Eloise looked at the boy in Gilmat’s capable hands. Each slow, gradual rise of his chest was a blessing in itself.

“Dear me,” she began, pushing a few grey locks aside to rub the sleep out of her eyes, “and you mean to tell me he fought the fiend?”

There was no need to disclose his full name. There was only one Unbounded who they could be referring to, and he was dead regardless. That, thus far, was the only good to come out of the gloomy evening.

Glimat remained quiet for a moment before continuing. “Yes, I believe so. The reports are ridiculous, and I was sure my eyes deceived me, but after so many people confirmed the same thing, I’m inclined to believe I’m sound of mind; that the boy I carried out of that hell really did do something so . . .” His head suddenly shot up. “Did you hear the rumours concerning Milap?”

“I did indeed.” Eloise nodded, her wrinkled features grave. “If Remus truly did put to an end two Right-bearers, there is something mightily wrong with this world — or perhaps strange is the better word. Very strange indeed.”

Gently, she waved her hands before the injured boy. There was little to no Rot in his system, surprisingly. Eloise mumbled some comment about fire, too distracted with Remus’ hands to be fully present, before turning both appendages palm-side up. The pink skin was raw, so tender that the little lines that drifted down were almost invisible. More akin to creases in a sheet than the deep, rock-like engravings that were so common for those of his occupation. Then again, Eloise supposed calling Remus a carpenter was like referring to Juniper as a very adept gardener. Technically right, but right in all the wrong ways.

“One of his fingers is missing.” She frowned. “Must have been a past injury.”

“Will he heal okay?” Gilmat said, sounding genuinely concerned for the boy. “Is a full recovery possible?”

“Luckily for us, Remus is still mid-way through advancing. His body should stabilise by itself. But as I always preach, it’s better to be safe than sorry . . .”

The power of Valarie, the Vitality god, flooded out of Eloise. Glimat was a twitchy man, and one prone to flinching, still bearing the survivalist instincts so essential for the troubled youth he once was. Any sort of power, Mark-based or just pure Infinity, was enough to send him into high gear.

But even he, when graced by the soothing warmth of the healing aura, felt himself relax.

The sparkling light enveloped Remus like a warm blanket, before seeming to fade all together. Yet, somehow, Gilmat could still feel it. Whatever Elosie had done to Remus would linger for a good while longer. Long enough, Gilmat hoped, to see the boy back to good health.

Valarie smirked at his concerned expression. “Someone’s gotten attached, so it seems. Quite admirable to rush into the fray like that, and pull Remus to safety.”

Gilmat shook his head. “He’s an idiot, for sure. A damn fool. But to fight for your family like that, against such stark odds — that’s something I have to respect. If it was Griffin who had just been killed, I know I would have done something equally insane.”

The woman smiled softly. But it was bitter in parts, a ghost of the traumas they had yet time to grieve. Once more, she glanced at Remus’ hands.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone regenerate so many appendages so fast. I don’t think there’ll be many contenders for that record soon.”

“I won’t try to beat him, at any rate. I hate to lower the mood when it’s already at bedrock, but has Andreas-”

“I saw to it that his body was safely removed myself.” Eloise couldn’t find it in her to crack another joke. “He didn’t make it. In fact, it was a miracle Andreas survived for so long in the first place. He scoffed in the face of death.”

“It was an honourable way to . . .” Gilmat spoke around the sudden lodge in his throat. “To go out. I’m sure it was an exit he’d be proud of.”

They were quiet for a time. Words seemed to serve little purpose. Silence was ample enough.

Glimat soon departed, carrying Remus to the infirmary. Meanwhile, Eloise spread her power across the battlefield.

She flew over it, quite absorbed in the task, when she noted two dots in her peripheral. Even to her ageing eyes, they were easy to spot.

And they were yelping like their lives depended on it.

The splashing outpour of her power flooded over the lands, healing everything it touched. Rejuvenation was at the heart of her power, the talent Eloise had been cultivating over years, years, and more years. If there were even the possibility of something being healable, her wise hands could make that a certainty.

Whatever was bothering the two men, it couldn’t have been physical injuries. Her universal balm would have appeased them soon enough, if it had been so. Whatever it was, they waved at her with enough force to fling the arms out of their sockets. Then Eloise really would have her hands full trying to minimise the damage.

It wasn’t like she was busy, and the two lads really did look worked up. Eloise sighed, cursed her moral compass, and flew over to them.

There were two ways to achieve flight: either twisting your area of mastery to somehow include the ability, or learning a very specific kind of Infinity manipulation that oftentimes required decades of practice. It wasn’t something you could simply brute force.

Regardless, Eloise landed next to the two boys via the latter method. No matter how creative you were, somehow connecting Vitality to flight would make for a weak link.

That aside, Elosie examined the duo before her. They were alike in age to Remus, clearly, with similar heights juxtaposed by locks of black and blonde hair respectively. Their eyes were so wide, their fists so tight with anxiety, that Eloise didn’t even utter a word to either of them before flickering an arm. That same warmth spread over the pair of them in a more plentiful offering.

It took a second, but the boys composed themselves enough to start talking.

“Remus,” the blonde one bursted out. “Is he-”

“The boy is alive. He’ll be stronger than ever when he awakes. Made it to Foot-Soldier.”

The relief on their faces was infectious. This was what Eloise worked so hard for. There was nothing like seeing the dread bleed out of someone; for bone-crushing anxiety to depart a worried soul.

“Gods above.” The blacked-haired man dropped to his knees, free to collapse with the burden off his shoulders. “We both felt the death of the Supreme Fiend, but everything happened so quickly. We couldn’t be sure if . . . if he’d-”

“If he’d make it out.” The blonde-haired man spoke softly, snapping to his good sense. “Thank you for your help, Eloise, we’re indebted to you.”

“He’s in the infirmary, if you’d like to be there when he wakes up. He’ll be more fatigued than anything, but it would still be nice if you . . .”

Eloise trailed off. She didn’t like getting distracted. Distraction was something you laughed at, when pointing a source of red light near a cat. Distraction wasn’t something suitable for a God-Graced of her prestige, and especially not in the middle of a battlefield with so many wounded.

Yet distracted she was. And the men — or boys — seemed to notice it immediately.

“What?” The blonde one asked, before going red in the face. “Beg my pardon, but what is it you sense?

Perhaps Elosie had to work on her poker face. “A beacon of power. Familiar power.”

The same man crept closer, hanging onto every word. “What power?”

“The Pet-Keeper.” She said quietly, not quite believing it herself. “They’ve found him.”

“Take me there.” He blurted out, his face deepening to another flushing shade. “I beg your pardon again, madam, and I know this was the exact type of thinking that got my friend hurt, but this is personal. If that fiend is there . . . I have to be.”

“Aziel!” The other interjected. “Behave yourself.”

Eloise hadn’t thought it possible, but once again, the red hue of Aziel’s features brightened. It was like he was expanding from the inside out.

Eloise wasn’t an advocate for carrying young men into warzones, but he was a fully registered soldier. It was his decision; be it stupid, and very likely suicidal. Besides, Eloise had full intentions of travelling to the location of the power outburst anyway. It would do her some good to have some back-up.

“If you’re prepared to face any consequences that may crop up-”

“I am, madam.”

She turned her head to the black-haired man. She could read the indecision on his twitching lips.

“Do you wish to come?”

“I would.” He muttered. “But I don’t like the idea of Remus waking up alone. Well, without a familiar face at least. I might not be the best choice in that regard, given our history, but it’s the only option. I doubt I could be much help as it is. I have a long way to go before I catch up with you and Remus.”

“You’ll be there in no time.” Aziel patted his shoulder. “Look Tanguy, I understand. It would be selfish of me to expect you to come with me. This is my fight, not yours.”

He stopped, hesitated to say something, before opening his mouth. “If I don’t make it back, if I’m not as lucky as Remus-”

“Don’t.”

“I mean it, Tanguy. If I get hurt, it was a pleasure knowing you. I know you’ll achieve amazing things one day. I just wonder — do you know it yourself?”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

With that, Aziel grasped Eloise’s hand tightly. He found it surprisingly firm.

They flew off to gods’ knew where, leaving a contemplating Tanguy to pick up the pieces in their wake.

----------------------------------------

“People are coming.”

It was easy for Koa to tell, drained and hurt as he was, sauntering back to regroup with Beckett’s army. Octavia was at his side, constantly on the verge of falling asleep. Her head half-resting on his shoulder as they wandered back, which was nice, but Koa struggled to enjoy the moment, considering what his senses were informing him of.

God-Graced level entities were cropping up everywhere in his senses. Well, okay, that was a gross exaggeration. Still, Koa had no trouble, even as disoriented as he was, detecting a couple of them not too far off. The troubling part was the fact he couldn’t discern whether they were human, or Unbounded. Friend, or foe.

“Whose . . . coming?” Octavia mumbled, only conscious the little amount needed to shamble forwards.

“I’m not sure.” Koa mumbled, not wanting to worry her. “They’re powerful though. Maybe Beckett finally managed to get out a distress signal. Either that, or . . .”

“Or what?”

Koa swallowed. “Or we’ll be needed quickly.”

Despite his aches and pains, and every excuse in the world to stay put, Koa marched on. It didn’t take long until the roaring tides of the battle washed over his ears. He could hear war cries, vast amounts of grunting, and monstrous hisses so indicative of the Unbounded.

By the time they had reached the site, Octavia had stirred awake. She blinked repeatedly at the frenzied mess all around.

The hodgepodge of insectile homes had morphed into one bizarre mess. Where once stood well defined segments for each type of insect, Koa now found himself lost in a graveyard of scattered fires.

He held onto his halberd a little more tightly, but found little to no Unbounded jumping out at him. In fact, it seemed that the Insect clansmen all around were rounding up the last of the fiends. The conflict was coming to a close, and it appeared to be an overwhelming victory for an army Koa had scrambled last-minute to produce.

Slowly, Koa approached a trio of clansmen. They were staring fixedly at the distance. Something quite intriguing indeed must have been occurring. Nothing bad, Koa hoped. The prospect that all the real fighting was over now, and he could just collapse into a deep slumber, enjoying the fruits of his labour and letting his body stabilise after such sudden advancement, was the most appealing one of his life.

“Gentleman.” He said slowly. Koa hated how hoarse his voice sounded. “Draven and Angel have been dealt with. Please tell — what have I missed?”

The men stared at him, mouths agape. Either they were beyond impressed at what Koa had just achieved, or Koa looked appalling. Koa didn’t suppose he wanted to know which it was.

“Reinforcements have arrived.” One of them spluttered. “Beckett held off the Pet-Keeper, but he’s injured. Not badly, mind, but some other God-Graced arrived to finish the Right-bearer off.”

“Who?” Octavia enquired.

“Eshika, the Archery God-Graced. Juniper and Cyrus. Jesitn, the Gravity God-Graced.”

Koa made a low whistle. “Quite the assembly.”

One of the other men looked at Koa with a terrible frown. “Pardon me Sir, but you don’t look too good. Some of the lads who are medical trained are giving first aid not too far from here. It would be no trouble to guide you two there.”

After spending so many hours in the quiet chill of the night, Koa wouldn't be surprised if even the marrow in his bones was frozen over. Nevertheless, that didn’t stop the warmth from spreading through his heart at the man’s words. And to be called Sir. Never in his life would Koa get used to that.

“You’re awfully kind.” He said, as brightly as he could. “But I’m afraid I’m not out of commission yet. I’ve had a second wind of sorts.”

Something glinted in the trio’s eyes. “You mean your advancement, Sir?

So they had noticed. Koa did his best not to smile too widely. Tried.

“Something like that. Thanks for noticing.”

Koa glossed over the fact his legs were at constant risk of dropping under his feet. He couldn't bear to ruin the awe-filled way they observed him.

That was it. Totally. It had nothing to do with his increasingly inflated ego.

“Octavia.” Koa turned to the clanswoman at his side. He felt the blood rush his cheeks. “I have to keep fighting, it’s my responsibility after leading these men with me. I know you’ll want to come with me, but-”

“I am going with you.”

Koa grasped her shoulders lightly. “You can’t. I’m going to use my cloak to sneak over there. Two people will be nearly impossible to disguise. You’re medically trained, right?”

“I am, but I can help you! Having someone from the Arachnid Clan with experience with the webbing will be invaluable. You need me.”

Koa took a deep breath. What he really needed was to deal with this elegantly. “I’m willing to rush into a brawl with a bunch of God-Graced, but that doesn't make it a good idea. At least not for people like you.”

She spluttered. ”People like me? What’s that supposed to-”

“I mean people that I care about. Look, there are a lot of brave men in the infirmary that could use your help. That need your help. You’ll do more good out there than dealing with my own personal, selfish vendetta.”

Octavia looked like she wanted to say more. It was a mighty struggle to hide his relief when she sighed, however. “Alright. Alright. But be careful.”

She gave his hand one last squeeze. Pulling away felt like a punch to the gut, but Koa did so anyway.

“Good work boys,” Koa addressed the small squadron one last time. “You did your clan proud.”

Koa enveloped himself fully in the cloak, drawing in the robe closer. Immediately, its disguising effects settled in. He felt like he was no longer one with reality — rather an outsider looking in.

Without another word, he barreled off. He couldn't even bring himself to look back; one look from Octavia, and he wouldn’t be able to go on.

The base had become a cesspool of rotting carcasses, Unbounded bodies dissolving into Infinity. It was a reverse snowfall, oddly beautiful in the brittle dark of a night soon to bleed into daylight. That was how long they had been fighting for.

It was time to draw things to an end. Properly this time.

Koa didn’t have to dash much more until he saw it. And for once, it was the Pet-Keeper at the major disadvantage.

His eyes had to adjust as a pool of flame curled around the ground, swallowing debris like some beast of the elements. The Pet-Keeper hopped from spot to spot among the hellfire, a puppet to Cyrus’ cruel game.

Boundaries of arrows surrounded the mass of fire, which reached out in a shifting mass prone to change. Others targeted the Right-bearer directly, following him around as if it was the world’s will that the Pet-Keeper would be shot.

Arrowheads chinked against his skin like it was some kind of armour, more likely to bruise than they were to penetrate. The Unbounded at the centre of it all roared in rage, slapping away any of the projectiles that flew too close. Whereupon they would turn, floating in the air and unbroken, only to throw their jagged ends at him again.

It was a cruel cycle, but not one Koa found much pity for.

He sneaked closer, always keeping a watchful eye on when the Pet-Keeper came into view. And each time, Koa had to grit his teeth at the sight of his invincible body. The Divine Right of Immunity was as impenetrable as ever. The God-Graced would have made a great effort of tiring the power of Enos’ gift, but it was still in full activation. The Pet-Keeper was clinging onto the ability like it was in his final lifeline. Which, in many aspects, it likely was.

A Pet-Keeper exposed to the full brunt of this group’s assault had a better chance of fleeing the planet than surviving.

Koa was creeping as close as he could, and that was when the hooded man arrived.

Jesitn was as infamous as any other God-Graced or Godling this side of the world. His grey cloak covered him always, and it was something of a joke that, just like his patron god Septimus, never in his days had he so much as touched the ground. Choosing always to defy gravity, just like how he defied the odds, with how well his sect was flourishing.

In Koa’s lifetime, there had been more leaders of the Gravity Clan than years he’d been alive. It was the most cutthroat sect that wasn’t outright barbaric, yet to reach the depravity of the Anarchy Syndicate. How Jestin had led for up to two Rebirths now, without even a knife sticking out of his back, was enough to make Koa believe in miracles again.

Which they were in desperate need of. Koa took a deep breath, and promptly discarded that thought. They were winning! There was no need to scare himself out of action. Victory was theirs: he just had to seize it.

Justin raises his hands, and the effect on the Pet-Keeper was immediate.

His steps were slowed, his head inclined towards his chest, fixed with a grimace that spoke only of discomfort. The arrows, the fire, the sporadic attacks from anyone else near enough to land a hit, it all was too fast for a pressed Pet-Keeper to avoid.

The fiend’s body was bombarded, obscuring his form behind a pillar of flame. It wasn’t enough, however, for Koa to miss out on one key detail: the Unbounded’s eyes.

They were furious. Sharp angles crafted out of pain and misery. Like a rabid dog’s.

The Pet-Keeper knew what Koa had done to Angel, and he would kill him for it. No hesitation.

Koa’s advance slackened at that realisation. He focused on the Unbounded on the brink of death, bound to be butchered to pierces the second his Right failed him. What need was there for Koa to involve himself? Where was the heavenly sign that told him it should be him who landed the killing blow?

Thoughts. So many they made Koa’s head hurt, and all appearing within the span of a second. Was revenge really necessary? A sharp, aggressive side of him instantly barked back in assent. Of course it was.

Logic had its own response. He had said it himself. This was a selfish act. To get revenge for himself, to risk his own life where it wasn’t needed, and when he could help the world in countless other ways, if he would just give it a break and recover . . .

Koa mulled it all over. Right when he was drawing to a conclusion, it appeared.

A purple rift.

The Pet-Keeper turned to face the tear in space, hunger in his eyes. Koa took about one second to put two and two together, and he knew he had no choice. He could not let this low-life slip out of their hold again, not after all that he’s sacrificed. All that everyone here had sacrificed.

He rushed closer, taking no heed of his own safety. Instincts alone, as well as some masterful use of his internal senses, rewarded Koa with a safe passage to the Pet-Keeper.

The Unbounded was unleashing all of his remaining power in one wild spree. It was life or death. Hoarding his remaining strength for later served him no good. It was do or die, and he knew it.

Closer, closer. Koa halted abruptly as a wall of fire erupted before him. He stood rigidly, waiting, waiting. Any second now, the fire would flicker aside for one moment, and he would seize the opportunity. Any second . . .

Koa inhaled. He felt the perspiration leak down his forehead. A thousand minute details of the scene flickered into stark focus. His foot shifted, he inhaled again, he-

The flame curved to the side, and Koa didn’t dare hesitate. He swung the halberd with all his might.

Its course was so perfect, as to be uncanny. By the time he got the chance to exhale, he was looking at a completely different scene.

The halberd stuck out of the Pet-Keeper’s back. A light flashed on his forehead, the image of a beating, bloody heart materialising.

His right had worn off.

The fiend realised this at the same time as everyone else, but no one quite matched his reaction. He screamed, pure terror shattering his regal exterior. The Unbounded had never quite matched Nova in terms of stoicism, but this outcry was something else all together. Like a toddler throwing a tantrum.

Everybody closed in on the Unbounded, and Koa was met by yet another surprise: the new arrivals.

Eloise flashed into being from out of nowhere, Aziel slamming fist-first onto the ground. Despite their lack of interaction, Koa half-thought the boy was staring directly at him. Well, with his eyes that wide, and his mouth hanging so open, he must have been looking awfully impressive. He was about to flash him a wry, show-off smile, when a more reasonable part of Koa noted that Aziel wasn’t looking at him at all.

It took Koa a low blow to his ego, and a glance to his side, to see the last person he expected here: Violet.

And she was quaking with power.