“Stop talking and fight me with your actions,” Mathias said with a snort. He crossed his arms over his chest and bent his knees, sitting onto the ground. “If you want my position, then come and take it. As long as I stay in this spot, the position of chieftain is mine.” His tail swished as his eyes closed. The limp stone hands by his side reached out of the earth, forming arms that took fighting positions.

“So this is how it’s going to be,” Vasher said as his brow furrowed. “I really didn’t want to do this, Mathias, but you’ve forced my hand.” He swept his arm outwards, gesturing towards the centaurs who hadn’t crowded around him. “Everyone saw. I gave you a chance to step down peacefully, but you didn’t accept it. You can’t blame me for what happens next.” Mathias didn’t say anything in response, keeping his eyes closed. Vasher ground his teeth together. “Then so be it.”

Vasher raised his hand, creating a vortex of wind in front of his palm. It spiraled and glowed with a silver light, rotating faster and faster until a cone was formed. His brow furrowed as he turned his head and looked up. A faint scream was growing louder and louder, drowning out the sound of his projectile.

“I don’t want this! I don’t like this! I really don’t want this! Make it stop!”

A flying, white-skinned, brown-furred centaur with blonde hair soared through the air, her body wrapped in a black light. She tumbled with her legs kicking in all directions while flailing her arms, but no matter how she moved, she was unable to divert her course. Tears fell from her face and dropped to the ground like a few drops of rain. Mathias’ eyes opened and widened as he was greeted by the sight of his daughter flying straight towards him.

“Cherri!?” Mathias shouted and stood on his hind legs to give himself extra reach—catching her with a stone hand would’ve been a bad idea. His upper two arms managed to grab her, but knocked him off balance, causing both of them to tumble to the ground. The black glow around Cherri’s body disappeared as a tiny whimper escaped from her lips. “Cherri? What are you doing here? I purposely sent you away. How did you…?”

“It was his fault!” Cherri said and pointed towards the entrance of the habitat. Mathias squinted and saw the archbishop standing in front of a group of non-centaurs.

“The archbishop?” Mathias asked and furrowed his brow. He’d recognize that red body with its fancy silver tattoos anywhere. “What is he doing out of the holy ground?”

Milky white words appeared over the archbishop’s head before Cherri could reply. They read, “Don’t forget what you’re there to do, Cherri. I’m watching you. You saw for yourself what would happen if you don’t do it.”

Murmurs rang through the crowd of centaurs, and Vasher stopped his attack, turning his attention towards the archbishop as well. “Vasher greets the archbishop,” the green centaur said, projecting his voice with his powers of wind while bowing his head. The archbishop began traversing up the mountainous terrain with Palan and Justitia. Raea and Cory had taken to the air.

“What’s going on, Cherri?” Mathias whispered to his sitting daughter as the centaurs waited for their spiritual leader to arrive. He frowned. His daughter seemed more anxious than usual. “You didn’t anger him, did you? Even if you did, don’t worry about it. I can take care of any problem.”

Cherri bit her lower lip. “That’s not it,” she said and met her father’s gaze. “I think there’s one problem that you can’t solve though.” Her head lowered as she inhaled through her nose and breathed through her mouth. Mathias waited for his daughter to calm down, doing nothing but patting her back. Cherri’s body stopped trembling, and she raised her head. Her eyes were unwavering as she stared down Mathais. She spoke slowly, enunciating each word, “I’m going to become the new tribe leader.”

Mathias blinked as his hand froze. “Pardon?” he asked. “I believe I misheard.”

“You didn’t,” Cherri said as she stood up and shook her head. Mathias remained in the half-kneeling position he adopted earlier to comfort his daughter. Cherri exhaled and clenched her hands while looking down at her father. “I’m going to replace you as tribe leader.”

Mathias’ brow furrowed. “Do you understand what you’re saying?” he asked as he rose to his feet. He towered two heads over his daughter, but she didn’t flinch, placing her hands on her hips instead. “Take the position of tribe leader? Do you think you’re strong enough? Vasher could kill you with a fart.”

Cherri’s face twitched at her father’s crude words. “I have a backer,” she said and pursed her lips as she thought of Palan. “A really scary, terrifying, bullying backer, but a backer nonetheless. I don’t know why he’s helping me—actually, that’s probably the archbishop’s doing too—but anyways, I can take care of myself.”

“Is your backer stronger than me?” Mathias asked and raised an eyebrow. When had Cherri met someone like that in the underground world? His head turned towards the approaching archbishop. His gaze landed on Palan, causing his body to tense. Before, Palan was too far away to see in detail, but up close, Mathias recognized him as the demon who ripped off his arm. He asked Cherri in an urgent voice—practically hissing, “Is it him?” He pointed at Palan.

“Yes,” Cherri said and nodded.

“Why is it him?” Mathias asked and scratched his head. “What did you promise to give him? Why is he helping you?”

“I didn’t promise to give him anything,” Cherri said and bit her lower lip. “Honestly, I think he really just wanted to show off his powers to someone. But this was the archbishop’s idea. He didn’t like being pressured by the tribe and … blamed you for being a terrible leader.” Her head lowered.

“Just what has been happening while I was gone?” Mathias asked and furrowed his brow as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Well,” Cherri said. “If you weren’t gone, you’d know, right?”

Mathias was about to reply, but the centaurs below said, “We greet the archbishop!” All their heads lowered as they knelt except for the few leaders of the factions who saluted instead.

The archbishop nodded and held out his hand, palm up. White light spurted out of his hand like a geyser, washing over the centaurs, healing the ones who had been injured during the two archlings’ collision, but the centaurs who died stayed dead. “Don’t mind me,” he said after the light disappeared. “I’m just a spectator.” He glanced at Cherri, causing every other centaur to look at her as well. She gulped.