“…my brother?”

  “Your brother—yea. Let’s hear the fairytale.”

  “…Brother Riegt—” he shudders, fear twisting his voice “—he is the light of our family. A true heir.”

  “Oh, poor you—let me guess, he used to grind your face into the dirt. Real brotherly love.”

  His flinch at the mention says I’m right. Some memory just clawed its way to the surface.

  “Alright, my bad—‘a true heir,’ huh? That tied to your family’s… ability?”

  His eyes widen. Not just surprise—fear. Hard to read with his face so wrecked, but it’s there.

  “Yes… you know about our ability?”

  I lean in, voice casual, like we’re swapping gossip. “Oh? Let me guess—it’s something to do with… getting into people’s heads?”

  “The bloodline ability—how do you—”

  “Wrong game. I ask, you answer.”

  He shuts up quick.

  “Tell me more about this ability.”

  “…I really can’t—they—”

  I slam a fist into his ribs. He jerks, grunting.

  “That didn’t sound like an answer. Try again.”

  “Fine. It controls emotions in people—the stronger we are to them, the greater the effect.” He talks through the pain.

  “Cute. Keep talking.”

  “Riegt is the most proficient. And his other magic is—”

  “Let me guess—stronger, flashier, makes the family proud. Bet the reunions are fun.”

  “…Yes.”

  “Mm. Weakness?”

  “…I don’t know.”

  Another strike. He coughs blood into the dirt.

  “Not the kind of answer that keeps you breathing.”

  “I really don’t know.”

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  Feels like the truth.

  “Then tell me how it works. Maybe I’ll do the homework myself.”

  “…I don’t know that either.”

  “You don’t know your own bloodline ability? You’re practically the family’s decorative plant.”

  “…I don’t have it.”

  I grin. “Even better. Wouldn’t want you special.”

  That’s all I need from him.

  “Wait—you said you wouldn’t kill me!”

  “I said no such thing. And you didn’t give me shit.”

  “Wait, wait—”

  Lightning flares along my arm, tightening to a razor’s edge. I drive it clean through his neck. Bone and muscle part with a searing snap. His head thuds into the dirt.

  Got a few crumbs of intel. The rest? Trial and error—story of my life.

  I wonder if their bloodline ability connects to mine.

  But that’s a future problem. Right now, I’ve got to go die first.

  I hurry over and pick up my sword—lost during the fall.

  The weight of the blade settles into my hand—familiar, grounding.

  I stare into the treeline. Any moment now, “Riegt” will show up. This is going to take ages. I used to think Voi’s challenge was an exception—turns out it’s probably the rule.

  If only Swart or Koln could just hand me the answer. But no—apparently I have to get stronger. Good. Wouldn’t want it any other way… though I’d take a shortcut if it was lying around.

  I exhale, then inhale, bracing for whatever mental terror this man’s about to unleash.

  I don’t know how I’ll counter his psychological warfare or his raw power—but I will. Even if it takes forever. Because how dare someone mess with my emotions—my very perception. I’ve finally reached a place where I can feel—sincerely, in my own way, at my own pace.

  And now this man—Riegt—dares to twist what I’ve only just gotten. No matter how long it takes, I’ll make sure he pays the full price for it.

  I stare across the broken valley, earth scorched, smoke rising faintly from the little generosities we left behind.

  Behind me stands a hill with a walled fortress of stone laced with mana, a ward stretched thin over the air—a cathedral turned stronghold sheltering over four hundred desperate souls. My machine.

  In front, beyond the shattered earth, lies a treeline thick with life. Green canopies sprawl overhead, vines and underbrush choking the bases of the trees. The faint mist still clings shallowly to the valley floor.

  The world goes quiet. The mist holds still.

  From the treeline, a giant emerges—not in stature, but in presence. A man no taller than me, yet carrying the weight of one. His killing intent rolls over the valley and locks on me.

  I freeze. Breath caught.

  Blood runs cold.

  Eyes narrow.

  Sweat slides down my skin.

  An unnatural fear blooms—born of what I now know to be a bloodline ability.

  I lose control of my body, my mind drowning in fear.

  He walks at the same slow, deliberate pace—toward his disgraced brother—eyes flooded with disdain, as if everything here is beneath him.

  Each step crunches against the scorched earth, the sound sharp in the dead air.

  All I can hear is him, and the stench of death that seems to coat the valley. Maybe my mind’s inventing it just to drive the point home: this will most certainly be my demise.

  I clutch my sword until my knuckles go white—my face, probably the same shade.

  Riez said the stronger they are to you, the worse it hits. Guess that wasn’t an exaggeration.

  I know he’s pulling a trick, but the effect still sticks. He can’t reach my deeper consciousness. Good to know… not that it’s helpful.

  He looms over his brother’s body, makes it vanish, then turns his attention to me—eyes glaring straight through.

  He walks over, dreadfully slow.

  I will every ounce of my being into motion, but my body stays locked, mana retreating. Still—this time a part of me knows. Knows that he’s just a man. A man with tricks. And I’ve got plenty of my own.

  Riegt stops in front of me. He raises his palm, ready to erase this “poor insect.”

  Before it reaches its apex, I flood my mind with mana. It doesn’t want to listen. I make it. Push, pull, drag—anything. Even an ounce will make a difference. A sliver seeps in, enough to ease the grip on me, enough for instinct to get a foothold earlier.

  It was a wild guess, but it worked.

  His palm hits its apex. My body takes over. The air tightens—pulls in. I dive aside just before it collapses.

  I skid across the ground, unscathed. This time.

  “Just a man,” I mutter under my breath as I exhale.

  My body’s instinct has cleared some of the chains—like last time. If only I could make this part obey me at will. My body is still saturated with fear, but a sliver of control slips back in.

  I drop into stance. This time, I have mana to spare—and blood. He’ll have to come to me.

  He looks at me with pure disgust, offended that I dare to keep breathing.

  He walks forward, one crunching step after another. The anticipation is a blade’s edge.

  I tighten my grip and my resolve.

  His left foot lifts and plants. His right lifts and—he’s gone. Vanished.

  I scan everywhere. Nothing.

  Behind me, my back burns in warning. I turn—still nothing.

  The world goes still as I try to pinpoint this jester. My sphere flares—left, nothing. Right, nothing. Front, nothing.

  Then I catch it: the faint crunch of a boot behind me. I whirl, and there he is—palm raised.

  I move to evade—a second too late. Both my arms and my blade are erased.

  I hit the ground hard. Blood gushes, vision swimming. Not only did he rip off my limbs—he drained me dry. Damned wannabe vampire.

  I kick dirt beneath me to make distance, dragging myself backward on my back. Lightning arcs snap out from me, crackling through the air and scorching the ground—a last, desperate effort—but his ward stands, unshaken. He steps closer.

  I try to push myself away with my legs, but without arms it’s slow—too slow. His palm lifts, and through the haze of lightning I see those piercing eyes staring into me.

  Not a good angle to die from.

  The next moment, I’m gone—my upper body erased. Dead again.

  Trial and error—still the only way forward.

  ***

  I wake up in the same time and place as last time, with Voi sleeping and Koln sitting nearby.