'Eighteen minutes.'
Elias counted the seconds in his head as he vaulted over a chimney stack. That was all the time he had left before the volatile, divine strain of the fox beast's power burned completely through his biological tolerance and knocked him out cold.
Eighteen minutes until everything went to hell if he didn't figure out an exit strategy.
Behind him, the Inquisitors were closing in.
Three Votaries. And all of them were trying to kill him.
'I wonder what the expressions on their faces are going to be when they finally figure out what my real plan was all along,' he thought with a silent chuckle.
Right now, however, he didn't have the luxury of reminiscing.
Directly on his heels leaped Layl, her eyes locked onto him with terrifying, glacial focus. Layl's trait was The Justice, an authority that held absolute dominion over empathy and emotional states. Her first Resonant allowed her to perceive the weight of emotional states like an objective, scale—translating every surge of adrenaline, fear, or anger into concrete, numerical values where each number carried a specific meaning of behavioral volatility. Her second Resonant was the terrifying ability to strike an adversary's emotional scale directly, inflicting divine judgment upon their feelings. By declaring one of their emotions "unbalanced," she could force its metaphysical weight to crash down upon them like a physical avalanche.
Her eyes narrowed. She was studying him, cataloging his movements, searching for a pattern. She had tried to use her first Resonant on him but when she looked at Agent Orange, she saw nothing.
His emotional weight was hidden behind a wall of whimsical eccentricity—a chaotic, ever-shifting mask of ever changing numbers that made it impossible to get a proper read. It was as if his entire personality was designed to frustrate her ability.
'He must be using some kind of high-grade artifact,' Layl thought.
'Something that jams perception-based Resonants.'
Flanking her with terrifying, calculated precision was Dmitri, whose trait was The Tower, granting him sovereign authority over perception. Dmitri's first Resonant allowed him to instantly sense any lie, illusion, or falsehood in his vicinity, while his second Resonant gave him the raw capacity to reflect that deceit right back at the sender.
He was also facing a similar problem. When he looked at Agent Orange, he sensed... everything.
The fox mask. The mist form. The chakrams. The prince on his back. Every single element of Agent Orange's being was a lie. A falsehood. An illusion layered upon illusion. But he couldn't tell where one lie ended and another began. He couldn't redirect the falsehood back because he couldn't isolate a single thread of truth.
"It's like trying to grab smoke," Dmitri muttered, his kusarigama whirling. "Everything about him is a lie. I can't get a grip on anything."
And Yulan...
Her trait was The Strength. Yulan's first Resonant allowed her to perceive the intimate integration of a person's body, mind, and soul—instantly reading how well they were unified or how fractured they had become under stress. She could pinpoint precisely where trauma, possession, or spiritual damage had created a disconnection, effectively reading a target's structural weak points like a medical chart. Her second Resonant allowed her to physically reinforce her body with her soul—not just manifesting its Presence, but fusing the two to boost her baseline physicality to monstrous extremes. Users of this trait were uniquely adept at more refined use of their Presence to subtly bend and warp the physical world around them.
She too had tried peering at his weaknesses in order to exploit them but
Agent Orange was... whole.
Frustratingly, impossibly whole. His body, mind, and soul were so perfectly integrated that she couldn't find a single weakness to exploit.
Except for one thing.
"The mask," Yulan said quietly, her eyes narrowing. "His mask is the anchor. If we can at least remove it, we can get a proper read on him."
Layl nodded. "Then we take him out by focusing on the mask on the mask."
'Seventeen minutes, forty-five seconds,' Elias thought grimly.
'And now they wanna unmask me. Gosh, I feel like such a celeb right now!'
"Hey, meat heads! If you wanna take my mask you're gonna have to catch me first!"
He vaulted another rooftop, his mist form flowing around the chimney and reforming on the other side. The three Inquisitors followed, their movements seamless, coordinated.
'They're good,' Elias admitted. 'Really good.'
Layl lunged first, her hook swords slicing through the air in a pattern that seemed random but was anything but. Elias twisted, letting the blades pass through his mist form—but the attack wasn't aimed at him. It was aimed at the rooftop beneath his feet.
CRACK.
The tiles gave way, and Elias stumbled, his balance thrown off. He caught himself on a chimney, using the gravity-altering armband to reduce his weight and propel himself upward.
"Nice try!" he called, his voice echoing with that strange, whimsical quality the Yako form gave him.
"You'll have to do better than that!"
There was a flash of black and Elias instinctively threw himself backward just as a bolt of light shot past his ear. He twisted toward the source and saw, perched up on a roof a dozen meters away was the crossbowman—the one from the museum.
"Rude!" Elias shouted, quickly diving into a nearby window and began to maneuver through obstacles as mist in order to confuse the sniper and avoid getting shot. It seemed to work for the most part but the guy was good and only missed his subsequent shots because of Elias erratic movements. The shots missed Elias by mere inches and the afterimages burned into his vision.
He decided to use the gravity armband to redirect the next bolt with a precisely angled gravity pulse. The arrow curved harmlessly away, striking and destroying a nearby chimney.
Layl lunged.
Her hook swords spun in a deadly arc, the Phantom Blade Style guiding her movements. Deception. Misdirection. Illusion. Her attacks seemed to come from everywhere at once—a slash from the left that was actually a feint, a thrust from the right that dissolved into a spinning kick.
Clang! Swish!
Elias parried with his chakrams, the Stellar Aegis Style flowing through his limbs. Balance. Redirection. Perfect Counter. He met her attacks with minimal motion, turning her momentum against her.
But Dmitri was there, his kusarigama whipping through the air. The chain wrapped around Elias's ankle, and Dmitri yanked—
Elias dissolved into mist, reforming a few feet away with his butt facing them.
He raised a leg and slapped his backside mockingly.
"Not good enough doofus!" he said with a grating laugh.
Dmitri didn't answer as Yulan jumped towards him.
Her pudao was a blur of steel, the Sunbreaker Style driving her forward with explosive, overwhelming force. Every swing was meant to be a finisher, every strike designed to incinerate the opposition before they could form a defense.
Elias met her with the Stellar Aegis, his chakrams deflecting her blows, his body flowing around her attacks. But she was relentless. Her assault was unceasing, devastating, and Elias found himself being pushed back. Dmitri and Layl appeared from the sides and began to box him with a pincer attack using their Phantom Blade style. Elias would almost get impaled or slashed by Yulan's polearm anytime he turned his attention to the other two.
The sniper had stopped shooting anytime he was entangled with the other three so as to not hit them but the moment he tried to break away, the shots started again so he was forced to use the inquisitor trio as a cover.
'Man that sharpshooters annoying! And this chick with the spear! She's the main damage dealer, he realized. The other two are just trying to distract me while she overwhelms me. I'm lucky I can turn to mist, otherwise I would have been sliced to pieces via one of their sword styles.'
He needed to break their formation.
Golden flames erupted from his chakrams, washing over the rooftop in a wave of heat and light and flowing downward toward the people. Layl and Dmitri dove aside, but Yulan charged through, her soul-reinforced body enduring the flames.
"It's not hot you guys, we can fight through it!" she yelled.
"Persistent little wench!" Elias laughed, and he summoned more fire, shaping it to resemble golden water that flowed off the roof and washed over the people below to engulf the entire block and from the waters, a massive serpentine dragon that coiled around the entire block.
The dragon roared, its golden scales shimmering in the night. It wasn't real—just a construct of flame and intent—but it was convincing enough to make the Inquisitors pause.
"He's stalling!" Yulan yelled, swatting the construct away with her pudao and charging through the gold.
"Then stop him!" Lalyl cursed, following with Dmitri.
Dmitri swung his weapon forcing Elias to jump just as Yulan launched herself upward from under him, her pudao aimed at Elias's chest. He twisted, letting the blade pass through his misty form, and exploding into a mist that covered the area. He created one more dragon construct and then he was gone—soaring over the rooftops, the dragon's coils and the mist providing cover for his escape.
'Twelve minutes.'
Elias landed on a rooftop overlooking the docks. The burned-out husks of the Rustmark Trading Company warehouses sprawled below him, their skeletal remains silhouetted against the smoke-filled sky.
The Inquisitors were still behind him, but he had bought himself some distance.
He looked over his shoulder at the prince who had passed out at some point during his fight.
"Aw man, he should have been awake to witness my moves against those three. Then again, its good that he's finally shut up. Hey, weren't this guy's attendants also following me? Where they at?" He glanced around.
"Hmm, well I guess they're not really important to this chapter." He shrugged.
A flash of black—
He ducked, the arrow passing inches above his head.
"Tch, the bastard is still locked on to me."
He looked around for a place to hide and saw the burned-down warehouses of the Rustmark Trading Company (RTC). He could see that there was a gathering of people there on inspection and from that gathering he heard a familiar voice.
"—completely destroyed! Do you have any idea how much this is going to cost us?"
'Wait, is that...?'
Quinlan Rustmark stood amid the wreckage, his arms gesturing wildly as he berated a older man who could only be his father. His spectacles were askew, his usually immaculate clothes rumpled.
"I told you not to come," the older man said wearily. "I'd have handled the inspection and made the workers start rebuilding on my own."
"Nonsense, this is my company too!" Quinlan snapped back with characteristic arrogance.
"It's my company too! I'm the one who's going to inherit it, aren't I? I have every right to be here, to check inventory shrinkage and make sure there is a concise asset write-off!"
Nine minutes remaining.
Elias grinned beneath his mask.
The physical strain of holding the Yako form was beginning to manifest as a , throbbing drumbeat behind his eyes. He knew he was going to black out from the sheer exhaustion once the timer hit zero any moment from now. He needed to offload his human backpack right now, and retire under the watch of someone he trusted.
Well, he didn't really trust Quinlan like that, he barely even knew the guy but the same could be said about Mari and he had an agreement with her and she trusted this boy. So while Quinlan was undeniably proud and arrogant enough to potentially hand him over to the Inquisition out of spite, he was also pragmatic enough—and present enough—to serve as a temporary drop point.
'Perfect.'
He dropped from the sky, landing directly in front of Quinlan with a flourish.
Thud.
Quinlan, his father and the men and guards standing with them shrieked, stumbling backward in sheer terror as the smoky, masked phantom materialized out of nowhere.
"Wha—who—"
"Here. Watch him for me, Quin," Elias said breezily, unceremoniously dumping the unconscious Leon with a muffled oof and patting the stunned boy on the shoulder.
Quinlan stared at the prince. Then at the masked figure. Then back at the prince.
But even through the shock, a single word echoed in his brain.
'Quin?'
Not even his own family called him that. There was only one person—well, technically there were two people now—who ever dared shorten his name like that.
Before Quinlan could choke out a question, Elias spun on his heel. "Toodles!"
"Wait—!"
But Elias was already gone, soaring back toward the Inquisitors.
Five minutes.
He landed on a rooftop and turned to face his pursuers.
Layl, Dmitri, and Yulan landed in a triangle around him, their weapons drawn.
"No more running?" Layl asked, her voice cold.
"Running?" Elias feigned confusion and looked around.
"Who's running?" he asked with a laugh.
He attacked.
The Stellar Aegis Style flowed through him as he met their attacks—Layl's hooks, Dmitri's chain, Yulan's pudao. He deflected, redirected, countered. But they were coordinated, their styles syncing with each other perfectly.
Layl feinted left, drawing his attention. Dmitri's chain wrapped around his ankle, yanking him off balance. Yulan lunged, her pudao aimed at his chest—
He dissolved into mist, reforming behind them.
But they were ready. They spread out circling and attacking him from all sides as they constantly changed position.
Despite this overwhelming number and force, there was a deadlock.
The Phantom Blade Style employed by Layl and Dmitri relied entirely on deception, misdirection, and illusion—a combat rhythm built on unpredictability and confusion. This heavily contradicted the redirection and counter attack philosophy of his Steller Aegis Style, giving them a sharp edge. However, their partner in motion—Yulan, who practiced the Sunbreaker style focused on explosive power, and unceasing, devastating attacks was also contradicted directly by said Stellar Aegis Style.
By actively parrying Yulan's heavy, overwhelming strikes and using her momentum to disrupt Layl and Dmitri's misdirections, Elias managed to throw the Inquisition's elite teamwork completely off balance.
Clang! Crack!
Sparks showered the ground as Layl's hook swords slashed past his ribs. Dmitri swept low with his kusarigama, aiming to hobble him, but Elias caught the chain by bouncing one silver chakram on the ground at the right moment.
Yet, his body was giving out. His vision flickered violently at the edges.
With a synchronized battle cry, Layl, Yulan, and Dmitri closed in from three directions, their synced Presence locking him in place.
Layl spun, her hook sword catching his chakram and tearing it from his grip. It vanished in a puff of smoke. Yulan jumped tackling him to the ground and and wrapped herself around his right arm in an arm bar Dmitri's chain wrapped around his other arm and he dropped to one knee and pulled.
"Got you!" Layl screamed as she sat on his abdomen, her hand lunging forward to rip the Kitsune mask straight off his face.
With his final ounce of remaining Flow, he summoned the Jade Dagger.
The ruby gem embedded in the dagger's guard instantly flared with a blinding, terrifying crimson light.
"Bloody Wonderland."Elias whispered.
BOOM!
A massive fragment of an ancient, domain manifested outward, instantly dyeing the entire city block in a thick, suffocating crimson haze. The psychic onslaught was absolute. Operating as a devastating mental shockwave, the domain swept across the area, bypassing physical armor to slam directly into the minds of Layl, Yulan, Dmitri, and every inquisitor and bystander within a hundred-yard radius.
The three elite Votaries stiffened under its influence. Their eyes glazed over as their consciousnesses were violently paralyzed by the conceptual weight of the domain, crashing down into unconsciousness one by one as the crimson mist began to fade.
Elias staggered, gasping for air, his own energy completely depleted by the artifact's activation. But before he too would black out, he fumbled with a pre-installed spatial talisman stitched into his lining.
Flick.
With a quiet hum, the talisman activated, teleporting his collapsing, demorphing body straight to the other talisman which he had placed on Quin when he patted him on the shoulder. He appeared in one of the destroyed RTC warehouses where Quin was standing alone.
Quin jumped as a body materialized directly at his feet out of thin air. Looking down, he stared at the unconscious, disheveled form of Elias—his mask having slipped off to rest beside his cheek.
'Elias?'
Before Quinlan could even process the impossible reality, a chorus of heavy boots and panicked shouts echoed from outside the courtyard.
"Over here! Clear the perimeter!" an inquisitor's voice barked
"We can't let him escape!"
"What's going on out there?" Quin asked.
"Young master" one of the terrified servants stammered from the entrance.
"The Inquisition... they're combing the entire district. They say they are looking for a terrorist in a fox mask!"
"Fox mask..." Quin repeated, returning his gaze back to the unconscious boy. His eyes lingered on the kitsune mask for a moment.
"Young master?"
"It's nothing," Quinlan snapped sharply.
"Prepare my carraige, I'm going home."
"Yes young master." The servant said with a bow and left just as quin bent down and hoisted Elias's limp body over his shoulder, tucking the mask into his robes.
Back up on the rooftops,
Layl groaned, shaking her head as she forced herself back to upright posture. She slammed her fist against the stone tiles, her face flushed with incandescent fury. Mmebers of the Inquisition had appeared to help the people who had been caught up in the crimson haze.
"He slipped through our fingers again?!" she roared, her voice trembling with rage.
Yulan and Dmitri struggled to their feet, rubbing their aching temples from the lingering psychic backlash of the crimson haze.
"Calm down, Layl," Yulan urged, wincing.
"We'll find him," Dmitri added.
Before Layl could scream another retort, a messanger scrambled up the rooftop access ladder, breathless and wide-eyed.
"Senior Inquisitor Layl! Word from the inner districts! The... the riots have completely stopped!"
Layl froze, turning her furious gaze on the messenger.
"What ?!"
"It's true, ma'am! Reports are flooding in from five separate locations across the capital. The mob... they've dispersed. The city is calming down!"
Layl stared blankly, utterly bewildered.
Unknown to her, during the chaotic chase across the city, Elias had deployed four mist clones to slip away into the crowds at some point after he left the palace wall. While those clones operated independently, they had continuously drawn energy from him, the main body.
He had used them to channel Tamamo's sacred golden flames—not to harm civilians, but to incinerate and neutralize the volatile Black Dandy aerosol pockets lingering in the air, while simultaneously burning away their immediate rage and feelings of riot disguised under flamboyant, disruptive theatrics. The citizens' underlying resentment remained, but the chemical frenzy had been purged, leaving them sober enough to realize the madness and return to their homes.
She turned, staring out over the city. The fires were still burning, but the crowds were gone. The streets were emptying.
"What is his goal?!" she demanded. "What is Agent Orange trying to do?! Why-"
She punched a hole in a nearby wall sending a web of cracks across it.
Yulan and Dmitri looked at each other, confusion written on their faces as Layl threw an absolute, earth-shattering tantrum, screaming into the empty air.
None of them had an answer.