Three weeks later..

  We arrived only two miles away from Hasfra, and I could see the city in the distance, cloaked beneath a steel-grey sky. The massive stone walls, chiseled and worn from centuries of northern wind, had snow piling on their upper ridges like white battlements. Frost coated the bare trees nearby, their branches bowing with the weight of the storm that had followed us for days. Our breath misted in the air, each step crunching beneath thick layers of ice and hardened snow. Our food supplies were running low—just a few servings of salted meat and half-frozen bread—so I was relieved to finally see the silhouette of Hasfra breaking the horizon like a promise of warmth.

  Caleb stretched his right arm, rotating his shoulder with a faint pop. Eyes squinting into the cold, but the stiffness in his movements betrayed the fatigue gnawing at all of us. None of us are used to this. "Both of you, be wary. If intelligence is correct, us three will face Ewan, Zion, Toda, and Geralt."

  Finn didn’t flinch at the names, but the sharpness in his eyes deepened. He seriously declared, "Toda is mine."

  I didn’t need to ask why. Caleb had told me a week back—Toda had killed Finn’s wife in the first war. Brutally, too. It was something Caleb didn’t speak of often, but the grim weight in his voice when he first told me said enough. I could understand why Finn wanted blood. Revenge changes people, and maybe that’s why he's so sadistic now, like pain is the only language he still understands.

  Caleb continued, rubbing warmth into his gloved hands. His voice had the edge of calculation. "Not so much Finn I guess. More so you, Vellin. You're the weakest Flame."

  I blinked and turned toward him, snowflakes dusting my hood. "Is that meant to be an insult?"

  He waved his hands quickly, his tone shifting trying to ease the blow. "No, no. You're plenty strong. But by my calculations, all of them rank in the top ten strongest known fighters alive. You're still young, and you have a bit more to grow, physically."

  I clenched my jaw. I understood where he was coming from—he wasn’t wrong—but I couldn’t let doubt fester now. Not here, not this close. I tried to quell his worries with a thin smile. "I have Unconscious God to help me, remember?"

  Finn laughed. A short, sharp sound at first, then louder. His shoulders shook, and he kept laughing for at least ten seconds, actually tearing up. When he finally wiped a tear from his eye, the cold made the moisture glisten like crystal. "That shouldn't be relied on. Before your parents died, it was activated. That curse put a beating on me and Leo, but they destroyed their own bodies in the process."

  You...

  My fists clenched, and my breath came out heavier. I let my killing intent leak, subtle but focused.

  Finn crooked his head slightly, his amused smirk fading into something colder. "You sure you wanna go down that route?"

  His killing intent surged forward like a tidal wave, heavy and suffocating, pressing against me like a mountain of pressure. But I did not give in. My own aura flared in return, not as immense, not as practiced—but resolute. I wouldn’t yield, not to him, not to you.

  Our escort brought the carriage to a sudden halt, snow crunching under the wooden wheels as it skidded slightly against the icy road. The driver turned his head just enough for his voice to carry back to us through the thin veil of frost curling from his lips.

  "We're here. I can't get closer without being in significant danger."

  Finn and I eased up, letting our killing intent dissipate into the frigid air like mist. Caleb nodded silently, and all three of us stepped out onto the frozen ground. The cold bit at my ankles through my cold-resistant tennis shoes, and the wind immediately knifed through my jacket. The carriage didn’t wait. The horses snorted, their breath steaming in the cold, and the driver quickly turned them around. Snow kicked up behind the wheels as they disappeared down the path, leaving us alone in the stillness.

  Finn looked up at the towering walls of Hasfra and exhaled like he’d been waiting for this moment far too long. His lips curled into a grin, part anticipation, part madness. "It's time to go to work. Can't wait."

  I shook my head with a half-laugh and muttered, "You're a real nutcase, you know that?"

  Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.

  Finn's smile didn’t fade, but his tone grew heavier as he warned me, "If Jane ever... unfortunately... dies, you'll understand."

  Without waiting for a response, Finn started walking forward, hands tucked into his pockets, body tilted back with that same unnerving calm. His boots slid slightly on the slick ground, but he kept his balance easily. I found myself wondering how his Flash technique would behave on snow and ice—if it would be faster, or if the frictionless surface would disrupt his movement entirely.

  Up above, a bell suddenly began to toll, loud and jarring against the silence. The sound echoed through the valley, and I saw shadows moving along the ramparts. The guards had spotted us.

  Caleb’s instincts kicked in immediately. He braced his legs and took a solid stance, the muscles in his arms tensing as he summoned the reinforcement aura. A faint shimmer ran along his skin like heat mirage. "Prepare for archer fire. Get behind me."

  Without hesitation, Finn moved to stand back-to-back with Caleb, his grin still intact. He rolled his shoulders casually, as if this were routine. "What? Caleb is immune to darksteel, at least when reinforced."

  I blinked, caught off guard by the nonchalance of it. I stood there for a moment, dumbfounded. The cold wind howled past us as we waited. Seconds passed. Then a minute. Then two. Still no arrows fell. No cries of alarm. No orders shouted. I looked up again and realized—the catwalks were empty.

  Not a single guard remained in sight.

  Caleb’s expression tightened. He stepped forward and tapped Finn lightly on the top of his head. "It's not coming."

  Finn didn’t turn around. His eyes remained closed, his body still relaxed, but his voice lowered, a touch more serious now. "Something else is coming."

  I looked to my right quickly, my instincts flaring—and yes, someone was coming. Emerging from behind the snow-covered gate was a towering figure, unmistakable even at a distance. A large, blonde-haired man strode toward us, his steps heavy but unhurried, a glacier moving under its own gravity. His long hair flowed behind him, windswept and untamed, while his cyan tribal clothing clung to his powerful frame in stark contrast against the bleak, white snow.

  He was taller than Caleb by a few inches, with thinner shoulders and a more primal presence. His eyes drooped lazily, almost sleepy, but I could sense the intense weight of awareness behind them. A massive, tinted axe rested diagonally across his lower back, its head partially wrapped in thick cloth.

  Then it hit me—that aura. It rippled off of him like a wave of pressure, heavy and ancient. My chest tightened.

  That aura... it's on par with Caleb's!

  Caleb narrowed his eyes as recognition dawned. His voice was firm, but tinged with something close to respect—or maybe caution. "That's the Titan of the North, Ewan."

  Ewan stopped just a dozen paces away, planting his boots firmly into the snow like he owned the land beneath him. Maybe he did. His voice boomed across the cold air, deep and steady, as he announced, "I will not allow you to enter my city."

  Finn, ever fearless and reckless, raised a brow and smirked. He couldn’t help himself. "Isn't it Obsidian's?"

  You want to anger that man?! My heart jumped slightly at Finn’s boldness. Ewan didn’t seem surprised. Instead, he slowly lifted a hand and pointed toward Finn, tone cool and unwavering. "Maybe. But when you—"

  He shifted his finger toward me. "You."

  Then to Caleb. "And you die, the city will be freed, and so will my people."

  Finn curled his fingers into a tight fist, his smirk sharpening into something colder. "You think you can take all three of us? You would barely beat Vellin." Thanks for the vote of confidence.

  The tension in the air coiled tighter.

  Ewan calmly reached back and began to pull out his axe, the sound of metal scraping against cloth echoing like the warning growl of a beast. "I'm only going to stop one of you. The other two can pass."

  I dropped low instinctively, shifting into a fighting stance with a spear-hand ready to strike. I felt adrenaline surge in my blood. "Finn, I'll take him on and prove you wrong."

  Finn glanced back at me with a wicked grin. "I like that."

  Before I could step forward, a firm hand tapped my shoulder. I turned to find Caleb beside me, his expression serious and grounded. "Don't fall for provocations. I'll take him on and catch up."

  Finn was already moving. "Sure, buddy!"

  He sprinted off without hesitation, boots kicking snow behind him as he moved with terrifying speed. He veered perpendicular to Ewan’s line of sight and then—without warning—leapt clean over the gate in a single, fluid motion. Ewan didn’t even flinch. His focus was completely fixed on Caleb, like no one else even existed.

  I sighed, part reluctant, part relieved. "Alright." I chased after Finn and jumped the gate as well, landing lightly on the other side. I turned once, catching a glimpse of Caleb as he and Ewan stood just a few paces apart, two legends about to collide.

  "Very honorable, but what isn't honorable is condemning the four hundred men's families." I knew what he meant. Every soldier we fought and killed had people waiting for them—wives, children, parents, friends. Even if they are innocents, that guilt won't slow me down.

  I wanted to tell him that we weren’t here to kill indiscriminately, that I had a plan. However, Ewan’s stance, the fire in his aura, and the tightness in his eyes told me otherwise—he wouldn’t listen. Not to reason. Not to mercy. He was steadfast, a wall of belief unshaken by anything but force.

  And then his killing intent spiked.

  It hit like a shockwave. My breath hitched for a second. When's the last time I felt this, with only one opponent?

  I responded in kind.

  My right arm pulsated with heat, and with power. A deep thrum traveled through my veins, focusing itself in my hand as I stepped forward, extending my arm outward. I kept my fingers open, palm forward, ready to grab and counter whatever came my way. I locked eyes with him, unflinching.

  "I'll give you a quick death."