Wonderful.

That single word, saturated with all the sarcasm Tanya could muster, summarized the entire situation.

Lukas, her prey-turned-ally-turned-hunter, was currently after her, a wolf chasing a rabbit. The fact that she, even after everything she had been through, had been pushed into the rabbit category spoke volumes about just how far everything had devolved. Thankfully, that ice wall had given her enough of a head start.

It was surreal, it was nasty, and it made no sense. Worse yet, she couldn’t bring herself to throw anything lethal at him. Maybe it was whatever he did to her, or maybe it was her growing attraction toward him. Or maybe it was so she could savor the sensation of being in control of her Frost without giving in.

A rational part of her argued that her Wind Shear would have classified as lethal enough for almost everyone else she had faced in the past. It had been the same technique that had allowed her to single-handedly massacre her way through the Cyffnarian battalion and capture their camp in one go.

But against Lukas?

Ribs exploded. Lungs punctured. His entire front had been blown to bits. She could see splintered bits and ends of bone and cartilage hanging out. Blood was splattered everywhere. Lukas—Lukas had died.

And then—

His lips moved. His body reknit. His muscles were sewn back. Bones reforged. Organs shaped back into place.

That wasn’t healing. That was…that was something else. Something impossible. It was almost like turning back time, if such a thing was possible. That level of rejuvenation wasn’t bremetan. And yet—

It wasn’t the most shocking thing about him.

Tanya had looked down. At his feet.

More specifically, at the shadow forming at his feet.

It was impossible. Shadows formed in the desert because the Eternal Light didn’t penetrate within. But their torches were imbued with the Great Goddess’s blessings. A smidgen of Eternal Light, enough to illuminate everything within a certain radius of the canister.

Even so, Lukas cast a shadow. It was utterly impossible.

Then, the power of Decay? It was the skill of the monster they were fighting. It was impossible that Lukas just so happened to share that particular skill with that monster and yet never used it. It couldn’t be some cosmic coincidence. There had to be a connection. He’d proclaimed the monster was dead, despite her not gaining any Experience.

Had Lukas, by some unfathomable sorcery, stolen the monster’s skill for himself?

No way, Tanya told herself as she ran. No way he’s just an adventurer. He beat me down during an Everfrost frenzy. He can steal skills. By Wind, even Ezzeron is wary of him. And that agility… None of that is normal. And he has a damn shadow! What is he? WHAT IS—

Every hair on her nape suddenly stood on end. Gooseflesh erupted over her body all at once, and a primeval wave of terror flickered through her brain, dislodging every rational thought in her mind.

Tanya didn’t fight those instincts. Instead, she weaved the strongest obdurate bubble of wind around her.

The world gasped and went scarlet as blue-white light flooded through the wall on her left, vaporizing everything it came in contact with and leaving a sea of flames in its wake. The force of the resulting explosion was so powerful that a wall of air buffeted her shield of wind and shattered it, pushing her back by several feet. As the gale of rising dust subsided, she found the wall on the other end splintered from the shock waves. All that remained of the floor was one large crater of melting rock.

Lukas stepped through the newly created hole in the wall, a sphere of liquid light pulsing in his right hand, completely uncaring about the gale of dust and hot wind blowing all around him.

Pyromancy? Pyromancy? What a joke! That wasn’t fire. That was liquid death floating above the center of his palm. Frost or no frost, nothing in her arsenal would be able to kill him. She had seen him regenerate organs in a matter of seconds. Unless she managed to obliterate him entirely in a single strike, there was nothing she could do to stop him from killing her.

This wasn’t a task she could do by herself. She needed help. Elemental help.

Wind would be useless against such intense flames. Frost could be a useful counter, but it would stalemate him at best. And that was ignoring his powers of decay, though maybe she could use Frost to dilute the lifeforce in it and neutralize its power. The only thing remotely useful in her arsenal was Pressure-based. Olfric’s kami wouldn’t work either, which only left—

Zuken. Surrounded by his element all around, the Banksi’s Terramancy would be at his peak. With his help and a well-timed Pressure spell, she could—

Her heart fluttered with hope, and something uglier.

—she could kill him.

But do I want to do that? After all, he’s—

Tanya shook her head. “Why are you attacking me?” she demanded of him.

A malevolent grin formed on Lukas’s lips.

He hissed something under his breath, and hurled the sphere toward her. Giving in to her instincts, Tanya slashed her right hand and sent a lance of pure frost right at it. The air shimmered as fire and frost met each other in a swirling mass of steam.

Tanya didn’t bother to wait. Conjuring a pressure spell, she hurled it into the mist, turned around, and ran, the sounds of the exploding walls and Lukas’s malevolent laughter reverberating in her ears.

She needed to find Zuken. She needed to escape this place.

Before it was too late.

With Ezzeron’s power amplifying her speed, Tanya sprinted into the tunnel, scurrying away for dear life.