“My mother… She…” Shih’van bites her lip, her fang digging into her skin. “She was killed. A long, long time ago.”

“Did it have something to do with the Horseman?” Ren asks.

Shih’van remains silent for the longest while. Then, she nods. “Yes, it was the Horseman himself who killed her, according to my father. He and their crew had returned from their voyage, unsuccessful in their attempts to slay the Horseman.”

“You mean that it has been attempted before? That someone from this community attempted to remove the oppressive force?” Vane asks.

“Yes,” Shih’van answers. “It was some time after our ancient protector was killed by the Horseman. My parents did not believe that killing the Horseman should only be left up to the prophesised Sun people.”

“But alas, it was not meant to be,” Vane mutters. “What happened to your father, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Well, he died… when he was discovered aboveground,” Shih’van says. “Af’rik found his body outside of the temple.”

“Af’rik?” Ren asks.

At the mention of her friend’s name, Shih’van brightens. “He’s a scout. He likes going up to the surface, even when my grandmother doesn’t approve of it.”

“So, he kind of sneaks out?”

Shih’van nods. “I always tell him to be careful, though. He’s been going up a lot, but he never gets hurt, ever. He’s very cautious.”

Interesting. If things don’t go well with Grandmother tonight, then perhaps they can consider enlisting the help of this Af’rik. He may know where the Horseman’s palace is, and whether there are any safe routes to it.

“I… I must go help with the preparations,” Shih’van says. She waves goodbye to them, before running back down the hill, where all her Batling friends are.

“Well, we’d best be heading back too. See whether Lady Penny has already awoken,” Vane says.

Yeah, and Ren needs some rest before the feast. His social battery can’t last that long, and he’s already feeling the strain. Together, he and Vane trot down the hill, towards the house at its foot.

Ren ducks into the house, to find Penny up and about, helping Gridel package their remaining food stores into empty medicinal herb satchels. She peers up at their arrival, face lighting up.

“Hey, where did you guys go?” Penny asks.

“We went to ask about the whereabouts of the Horseman’s palace,” Vane says, his arms folded across his chest. “Unfortunately, Shih’van is ignorant as to its location.”

“Then I guess we’ll just have to—”

“Okay.” Ren holds up his hands. “So, here’s the thing…”

He explains everything, from when Shih’van introduced them to her Grandmother, to her grandmother’s All-Seeing Eye and her deeming them to be too weak to face the Horseman down, and to Grandmother demanding to see them after the feast.

“And if all else fails, we could ask her friend who frequents the surface,” Ren says. “Af’rik.”

Penny blinks, and Ren can see the cogs turning in her head, as she tries to process the information. “Okay, I’m going to need you to repeat that. Starting from the beginning.”

Ren sighs. “TLDR, we need to talk to Shih’van’s grandmother after the feast to figure out where the Horseman’s palace is.”

A smile spreads across Penny’s face. “See, it wasn’t that hard, was it?”

“It wasn’t difficult to understand, either, if you’d just been listening.”

“Anyway, could you help me tie this?” Penny gestures to the sachet she’s currently busying herself with. The cloth of its mouth flares open, a piece of string curled loosely around it. Ren saunters over and receives the sachet from her. He pulls the ribbons taut, sealing the sachet, and proceeds to tie a knot.

“Thanks.” Penny grins. “Guess you’re not that useless after all.”

“Says the person who’s been sleeping, like, half the day away.”

“Hey, I need all my energy if we’re going to be traversing the desert tomorrow,” Penny says delicately, with a flourish. She then folds her arms, and she leans back against the wall. “Okay, now what’s this about meeting Shih’van’s grandmother, of all people?”

*

The feast is not as grand as what Ren’s seen before, back in the regions of Ilecthia and Frosgott, and in Gravelle. However, it is the liveliest, with dance and singing performances, to accompany the food tour that they are currently partaking in, which Shih’van as their guide.

Ren’s never quite seen these dishes before, most of which seem to take on shapes that does not seem appetising in the slightest. Case in point, the foodstuff which Shih’van is talking about now.

“And this is fried Tsuchigumo leg, eaten only during special occasions, usually owing to how elusive these creatures are,” Shih’van says, gesturing to plate of fried, elongated… legs on sticks, skewered like shish kebabs. If Ren squints, he can still see the hairs sticking out from amongst the fried bits.

“Oh, wow. This actually tastes good.” Penny chomps down on a Tsuchigumo leg, a silvery hair sticking out from between her lips. Ren shoots her a look. First, when the heck did she snag one of those, and second, would it kill her to eat a little less messily?

At her compliment, however, Shih’van’s face lights up. She claps her claws together, and she flashes them a wide grin. “That’s excellent! I will order for Wal’poh to increase the frequency of her hunting trips.”

“Oh, don’t…” Penny pauses, swallowing her food, before continuing. “Don’t make a special effort for us.”

Shih’van bows. “You are too kind, Sun people. However, I insist. As the chief’s daughter, it is my responsibility to ensure that our guests are comfortable to the greatest degree.”

She continues to introduce them to other kinds of food, but to Ren, her words are going in one ear, and coming out through the other. Despite the “festivities” going on, he cannot quite bring himself to enjoy them, his mind firmly on the meeting that he has with Grandmother later.

If his life were a manga, or a video game, she’d probably put them up to some kind of trial. Like, fighting her, or something. She may be a Batling, a grumpy and weak-looking one at that, but if she’s confident enough to do battle with a group that felled three Horsemen, then Ren isn’t going to take her lightly.

“Hey, you good?”

Penny tugs at his arm, and Ren jolts back to the present. She’s reached for another fried Tsuchigumo leg skewer, munching on it with more vigour than Ren would expect out of someone eating bugs. Vane and Gridel themselves have gone with more tame options, like boiled peaches, or sugared apples.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Ren says, glancing around. Shih’van has left them alone, having perhaps rushed off to tend to something else. With how impromptu this celebration is, Ren shouldn’t be surprised. “Just thinking of… you know, later.”

Penny stuffs the last leg into her mouth, crunching on it heartily. “Yeah, I thought so. Look, I don’t think she’s going to do anything too over the top. She’s probably a nice lady.”

“Oh, you haven’t seen what I’ve seen.” Ren sighs. “You know, it’s always the old ones you have to watch out for in anime.”

“Well, they said seeing is believing, right? I’m glad I don’t watch anime, then.”

“You literally read My Hero Academia.”

Penny pouts. “It’s just one.”

It’s only when Penny grabs another serving of lava larvae soup that Ren realises just what’s so weird about this whole feast. It’s rare for him to find himself at a loss of what to do during one. There are usually people coming up to him to have a nice little chat, or to thank him for saving the world, or even for just a tiny handshake.

But this time, the bat people are keeping to themselves. Preferring to talk amongst themselves, to chat and eat together. Every time they even lock gazes, the most Ren gets is a polite smile, before they turn away and continue chatting with their friends. It’s not like they’re not wanted—they don’t give Ren that impression—but it’s more of… fear? Or respect?

The feast lasts longer than Ren expected. By the time the feast tapers off, most of the Batlings have headed home. Some of them stay behind to clear up the empty plates, to disassemble the table, and to clean up the bits of food left behind. And that also means that…

It’s time to meet with Grandmother. Ren wonders whether Shih’van would be home, seeing that she left halfway through the feast.

He tugs Penny over to the base of the hill, of which Shih’van’s house lies at the very top. Vane and Gridel are already waiting for them, leaning by the edge of the cliff.

“That’s fast,” Penny says. “Didn’t you guys eat?”

“We…” Gridel shakes her head. “I must say that fried insects are… an acquired taste.”

Vane nods. “I did eat a couple, but I hadn’t much of an appetite to begin with.”

Must be the bugs, no doubt. What did they expect from a bunch of Batlings anyway? Raw bugs are probably their main diet.

“Right.” Penny looks up at the house where Grandmother resides. “That’s the house, isn’t it? Let’s go.”

The trudge up the hill is quiet, with nary a word spoken between them. When they reach the top, Penny is the one who raps her knuckles on the door. It swings open after a couple of seconds, with Grandmother standing behind it. She peers up at them, head swivelling on her neck as she glances from one person to the other.

“All four of you are here,” she observes. “Good.” She turns her back to them, then hobbles back into her house. “Come on in.”

“Thank you!” Penny steps through the door. Ren exchanges looks of apprehension with both Gridel and Vane, but he follows Penny’s lead, and enters the house. Gridel quickly follows Ren, and Vane shuts the door behind him.

The house is cosy and small. Dark, too. Not that Ren would expect them to need lights, what with them being bats and all; echolocation is probably a big thing here. In the middle of the house is a small stone pedestal of sorts, surrounded by wooden planks. There are no beds, just like their own houses.

Grandmother ambles over to the wall at the far end of the house. No, it’s not just a wall, but a boulder. A door.

Grandmother grabs a hold of the rock, and with a heave, rolls it away from the doorway, revealing what looks to be a tunnel behind it. Without the luminous moss blanketing the walls, providing illumination beyond, Ren would never have been able to see past the entrance.

“Where does this lead?” Penny asks.

“Oh, you will see,” Grandmother says with a chuckle, which doesn’t sound mirthful at all. She hobbles down the tunnel, her wings bent at awkward angles as she puts her hands behind her back. Ren reaches for Ifrit strapped on his back, the pools of darkness where the light doesn’t reach keeping him on edge.

Lava bugs skitter along the sides of the walls, and green beetles scuttle on by their feet. Even in a region plagued by famine, insects have found a way to survive, and so have humans. Or, rather, Batlings. Surviving, no matter what it took.

It does not take long to traverse the tunnel. They eventually come to a giant chamber, its ceiling covered in stalactites and soda straws. Water trickles from the dripstone, plopping to the ground in varied rhythms. The arena is devoid of anything, save for an altar in the far end, with next to nothing on it.

“This is where we prayed to Helios, a guardsman who used to serve Ignis, back when Heliola was afloat. He was one of the best at hand-to-hand combat, as well as the hidden technique of shadow manipulation.”

“Shadow manipulation?” Penny asks, tilting her head.

“Indeed,” Grandmother says. “He was able to move shadows with his mere hands. Clearly, it was useful in battle if you needed to not be seen.”

Grandmother strides into the middle of the arena. “In any case, it is time for you to show me your strength. If you cannot defeat even me, then you don’t have what it takes to defeat the Horseman.”

That’s a line straight out of an anime right there. But this elderly grandmother? What can she even do—

Ifrit trembles in Ren’s hands, its ruby core shining, then diminishing in glow, then shining again.

“It appears that a spirit of one of Ignis’ loyal followers is here as well,” Grandmother says, gaze darting to Ren’s staff. “Being in this cavern alone must have made them agitated.”

Ren doesn’t remember Ifrit ever getting this hot, burning the thin skin of his palms as he holds it.

“Now,” Grandmother says, assuming a battle stance, with her knees bent and her fists held out in front of her, reminiscent of a martial artist. “Unsheathe your weapons.”

“You’re joking, right?” Penny cries. “There’s no way that we can—”

A small smirk tugs on the corners of Grandmother’s lips. “Do not be afraid of cutting me down. It’s not as easy as you think it is, even with the four of you at once.”

Watch out for the elderly, as anime has taught him. Ren is inclined to believe her. He holds Ifrit out, sparks and embers already dancing around the ruby. Vane holds Claymore out as well, and Gridel pulls Aerius from its strap on her back.

Penny reluctantly unsheathes Mira.

“Come at me when you are ready,” Grandmother says.

This is not going to be an easy fight, Ren thinks. After having faced down so many foes, he can already get a good grasp of their strength relative to his own from just a single glance. And Grandmother? She’s not just confident, but she’s primed to attack.

None of his team members are willing to make the first move, which makes sense. They’d be attacking a “defenceless” old lady, after all; practically a cardinal sin. By now, Ifrit is quaking, the fires growing more intense. Ifrit, too, can discern her power, and for him to shake like that…

Ren waves his staff, and an orange-red circle glows beneath Grandmother’s feet. He draws Ifrit up towards the ceiling, and from the circle, a column of fire sprouts.

Penny throws a glance back at him. “Ren!”

Ren doesn’t answer, because he’s staring straight at the spot where Grandmother stood. She’s gone, leaving nothing in her wake, not even a tuft of hair. Where did she go—?

“Up here, sweetie,” Grandmother singsongs.

Penny lifts her head, just in time to be tackled by Grandmother, the woman kicking her to the ground. She gasps, the breath knocked from her lungs, Mira falling from her grasp.

Grandmother leaps off her and spins on her heels, wings spread, at such a high speed that Gridel’s bolts are slammed away and into the ground. Vane rushes her with his sword raised, but Grandmother merely twists out of the way, spinning on her heels and prancing off Penny.

Vane’s sword smashes into the ground, and jagged stalagmites shoot from the point of contact. Grandmother flaps her wings, taking to the skies. Ren conjures a wreath of flames, hurling it in her direction.

Grandmother merely scoffs, darting away from the tornado of fire, the fiery spiral crashing into the ceiling. She taps lightly against the wall, more of Gridel’s bolts stabbing into the rock by her feet. Grandmother launches herself towards Ren, claws outstretched.

Penny steps between them, having recovered from the assault. Grandmother’s claws meet Mira’s blade, the sing of claw against metal piercing in Ren’s ears. She dives away and to the ground, skittering across the ground like a spider.

Vane plunges his blade into the earth, dredging up hands made of earth that grab at her. Grandmother dodges the snaking hands, taking to the air and soaring out of reach. She leaps towards him from behind, latching onto his armour and wrenching his arm.

Vane yelps, dropping Claymore, and Grandmother throws him to the ground. He crashes into the rock, hitting the floor with such impact that he cracks the earth below him. Bolts soar through the air, slamming into Grandmother’s wings, piercing holes in her skin.

Grandmother stumbles back, red spilling forth from the puncture wounds. Penny rushes her, stabbing her dirk into the rock by Grandmother’s head, and the tension dissipates from the room.

“That was… more of a workout than I expected,” Grandmother mutters. The corners of her lips crinkle into a smile.

“Yeah,” Penny breathes. “Even with four people—”

“Don’t you think you’re letting your guard down, lass?”

With one sweep of her leg, she sends Penny toppling. She squeaks, landing hard on her bum, and Grandmother pulls the dirk from the wall. Ren raises Ifrit, prepared to launch a fireball. However, Grandmother must have seen the sparks, because she spins on her heels and hurls the dirk at him.

Ren squeezes his eyes shut and screams, holding Ifrit out at just the right angle to deflect the blade. Mira clatters to the ground. Grandmother lunges at him, her foot digging into his stomach and punching the air out of him. Ren gasps, dropping to the floor like a stone.

Grandmother turns back just in time to meet Gridel’s remaining bolts head on, catching the arrows between her deft fingers. With a flick of her wrist, she sends the arrows flying back at her. Gridel cries out, lifting her arms in an attempt to block the attack, but it’s futile. The arrows slash her skin, drawing blood. She trips over Vane’s unconscious form, and falls, Aerius slipping from her hands.

And, just like that, the battle’s over. Grandmother stands in the centre of the room, with Ren and the others collapsed around her. It’s not so much her raw strength that completely overwhelmed them, but rather, her quick reflexes, and speed in general. Sometimes, she moved so fast that Ren couldn’t even see what she was doing—she was merely a blur of black and beige.

“If you can’t bring down an elderly woman like myself, how do you expect to defeat the Horseman?”

“But the Horseman… isn’t that fast now, is he?” Ren asks, still struggling for air, recoiling from the blow to his stomach. “I don’t think—”

“This Horseman is not like any other. This one is able to revive the dead in ways that you cannot imagine,” Grandmother says. She taps her claw against her chin. “But perhaps… yes, you might have met some of his minions during your travels through Ruk’vahn?”

“Minions?” Gridel asks, whilst attempting to wake Vane up.

“Yes. Skeletal monstrosities that roam the lands,” Grandmother says. “They wake up at the Horseman’s call, and then they attack any living creature they see.”

“And what does this have to do with, uh…” Ren gestures at the space between them.

Grandmother takes a deep breath, holding her hands behind her back. “You see, whilst he commands them, it is really the monsters’ souls that reanimate their bodies and do his bidding. That also means that they retain whatever combat skills they had in life. And two of those creatures that he controls is… my daughter and son-in-law.”

“You mean… Shih’van’s parents?” Penny asks.

Grandmother nods. “Indeed. They were rather capable warriors, mind you. I personally trained them.” Her voice overflows with pride and melancholy. “And if they are able to fight on the Horseman’s behalf, then I doubt that you would win if you cannot beat me.”

“Well, then we just have to beat you, right?” Penny wobbles to her feet, stalking over to Ren and scooping her dirk up.

“Why, of course.” Grandmother turns to her, but she makes no move to shift her stance. “Only then would I tell you the location of the Horseman’s palace.”

“Then will you train us?” Penny asks, sheathing Mira. “To the point that we can defeat you?”

Ren sees the shine in Grandmother’s eyes. “I am willing to teach if you’re willing to learn. You lot have the potential to get stronger. And I’m not just talking about your magic or how you use your weapons. I mean your body.”

Ren frowns. “Our bodies?”

“I’m going to train you to think faster, to act faster, to train up your muscles for the battle ahead.” Grandmother smiles. “So, don’t you go dying on me now.”