I relaxed. They're both dead. Good riddance.

  My breathing slowed, but the weight of the battle still clung to my bones. Blood—some mine, most not—coated my hands. The scent of scorched iron and sweat filled the air. I turned my gaze toward Finn, who was racked upside down on the darksteel door, pinned there like a twisted trophy. His limbs dangled unnaturally, but that damned grin of his hadn’t left his face. The Grillir are inside. My eyes narrowed at the heavy door. The tension in my gut twisted tighter. Did Vellin break inside already?

  As if reading my thoughts, Finn—still upside down—chuckled and said, "Vellin's off to fight Toda."

  My heart nearly stopped. You idiot! I yelled, "He stands no chance! Toda is on Leo's level!"

  Finn laughed maniacally, voice echoing through the corridor like a mad prophet, "Are you sure about that?" What’s he mean? My fists clenched.

  He continued, "Toda, for his strength, is cocky. He thinks he is Obsidian. He's going to mess up at one point." I stared at him, unable to mask the fury rising in my chest. I hope he isn’t saying what I think he’s saying. I stepped closer, eyes blazing.

  I roared, "There's absolutely no way! You misjudged Vellin if you think that!"

  Finn wasn’t finished ruining my day. His grin widened. "I sensed men behind this door. But it wasn’t even close to the amount of warriors the Grillir had. There’s less than ten people alive in here. My job’s already done! Haha!"

  Finn, you bastard. My stomach churned. We could’ve used them. We needed them. Leo told us to kill the Grillir, but I had other plans—I planned to use them. It was the smarter play. The right play. Now Ewan will have no reason to trust me, no reason to join our ranks. He’ll see a pile of corpses and become broken. This is not going the way I expected. Every piece on the board is sliding out of position.

  I raised my head.

  There's no time to wallow in what could’ve been. I need to catch up to Vellin—before it’s too late.

  I left Finn, acting all cool, but I have no idea where Toda is. We thought he might’ve been near where the Grillir were held—some desperate hope that he’d linger close to his victims—but we were proven wrong. No sign. The streets continued its silence. From the rooftop of a small, run-down clothing shop, I scouted the frozen roadways below. That’s when I saw him—a lone boy, barely older than ten, standing in the middle of the street. He was shivering, arms clutched tightly around himself. His clothes were too thin for the snow-covered city.

  And yet, he stared directly at me. No one else was out. Just him, alone under the falling snow.

  I backflipped off the roof, landing softly in a crouch on the snowy ground below. The cold bit at my exposed fingers as I stood, staring back at the child. He looked hesitant, unsure. Then, reaching into his coat pocket, he pulled out a folded piece of paper. His hand trembled as he thrust it forward.

  "Take it..." he said.

  I took the note carefully, flattening it against my palm. The parchment was stiff from the cold, the ink elegant and annoyingly cheerful.

  In elaborate handwriting, it read:

  "Hey, Vellin!

  I told the boy here to stand in the middle of the street when he heard movement. I also told him only to give this paper to someone with brown hair, which is you! If someone else came by, the boy would give them false directions. Since it’s you, you get the privilege of knowing! I’m not actually in Hasfra. I’m on the outskirts in this cave. It should be north of where you are. The mountains, friend! If you make it here, I will tell you my plan!"

  What an immature man. I let out a dry exhale and tossed the paper aside, watching it drift through the wind before landing face-down in the snow. I looked back at the boy, who still hadn’t moved. His lips were blue. I patted him gently on the head and said, “Go inside now. It’s cold.”

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  He bolted to my right, disappearing behind a weathered wooden door that creaked open just in time to let him through. Someone had been watching—waiting. I bet it was frightening for him. It will be even more frightening for Toda when I find him.

  Ten minutes later..

  There it is.

  A massive opening yawning in the side of the mountain, the mouth of a beast waiting to swallow me whole. Sharp winds scraped across my face, but even they couldn’t mask the faint, unmistakable crackle of fire echoing from within.

  I wasn’t far from Hasfra anymore—maybe a few miles. But Caleb and Finn wouldn’t catch up for a while. If they were even still alive.

  I narrowed my eyes and dashed inside. The cave swallowed me in darkness as the snow and cold died behind me. The stone underfoot shifted from icy to dry, smoothened by years of erosion. It wasn’t a deep cave—couldn’t have been, given how quickly the sound of fire grew louder.

  I reached a sharp right turn, skidded on the rock, and steadied myself with one hand against the wall. No snow had reached this far in. Barely any light either, save for the growing orange glow at the bend’s end.

  And then I saw him.

  At the deepest part of the cave, Toda sat beside a modest campfire. A tent leaned lazily against the stone wall, and Toda himself reclined in a chair far too elegant for a place like this. It looked absurdly comfortable—cushioned, with iron studs along the seams—and made his posture all the more arrogant.

  He poured himself a cup of tea, not even looking at me.

  "Finally," he said smoothly. "I wasn't sure whether to expect you this afternoon or tonight."

  He’s so comfortable. I’m jealous. No tension in his shoulders, no weight on his back. What’s his goal here?

  I asked, "Why aren't you protecting Ebon or sending subordinates in your stead?"

  He took a sip and responded like we were old friends catching up, "This was so important I had to come here myself."

  I mocked him, letting my voice carry venom. "So Ebon is defenseless, huh?"

  He smiled, lips thin. "No. The Goko Twins are there. So are a hundred officers and three hundred soldiers."

  I didn’t let my guard drop for even a second. My body was tight. "So what was your plan?"

  He placed the teacup carefully on the rocky floor, still half full. "To kill the three strongest in Sun. Excluding Leo, of course."

  That doesn’t make sense. The three strongest... Caleb, Finn, and me?

  He continued, eyes on the fire. "The Grillir were going to be an asset, but each of them were so hellbent on fighting for 'good' reasons. Funny, ain't it? I was giving them what they wanted, but they still didn't ally with me. I made use out of one of them though..."

  Ewan.

  My stomach turned. "Ewan had no chance of saving his people, did he?"

  Toda chuckled, low and cruel. "No chance at all. They've been starving for a month. Only the fattest ones are still alive. They baited you three here, which is what I wanted."

  Even if that’s the case, does he really think we’re that weak?

  Toda rose from his chair with fluid grace. The firelight flickered across his body, and a heavy presence rolled off him like a storm tide. My hair stood on end. His killing intent hit me like an invincible rock—overpowering mine instantly, smothering it.

  "Isn't it weird how my soldiers just let you in?" he asked with a grin. "It would take hundreds of them to take even you down, but still. I will kill you here, while my men will kill Caleb and Finn. If Geralt, Zion, and Ewan kill them, all the merrier. If they fall, they'll be too weak to fight back against the top ten of the Haku Mercenary Association. Oh! That's not even counting the two hundred officers that surround the Blademasters Headquarters."

  My breath came short. My throat was dry. I had only one question to ask. One that clung to the last thread of hope. "Let's say you do kill us three. What about Kaiguro, Alexander, and Leo?"

  He began to walk toward me, his footfalls unhurried but heavy with purpose. "My remaining Minerals and I will take them out in an all-out assault in sixteen days."

  He raised one fist, the air around it bending subtly—reinforced with invisible force. My heart pounded louder than the crackling fire. "That's enough," he said, voice dropping into something colder, crueler. "It's fun to dramatize things sometimes. So boring when you have whatever you want." His eyes locked onto mine like twin daggers. "Are you ready, Vellin?"

  I began taking off my jacket, the fabric stiff with half-frozen sweat. "I'm ready."

  I’m not ready.

  Just from his killing intent, I can barely move. I don’t know if Caleb or Finn are alive. I don’t know if I’ll make it out of here. But I have to believe in them—as much as I want to believe in myself. Finn was wrong. This isn’t about glory. This is about my fellow man. If Toda kills us three and destroys Sun—if he tears down everything we’ve fought for—he won’t stop there. The other clans will fall like dominos. Eventually, all resistance will be crushed.

  Progress will cease. Happiness will turn to ash. Suffering will be worse than it’s ever been.

  I have to kill him. I have to stop this.