A cultivator faces many enemies that will hinder their growth, but none more fearsome than themselves.

~Zorya, Goddess of the Sun Gate

“Stay directly behind me,” Crow ordered while he let loose his arrow. Judging the distance, he had already started creating a protective wall between them and the blast.

Boom! Crow put the arrow in the densest group of the Shadowmen. Without the rift, it was now about how fast they could reduce their numbers. Crow wasn’t about to give up on the legacy unless it was impossible to fight back.

One of his barriers survived, so he adjusted his dash to run alongside it, with Hooligan practically breathing down his neck. Her ability to make herself lighter made her stamina more robust, so she wasn’t nearly as exhausted as Crow.

“I’ll lead. You put arrows into anything that gets close,” Hooligan said, dashing ahead of Crow. The falcata in her hand might as well have been a scythe with how she used it to reap Shadowmen.

Crow aimed for anything still moving. Especially the Scath that didn’t turn into some kind of goo. He worked under the assumption that they were playing possum.

Hooligan trusted Crow so much that she didn’t even flinch when arrows brushed by her cheek. He operated with such high precision and calmness that she sometimes thought he must be the god of all archers. That wasn’t to say she looked down on his skills with a blade, but even if he was an expert of the sword, it paled by far to his expertise with a bow.

The two of them cut a swath through the remaining Shadowmen and arrived at the stairs to the Shrine.

“Up? Or fight more?” Hooligan asked as they both turned toward the approaching arm of discordant shadows.

“Fight,” Crow said. “We can’t afford to lose this Shrine—err, never mind.”

Before them, the Scath did not approach within thirty meters of the Shrine. Instead, they stopped and stared at the two that got away from them.

“What’s happening?” Hooligan asked.

Crow loosed a dozen arrows, taking down more of the Shadowmen, but they didn’t react. They continued to stand there.

“Maybe the Shrine consecrates this ground or something. Like my formation, maybe it has the ability to keep them at bay. We know normal beasts can approach, so it must target the Primordial Chaos Mana. Either way, this makes things easier. We can complete this Shrine, go back and relax for a few days, and then come up with a plan for reaching the next Shrine.”

“Plan? Just kill them all. We can just stay back here.”

Crow rubbed her head and grinned at her simplistic thought process. Then, his eyes caught the top of the Shrine’s entry, and he grimaced. Spirit Shrines were still the worst for him. The one with the god shrines wasn’t so bad, but it was more like a free pass.

“Let’s go.”

They stepped inside the Shrine, and suddenly he was a three-year-old boy, naked and hiding behind a fallen log. He knew this scene and wanted out.

“No! This isn’t fucking happening!” Crow roared, and his mom looked down at him and smiled as if he hadn’t said a word. Events played out like they did that day, and as much as he tried to stop them, it only worsened. It prolonged the suffering. Once it was over, it started again. Crow felt his heart rip apart repeatedly as he relived the worst moment of his life.

Crow didn’t know how often the loop continued before he felt something inside him break. His rationality wasn’t completely gone, and the warmth he felt pouring in from his wounded soul was like a tender hug. A whisper in his half-awake state, a pat on the back—a tenderness that only a mother could give. At this point, he didn’t know if he was sobbing, smiling, or just plain broken.

“Wake up now, Little Crow. Your lover needs you…”

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Hearing that, Crow’s eyes snapped open, breaking from the horrifying trial. The voice whispering to him, subconsciously, he knew it was his mama, but logically he wanted to deny it. It was a connection he didn’t quite understand, but if he could see his own eyes, he’d know the whites of his eyes were completely black. The only thing noticeable was the golden ring that surrounded his pupils.

Crow put that aside and rushed toward Hooligan; his arms wrapped her in a big hug. Instantly, his back was slashed again and again by a blade. In this nightmare, Hooligan was experiencing having her face repeatedly cut by her little sister. Lifelessly, Hooligan was whimpering and pleading for her sister to stop, but she refused to defend herself.

It was like her soul had already left her body. Hooligan didn’t just have wounds on her cheeks; her entire face was covered. Crow wasn’t sure if the injuries were real or fake, but now that he was being stabbed while protecting her, he felt a distinct weakness that stemmed from blood loss.

Even with him shielding her, he couldn’t wholly prevent her disfigurement. Not only was this impacting her mental state, but it also affected him. Unable to protect his woman from pain, the only thing he could do was tuck her face into his chest and shield her with every part of himself.

He didn’t know what he was saying, probably nothing, but he mumbled incessantly to help calm her down. His was the first warmth she felt in a long time—it made her uncomfortable. Because of it, she flailed, struggled, punched, kicked, and attacked the person holding her.

Crow didn’t try to stop her, and he took the attacks from both sisters without complaint. While being punished, he realized this trial was about facing inner demons. Even now, he was facing one of his own demons, the inability to protect his loved ones.

Everything was surreal, and what he felt at that moment was on the same level as losing his mother. No, it was worse. This was her sister, family, a trusted person betraying Hooligan. Gideon wasn’t family, not as far as Crow was concerned, so his betrayal meant nothing. Hooligan, though, grew up with her little sister and was now being tortured and betrayed.

No matter how he looked at it, Hooligan’s suffering was worse. Her fists were seriously painful, and her head slammed into his nose and mouth. The little sister’s blade slashed across his back. Blood sprayed from both sides of his body, and the warm crimson dripped onto Hooligan’s face.

The hot blood on her face managed to soothe her. Slowly, she stopped struggling as the blood dripped on her scarred face until she regained her sanity. The first thing she saw was Crow’s face, his golden green eyes staring into hers. She expected to see pity but was surprised when those eyes only radiated concern. Her surprise transitioned into shock when she saw how much he was bleeding. His face was pale, and his body shaking. Despite all that, he held her.

“Crow?” Hooligan asked, tears sliding down her face like the first cascade of snow before an avalanche.

“Cultivation requires a clear heart, and at times we must face our inner demons. It is the only way to release the knots in our hearts and awaken our Spiritual energy. The marks on our souls are both a blessing and a curse. I believe in you, but this isn’t a battle I can fight for you.” Crow kissed her forehead and wiped away her tears. The tips of his fingers brushed against her scarred cheeks while her face flushed red. “The demon is just a shadow, so use those big fists of yours, little rabbit, and tear free from its grasp.”

“Pfft,” Hooligan laughed, feeling the knot loosen. She hugged Crow and felt the deep gashes on his back. Her laughter choked off, and she pushed him aside. The warm glow from moments ago was gone, and in its place was a cold, hard glare. “Only I’m allowed to beat my man,” she growled, and Crow suddenly felt his forehead beading up with a cold sweat.

“What kind of nonsense are you saying?”

“Be quiet, foolish lover. How dare you let another woman cut you!? You stand to the side. We’ll talk when I’m done punching this little bitch in the face,” Hooligan shouted, and her fists lit up with white light as she struck at the apparition of her sister. Unlike before, her powers were boosted by Spirit, and a confidence that she knew came from knowing Crow supported her.

When she awoke from her gruesome nightmare with Crow holding and shielding her from the horrors of the past, she knew there would be no other man in her life. Without Crow, she’d rather join him in the cycle of rebirth. She was angry because he allowed himself to be hurt for her. Angry and filled with adoration. For the first time in years, she felt hope.

And just like that, the shadow of her sister, the past, was resolved. Each fist diminished the pain. Each fist lessened and shrank the darkness until it shattered.

Crow watched and used the time to seal his wounds because they were real. It was the price he paid for interfering, and as Hooligan beat down her sister, he saw the wounds on her face disappearing.

Either way, he was lashed so many times that he lost a lot of blood. Hooligan’s little sister was a fucking demon. When he saw she was free of her pain, Crow collapsed to the ground. The blood loss weakened him but didn’t render him unconscious. He just needed some time to recover.

Speaking of rabbits, sometime later, he felt Hooligan’s little rabbits pressing against his chest. She was sobbing and laughing simultaneously, so Crow wasn’t sure what to do. Going for something safe, he stroked her back.

“I fucking hate these Shrines,” Hooligan grumbled, and Crow could only nod in agreement. However, he noticed there was a huge reward this time. The bottleneck he had faced practicing the Spirit-based cultivation from the Noafa elder had disappeared. In the future, he’d be able to cultivate his Spirit, Body, and Mind.

An hour later, they were in the shower at Sanctuary. Neither wanted to do anything but hold each other and sleep after that.