“No, it’s fine, I can handle this,” he said, patting her head.

  “Ohhh, you said you wanted to ask something,” Sky replied as they moved through Veilwood.

  Dakota looked down, then stepped closer. “It’s a little sensitive.”

  “Mmmm, okay. We’ll talk about it while bathing. Good?”

  “Yes,” Dakota said, smiling.

  They continued toward their house—until the sound of voices made them slow down. An old woman’s voice, shaky, desperate.

  “Please… let her be. She’s the only one I have left,” she cried, tears running down her face.

  As they got closer, the scene became clear.

  An elderly woman—dark-skinned, long silky hair—was kneeling.

  Five men stood before her.

  Three white, two Black, all armed with swords.

  The man standing furthest back held a girl—wheatish complexion, average height, frail. She looked sick, her eyes closed, her long brown skirt dragging on the ground. Her head rested weakly against the arm that held her up.

  “My child… please help me. I… I don’t want to lose her,” the old woman cried, grabbing Ben’s leg.

  “You have no reason to intervene,” one of the white men said.

  Same silver armor as the other two—helmet off, but posture sharp.

  “After all,” the second man added, brushing white hair from his blue eyes, “you saw nothing.”

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  “It’s an old woman and a defenseless girl. You have no reason for this,” Ben said, staring them down.

  “Don’t talk like you know us,” one of them snapped.

  “Besides… you can just roll it over like you never saw a thing,” another added, sword raised just enough to make the message clear.

  “The old lady is crying for help,” Sky said. “Forgive me, but we can’t just roll it over.”

  “Why have one,” one of the men said with a grin, “when we can have both?”

  The one holding the girl squeezed her sharply—just enough to make the meaning disgusting.

  “The more the fight goes on, the more the girl overheats… if you know what I mean.”

  Sky reached into her little bag—the one similar to Azeya’s—and pulled out a sword.

  “Get the twins,” she told Ben. “I’ll handle these two. And please try not to get hurt.”

  Seeing Ben had no weapon, the twin brothers dropped theirs.

  “How about we beat you at your own game,” one said.

  “Then get your girl or sister after,” the other added with a smirk.

  One twin rushed Ben and threw a punch. Ben deflected, Sky smiling slightly at the display—

  —but just as Ben launched his counterpunch, the second twin came in with a clean kick to the chest.

  Ben flipped over the ground.

  “Hey—!” Sky shouted, starting to make her way to Ben.

  “Deal with them first,” Ben said, stopping her with a hand. “I’ll be fine.”

  Sky held his gaze a moment longer, clearly not happy, then turned away.

  ‘I have to make this quick,’ she thought.

  Ben got up, blocking a fist the next second, and threw his own punch.

  The twin tried to intercept, but Ben read their rhythm, now, he deflected the intercepting punch, swept the leg, and finished with a knee to the face.

  He dashed at the other brother, but just as he lifted his leg—

  a hand grabbed his ankle.

  Ben turned, too late, a punch smashed into his face, from the twin he was about to go for, flipping him again.

  Everything blurred—until Dakota’s voice cut through.

  “Are you fine?” she asked, the old woman also staring in worry.

  “Brother, you okay?” one twin asked.

  “Just caught me off guard—but I’m good,” the other said, his left eye red and swelling.

  “He’s slow on the legs,” the first twin said.

  “More of a heavy hitter. Build doesn’t match the style,” Red Eye added.

  “Let’s speed it up. He can’t block everything.”

  Before Ben fully reset himself, a punch slammed into his cheek but this time he only slid backward.

  He spotted a heavy swing incoming, stepped into the right angle, caught the arm, and used the man’s momentum to hit clean shoulder throw. Body slammed into the ground, shoulder dislocated, head hitting the earth hard.

  Red Eye roared, charging again.

  Two punches—Ben deflected both.

  A round kick came wild and fast—Ben ducked, but the follow-through forced him to raise both arms, blocking the shot towards his left ear , the force almost sending him flying towards the right.

  ‘My hand…’ he thought, feeling the numbness.

  Dakota, watching helplessly, grabbed a stone and threw it.

  It struck Red Eye’s shoulder—just enough, Ben took it.

  He tackled the twin, slammed him down, got on top but Red Eye punched, Ben blocked, swung back, missed—fist hitting the ground.

  Red Eye’s punch came left—Ben deflected, grabbed the arm mid-swing, locked it across the neck and used it to keep the twin’s head in place for the next few strikes which took out Red Eye.

  “Thanks, Dakota,” Ben breathed, standing slowly, left hand swelling and numb.

  He had a sensation in his mouth, when he spat, it was blood but something got his attention, across him.

  He saw her—the frail girl—sweating heavily now, her breaths shallow.

  The hand being held by her captor was turning red, almost burnt.

  ‘They’re both wielders,’ Sky confirmed, eyes narrowing at the swords beginning to glow with fire.