Turning back the clock to the time when Fin was still trapped in his nightmare. At that moment, Ange had released herself from her own nightmare and the miniature womb, the yellow liquid filled bulb that contained her, fell towards the world below, landing on the balcony of the temple.

“Whe-Where am I? Fin?” Ange asked, sluggishly looking from side to side. “Hanna? Are you there? I heard your voice.” Ange called out for the friend she fell asleep together with, for the friend that she heard while she was in her nightmare.

“I’m here,” Hanna said from behind Ange. Though Ange hadn’t seen her, Hanna had manifested from thin air at the call.

“Hanna! Where are we? You helped me didn’t you?”

Ange crawled over to Hanna, now a child, and didn’t even bat an eye, instead she touched the girl’s face like a doting parent would. “Hanna, what did I see? Are you okay?”

Ange’s thoughts were in disarray; the nightmare that she had just been released from wasn’t her own; no, instead it was a nightmare born of both Ange’s AND Hanna’s fears, though Ange had not put that together just yet.

“I am fine,” Hanna replied, her eyes still half closed like she was going to fall asleep at any second. “This is the temple, Ange. This is the temple I have to protect.”

Ange looked around, squinting her eyes, the glow in her helm’s eye sockets narrowing slightly. “I can’t see well… But,” Ange turned back to her friend, “Hanna, is there a treasure in the temple?”

Ange was going out on a limb; there were so many things to ask, but there was an order, a priority in her mind.

“Anything that helps Fin.” Ange’s guiding words; the words she used to justify her actions, to help her friend be done with the task he was given, to help her friend be done with his obsession.

Those words, so strongly present in her mind guided her directly to the possibility that there was something worth hiding in the temple.

“Yes. There’s many. They’re in a room.”

“Can you take me to it, Hanna?” Ange pleaded, taking the child’s hands in her own.

“Yes, I can.” Hanna replied, and with Ange’s hand in her own, she began to innocently walk Ange towards a door into the temple.

***

At roughly the same time that Ange and Hanna joined forces, at the back of the temple another dreamer fell towards the ground. From the womb-like orb emerged a black, hulking, armored mass.

A typical looking black helm on a gargantuan set of armor adorned with metal wolf heads on the shoulders. That mass emerged and stood, its hand glistening inexplicably in the strangely lit world.

“So this is the claimed space... “ the figure observed, its husky voice echoing out of its helm, the echoes distorting the voice to one that would invoke a chill down the spine for the average listener. “Guide, please appear.”

“Yes?” a little girl, the same that had appeared in front of Ange, said from behind the armored figure.

The figure turned towards the child. “Is there anyone else who is down here? On this level?” The figure asked quickly; there was no telling how surprised the figure was at seeing the child.

“Yes,” Hanna replied.

“Give me the details of the people on this level.”

“There’s one.” Hanna sleepily replied, “Her name is Ange, she’s my friend.”

The figure listened and spoke without losing a moment, “What does she look like?”

“She has a skull on her head and… bones on her elbows I think.”

“How convenient,” the figure said before turning away. “Thank you, guide.”

Hanna, only living out her function, innocently followed behind the hulking mass, not a single shred of fear inspired by the figure that would make the ground tremble with every step.

***

Returning to the proper flow of time, a young man, frantic and terror-stricken ran towards the ancient castle-like temple, followed by a manifestation of the being that oversaw the dreamspace.

“Teach!” Fin yelled, “Blood Claw is here! Teach, can you hear me?”

“I-I can! Sorry,” Deleim responded. The sudden news had struck her heart hard in the outside world. “Should I look for the Blood Claw?” Though her voice was filled with urgency, the cracks of sudden fear were apparent within it.

“No!” Fin shouted into the sky, ”We took Hanna from them! They know what she is! They had her locked in a box! If they know what she is, it might not be just the Blood Claw here! Don’t!” Fin’s mind went to the worst case, “Retribution; many of them might be here to swarm us and take Hanna back!”

Though Fin was one to listen to Deleim in most regards, there was only one arena in which Deleim stood behind Fin, and that was in all matters regarding the Blood Hounds group. It was for that reason that outside in the real world, barely dressed Deleim with a makeshift mask covering her face, breathed a sigh of relief. Though, that sigh of relief was painful once she realised it was her. Fin didn’t know, but in that moment, Deleim brought her head closer to Fin’s sleeping face and shed a few tears due to the painful recognition of her cowardice. The sleeping young man that she dragged out of a smoke filled room was the only comfort Deleim had.

***

Meanwhile, the hulking figure stood in front of the smaller skull knight. Ange, knew who appeared in front of her, here in this deserted, stone brick, hallway.

Ange had just come from the treasure chamber, having taken the treasure she identified as one of the treasures that Fin needed to find. At the sign of danger, she handed the treasure over to Hanna and told her to give it to Fin once he woke up; she prayed that the Blood Claw wasn’t after that treasure as well.

Ange’s eyes fell to the little girl next to the figure she identified as the Blood Claw. They then flew to the identical little girl next to her.

“Hanna,” she quietly asked, “Is that you over there?”

“Yes,” Hanna replied.

“You and her, neither of you are the original you?”

“No. We’re just projections.”

Intelligence; that was one of Ange’s defining factors. Always a good student, Ange had taken to heart all the lessons and advice Deleim had ever given the pair. Especially when it concerned ruins and the treasures therein, the relics; she had learned of all manner of phenomena and mechanisms that one could encounter. An identical little girl being in multiple places at the same time; the explanations for such a thing could be narrowed down with simple questions.

“Hanna,” Ange said, “You might not be capable of getting hurt, but try to not get caught in the crossfire, okay? That goes for the other you too.”

Ange gave her warning sweetly though Hanna didn’t understand the implications of her words when she innocently replied with an “Okay.”

Strangely enough the figure, the Blood Claw, didn’t move, instead just standing in front of Ange. Ange’s eyes returned to her enemy and stared the armored figure down for a few more breaths.

After the fifth breath, Ange’s left arm snapped to her leg, and she pulled out a cylindrical rod, one of her many fire rods that she kept strapped to her leg.

For anyone watching, the rod appeared from thin air; the only one who didn’t believe that was Ange. In the world ruled by perception, Ange’s self image trumped the world’s perception of Ange, and for Ange her many tools were a vital part of her identity. Though she didn’t know how a world of perception worked, she was able to operate within it, guided only by habits she formed in waking life.

She pulled a second rod from her other leg and fired two fireballs at the mass, each ball originating from the respective tips of her rods. The crackle of the flame signaled the battle’s start.

“Anything that helps Fin.” Ange’s motto came back into the forefront; it was the only thing that let her move past the fear that the Blood Claw instilled in her all those years ago.

Whether she would win or lose, the Blood Claw was in front of her of all people. She couldn’t just run. That person’s appearance in front of her must have had some significance. Ange could draw many options in her mind; if even one of those options was fatal to Fin, she couldn’t take the chance. That is why skull knight Ange ran forward.

The first set of fireballs hit, and she followed up with more fireballs from the two rods she held.

The fireballs kept exploding, flame and smoke erupting from the points of impact. Though the figure was engulfed in flame, from where the fireballs continued to hit, Ange could tell her enemy had yet to fall; not that she expected that nice outcome. Unswept by wishful fantasy, Ange ran straight for the right claw.

“The Blood Claw is right-handed.” A scene from years ago, of Fin telling Ange of some little tidbits he’d learned of the Blood Claw was readily available, informing Ange’s moves.

She knew her fireballs wouldn’t do much against armor; maybe causing the Blood Claw to bake inside it was the most she hoped for. Instead she was hoping to launch a fireball while the rod was in the Blood Claw’s armor, and thankfully, the Blood Claw had two convenient openings.

As Ange got closer; mere inches away from where the dominant hand should have been, a shudder, a premonition, a fear reached Ange’s senses. Her left foot landed on the floor hard and twisted so suddenly, had Ange not had her race’s extraordinarily strong bones, her shin would have snapped from her ankle. Propelled by that foot, Ange twisted her body and head out of the way, outwards away from the Blood Claw’s body. From the flame a split second later, a blood covered claw ripped through; the Blood Claw’s opening move passed mere centimeters from Ange’s skull. The force was such that the smoke around the claw dispersed.

Ange, unfettered, threw her weight forward to counter the momentum taking her outward; the opening was right in front of her. She latched onto the Blood Claw’s arm with one hand and with the other, her right, swung in an arc. The rod in the right hand; its tip was jammed into the opening of the armor that let the Blood Claw display its claws freely.

“Got you!” Ange internally screamed.

In the next moment, multiple fireballs were launched from the tip of the rod inside of the Blood Claw’s armor.

Eight fireballs; Ange had time for eight fireballs. At the eighth fireball is when she saw oncoming death, the other claw, coming for her head.

Ange gripped the Blood Claw’s arm hard, and lunged herself beneath the outstretched arm.

Klang!

The sound of metal hitting metal; Ange was tiny, much tinier than the Blood Claw; practically half the size of the armor. Such an abrupt counter from the Blood Claw naturally wouldn’t be precise. Ange ducked beneath the outstretched arm right as the other hand came through. That momentary clash afforded Ange a few extra seconds. She rotated the remaining rod, the one she didn’t use to launch fireballs, so that its other tip was facing the enemy now. In the next instant she activated a thruster like magic that propelled her away from the mass still slightly covered in flame.

Ange’s rods were specially made. Ange had no affinity for fire magic meaning executing fire spells was a little bit harder for her to activate and required more mana. The enchantment spell she typically used to power Fin’s gloves was one such example. Ange’s specially made rods however could execute three simple fire spells so long as Ange poured mana into them. First was the basic fireball; both sets of rods had access to this spell. The second was one that the rods on her left leg could execute, a spell that would propel the rod away at a fast speed. The third, the spell that the rods strapped to her right could execute, was a spell that ejected a sustained blade of fire.

Ange used the second spell, and ended up almost back to where she started. A safe enough distance for her to observe the effects of her first attack.

The Blood Claw’s hulking body emerged from the flames, seemingly unfettered. All Ange could tell was that the Blood Claw’s hidden eyes were focused on her.

“Should I run?” she wondered in a moment of fright.

No.

Fin’s words rang in her skull, “The Blood Claw is a werewolf.”

It was another one of the little tidbits that Fin had been able to dig up over their journey. In this case, it informed Ange’s choices. She was not going to be able to outrun the Blood Claw. She gripped her rods and lowered her body. Not that she wanted to run, beyond a stray thought that visited her mind in a moment of fright.

For Ange, at this moment, knowing she wouldn’t be able to escape was just an excuse to justify meeting the Blood Claw in combat. And in accordance with that mindset, she ran forward.

“Anything that helps Fin!” A battlecry for only her to hear.

At the young woman’s approach, even the Blood Claw was taken aback, hesitating for a small moment. The fierce glow of the girl’s eyes though, sharpened the Blood Claw’s focus. The right hand’s claw was stuck out to the side.

He’s going to claw at me!

Another memory of Fin played back in her mind.

Ange grit her teeth; she was still far away from her enemy who was waiting to claw at her but-

“I know what you do!” Ange yelled as she sharply ducked.

Above her, the sound of a swish- of air being cut reached her ears.

“The blood on that guy’s claws. They’re not so simple. It’s a fakeout. That blood’s true form is-”

Above Ange’s head, vibrant and red, was a thin streak of blood in the shape of a broadsword’s blade.

The sword had been extended, two meters long; the blood that dressed her enemy’s claw had a unique property; that was its true form was a sword made of blood. Its sheathed form was the blood that rested on her enemy’s claw.

Ange’s anger rose at seeing the sword actually come out. She only survived because she knew; because Fin knew. But that information wasn’t like the other bits that Fin had collected. That information came from what Fin had seen first hand.

“The sword that beheaded her!” Ange screamed as she recalled the face of Fin’s mother. She hadn’t seen it, the moment it happened, but she did see Fin’s face as he stared out of the cupboard they hid in.

That sight was forever burned in her mind. And now that sight served as fuel. Ange activated her unique spell, now in this moment that she caught the Blood Claw by surprise; one that she devised for overpowering a much bigger opponent. Her whole body flickered white for a moment and in the next, multiple bony arms sprang from her helm, all flying towards the Blood Claw. They took hold of the Blood Claw’s arms, legs and head; thirty-two arms all exerting their strength to hold her enemy in place.

The plan was not completed yet, Ange executed her second spell. At the base of her spine, after a small flicker of white light, six bony arms and palms sprung out from one spot. Three right arms and three left. Each arm having sprouted, took hold of the remaining rods on Ange’s legs.

A point-blank barrage of fires; surely Ange thought, the enemy couldn’t withstand this.

“The Skull Knight’s Bone Magic, huh?” The enemy’s first remark startled Ange. If her skull helm could sweat, there were beads rolling down it.

The enemy had knowledge of a particular kind of magic that those of the skull knight race had access to and an affinity for, magic that produces bones and allows the manipulation and propagation of their own bones. Not many skull knights ever actually figured out how to use their magic beyond basic armoring and fortification magic however, so Ange was a bit of an oddity in using it in this method.

Ange reclaimed herself from her sudden shock and proceeded boldly. All six of her arms extended towards the Blood Claw’s extended arm, and jammed their rods into the armor just as Ange did before.

“This again?” the Blood Claw scoffed. “Do your best.”

Spurred on by the taunt, Ange let loose a barrage of sixty or so fireballs. After the first twenty-four, fire began to seep out from various spots in the armor, after the next ten, fire burst out from the Blood Claw’s helm, and by the end, fire was finding and making gashes all along the Blood Claw’s armor, trying to find an escape.

Ange was confident, but that confidence was broken when she saw the blade above her head tremble. Immediately she sidestepped to her right, the blade falling right next to her; had she stayed in place, she would have lost an arm.

As soon as she stole a glance at the gash left in the ground, she looked up immediately. In spite of the flames that had yet to subside, she could see it; a yellow glint in the Blood Claw’s helmet.

He’s looking at me.

Ange froze; though the Blood Claw was maybe only a little bit more than twice her size, in that moment, the enemy was like a mountain.

Bones can’t hold up a mountain.

“Huh?” Ange gasped.

She hopped quickly, the sword made of blood swiped at where her shins would have been.

“If it wasn’t for my bones, I-”

“Hmm. I thought skull knights had a bad field of vision, given they’re always wearing helmets,” the Blood Claw remarked. The dying flames’ light signaling to Ange that her enemy had withstood the worst and could still stand to casually remark.

Ange had barely moved her legs out of the way only because of the feedback that her created arms had allowed her. Those arms were connected to Ange’s nervous system, truly, they were extra arms. Ange had done her best with Deleim to formulate the spell formula that would allow her such a level of integration. Had it not been for the complexity of her spell, she would have been a foot shorter. Her efforts had found their reward.

All my effort, all my time preparing. They weren’t wasted!

Ange grit her teeth once more; it was do or die after all.

She rushed the enemy once more, pulling back on the six arms. Once more the enemy was taken by surprise. In her run, Ange pulled a switcheroo. Four hands swapped their contents, and all hands rotated their rods. Two rods in her right set of hands burst into a dagger-like flame at the tip, with one rod in one of her left hands following suit.

“Brave,” the Blood Claw remarked, after seeing what Ange had done.

Ange was now right within arms’ reach; right where she wanted to be. Ange struck out with her fire daggers, aiming for a gap created by metal melting under intense heat. The flame went in, the Blood Claw immediately reacted, like a person swatting at a fly, the right claw broke free with full aim to crush Ange. With one of her left hand rods, Ange activated a thruster spell pushing herself to the left, then another two thruster bursts, one from the left and the right to stabilize her trajectory. She had ended up outside the Blood Claw’s right arm, facing its side. Once more she stabbed in, looking for vulnerabilities in the armor. She found them. Three daggers of flame went in, and many fireballs were launched from her actual hand’s rods all in a bid to obfuscate her exact location.

A heavy groan echoed from the enemy’s helm. Ange, startled by the loudest sound yet blasted herself away to the enemy’s backside, only to feel the arms that grew from her helm falling limp. This time she had not tried to stab the enemy, instead opting to look up. There she saw the bloody sword having just finished it’s arc, severing the arms protruding from her helm.

Ange grit her teeth and activated a spell to retrieve the arms, to reabsorb any resources she could. The Blood Claw swiping at the arms that were readjusting their grip on the armor as she moved was the expected move. She was ready for it, she just wished it hadn’t come so quickly. Now she was quickly reabsorbing the portions still connected so that she could regain her pace.

She blasted herself around the Blood Claw once more ending up in front of her enemy after which she quickly stabbed into the armor with her three created arms, and blasted its face with the rods in her hands. The Blood Claw, now free, retracted the bloody blade and tried to swat her with her right, and she moved once more. And again, with a left-handed swat, only a clang- metal against metal- rang out. A change up, this time a kick, but it was met in kind; a change up came from Ange as well. She boosted herself off the ground with all three thrust-rods, jumping-leaping over the enemy’s body, unleashing fireballs as she made her journey.

Landing, she wasted no time, stabbing away at the black metal. Death by a thousand cuts; that was the current goal. The Blood Claw swung around, a wide log like arm missed Ange’s head; she escaped between the legs, cutting the metal that shielded the taint- that one had to hurt, she would hope.

Dodging the Blood Claw’s moves; that was the current strategy.

I can do this!

Ange’s plan had been working out. Running from the Blood Claw, or engaging the Blood Claw in long distance; that was too risky. The Blood Claw had survived too many battles.

“He would know how to deal with enemies at range,” Ange had thought.

Furthermore, the Blood Claw might have been a werewolf, a race known for significant bouts of irregular speed.

“He might have a high-speed movement technique hidden!”

From the very beginning, Ange had known that her best odds at defeating the Blood Claw lay with approaching the Blood Claw. And now that bet was seeing returns.

“He can’t move very well in close proximity!”

By Ange’s estimation, her size relative to the Blood Claw’s gave her an advantage in only one field, hiding behind the enemy’s stature. Ange was more nimble. She could maneuver in the places that were too awkward to reach both because of discomfort and because of the hulking armor’s size.

The sounds of metal hitting metal; that was the proof. It was too inconvenient; the price for wearing such heavy armor was the sacrificing of fine movements. With the aid of her specially formulated magic and her magic rods, her odds further sky-rocketed.

Ange’s bravery had been rewarded, she believed. By engaging in this dance with death, she had landed significant bows!

And she wasn’t going to stop.

Ange once again blasted herself away, shooting fireballs at the mass as she moved, but before she landed on the Blood Claw’s left-

“AWOOOOGH!” a painfully loud howl shook the room; a howl enhanced by magic. A magic burst designed to shake the senses.

The Blood Claw had grown tired. Ange was dazed. In one quick motion the Blood Claw grabbed Ange by the neck and head, hoisting her up far above the ground, the sudden absurd grip jolting her back into her senses.

“N-No…” she strained to say, looking down at the Blood Claw’s helm.

“I respect that,” the Blood Claw began. “I didn’t think someone so small would be so reckless, and then turn out to actually be capable enough to keep it up for longer than the quarter of a second.” The Blood Claw’s praise came out gently and distorted, not that it helped Ange’s nerves- she tightened the grip on her rods. “I did not know, bone magic could be so flexible. But those kinds of moves? The precision required; one momentary disruption an-”

Boom-crackle!

Ange fired fireballs from her rods, launching as many as she could at the helm.

“One, anyone, just melt his face off!”

The fireballs kept landing until another blood-shaking howl rang out, blowing out the flames as well as it did Ange’s good sense. She struggled to retain her senses, but this mental attack was too much for the skull knight.

“You’ve got versatile tricks,” the Blood Claw stated, speaking as if nothing had happened. “Too bad they’re as insignificant as the bite of a flea.”

With a flick of the wrist, Ange was tossed up into the air and began to come back down.

Crack!

Right when she crossed the space she once occupied when hoisted, a blood covered fist met her abdomen.

She was immediately propelled backward.

BOOM!

“GAH!” Ange groaned, bile escaping her mouth.

The wall she collided against broke under the force that propelled Ange, creating a crater with Ange lodged in the center.

Ange pitifully rose her head, the light in one of her eyes extinguished. She was greeted by darkness. A chill went up her spine as she dared to look up.

Above her, the silhouette of the Blood Claw’s non-descript helm with the yellow gleams behind the eye socket’s darkness ruled her vision.

“Blocked that with some bone, huh? Impressive,” the Blood Claw praised. It was not an incorrect observation; Ange had created a shield just in the nick of time, though it was now destroyed. “I wonder if it would hold up in real life.”

The Blood Claw grabbed hold of Ange’s helm and pressed it against the crater’s surface. Ange couldn’t escape, not that she had the strength to. The Blood Claw’s right arm swung out, and then back in.

“Bwuah!” all the air left Ange’s body as the fist collided with her stomach. Tears rolled out of her eyes.

The Blood Claw’s fist swung back out-

Fin…

-And came crashing in again.

I’m sorry. How unlucky...

And again.

Don’t come.

And again.

He’s worse than a nightmare.

Until Ange no longer made a sound other than the sound of her flesh compressing against itself.

“Too bad,” the Blood Claw lamented. Ange’s skull was gripped, and she was hoisted out of the crumbling crater. Her body was limp, her ribs and torso disfigured, and her mouth and chest covered in a mixture of blood and vomit.

Off to the corner, the little guide stood, her lips quivering as she watched the Blood Claw place the blood covered claws’ tips on Ange’s deformed abdomen. She had watched the entirety of the battle, from start to end, and now, she found her feet inexplicably moving towards the Blood Claw.

Meanwhile, the Blood Claw’s blood covered right hand gleamed; all tips of the claws on that hand were pressed against Ange’s flesh. A flash later, the blood slipped along his fingers-

Slish.

Five thin blades tore out of Ange’s back; her body showed no sign of response.

“That should do it.” The Blood Claw’s series of inexplicable actions had come to and, the blades had been retracted and blood once again dressed claws and palm. “Hmm… actually,” the figure stated, focusing back on the limp skull knight. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen under one of your skulls.”

The skull knight, spurred on by curiosity, adjusted the grip on Ange. The Blood Claw caressed Ange’s face, like a lover would caress a cheek with a palm, and kept her still in the air, fingers wrapping around her head. The clawed thumb pressed against where the skull helm sat, and the Blood Claw began to press upwards.

Scrrch-

Like peeling a surface away from a strong adhesive, Ange’s skin began to tear and the skull began to lift. Blood started to leak from the boundary of skull and flesh, streams running down the Blood Claw’s hand. No signs of stopping were in sight.

“Excuse me,” a tiny voice said from below the Blood Claw’s knees.

The hulking mass looked down, though the helm never gave any indication of such movement. “What is it?” the Blood Claw asked.

“Dear visitor, that is my friend, Ange. Could you please put her down?”

“Oh?” The Blood Claw let some surprise show. That surprise earned Ange’s unconscious body a reprieve. “I’ve never heard of one of you guides having friends.” The Blood Claw squatted down, the black armor creaking as it adopted an unfamiliar posture.

The Blood Claw was face to face with the tiny Hanna, Ange’s face brought down to their level as well, though her body was draped along the floor. Though this was the figure that had destroyed Ange and struck fear into the hearts of common men, Hanna’s expression did not change, she merely looked into where she knew the Blood Claw’s eyes were.

“Tell me, little one. What is this girl to you? Did you not trap her here like you did me?”

“Yes. She’s my friend.” Hanna answered the questions directly, though the Blood Claw spotted there was a wrinkle immediately.

“So you trap your friends?”

“I must protect the temple by inviting people in.”

“Even if that invitation kills them?”

“I must invite visitors in.”

The Blood Claw eyed Hanna further; what would have been an interesting question to hear an answer to, became a reaffirmation of the truth of Hanna’s existence. She was a being created for a purpose. When faced with a dilemma, Hanna defaulted to the commandments she was made to follow.

“Hmm,” the Blood Claw smiled beneath the darkness of the helm.

Though Hanna was supposed to be a simple existence, it had shown a preference; the Blood Claw was tickled.

“Have you not witnessed hundreds- thousands maim each other within your realm?”

“Yes.” Hanna replied.

The Blood Claw was correct to question her; Hanna since times long forgotten had watched as those she invited into her realm descended to madness, that madness sometimes expressing itself in the most violent of ways.

“But this is different?”

“Please don’t hurt my friend anymore.” Hanna’s face had remained still; she had not once wavered or shuddered in her request. The Blood Claw stared her down for a few more moments until eventually.

“Fine.”

A decision was made. A decision in reverence of a tool of war’s choice to favor someone.

With a flick of the wrist, the Blood Claw tossed Ange behind Hanna some eight meters. Her body landed with a thud and a squish, rolling another half meter, her skull helm coming off her scalp in the bloody roll. One of the Hannas, one closer to Ange’s body, the one that had guided her, clumsily ran over to the woman.

The Blood Claw focused back on the Hanna who had still not broken eye contact. “Run along now, someone else is coming are they not? You’ll be in the way when they break through.”

Hanna nodded at the advice, not questioning the audacity of the gesture and ran towards Ange, joining with her duplicate.

The Blood Claw meanwhile stood up and faced a wall; since a few moments ago, a faint rumbling could be felt; someone was coming.

“Wonder who’s knocking…”

The answer was not long nor far.

A boom echoed through the hallway, dust erupted into the scene from the wall that the Blood Claw was facing.

“BLOOD CLAW!”

A monstrous yell, filled with rage and self-loathing drowned out the sound of crumbling structure.

“I’LL KILL YOU, BLOOD CLAW!”

From the dust sprinted out a body larger and even more monstrous than the Blood Claw’s own form. It was in the form of an Ogre larger than Ogres, the Brute Ogre. With dark blue skin, bulging muscles rippling across a body three times the size of a standard human and smoky shadows emanating along with every breath out and out of the palms and arms; Fin, the brute ogre with an affinity for shadow magic had burst onto the scene.

Rabid and frenzied, roaring louder than a gargantuan beast, he rushed straight for the object of his vengeance, arms ready to crush the enemy.

Though Fin roared causing the walls of the temple to tremble, the Blood Claw did not budge nor shudder.