Kaela hit the shallow, freezing water of the sewer tunnel with a jarring splash, the stench of waste and stagnant iron overwhelming her. Lyra, the scavenger girl, landed beside her, whimpering. Kaela ignored the pain blooming in her ribs where the Shadow Hand's colorless Aura had slammed her into the wall. She focused only on the crushing reality: the man had Rust-Eater.
"Run," Kaela hissed, shoving Lyra toward the deeper, darker recesses of the tunnel.
"My leg—" Lyra cried, clutching her thigh.
"It's scraped, not broken. Run!" Kaela scrambled back, turning her Ember Aura inward to numb the sharp edges of her fear.
Above them, the air was suddenly colder. A low, grinding sound—the movement of heavy stone—announced the Shadow Hand was using his power to rip open the sewer grate. The icy Aura flowed into the tunnel like a liquid chill, immediately dropping the temperature and frosting the damp brick.
Kaela knew the mathematics of the fight: Inferno (or higher) vs. Ember meant guaranteed death. Her only advantage was the winding, uneven geometry of the slums and her Formless Footwork, which was designed to thrive in chaos. She sprinted toward the light where the tunnel opened near the main river, moving in Hagar's favored jerky, unpredictable zigzags, using the walls as pivots.
A massive spike of colorless ice erupted from the water behind her, shattering the brick where she'd just stood. The blast of cold air hit her back like a physical blow. The Shadow Hand wasn't chasing her; he was hunting, using his Aura to predict her path and cut her off.
She burst out of the tunnel and onto the slippery, muddy riverbank. The Shadow Hand stood silhouetted against the weak moon, easily covering the distance she had just run in a few fluid strides. He held Rust-Eater casually in one hand, the rusted blade looking utterly powerless in his grip.
"Your little toy is nothing," he droned, his voice devoid of emotion. "It resists the cold, but its core is weak. Surrender, and your death will be swift."
He raised her sword, ready to deliver a killing strike, not with its edge, but with the crushing force of his Aura.
Just as the colorless energy began to crystallize around the hilt, a projectile slammed into the mercenary's head with a sickening THWACK.
It was the heavy, water-logged driftwood staff Hagar had used in training.
The Shadow Hand stumbled, momentarily stunned, the ice crystallization around Rust-Eater dissipating.
"What in the hell are you doing, you miserable wretch?!"
Master Hagar emerged from the shadow of a pile of old fishing nets. He looked worse than usual—muddy, drunk, and weaving—but his eyes, despite the liquor haze, were blazing with a cold, terrifying fury Kaela had seen only once before.
"That girl is useless," Hagar slurred, spitting a mouthful of cheap wine onto the ground. "But that piece of iron she carries… it's stubborn. And I hate stubborn things. You break it, you pay me for the inconvenience."
The mercenary sneered. "A broken Grandmaster? Trying to protect a rat?"
"I don't protect," Hagar corrected, a grim look hardening his face. He reached into his coat and produced a dull, straight piece of iron rod, no longer than his forearm. It wasn't a sword, but the way he held it, the iron rod looked heavier than any greatsword. "I collect debts. And you just incurred a massive one."
The Shadow Hand laughed, a dry, rattling sound. "You have severed veins, old man. You have no Aura. You are less than dust." He focused his full attention on Hagar, summoning a towering shield of crystalline ice. "Watch how Inferno crushes a former Grandmaster."
Hagar did not meet the blast. He moved with the sudden, impossible speed Kaela had learned to recognize—not the speed of youth, but the speed of perfect efficiency. He used his Ember Aura, the pitiful remnant he possessed, not for offense, but for total stillness. He became a vacuum in the midst of the Shadow Hand's explosion.
As the ice shield formed, Hagar blurred into motion, not attacking the shield, but the ground. He didn't use the iron rod to cut; he used it to pivot. He drove the rod into the muddy bank and used it as leverage, launching himself around the ice shield's perimeter in an impossible arc.
He was behind the Shadow Hand before the mercenary's Inferno blast had fully coalesced.
Hagar didn't have the power to pierce the man's armor, but the Formless Style was never about power. The Shadow Hand's massive Aura projection had left one crucial spot exposed, just as Hagar had taught Kaela: the point of commitment.
Hagar slammed the iron rod not into the man, but into the mud directly under the mercenary's heel.
The simple strike was perfectly executed, shattering the ground beneath the mercenary's foot and instantly breaking his stance. The Shadow Hand, committed to his explosive forward power, suddenly had no foundation. His massive Aura technique sputtered and died as his body wobbled.
"Your calculus is flawed," Hagar whispered, his breath steady despite the effort. "Your power is too big for your foundation."
He kicked the back of the Shadow Hand's knee—another dirty, low-Aura trick—sending the mercenary pitching forward onto the mud. Rust-Eater, which the mercenary was still gripping, clattered away onto the ground, sliding right to Kaela's outstretched hand.
Kaela didn't hesitate. Her ribs screamed, but the moment her hand closed around the familiar rusted hilt, the Formless training took over. She felt the hollow weightlessness return. She was breathing the same rhythmic pattern Hagar had drilled into her.
The Shadow Hand recovered instantly, roaring in cold fury. He turned, his body radiating a terrifying, crushing Radiance-level Aura. He wasn't going to play tricks anymore. He was going to annihilate them both.
"Kill him, rat!" Hagar yelled, still winded from his own explosive effort. "Kill him with the flaw! The opening is his rage!"
Kaela didn't have the strength or the Aura to kill him. But she had the precision. She darted forward, her feet a blur of pivots and cuts, not aiming for his heart or his throat, but for the exposed, furious forehead of his helmet, where the slightest vibration could shatter his concentration.
She unleashed the Ember Aura she had conserved all night, pouring it all into one final, razor-thin edge on Rust-Eater. It wasn't a cut of power, but a cut of focus.
The Shadow Hand swiped his arm wide, a chilling counter-attack of raw cold force.
Kaela ducked low, her blade finding its mark. It struck the center of the helmet's brow with a sharp Ting!—the sound of steel meeting steel, not skin.
But the Ember Aura, perfectly aligned, bypassed the metal's physical defense and struck the focal point of the man's spiritual resonance. The Shadow Hand stumbled back, clutching his head. His magnificent, crushing Aura field collapsed into a painful, dizzying void.
Hagar grabbed Kaela by the collar, dragging her back. "That's enough! Retreat is victory!"
They didn't look back. They ran into the dark maze of the slums, leaving the Shadow Hand staggering, his crushing power momentarily defeated by one low kick and a perfectly placed tap from a girl with a rusted sword and an unbreakable will.