Tears tracked through the grit on the Wanderer’s cheeks as he felt the heat leave Kuma’s body. He stood slowly, stripping off the stolen Lythran robe and draping it over his friend. One final look at Kuma, lying still among the crushed lavender, the only friend from Draemir resting among the old friends from Lythra.
"I believe I’ve given you enough time for farewells," Rohan’s voice sliced through the grief. "Consider it a courtesy for providing me the excuse I needed to take this temple from Tharos’s cold fingers."
The Wanderer didn't look up immediately. "So Lythra still runs on a ledger?" he asked, his voice soaked in grief. He finally turned, his eyes locking onto Rohan’s. "I think you have a debt to pay."
Rohan reached for his cowl, pulling it back to expose the glowing blue rock of the anti-magic armor beneath. "Make me."
The Wanderer’s mana flared, a lightning aura erupting around him. Two Fang members surged forward, their palms glowing with concentrated Qi. The Wanderer deflected the first strike with a brutal parry, then drove his hand into the second man’s ribs. The bones were dismantled and reassembled into internal spikes. The man’s scream was cut short as the shards pierced his lungs. A follow-up kick sent the dying man crashing back into his comrades.
Rohan watched the body slide into the dirt, his expression bored. "Step back," he commanded. "This one is mine."
The remaining Fang members melted into the shadows of the temple pillars. Rohan beckoned with a gloved hand.
The Wanderer reinforced his muscles with a surge of magic and dashed forward, but as he closed the distance, his momentum suddenly withered. Three meters from Rohan, the mana nullified by the blue armor.
Rohan seized the opening. He moved with predatory speed, landing a blur of heavy punches that rattled the Wanderer’s ribs before finishing with a concentrated Qi blast aimed at his chest.
Mid-flight, the Wanderer’s hand shot out, catching Rohan’s wrist, opening the floodgates of the Spiral. The void within him screamed, greedily devouring the Qi flowing from Rohan’s arm.
Startled, Rohan delivered a sharp kick to the Wanderer’s shin to break the connection and leaped back. He looked down at his hand, his wrist shaking from the sudden drain.
"Two can play this game," the Wanderer said, his voice steadying.
Rohan clenched his fist, forcing the tremors to stop. "So Tharos wasn't bluffing about his little experiment after all." He reached for the hilt at his hip, the ring of steel echoing through the courtyard as he drew his blade. "Steel it is, then."
The Wanderer reached down and gripped the hilt of Kuma’s discarded sword. Then dropped into a low guard, the point of the sword leveled at Rohan’s throat.
The Wanderer lunged, his horizontal slash met by the flat of Rohan’s blade. The clashing steel rang through the courtyard. The Wanderer ground his edge against Rohan’s, forcing the other man's guard down with raw leverage. He twisted his weight, snapping a roundhouse kick into Rohan’s chin, then followed through with the momentum to bring his other heel crashing down against the side of Rohan’s head.
Rohan staggered, his boots scuffing the dirt as he fought to keep his balance. Snarling, he sprinted back into the fray. He dropped low, sliding through the dust for a leg sweep. The Wanderer leapt to clear it, but Rohan was already moving, planting his hands and vaulted his entire body upward, his legs snapping like a spring to catch the Wanderer mid-air.
The Wanderer slammed into the earth, rolling once before springing back to his feet.
They began to circle one another, two predators in a cage of ruins. The Wanderer lunged with a sudden thrust; Rohan pivoted, letting the steel whistle past his ribs. In a blur of motion, Rohan tucked the Wanderer’s sword arm firmly under his own, pinning the weapon. He drove his own blade toward the Wanderer’s side, but the Wanderer mirrored the maneuver, trapping Rohan’s sword arm under his armpit.
Locked together in a grim embrace, the Wanderer slammed his forehead into Rohan’s. The crack of bone on bone echoed. He did it again, and then a third time, until blood masked both their faces and they staggered apart dazed.
Rohan wiped the crimson from his eyes, staring at the blood on his fingers. His expression shifted to shaking fury. He spun with the weight of his rage, delivering a heavy diagonal strike. The Wanderer caught it on his blade, but the sheer force of the impact sent him reeling back.
Rohan followed with another punishing diagonal cut, then launched himself into a double-kick that caught the Wanderer square in the chest.
The Wanderer hit the ground hard, his lungs seizing.
The sudden, sharp whistle of needles cut through the air toward Rohan’s back, but they withered and fell as they entered the armor's nullification field.
Rohan turned, his sword held low. Skida stood at the edge of the courtyard, the rest of the unit fanning out behind her. He stepped away from the fallen Wanderer, resetting his stance for the new threat.
"Magic won't work," the Wanderer rasped, pushing himself up. "The armor..."
Skida’s eyes narrowed as she took in the glowing blue stone. "Damn Valorian," she spat.
Rohan’s bloody lips pulled back into a smirk. "We don't get along particularly well with Valoria," he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But the enemy of my enemy..."
A soldier surged forward, attempting to flank Rohan while he was distracted. Rohan snapped around, and a series of concussive Qi blasts erupted from his palm, hitting the soldier in the chest before the man could react. The soldier was thrown back, hitting the floor dead.
The Wanderer wiped the blood from his eyes with his sleeve, his breathing heavy and ragged. "You can't fight him," he called out, his voice rasping. "Leave him to me."
Skida’s gaze swept over the broken remains of her unit, then shifted to the glowing blue armor. "To the gates!" She commanded the survivors. She spared a final, sharp look at the Wanderer. "Don't stay here for long. Finish it."
She turned and led the remaining unit toward the city's heart, leaving the two men alone in the ruin.
"Big mistake," Rohan said, adjusting his grip on his hilt. "You should have let them stay. At least they could have provided a distraction."
"Kuma’s blood is for me alone to avenge," the Wanderer replied.
He charged. The sound of their swords clashing filled the courtyard. They moved in a lethal dance, a blur of silver and glowing blue. Blade slid against blade with the sound of grinding metal. Rohan lunged, but the Wanderer caught the strike on his crossguard and slammed his shoulder into Rohan’s chest, sending them both crashing into a scorched tree. They traded blows in the tight space,punches to the ribs, elbows to the face. Until the Wanderer managed to hook Rohan’s arm.
With a guttural roar, the Wanderer twisted. There was a pop followed by the snap of bone. Rohan’s arm went limp, his sword clattering onto the grass.
The Wanderer wrapped his Hands around Rohan’s throat, and began to squeeze the life out of him.
But Rohan’s good hand moved like a viper. He reached into a hidden sheath at his lower back and drove a silver dagger to the Wanderer’s side, sliding between his ribs.