The Crowmarket exploded into wildness.
Red face covers shone under the lamp-light as the killers pushed into the market, blades flashing, magic spells flaring. Sellers screamed. A Tidecaller threw a spear of water, only to be cut down by a fire-blackened axe. A Sylthari fell as their plants were burned to ash.
The Crimson Cabal were not here to trade. They were here to make quiet.
Kaelen felt the Book beat at his side. Its pages moved as if tasting the air, each killer a ready gift.
He shadow-jumped as a spear stabbed at him, the Shadow-jump trick pulling him through the dark into another part of the market. Smoke and screams filled his lungs.
The Killer's copy still haunted his muscles. The Soulcut waited, eager.
Kaelen pulled out his blade. "Let's see if I learned anything."
---
The first Cabal killer saw him—a thin shape covered in fire, a Flameborn by the glow in his hot eyes. Lava lines pulsed along his arms as he made a whip of flame.
He snapped it toward Kaelen.
Kaelen's body moved without thinking. He stepped into the shadows, sliding past the whip, then came back behind his enemy. His Soulcut hit came in a black curve, cutting through armor, flesh, and hot blood.
The Flameborn's body fell apart in two burned halves.
The Book snapped a page open:
[Fire Whip] – Can Be Written.
Kaelen's sight swam. The pull of power burned through him. His hand touched the page—
And pain tore through his veins as fire burst in his nerves. The Mind Place opened at the edges of his thoughts, wanting full control.
*Not now*. He forced the Book shut, swallowing sick. Each written skill came with a cost, and the fight ground was no place to pay it.
---
Two more killers closed in—a Voidwalker who blurred and jumped through space, and a covered human with metal claws.
Kaelen ducked into shadow as the Voidwalker appeared behind him, claws tearing air where Kaelen's back had been. The second killer slashed forward, pushing Kaelen toward the edge of the market.
People ran. A Gloomspawn seller screamed as her stand fell over, spilling shining dust into the smoke.
Kaelen turned fast. His blade met the clawed Cabal fighter's hit, sparks flying. With his free hand, Kaelen shadow-jumped through the Gloomspawn's glowing cloud, coming out behind his enemy.
Soulcut sang.
The killer dropped, throat cut open.
But the Voidwalker struck next, jumping in close, knife aimed at Kaelen's heart.
Kaelen's gut feelings screamed. *Too fast—*
The Book shone bright. Kaelen's body moved sideways, shadows pulling him half a breath out of step with the real world. The knife cut through smoke instead of flesh.
Kaelen came back at the Voidwalker's side. Soulcut pushed into his ribs.
The Voidwalker gasped, eyes wide with shock, before turning to dead shadow.
---
The market was nearly empty now, bodies covering the stone floor. Only two Crimson Cabal killers remained. Their leader, dressed in deeper red than the rest, stepped forward.
A rough mark burned across his face cover—a sign Kaelen knew at once.
The Crimson Killer's mark.
Rage roared in Kaelen's veins. His shadows twisted, eager for blood.
The Cabal fighter pulled out twin blades that shone with strange light. "You should have died with your people, little shadow," he hissed. "Instead, you crawl like a rat in markets not your own."
Kaelen held his blade level, the Book beating hot at his side.
"Then you'll find," he said coldly, "this rat bites."
The shadows curled around him like a storm.
And the Crowmarket became a killing ground.