Kyren's body felt renewed—stronger, lighter. His muscles brimmed with power, his movements sharper, swifter. When he pushed forward, he nearly vanished. The speed was incredible. It rivaled Soundless Step.
His blades thrummed with mana. Lion's Requiem sharpened to a deadly edge as he dashed in. Momentum Slash. A single strike. The puppet's gauntlets split clean in half—then its body followed, severed with surgical precision.
But the others were losing ground.
Lydel and Baldwin fought the same hulking puppet. Both were battered, bruised. Liora had already healed them multiple times, but she was at her limit. Another monstrous blow sent them flying.
Lydel crashed, rolling limply across the stone. He didn't get up.
Baldwin barely clung to consciousness, swaying on his feet as the puppet closed in.
Kyren moved. One step. Soundless Step.
He vanished.
Then, in a blink, he was there, standing between Baldwin and the incoming blow.
Baldwin had turned the tide of battle, but he had nothing left to give. It was up to Kyren now.
With the last remnants of Baldwin's buff, Kyren attacked. Twin blades. Two clean strikes. The puppet's arm hit the ground. A second later, its leg followed. The flailing limbs barely grazed him as he weaved through them. One last slash—another leg severed below the knee. The puppet collapsed, and Kyren carved its head from its body.
It was over.
Almost.
Runa fought on, but her movements had slowed. She had cut down several puppets already, but each new one was faster, stronger. They adapted.
She swung her trident scythe in a sweeping arc—aiming for their legs—but they dodged, barely nicked by the blade. Their stiff movements became eerily fluid, their strikes more precise.
Runa's breath came heavier. The three-sword technique had drained her more than she thought.
Then—
A fist caught her in the ribs.
She flew back, skidding across the ground before catching herself with her weapon.
She didn't have time to recover. One of the puppets lunged—not attacking, but advancing. It was going for the kill.
She reacted on instinct, her scythe flashing forward—aiming for its neck.
But her grip faltered.
The blade cut only an arm.
Then another blow struck her, sending her to her knees.
The puppets closed in.
Kyren moved.
His body exploded with mana. His mind sharpened.
One goal.
Close the distance.
He activated Soundless Step—but this time, something was different. The moment his foot touched the ground, he was already there.
His blade sang through the air. He didn't even need to sharpen it. Momentum Slash. The puppet's head separated from its body in an instant.
Only one remained.
Kyren steadied himself. But then—
The strength in his body vanished.
Across the trade hall, Baldwin collapsed. The buff was gone.
Kyren took a slow breath. He could still win this.
His body flexed as Relentless Ascension kicked in, mana surging through his veins. The last puppet moved—but Kyren had already seen its every motion, memorized its attacks, dissected its movements.
He dove in.
A flurry of slashes. His daggers ripped into the puppet. It barely had time to react before its limbs hung useless, shredded. It collapsed.
Kyren ended it with one final, decisive slash.
And then—
Only he and the priest remained.
The man in gold robes stood motionless. Slowly, he lowered his hood.
Greasy black hair, slicked back. A rotten, blackened grin.
He spat venomous words, his voice full of reverence.
"I have given my life to the cause. Just like every man who lies dead before you. And just like them—" his lips twisted, "—I will make the much-needed sacrifice."
His fingers hovered over his skull.
Then—black mana tendrils shot from his fingertips, piercing into his own head.
The priest's body convulsed. Muscles twisted, skin rippled, veins blackened. Mana poured into him in unnatural waves.
His limbs stiffened—then moved.
Too fast.
Kyren barely dodged as a strike carved through the space where his head had been. Even with Baldwin's buff, the priest would have been faster.
Kyren had never fought something this fast.
The slashes he managed to land were shallow. Superficial. He was barely scratching him.
But—
None of the priest's blows landed either.
Kyren could see his movements. Just like the puppets. Stiff, yet calculated. Faster, stronger—but still predictable.
If Kyren wanted to win, he had to take risks.
He stepped in after a missed punch, feeling the wind rip past his back as the priest's fist narrowly missed him. Kyren thrust upward.
The dagger sank into flesh.
From hip to chest, the priest split open.
Yet he didn't flinch.
A fist slammed into Kyren's chest.
Pain exploded through his ribs as he flew back, crashing into the wall. Stone cracked around him.
The priest was already moving again.
Kyren barely pushed himself to his feet before he saw the next strike coming.
Too fast.
He threw himself aside, narrowly avoiding another killing blow. His vision blurred, his breath ragged.
He had one last effort left.
Kyren activated Stalwart Shield.
Raw power erupted through him.
This wasn't Baldwin's buff. This felt like his own mana—natural, in tune with his body.
His movements sharpened. His strength surged.
Kyren didn't hesitate.
The priest moved to intercept him, hands outstretched—
Kyren changed course at the last second.
A feint.
Instead of aiming for the priest's torso—he struck low.
His blade cut through bone.
The priest's hand hit the floor.
For the first time, the priest staggered.
The entire left side of his body drooped. His once-fluid movements turned sluggish, his balance off.
Kyren had seconds left before Stalwart Shield faded.
He had to end it now.
He feinted another attack at the priest's remaining hand.
The priest fell for it, yanking his arm back.
His neck was exposed.
Kyren struck.
The blade sliced through the air, cutting sharper than ever before.
It met flesh.
And severed.
The priest's head tumbled to the ground.
Silence followed.
Kyren staggered, his breath heavy. His vision swam, exhaustion creeping in.
But the battle was over.