“Hah!”

Ren’s fist thumps against Grandmother’s raised arm. He hisses as his flesh strikes her bony wrist, pain lancing through his limb. He tries a kick next, but Grandmother catches that too. As soon as he’s on one foot, she hits him with a sweeping kick that quite literally knocks him to the floor.

He flinches, curling in on himself as his shin pulses with pain. God, if she kicked just a little harder, she would have broken his bone. Grandmother stands before him, her hands behind her back, her All-Seeing Eye sparkling more than ever. However, unlike the past few days, it doesn’t seem like she’s mocking him this time.

“Well done. I think that’s the most you ever got out of me,” Grandmother says, and it is then that Ren sees a small cut on her cheek. It was from his missed right hook, when he tried to sock her, but his fist glided past and she slammed her elbow into his back.

Behind him, Penny and Shih’van clap. The two of them have gotten pretty close, practically glued at the hip. Usually, they spend time around the Batling village, with Shih’van showing Penny much of their culture. The Batlings began to open up to them—first to Penny, then to Vane and Gridel.

Vane befriended a Batling by the name of Sevvi’nah, who seemed to be interested in whatever mole-wrangling was. And Gridel became friends with another Batling, Gin’sihk who appeared to be into cooking, and apparently smelled the delicious aroma of Gridel’s simmering Duskbell soup from a mile away.

Needless to say, they’re practically integrated in the Batling community. More and more Batlings, young and old, wave to them when they head around town. Af’rik takes Ren out on scouting missions (that’s what Af’rik calls them) in the labyrinth, and even out of the pyramid, between their training sessions.

There has been no change to the outside world at all—not that Ren can tell anyway. There’s no wind, the air is as arid and filled with sand as ever. Tremors occur infrequently, aftershocks from the Earthworms burrowing into the ground. Once or twice, Ren catches sight of the Horseman riding across the red sky, leading his team of diabolical horses.

Af’rik offers a hand to Ren, which the latter takes with gratitude. The Batling pats him on the shoulder, before taking his place in front of Grandmother, whilst Ren joins his companions in leaning against the wall.

Af’rik’s movements are faster, Ren feels. His punches, kicks and slaps are ultimately quicker and more a blur than Ren’s were. He almost catches Grandmother off guard, throwing out a roundhouse kick like how Grandmother did to Ren. But Grandmother merely leaps into the air, aims her feet at his face, and smashes into him.

With a pained oof, Af’rik tumbles to the ground. Ren winces internally. Ooh, that’s got to hurt.

“Not bad. You’re improving,” Grandmother says. “Definitely better than your first day.”

Ren bristles. His improvements in leaps and bounds have got to be some kind of Batling thing. It has to be. Ren refuses to believe that it isn’t.

Grandmother then turns to the other four who have yet to go—yes, Shih’van included. “Now, who’s next?”

The sparring session continues for the next couple of minutes, each of them getting a turn to go against Grandmother. The only one who got even close to inflicting so much as a punch against her is Vane, and Grandmother praises him accordingly. Then again, Vane did spend much of his life practising combat.

Their meal is prepared by the other Batlings, a group of young girls who whipped up a feast of fruit and aphids. Igneous aphids, mind you. Their bodies are as hard as rock, a crunchy snack for those with fangs. The last time Ren bit into one of them, he nearly cracked his teeth, which is bad, because dental care is basically non-existent in this world.

Ren watches with mild amusement as the girls fawn over Vane, handing him plate after plate of food. If Vane noticed their advances, he does nothing. Instead, he focusses on answering their questions (“Where did you come from?” “How did you get so good at fighting?” “What’s the secrets to your muscles?”) to the best of his ability whilst he lays the plates out on the table. Grandmother chases them away as soon as they’re done setting the table, and the girls leave with titters hidden behind their claws.

He figures that that’s not the last they’re seeing of them, though if he were to hazard a guess, they’re probably half as old as Vane is.

It’s after they’ve concluded their meal and washed the cutlery used that Grandmother declares that she has an announcement to make. They gather around the table, eyes full of questions, wondering just what she has to say.

“I’ve watched you all train, and do nothing but, for the past week,” Grandmother says. “Most of you have improved much, and it will certainly aid you in the trials you will have to go through ahead.”

Ren nods. They still have to storm the Horseman’s palace, which is fiercely guarded by the two skeleton warriors. He still remembers the way they fought—with enough speed and agility to match up to Grandmother’s moves. And they, the Sun people, can hardly match up to Grandmother’s.

“Now, I think that you are ready to confront them,” Grandmother says. “My son-in-law, and my daughter, both of whom take up arms outside of the palace of which you seek.”

Ren sucks in a breath. Is it time? Are they finally going to—

“Af’rik had stumbled upon it by accident,” Grandmother says. “Indeed, Heliola castle is where the Horseman made his base. To get there, you would need to find your way around the city. Shih’van and Af’rik can fly over it easily, but you flightless ones would have a tougher time navigating its maze of roads.”

“I can guide them through it,” Af’rik says. “It’s not that hard.”

Grandmother harrumphs. “For you, that is. Don’t think I don’t know how many times you’ve been there, you little scoundrel.”

Af’rik grins a sheepish grin.

“However, it is as Af’rik said,” Grandmother continues. “He will be your guide during your excursion, and he will make sure that you get there without losing your way. As for what comes after that, it’s in your hands.”

So, once they defeat the warriors that were Shih’van’s parents, then they would have to go up against the Horseman. Like, probably immediately. It wouldn’t be as simple an affair as the Horseman of the Plague, since this is an actual, full-fledged Horseman they’re going up against, accompanied by his team of devilish horses.

It’s not going to be an easy fight.

“Tomorrow, it is time to subdue the final Horseman once and for all,” Grandmother says. “Tonight, you shall get a good night’s sleep, and we will rise at dawn.”

*

Needless to say, it was impossible for Ren to sleep. After all, they are finally reaching their journey’s end. After the fourth Horseman awaits only Pandora’s Citadel. Destroying it and returning to their homeland no longer feels like a fleeting, faraway dream.

Penny is the first to awaken the next morning, pumping her fists into the air and stretching. Despite having just suffered a severe gash to her stomach a few days prior, she’s pretty much recovered, bounding around and participating in their training sessions with fervour. Those balms and pastes of Gridel’s are something else altogether.

After a hearty meal of Duskbell sandwiches—the last of their stock—they assemble at Grandmother’s house. Shih’van and Af’rik have changed into more comfortable combat attire—tight-fitting cloths wrapped around their arms and legs, looking more like ninjas than anything. They were offered the same clothes, but they rejected it—they’re more comfortable in their own tunics and trousers, after all.

“Are you coming with us?” Penny asks, turning to Grandmother.

Grandmother scoffs. “Of course, I am. You’re going to need as much firepower as you can get.”

Shih’van casts her a worried gaze. “But—”

“I’m the most suited to deal with their combat style,” Grandmother insists, stabbing a finger in their general direction. “Without me, you’d be skewered in seconds.”

At this point in time, Ren would totally agree with her. After all, she was the one who taught Shih’van’s parents those martial arts techniques. She’d be the most familiar with their fighting style, as she so aptly demonstrated back in Heliola a couple of days back.

They were seen off by the entire village, the rest of the Batlings gathered around the entrance to the caverns. Those that they’ve gotten pretty friendly with, like Sevvi’nah, yell cheers and supportive affirmations. The three teenage Batlings scream Vane’s name. Af’rik waves joyfully, and Shih’van offers them a gentle smile, whilst Grandmother avoids their gazes stoically.

And with that, they leave. Leave for the Horseman’s Palace located in the heart of Heliola, the fallen kingdom.

*

It’s as though the Horseman knew that they were going to lay siege to his palace today. As soon as they emerged from the crypt and left the pyramid, they were ambushed by swooping, skeletal pterodactyls. Grandmother bats one away with a quick kick, and Gridel takes care of the other one with a bolt piercing its skull.

“Come on!” Penny shouts. She takes the lead, rushing ahead towards the giant castle in the distance, towards the crater in the ground. Ren and the others follow without hesitation, diving and rolling on the ground, leaping high into the air, to evade the pterodactyls’ attacks.

Ren whips Ifrit out and slams its glowing jewel hard against the pterodactyl’s head, almost knocking its skull from its spine. The pterodactyl screeches, and it loses its balance, crashing into the ground. Satisfaction surges in Ren’s chest, mixing with the adrenaline in his veins, fuelling his muscles as he runs.

The road to Heliola is familiar, despite the place being a near-featureless desert, with only the pyramid, the volcano, and the city to guide them. It’s as though Ren has taken this route many times before, though he only really walked it thrice. Shih’van and Af’rik soon take to the skies, spreading their wings and flapping them hard.

They outpace the remaining pursuing pterodactyls by a large margin, diving towards the city that’s fast approaching. From their left and right burst Earthworms, the gigantic creatures seemingly under a spell as they act in unison, roars rumbling deep in their throats. Mouths open wide, filled with razor fangs, they lunge at them.

Ren sends a fireball into an Earthworm’s mouth, the jet of fire streaming into its insides and roasting it from its belly. Penny makes a giant slice, loosing a blade of water at its highest pressure. The blade cuts through the Earthworm like a hot knife through butter. Meanwhile, Vane, with a swing of his sword, summons pillars of earth spearing through the Earthworms, green goo bursting from their punctured bodies.

“All’s clear!” Shih’van calls from above. Grandmother races on ahead, her feet tapping lightly on the ground, spraying up sand with each step. Ren and the others quickly follow, with Shih’van and Af’rik taking the route through the sky, over the buildings. Once more, they plunge into the ancient city, determined to get to the bottom of it once and for all.

Af’rik and Shih’van help them navigate through its streets and alleys. With each sharp corner that Ren turns, the castle gets bigger and bigger, till they come to the familiar courtyard, where they fought the two warriors a week before. No doubt they had recovered from that encounter, like they have, and Ren wonders if they’ve gotten stronger since then. His team most certainly have.

Af’rik and Shih’van land beside them, panting hard, their skin shining with sweat, fur clinging to their skin. Standing just before the entrance to Heliola castle are none other than the two warriors they faced before, except one of them sports bones that are more blackened than before.

They stand before the entrance to the palace menacingly, as though daring them to come closer. Ren clutches his staff tight. He’s seen how fast they can move, and how intense the battles can be. He’s still not up to snuff, unlike the rest of his companions. Grandmother steps before them, her tiny form drawing the attention of the towering warriors.

The tension in the air is thick. So thick that Ren can hardly breathe. Neither they nor the warriors move a muscle, and it feels as though a breath in the wrong direction can trigger the outbreak of Armageddon.

But Grandmother merely speaks, her strong voice ringing out through the entirety of the courtyard. It’s so quiet that her words reverberate around them. “Fan’ah, and Vikk’kuh. Put down your weapons.”

Neither of the warriors do as they’re told. Instead, they clutch even tighter to their nunchakus and their chakrams. It was worth a shot, but it’s not like any of them expected the other party to back down so easily.

Grandmother gives a sigh, and then she is gone.

Gone, as in, she’s not physically there.

In the blink of an eye, she’s traversed the distance between them and the skeleton warriors. She’s naught but a blur against the golden dunes of the sand, the dull grey of the still-standing pillars around them. Grandmother aims a kick up at the warrior with the chakram, her foot blocked by the weapon.

All hell breaks loose.

Nunchakus swing Grandmother’s way, but she merely leaps aside, and the nunchakus strike thin air. Penny is the first to dive into battle, making a jab at the nunchaku warrior, her blade catching onto its leg. The most hideous scraping noise screeches in Ren’s ear, just as he looses a fireball towards the chakram warrior.

The chakram warrior throws themselves back, sending their chakrams flying towards Grandmother. The fireball narrowly misses the weapons and crashes into the wall, whipping up a swirling cloud of dust. Grandmother merely leaps into the sky, dodging the chakrams. She spreads her wings, flapping vigorously, whilst Vane comes up from behind and slashes. The force of the swings sends the chakrams back at the warrior, who catch them with ease.

Gridel sends bolts searing with wind towards the nunchaku warrior. The warrior, preoccupied with Penny’s frantic slashes, can’t react in time. The bolts puncture their ribcage, bones cracking under the impact of the stabs. They give a scream of pain as their bones crumbled before their very eyes, and Penny takes that opportunity to drive her blade up into its jaw.

Both she and the skeleton fall back onto the ground, Penny landing on top of them, her weight taking out more of those crushed ribs. She tries to pull her blade out, but with the hardness of bone, and the angle from which she is attempting to pull, it’s not happening.

The skeleton warrior is about to take advantage of that. They raise their nunchakus into the air, chains clinking with each movement. Ren aims Ifrit at the skeleton warrior, and he fires.

The resultant fireball soars through the air, crashing into the skeleton warrior’s head. They shriek, letting out the most piercing noise that threatens to collapse Ren’s eardrums. It’s all he can do not to slam his fingers into his ears. With a splash of water, the blade cutting through the skeleton’s jaw, Penny tugs Mira free, and she falls back onto the ground on her rear.

She scrambles away from the creature, and the skeleton bats frantically at their face, hoping to diffuse the flames. But the fire burns too strongly for it, crackling and dancing as it consumes them, calcium-white by calcium-white. Penny moves in for the kill, raising Mira high and stabbing it into their forehead.

Their skull cracks, and the skeleton gives another roar of pain. With a hard shove, it shoves Penny off of them, and Penny goes flying right into Ren. Both of them tumble to the ground, and Ren winces as his spine strikes the hard, clumped-together sand. He cries out again when Penny’s elbow digs into his side, as she used him as a launching pad to push herself to her feet.

The skeleton has managed to quell the fire, but their skull has gotten even blacker now, flecked with spots of white. Gridel fends them off with her never-ending bolts and arrows, each one spiralling with the green of wind. The skeleton, however, throws them all aside with lightning-quick movements. Metal clangs against steel with each swing of the nunchakus.

But that distraction was enough of an opening for Penny to rush the skeleton, Mira raised and splashes of water at the ready. The skeleton warrior sees her coming, and they drop their stance, drawing the nunchakus back to sock her in the face.

And yet, all that training wasn’t for nothing. Penny forgoes the attack, rolling behind them whilst their nunchakus cut through thin air. She lunges at them from behind, plunging Mira into the crown of their skull. The skeleton roars, and, this time, Penny pulls it out in one swift arc.

The skeleton turns to her, nunchakus raised.

However, Penny’s attack isn’t the last of their onslaught. With the skeleton’s back turned, Ren looses his barrage of fireballs. He conjures them from the ribbons of magic flowing into his arms from Ifrit’s red gem. Spheres of flames spring out continuously from his hands, thrust again and again towards the skeleton.

Ren launches fireballs again and again until he runs out of firepower. He gasps for breath, the energy drained from his system. God, at least he’s not fainting this time—after all this time, he’s finally gotten used to the sapping of strength from his muscles. The toll of using magic has become significantly weaker, devolving into something that he can tolerate.

Or maybe he’s just gotten stronger.

Ren looks over at the other side, where Vane, Grandmother, Shih’van and Af’rik are dealing with the other warrior. Feet and fist meet metal teeth as they clash. Even by themselves, the warrior is putting up much of a fight.

Ren lifts his staff into the air, about to help. But Af’rik sends a foot flying at their skull. It doesn’t disconnect, but the entire skeleton flops to the ground as though it were a rag doll. Vane takes this chance, raises Claymore into the air, and he plunges it down into the skeleton warrior’s skull.

The skull cracks under the force of the stab, before exploding into a million splinters. Like a puppet with its strings cut, the skeleton falls limp to the ground, moving no more.

Just like that, the battle is over. The aftermath of their scuffle is evident in the scratches on the sand, the scorch marks on the stone, and the piles of bones on the ground. With the ability to move even faster, the conflict ended just as quickly.

Shih’van stands in between the two warriors, her shoulders slumped. Grandmother kneels beside the warrior with the chakrams, a solemn expression on her face. Ren doesn’t know what to say. He can only watch on as Grandmother and Shih’van have their final moments—truly final, this time—with the duo they considered their daughter and son-in-law, and their mother and father.

Shih’van is the first to turn away, her back now facing the skeletons. Af’rik strides up to her, placing a hand on her shoulder and asking if she’s fine. Meanwhile, Penny moves to stand beside Ren, watching as Grandmother rises to her feet.

“Come,” Grandmother says. “Let us go now. The Horseman awaits.”

She leads them towards the open doors of the palace. Shih’van and Af’rik follow after her, then Ren, Penny, Vane, and Gridel. Into the palace they go, the resting place of the first and the greatest Emperor of Zenthos.