Xao held her ground against Homer. It was hard to tell who was winning — Homer had his damage reflection, but Xao had her natural regeneration.
The same went for Reiza. Her torn muscle and shattered bone were knitting back together fast, and she was waiting for the moment to jump in and help.
But Homer wasn't stupid. He saw it too — he had to end this before it was too late.
Before he could attack again, a voice rang out through the trees, soft and melodious, carried on the breeze and echoing with a soothing warmth.
"Vesna?" Xao murmured, recognizing the singing at once.
The next moment, golden light swept along the wind like a wave and washed over her body, healing her whole in an instant. Homer, standing a few paces away, got nothing — his small wounds stayed exactly as they were.
A smile spread across Xao's face. She settled into her stance and grinned. "Let's go for one more round."
"No." Reiza's voice came from behind, her hand landing on Xao's shoulder, She too had healed up.
"We don't have time to waste on one enemy," she said. "Let me finish this."
"You sure?" Xao asked, hesitant — and she had reason to be, after Reiza had just been beaten by him minutes ago.
Reiza nodded and stepped forward. "Just stay back a bit. Don't come close to me."
Xao said nothing, just did as she was told and walked several steps behind. Reiza fixed her eyes forward, and in them sat a strange, steady confidence.
"You better not hold back this time, or don't mind me killing you," Homer scoffed.
"I won't," Reiza said, and finally activated her unique skill.
Reiza had always had an offensive skill. She'd even talked about it with Lilith, but she'd never used it much even during her practice— the drawbacks were too heavy.
Right now, though, using it was a must. Simply realizing she was holding back changed nothing. She would need time to practice it out of her system, to unlearn years of instinct.
To fight at her fullest, there was no other choice.
TREMBLEEE!...
Homer's thick legs shook, his eyes going wide.
Nothing around them had changed — and yet the very air seemed to thicken, heavy enough to choke on.
Killing intent. Bloodlust. Far too much of it, all of it aimed straight at him.
Nothing about Reiza looked different, except that her hair drifted slightly on the air, and her eyes had gone wild.
Homer drew one slow breath and took a step back — BAM!...
One second Reiza was standing five meters away. The next, her leg was planted square in his face.
She drove it down, crushing his head into the ground, her leg spinning like a drill, his whole body burrowing into the dirt.
And she didn't stop. The kick carried so much force that her own body sank underground just to push him deeper.
The ground shook — then cracked wide open, and Homer's whole body shot out of it, Reiza right behind him.
Before the damage could even reflect, she started landing thousands of hits a second.
To Xao, it looked like Reiza had sprouted several arms at once.
"Too much... it's too much," Homer couldn't even think straight.
The instant they hit the ground, Reiza hauled his huge body up and, in one smooth motion, ripped him in two.
Homer didn't even have time to react. His eyes blinked a few times, then went still. Dead. Just like that.
"It's over... already?" Xao was in pure shock.
But there was more joy on her face than shock. A wide smile split it as she ran at Reiza.
"We won!" she shouted, arms already open for a hug.
BAM!...
A fist slammed straight into her face, ripping her lower jaw loose in one clean swing.
The punch dropped Xao to her knees, her lower teeth spilling out in a mess of blood, her pretty face ruined.
She looked up. The punch had come from Reiza — her eyes were still wild, gone berserk. She had no mind left to tell friend from foe.
******
Some moments earlier, on the other side of the battlefield, Cryptus and his team were still cutting their way through the mystviel army.
With the dark elves' help, the fight had tipped firmly into Dreadhaven's hands.
"I can feel it — soon they'll all be thinking of destroying that portal. I should push toward it too and help them," Cryptus thought.
He wasn't wrong. The pressure had eased enough to give them a breather, and if not for the enemies keeping them tied up, they'd already be marching on the main base to bring that portal down.
TREMBLEEE!...
All at once, a chill swept through the air, thick with bloodlust. It clearly came from far off — and for it to reach this far and still feel this strong, it had to be someone monstrous, friend or foe, freshly stepped onto the field.
"I need to see whether that's a friend or an enemy," he said to himself.
He turned to his subordinates. Many of them were shaking with fear. It might not have weighed on him, but the others were feeling something else entirely.
"It's coming from that side. Miss Reiza went the same way," one soldier said.
"Baron isn't here for me to send," Cryptus sighed. "Guess we'll have to go and see for ourselves. Maybe Miss Reiza needs help."
"You better worry about yourself, little bone," a voice rang out.
Cryptus turned. A middle-aged man with blue hair stood there, twin daggers in his hands. It was one of the warlords — the Great Thief, Ashford.
He wasn't alone. Three more sub-branch Holy Knights stood with him.
Cryptus snapped to full alert. "Everyone, stay back and wait for my command," he said.
Hearing his cute, idol-like voice, the other knights couldn't help but chuckle.
"A little skeleton leading a pack of demons? They really are dumb," one scoffed.
"Should I shatter his bones with my wind, Sir Ashford?" another asked.
Ashford stayed quiet.
"You've got quite a lot of mana, little skeleton. It's pouring right out of your body," he said.
"Let me introduce myself. I'm Warlord Ashford. Hand over everything and tell me where your leader Scarlett nova is, and I'll spare you and your group."
The other knights traded puzzled looks, a little stung by the offer.
"Sir, what's the point of negotiating with these peasants?" the same one asked.
Ashford smiled. "Because, Doing bullshit like this gives some time for my unique skill to take effect," he answered casually.
"Huh?" Cryptus whipped around — and found all his subordinates on the ground.
Some were barely kneeling, hanging on by a thread. Most lay flat, fighting for breath like every lungful was a boulder to lift.
"How's it feel? Legs too heavy to move? Eyelids carrying the weight of a mountain?" Ashford said, strolling forward.
"I knew fighting and killing you would eat up my time, so I just used my unique skill: Sloth. It makes even breathing a chore."
"You're a genius, Sir Ashford. Thanks to you, we've killed far more enemies than even the main branch holy knights," one subordinate praised.
Cryptus took a step back as Ashford and his men advanced.
"Don't you know skeletons have infinite stamina?" Cryptus shot back.
"Pfft... Dreaming, are we? Skeletons have less stamina than goblins. However i do admit you're quite strong, for a skeleton, to still be standing," Ashford scoffed.
"You're strong too — that's why I won't hold back either," Cryptus said. "Battleform selection."
The words hit him like a hammer filled with pure shock.
"Battleform? Impossible!" Ashford's eyes went wide, Refusing to believe it.
But before he could even think or even scoff that Cryptus was bluffing, his whole body split into two pieces.