opening a shallow line that burned as blood mingled with sweat. Another thrust tore across her pauldron, metal shrieking against steel. She twisted, but the tip still bit her collarbone.

  “Hold still, damn you!” Phèdre cried. Her hands were frantic, weaving green light again and again, but the healing felt slower, weaker. The cuts sealed just enough to stop her from collapsing, but not enough to truly recover.

  “Merde! You’re bleeding faster than I can close it; I’m not Fty,” Phèdre spat, sweat dripping down her brow. “I’m a battle healer!”

  “You’re doing fine!” Lunaris shouted, even as her knees buckled under another shield-bash. She spun, Mistrael catching a halberd just before it split her skull. The force numbed her arm. She stabbed with her rapier on reflex, grinning madly at the clang it made against steel. “Okay, maybe not fine—ow—but, you know, alive-ish!”

  Alive-ish.

  Her health bar screamed down to half, then to a quarter. “If you stop healing me, I won’t drink that mystery energy drink!” Phèdre forced it back to a third. Another blow sent it skidding lower.

  Yuki darted forward, mirrors flashing, light bursting into the eyes of two guards at once. They flinched, shields raised too high, and Lunaris slipped through the gap for a moment, rapier darting into one, Mistrael slashing at another. Both fell, staggering with shallow wounds.

  But then the formation closed again, and Yuki was forced back, dragging Phèdre behind her.

  “I can’t hold them!” Yuki shouted. Her voice cracked, frustration plain. She summoned another mirror, shattered it into shards that blinded a halberd strike, but the pressure didn’t ease. “They’re endless!”

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  “They’re disciplined,” Malik corrected, voice cold as he stepped behind his men. His eyes were calm. He hadn’t raised his halberd once. He didn’t need to. “You are not a duelist here. You are meat for the line.”

  The words struck harder than the halberds.

  Her rapier slipped under one guard’s visor, blood spraying warm across her wrist. She gritted her teeth and pushed him back. Her Mistrael parried another, sparks screaming from the steel. She stumbled, half-falling, cloak torn at the edge. The sock fluttered madly, as if protesting her foolishness.

  She was bleeding everywhere now… her arm, her thigh, her side. Cuts shallow and deep. Her health bar flickered like a candle in the wind.

  Phèdre’s voice shook as she tried again. “Stop fighting alone, Luna! I cannot—cannot—” Her chant faltered as another wound tore open across Lunaris’ ribs. She shoved healing into it anyway, desperation bleeding through her tone.

  “I can’t stop!” Lunaris gasped, spinning into another strike. Her blades whirled, silver arcs that clashed against the wall of purple-etched steel. “If I stop, they’ll cut you down!” Her grin broke into a grimace. She was shaking, muscles screaming, breath ragged.

  Her rapier trembled in her grip, her Mistrael heavy as stone.

  The guards didn’t tire. Their boots thundered in unison, shields pressed close, halberds stabbing in perfect rhythm. Every time she carved one down, another filled the space.

  Every second was bought with blood.

  Her vision blurred, sweat stinging her eyes, smoke clinging to her throat. Her health bar dipped again, dangerously low, with only a sliver left. Phèdre’s light pulsed, trying to patch it, but it flickered, rising only slightly before another strike carved it away.

  “You owe me a kiss,” Phèdre whispered, her voice breaking. “But I can’t save you anymore.”

  “You are saving me!” Lunaris insisted, her laugh turning hoarse. Her blades swung wide, desperate, her stance loosening. “Just—ow—maybe not fast enough!”

  Her cloak shredded under another strike. Her mantle flared faintly, nudging her to duck an instant before a halberd could split her head. She gasped, stumbled, stabbed in reflex.

  The sock still fluttered… absurd, loyal, ridiculous. But she technically was the last undefeated Left Sock Division member.

  Her knees buckled.

  The world narrowed to steel, blood, and breath. Still, she fought, because if she fell, they fell with her, because she wasn’t done yet.

  The floor shook as if the world itself had been punched. Marble tiles cracked underfoot, chandeliers rattled against their chains, and dust cascaded from the ceiling like shaken flour. Lunaris staggered, blades raised, blinking against the sudden rush of smoke and fire that belched from deeper in the Auction House.

  Then came the delighted yell.

  “Don’t mind if I do!” Scamantha’s voice was like a child unwrapping chaos. It was followed by the unmistakable sound of coins raining in sheets. Clink-clink-clink, spilling like applause down the halls.

  Lunaris’s mouth went dry. Oh stars, she’s already in the treasure room.

  Across the hall, Captain Malik’s head snapped toward the noise. His jaw clenched, eyes narrowing between her battered stance and the door that led outward.

  “Turn off the runes,” he barked.

  One of the guards broke formation immediately, sprinting for the side passage to the control room. The others tightened their shields around him, halberds bristling.

  Lunaris forced her blades higher, her arms aching, body screaming. “Ohhh, you don’t want to go in the control room,” she tried, voice wobbling despite her grin. “It’s, um, full of… cats. Really angry cats.”

  Malik didn’t even glance at her.

  Moments later, a scream ripped from the control room. Not the loud shout of a man in battle… an unholy shriek of someone being roasted alive. The guard stumbled back into view, armor blackened and curling, his body little more than ash wrapped in steel. His voice was a croak, broken, desperate.

  “They… scrambled the runes…” He collapsed into a heap of smoke and metal.

  A peel of laughter rang through the vault. Scamantha again. “Robbing you blind, guards!”

  Malik’s teeth ground audibly. He ripped his halberd from the marble and hurled it aside; the weapon clattering to the floor. When he drew his sword, the sound was different.. an edge that hummed with enchantment.

  “This farce ends now,” he snarled. “Men! With me!”

  The shield wall lurched forward.

  The press was immediate, suffocating. Ten halberds jabbed in unison, the formation like a machine of steel and muscle. Malik walked just behind them, his presence anchoring their rhythm, his sword raised high.

  Lunaris spun her rapier in a tight flourish, the motion more to steady her nerves than to impress. Okay, Luna. One duel, ten opponents. Same thing. Just… way more stabby.

  Her Mistrael caught the first thrust, knocking it wide. Her rapier darted after, needling into a joint seam, but the guard didn’t falter. Shields slammed, forcing her back into the narrow hallway. She hissed, twisting to parry another thrust, her cloak flaring with every frantic spin.

  Behind her, Phèdre raised her staff again, trying to weave combat magic. Her magic sparked, flared… then shattered against an invisible force. She cursed, voice high with panic. “The wards are still active! We can’t get through! Scamantha, tell the guards how to open it!”

  Lunaris risked a glance back just long enough to see the wall shimmer faintly. Phèdre’s face pinched with strain as the recoil knocked her to one knee.

  Malik laughed, the sound cold. “Your teammate abandoned you. There is no escape.”

  “Okay!” Scamantha sounded so giddy. “All runes are reversed,” she yelled while there was dissting sound of treasury being liberated. “Tell them to enter wrong password, not the correct one!”

  [Paradox Slash] was finally off the cooldown.

  Halberds jabbed again. Lunaris ducked, barely avoiding the steel tips. She darted forward, her rapier glowing… [Paradox Slash] pulsed through her arm, and her blade struck twice in the same instant. The guard before her screamed, staggered, fell.

  “Yes!” she gasped, exhilaration surging—

  “Captain!” a voice called from the control room.

  Lunaris blinked as three more guards appeared, grinning despite the chaos. One raised his fist in triumph. “The wrong password worked!”

  Then the wall shimmered… once, twice and collapsed completely. The wards fell with a groaning sigh, opening the treasury corridor wide.

  From inside came a cascade of coins, followed by Scamantha’s shriek of joy: “Wheeeeee!”

  The guards’ faces dropped. Their laughter died instantly.

  “Oh,” Lunaris muttered, ducking another halberd strike. “Good job, dear guards~”

  Malik’s roar drowned everything. His fury shook the marble. He moved like no one she had ever fought before. His first strike knocked her back three steps, her arms numbed by the sheer weight of his blade. She spun, parried desperately, and still he was faster.

  Every duel she’d fought until now had rhythm, tempo, gaps she could slip through. Malik gave her none. His sword carved arcs wide enough to crush two guards at once, yet he never lost precision. Every cut forced her to the edge of disaster.

  I need to be even faster! I need speed!

  She ducked low, slid under a swing, came up with a thrust… and he batted it away with contemptuous ease. His boot slammed into her stomach, hurling her back against a side wall. The breath left her chest in a gasp.

  “Girl,” he growled, stepping forward, “you may have survived fodder. Against me, you fall.”

  Her knees wobbled. I’m so doomed.

  A halberd lunged at her from the side… Yuki’s mirror flared just in time, deflecting the strike. “Move, Luny!” Yuki shouted, her voice weak with strain. She grabbed Lunaris’s cloak, yanking her aside as Malik’s sword slammed into the floor where her skull had been a heartbeat earlier.

  Marble exploded in shards.

  “Thanks!” Lunaris wheezed, stumbling back into stance. “Nearly got de-headed!”

  “Nearly got dead!” Yuki snapped, mirrors flickering around them as she pulled Phèdre further behind.

  They bolted.

  Lunaris half-stumbled, half-ran through the corridor, sock fluttering wildly, blades heavy in her hands. Yuki covered their flank with flashing mirrors, Phèdre clutching her robes as she gasped out healing light.

  The treasury was wreckage incarnate.

  Pedestals toppled, marble scattered in dunes, walls cracked wide open. One entire side had collapsed outward, the city visible through a hole big enough for a giant to walk through. The air reeked of smoke, saltpeter, and scorched silk.

  And in the middle of it all was Scamantha.

  She was laughing, shoulders shaking, hair wild in the firelight. A hunk of fused gold was cradled in her arms like a newborn, still glowing faintly. Her grin was bright enough to outshine the flames. “All gold here is a quest prop, useless to us, but… still something!”

  Guards surged into the corridor after them. Scamantha barely looked their way. She tossed a vial lazily over her shoulder.

  The potion hit the marble and detonated into fire hotter than the sun. Guards shrieked as their armor melted, bodies dissolving into nothing. The smell was of iron and burnt leather, and the hallway sealed itself in a curtain of roaring flame.

  Lunaris gagged, tears stinging her eyes. She staggered into the ruined vault and then outside through the hole, coughing.

  And there, blessedly, was Ian. He was pale as parchment, hands tight on the cart’s reins. Relief cracked through her exhaustion. She stumbled to him, wrapped her arms around his chest, sock trailing across the cart rail. “Oh stars, we lived,” she breathed.

  Behind her, the bronzies stared wide-eyed into the molten vault, their awe mingled with terror. Yuki leaned against the wall, panting, while Phèdre collapsed into a sitting heap, robes scorched.

  Lunaris straightened, battered, bloodied, grin trembling on her lips. She raised her blades, sock fluttering like the laziest banner in Rimelion.

  “One treasure liberated,” she declared, voice hoarse but bright. “Three more to go.”