The slums were thick with the stench of mildew and iron, the air heavy from the weight of the past and the blood yet to be spilled.
Rudra darted up a wooden beam and kicked off the ceiling beam just as Kaya blasted the space below with a gust of air.
He knew that if they contained the battle to that little, burning shack, that he would inevitably lose.
So he moved outside to give himself some space.
Rudra leapt out the crumbling window of his childhood home just as the first blade sang through the air behind him.
It sliced deep into the wall where his head had been half a second ago.
Elena snarled. "Don't let him get outside!"
But Rudra was gone.
Smoke cleared behind him, and only Garrick remained inside, watching it all with narrowed eyes.
"He's separating them," he muttered with narrowed eyes, walking outside to observe more.
Outside, Rudra landed with a skid on the dirt path. The village was silent. Cold. Deserted.
