“Now!” Lightning crackled around Ike’s legs, and he jumped directly into the air.

The two Rank 2s landed. They immediately leaped up again, but too slow. Curtains of spider thread burst from the spiderweb walls. The threads flew beneath Ike’s feet and ensnared the other two fighters. Trapped, the mages grabbed for their weapons. Every motion wound the threads tighter around them. Every twist pulled more of the web around their bodies.

Ike landed lightly on the web. The mud fell away from his boots, revealing soles lined with shed bristles from Wisp’s spider form. The setae were covered in a strange anti-stick fluid that Wisp guaranteed worked, even if she refused to tell him where it came from.

Garrus whipped toward him and howled. A blast of icy cold flew from his mouth.

He jumped back, landing on the ever-so-slightly thicker strands. I’ll make the non-sticky threads thicker for you, Wisp had told him, and even then, he struggled to tell the difference. Spiders were on another level when it came to differentiating thread.

Ice accumulated on the threads Garrus had howled at. He tore his arm through them, trying to use the freeze to break through, but the ice merely shattered off the threads.

Ike chuckled. “It’ll take more than that to break these threads.”

Damain drew a deep breath. A pilot flame flickered deep in his throat.

Holy shit. Ike dashed toward him.

In his mind’s eye, Wisp waggled her finger at him. “Most things at your Rank won’t break my thread, but it is flammable, and the people of Abyssal know it! Don’t count on my thread to do more than delay the inevitable.”

As flames surged up Damain’s throat, Ike unleashed a punch. Green shockwaves flew from his fist. The man saw them coming and tried to dodge, but the threads held him in place. The shockwaves hammered down on his head, snapping his jaw shut. The flames poomfed in his mouth, and he grimaced in pain.

Without relenting an inch, Ike activated his Clad skills. Lightning burst up all over his body, one united piece of spellwork. His strength, speed, and stamina all surged upward toward mid-Rank-2 levels.

Damain’s eyes widened. Struggling against the web, he lifted his arms in an attempt to block Ike’s attack.

Too slow. Ike blurred past Damain’s clumsy defense and released a flurry of lightning-clad kicks on the man’s head. Damain’s eyes rolled back, and he fell backward in the web, unconscious.

Rather than backing away, Ike drew his sword. He thrust it through Damain’s heart without hesitation. Bright red blood spilled from the man’s chest.

I can’t let him live. Right now, I have a massive advantage, but if he sets the web on fire and releases Garrus and himself, I’m not sure I can win. He might have been unconscious for hours; he might have been unconscious for seconds. Mages are far more resilient than ordinary people. Anything but delivering a killing blow means putting my own life on the line.

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Beside him, Garrus roared in anger. He raised his fists. Cold mist welled up between his fingers and rolled down his arms. Where it passed, razor-sharp ice blades grew from his forearms. He lifted his arms high and slashed down, and Wisp’s spiderwebs fell away. Turning, he slashed all around him. Thread after thread snapped before his blades.

The web weakened. It sagged under Ike’s feet. He jumped down rather than tumble with the web. Keeping his footing even, he raised his sword, watching Garrus closely for an opening.

Overhead, the sun grew dim. Storm clouds began to gather.

“Merciless. A merciless killer,” Garrus spat.

“Better a merciless killer than a slaughterer, butchering hundreds of innocents,” Ike returned.

“You think them innocent?” Garrus laughed.

Ike regarded him coolly from the other side of his blade. “I didn’t come here to debate semantics. And neither did you.”

“No,” Garrus agreed. He lifted his ice-bladed arms.

The two of them gazed at one another for a moment. Silence fell over the battlefield. All around them, the pale webbing drifted to the floor.

Thunder rumbled.

The two dashed toward one another, purple flashing toward pale white. Garrus punched at Ike. Ice coated his fist, and a wave of cold washed out from the strike.

Ike countered with his own punch. The shockwaves blew the cold wind away, but Garrus closed in and landed a heavy blow on his body, while his strike fell short. Garrus’ eyes widened, and he pulled back his fist to capitalize on the blow.

With all his might, Ike kicked off the ground and leaped backward. He landed on a remaining loose strand of Wisp’s thread. From his high ground, he coughed, barely swallowing back a mouthful of blood. He felt no pain, only searing cold. Ice coated his stomach. A hole was smashed out of his side, and frozen blood coated his body. Ike covered the hole with a hand, running extra electricity past it to warm up the ice. As the ice melted, the pain kicked in, and he hissed, barely biting back a gasp.

I can’t fight him on his terms. He’s a fistfighter, a close-ranged warrior. I need to fight in a way he’s not prepared to handle, not in a way that plays into his specialty.

Garrus looked up at Ike. He chuckled. “I’m surprised. You know how to take a hit, boy.”

“Is it that surprising?” Ike asked, buying time while Salamander Healing regenerated his flesh.

“Mages are usually pampered bastards. Noble kids, who were never spanked, let alone in a real fight. Who grew up with rich parents who paid off their friends. Buncha wimpy assholes. Lots of them would run screaming at a single hit like that—or, at least, be unable to jump back like you did,” Garrus commented.

“I’m just a slumrat who got lucky,” Ike countered.

“Ahhh. Yes. That tracks. Well… part of it doesn’t. Ranking up at your age, without your daddy’s money to buy nice skills and daddy’s servants to hold down your beasts for you… that’s a surprise. But now I understand why you can take a hit.” Garrus clenched his, then pointed at Ike. “It almost makes me want to not kill you.”

“But the king’s money is worth more, huh?” Ike snarked.

“Well, there’s that. Mostly, I’m a man who likes a fight. This peaceful era is too boring. I need a battlefield to shine. And that means war.” Garrus tossed a nod at Ike. “So if you’re done healing, why don’t you come down here and give me my fight?”

Ike snorted under his breath. Caught me. His wound was mostly healed, so he hopped down. He circled to the right, trying to get a better angle on Garrus.

Garrus laughed. He matched Ike’s pace, refusing to let him get the advantage. “And how did you capture the Will o’ the Wisp? Force that beast to make you such a neat trap?”

“I asked her,” Ike replied bluntly.

“Asked—” Garrus guffawed. He shook his head. “Gods, kid. We need to fight before I start liking you too much to kill you.”

Even as he spoke, Ike dashed in at full speed. Operating Lightning Grasp, he stabbed toward Garrus’ stomach.

Garrus grinned. “Come!”