Her eyes.

  They were so red, as if someone had plucked them and reattached them over and over again. Veins bulged through her cheek, snaking around her chin, and swelling just above her ears. Her youthful looks now darkened with ashen complexity.

  She still wore the bandages just like Rue. Perhaps the only similarity they shared now.

  Cruelly, Rue thought. Is she even still alive?

  She looked like a corpse with alien parts attached to her in the form of those eight metallic spider legs.

  “Kill her!” Someone croaked.

  Ilyrin coughed up blood down her palm, and Paxwell steadied her up. “Emily is not supposed to die. You—” She stopped her words.

  Rue stayed silent. He had expected some blame to be directed at him for leaving them.

  “She went out of control and killed Emily.”

  With the words out of the way, the Warlock moved, hanging in the air, launching two of her legs straight at Paxwell and Ilyrin.

  Paxwell reacted hastily by parrying one with his heated sword. The leg flailed up, thwarted. But the other one snaked around Paxwell’s defence and launched straight at Ilyrin’s neck—a skin of earth crept around Ilyrin's neck, blocking the leg, and pebbles of earth cracked.

  The Warlock was not done yet. She quickly withdrew both legs, and just beyond her mouth, mana shaped into steel shrapnel. Threads woven into the shape of sharp, solid steel.

  Paxwell tried to lug Ilyrin out of the way, but the old man stumbled over vines that grew erratically above the brothel’s floor.

  The Steel Shrapnel kept forming, and Rue still remembered the force they carried, how they blasted through cobble walls, which was why he did not stay idle. He dashed forward with Frost Shrapnel building just beyond his palm. The Warlock’s legs noticed his movement and whipped forward. Three of them went streaking at him, causing the girl to shake.

  Rue veered to his right, running around a stout-looking white pillar. Just when he thought he was safe, the pillar broke apart and the floor above cracked. The whip slammed straight at him, and Rue jumped over it. Another whip launched like a spear. Rue touched the ground first and kept running, ducking as the whip smashed through a wall in a loud crash.

  He pivoted and aimed his hand at the girl. Frost Shrapnel flew forward in a cold zip. Rue used the recoil of his spell to roll behind and narrowly dodge another leg that crushed the floor he was just on.

  Standing upright, he watched. His spell slammed straight into the Warlock’s magic. But the Frost Shrapnel broke apart the moment it met the Steel Shrapnel. It was not enough to stop the Warlock’s spell, barely enough to veer it off course as it launched, resulting in the Steel Shrapnel tearing through the wall just beside Paxwell’s face.

  Without any reaction to her miss, the girl started another Steel Shrapnel. But Rue was already on her with his Frost Sword in both hands.

  His sword felt strange under his gauntleted right hand. It felt strange, yet right, like it was meant to be.

  Rue slashed upon one of the two legs that were speared through the ground floor. His sword dug into the sheen of lacquered black steel and bounced back. A slight crack sounded. Rue gritted his teeth and forced his body down to strike again. This time, he managed to chip the leg, sending a bit of cracking instead.

  It was not like steel, but a hard glass.

  However, not only the girl’s spider legs, but Rue’s sword also cracked apart into a puff of coldness, which seeped right into his helmet.

  This was clearly the girl’s invested spell. And he was supposed to fight her without his?

  “Watch out!” Rue whirled to see two legs speared through the air right at him from both sides. The floor cracked, and vines shot out trying to reach Rue. Not seeing a way out, Rue balled his gauntleted hand and smashed the spider leg in front of him.

  A resounding snap popped, and the leg cracked apart.

  This worked.

  Rue let out a slight smile, but it was quickly wiped out. His helmeted head slammed, causing him to collapse to the ground. A crack of steel burst, letting sunlight creep through the tall stained-glass window just above the stairs into his haze. He brought his gauntlet up, just remembering there was another leg. But nothing came; he then saw large, busy vines catching one of the spider's legs, which meant to impale him.

  The vine gave up. Shredded. And the leg launched at him again. Rue, with the time he bought, had already summoned another Frost Sword. He was about to ward off the leg, but then Paxwell appeared, slamming the leg with his sword, and sent it flailing.

  “Behind!” The old man warned.

  Rue turned and blocked one leg. His legs buckled. And his sword cracked again.

  I should bring that steel sword!

  The Frost Sword burst apart, and Rue shielded his helmet with his gauntlet. The leg skittered across his armored arm and to his cheek. Rue saw another leg coming, this time whipping at him. Foolishly, he tried to grab it. Instead, he was slammed back. His stomach flared and ripped apart. His mind was fading as his body hurtled backward through the air.

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  Vines rushed up at him, a wave of green blanketed just below Rue. He coughed blood, and it was sticky inside his helmet. The smell permeated his nose and his eyes.

  The haze around his vision was about to blind him. Then, they faded away. Slowly at first. Then rapidly. Rue shook his head, and a vine tickled his neck. They were so comfortable and... They were glowing with bright green. The light seeped into him, granting him power. Rue pushed up, his hand found a rocky surface. He was angled diagonally.

  Stairs. He was atop the stairs.

  The light of stained glass was right behind him, filtering forward to show Paxwell back against the wall, where Ilyrin extended her hand toward Rue. The vines shot around her, and from where her hand touched, a green energy flared forward to heal him.

  Rue quickly lifted his hand. His body was still sore all over. But like hell he would let both of them die after letting Yom and Emily die. Frost Shrapnel manifested. And Rue sent it right across the space between him and the girl, straight on.

  Right now, he didn’t care if he killed the girl.

  The Warlock managed to twist in time, and one of her seven legs sliced apart Rue’s shrapnel into two, sending them crashing behind random doors. Rue did not intend to let up. He formed another. The girl saw this. She spun to him, and the legs trying to kill Paxwell decreased to only two.

  Rue launched his spell, and again—sliced apart.

  The girl launched one of her legs like a punt at Rue—staying calm, he released another Frost Shrapnel. The spell soared through just above the girl’s leg. The spider's leg was about to reach his throat, then it snapped out, just a few centimeters away.

  Unsurprisingly, his spell was blocked again. Rue tried to find a way. He looked around and spotted it. The Warlock’s spider legs were now mostly attached to the second floor. A plan brimmed inside his head. Now that the girl’s attention was on him, this was his chance.

  The Warlock no longer took half measures. She built Steel Shrapnel with her mouth and aimed it at him. With her magic building, her legs constantly prevented any ranged attack. He did not see any other option.

  “Pax!” Rue’s voice rang hoarsely. “Get ready.”

  The old man acknowledged Rue. Instead of shouting back a question or shooting a confused glance, Paxwell built up heat along his sword. He saw the old man bark a command at Ilyrin, who stopped her healing magic on Rue and summoned new vines.

  Rue stood, feeling the vines below him begin to turn into ashes. He kicked up, sending ashes fluttering with each step, and climbed to the second floor.

  In his haste, he locked eyes with the girl. Those red eyes did not leave him.

  She released her most powerful Steel Shrapnel yet. Rue pushed his body forward and let out a grunt as he stumbled, but rose again with both hands pushing, and hauled himself up.

  Air cracked.

  The Steel Shrapnel blew everything, eradicating the stair curves just behind him. The grand stained-glass window fractured apart, sending crystalline orange splinters that splayed countless golden rays inside.

  Rue rushed up toward the second floor. He could no longer see the Warlock anymore, but that did not stop the girl from sending spider legs up, lancing through the floor.

  He barely outran one attempt. Fracturing wood hit his face. He spat out dust and sprinted ahead, spotting the four legs serving as the girl's anchor wrapped around the railing. Rue dashed forward, summoning his sword and holding it down. Just as he reached the railing, four spider legs rose.

  She thought he was going to target those. But she was wrong. Rue bounded off the railing and soared down toward the girl, still hovering with her three spider legs beneath. She kicked the four legs up in panic and hadn’t had time to bring them down.

  Rue could feel, as he was airborne, that behind him, he was about to be pierced to death. The girl moved below, trying to dodge. But with only three legs supporting her, she was too sluggish. He rammed his sword straight into the girl’s stomach, and they tumbled together down in a roll.

  His shoulder broke upon impact. His body was broken all over as he spun through the floor. Still, his fight was not over.

  “Pax!” Rue screamed as he felt vines begin to creep around his body again.

  Paxwell lunged. His molten sword blared.

  The girl, still with Rue’s frost sword jutting from her stomach, slammed six legs down and pushed herself up just in time to dodge Paxwell’s swipe, but too late—three legs were sheared apart by the old man's blazing strike. Only four legs were left. The girl floated, and her four legs clutched onto the third-floor railing.

  Rue exhaled a rasping breath.

  His chest heaved up and down, and it was a struggle to move. He hated this. This reminded him of his past.

  Unable to do anything.

  Not able to do anything?

  No, that was not true.

  Rue raised his arm, as if trying to reach for the sun. Cold brimmed just above him, letting a chill spread around his body. Instead of running, the girl aimed that Steel Shrapnel down.

  They released both of their magic.

  Both spells carved a path at one another.

  The Steel Shrapnel spun and drilled through his Frost Shrapnel in a matter of seconds. Rue had just regained control of his body. It was too late—then Paxwell was there, his heated sword ready. The old man slammed his sword and clashed against the shrapnel. With a final exertion, the old man slashed apart the magic.

  The grate of steel rang as the metallic shrapnel broke apart in a boom toward the brothel’s floor.

  After her magic was destroyed, the girl pulled herself up to the third floor and disappeared.

  “We can’t let her run—” Rue stopped.

  Paxwell fell to both of his knees. The old man jabbed his sword down on the floor and breathed in and out. Sweat drenched his bandages and trailed down his back.

  “Paxwell? Are you all right? I can heal you,” Rue said.

  “No, I’m just tired,” he said, trying to stand but failing. “Long day.”

  “Yeah, long day,” Rue mumbled. He looked up. It looked like he needed to find a different stair to chase her.

  “I’m bringing you up, Rue,” Ilyrin suddenly said.

  Before he could ask, the vines below him shaped into a disc, and he was raised.

  “Don’t stop now!” Ilyrin shouted. “I will look after Paxwell.”

  She threw two vials up, red and blue.

  Rue caught them and glared down at her for not giving them to him normally. He tried to find any emotion behind Ilyrin’s eyes. Did she hate him for what he did? He did not plan to apologize even if she did. It was the best decision in that situation.

  Rue downed both potions and cracked them under his hand.

  Blood seeped as the glass fractures bit into his skin.

  Rue winced and muttered. “Stupid.”

  He summoned his frost sword and rose. The wooden disc stopped just at the third floor, and he was met by the girl’s red eyes, now with only four spider legs around her, digging around a small hallway.

  “I—I will not let you disturb my lady,” the Warlock said. One of her spider legs poised like a spear at Rue.

  “Pl—Please kill me,” the girl said. Rue’s grip tightened, and he watched her to see how her sense of self was still there.

  She clawed her hand to her cheek and shrieked. “My lady's order is absolute. My—my name is Aurel,” Aurel said.

  Rue reached out his hand, but then something about her changed. The air got heavier, and her eyes jerked bright red. On her neck, the Sruka’s mark shone.

  Rue put his hand just between his shoulders, where Sruka had bitten her. It was gone. But hers was not.

  The legs speared forward.

  Rue, with his sword, bounded forward, stepping onto the third floor and launching himself at Aurel.

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