Chapter 25
The shattered alley reeked of smoke and burnt shadow. Enix and Azre leaned against the broken stone walls, too exhausted to rise. Every breath scraped like sandpaper across their lungs. Azre coughed, the metallic tang of blood filling her mouth.
"Azre! Enix!"
Rowan's stern eyes widened as he dropped to his knees beside Enix. He uncorked a vial of shimmering medicine, lifting Enix's head gently. "Drink. Slowly," he instructed, tilting the liquid to his lips. His hands trembled slightly, a testament to his own exhaustion.
Enix coughed, tasting copper and ash, but forced it down. He winced, the medicine burning its way down his throat, but a flicker of color returned to his cheeks.
Thalia knelt beside Azre, pressing a potion into her trembling hands. "I… I couldn't cast a single healing prayer. What kind of holy knight am I if I can't even ease your pain?" Her voice was filled with self-reproach, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.
Azre's pale fingers brushed against hers. "Don't be so hard on yourself. We fill each other's gaps… accept what's missing. That is strength, too." She managed a weak smile, her eyes filled with gratitude.
Rowan's eyes swept toward the horizon. "That battle…" His voice trailed off, his expression grim. The city was still under siege, the fighting far from over.
A thunderous boom shattered the air, shaking the rubble beneath them. From the ground where Dieval had fallen, black ichor oozed upward, writhing and thickening into grotesque phantoms. They towered far larger than before, faceless horrors with jagged edges of shadow, shrieking with the sound of shattered lives. The air crackled with dark energy, a palpable sense of malice.
Rowan cursed under his breath. "One leader of the Trinity falls… and its curse is not purged. It is unleashed!" He gripped his sword, his knuckles white.
Azre's staff rose instinctively, the light along its tip flickering. "No… we cannot let them reach the city!" She struggled to her feet, her eyes blazing with determination.
Thalia clenched her teeth, fists gripping the potion tightly. "Then we hold the line for the people." She stood beside Azre, her rapier drawn, her face set with resolve.
Rowan nodded sharply. "Azre, conserve your mana. Enix, stay back. We do this together." He took a step forward, his sword raised, ready to face the phantoms.
The Purge Knights braced themselves. Shadows surged like a living tide, crawling toward the streets with murderous intent. The battle was far from over.
Across the city, chaos erupted like a storm. Brooke, Bruce, and Bob faced Gigaleon, the Soul Thread Psycho. Crimson threads coiled around him, glowing like veins of fire. Each movement of his fingers sent the threads slashing through the air, deadly as blades. The air hummed with energy, a dangerous dance of life and death.
"You've got guts showing up alone," Brooke taunted, revolvers spinning in her hands. "But guts are messy on cobblestones. Want to test that theory?" She grinned, her eyes glinting with defiance.
Gigaleon's grin widened, dangerous and unnerving. "I like you already. Let's see if your wit survives when your heartstrings are mine to pluck." His voice was a silken whisper, a promise of pain and suffering.
Threads whipped outward like living steel. Brooke twisted and rolled, bullets ricocheting harmlessly as threads sliced the air with a hiss. Bruce and Bob stumbled back, eyes wide with tension, waiting for the right opening. They knew they were outmatched, but they refused to back down.
Bob, muscles tense, leapt forward with his axe in a wide arc, drawing attention. "Now, Brooke!" he shouted. His voice was a roar, a challenge to the Psycho.
Brooke's bullets tore through the shadows, each one shattering crimson threads that tried to block them. Bruce tipped a massive barrel over Gigaleon's position, spilling alcohol that coated the Psycho's form. Threads flailed wildly, sparks igniting flames across the sticky surface. Smoke filled their lungs, stinging eyes and throat, but the fire forced Gigaleon onto the defensive. The flames danced around him, illuminating his twisted features.
"Let's see how you dance in this, bastard!" Brooke shouted, firing round after round. Flames and sparks erupted, illuminating the twisted contours of Gigaleon's ever shifting form. For a brief moment, it seemed they had the upper hand. They exchanged a brief glance, a flicker of hope in their eyes.
Gigaleon's shape twisted violently, collapsing in what looked like a massive boom. Bruce cheered; Bob laughed weakly. But then a voice slithered from the shadows, low and mocking: The laughter died in their throats.
"Did you really think… that was me?"
From the smoke, the real Gigaleon emerged, untouched. Crimson threads lashed forward like whips. Bob threw himself between the attacks, taking a brutal hit that sent him sprawling. Blood pooled at his side, yet his eyes burned with stubborn defiance. He coughed, the taste of blood filling his mouth.
"Oi… pirates stick together… 'til the end," he grinned weakly, wiping blood from his mouth. His voice was a rasp, but his spirit remained unbroken.
Brooke's smirk cracked, and her revolvers glowed, pulsing with mana infused light. She fired essence bullets faster than the eye could track. Threads shattered into sparks, shadows evaporated like mist. Gigaleon staggered, a faltering expression breaking his usual grin. He stumbled back, his eyes wide with disbelief.
"Impossible…" he hissed. His voice was laced with frustration and anger.
With a snap of his fingers, shadows peeled from him, forming ten grotesque clones, each dripping with raw soul energy. Four surged toward Bruce and Bob, five charged Brooke, and one lingered to mock her. The shadows were grotesque parodies of human form, their eyes burning with malevolent intent.
"Which will it be, huntress? Save yourself… or save them?" His voice was a silken whisper, a cruel choice.
Brooke didn't hesitate. Mana bullets streaked through the air, obliterating five of the charging clones before they reached her. Only the four attacking the pirates and the taunting clone remained. She knew what she had to do.
The four shadows hit with a roar, exploding with destructive force but CLANG! A massive black shield slammed into the ground, absorbing the blasts. Behind it, a towering knight in dusk black armor stepped forward, hand firm on the shield. The shield was emblazoned with a sigil of a silent sentinel.
"Pathetic tricks. You'll need more than shadows to break through me first," he said calmly. His voice was deep and resonant, filled with quiet confidence.
Gigaleon froze. Recognition struck him. "You!" His eyes narrowed, his expression a mixture of surprise and anger.
The knight tilted his helm. "It's been a while since I had to block something so… noisy." He surveyed the scene, his gaze assessing the situation.
Brooke's eyes widened. Zeer. The aloof adventurer from the tavern the one who had warned her stood there, a silent sentinel amid the chaos. She felt a surge of relief and gratitude.
He planted the shield firmly. "Rest easy, pirates. From here… they'll have to get through me first." He stood unmoving, a bulwark against the darkness.
The tide of battle shifted. Brooke, Bruce, and Bob, battered and bloodied, had a lifeline. A mysterious ally, silent but immovable, now held the path against the Psycho's attacks. The pirates exchanged a glance, a flicker of hope returning to their eyes.
Gigaleon snarled, crimson threads lashing like vipers. Sparks flew as Brooke's bullets shattered more clones, flames dancing over the wet cobblestones. Smoke twisted into ghostly shapes, shadows curling like smoke serpents. Every strike, every dodge felt like a high stakes game of death. The air was thick with the smell of smoke and blood.
Azre and Thalia held the line elsewhere, fighting Dieval's lingering phantoms. Azre's staff flared, sweeping shadows back, while Thalia's potions and chants supported the fragile barrier around the city streets. The air vibrated with tension, magic and fire mixing with the copper scent of blood. The city was a battlefield, every street a potential grave.
Even in exhaustion, every Purge Knight, every pirate, every soldier knew the stakes: one slip, one misfire, and Serian would burn under shadow's rule. They fought with a ferocity born of desperation.
Above them, the city groaned. Lanterns shattered in the chaos, smoke trailing across the rooftops. Shadows writhed in the streets, but the combined resistance of Brooke, the Purge Knights, and Zeer began to push the tide back. The people of Serian fought back, their spirit unbroken.
And still, Gigaleon's grin remained, though fraying. The Soul Thread Psycho, for all his cunning, knew that tonight, the city's defenders were no ordinary prey. He could feel the tide turning, the momentum shifting.
Every step Brooke took, every shot she fired, carved a path through his chaos. Every shield Zeer raised blocked the impossible. And as the smoke parted, the two fronts the alley of phantoms and the streets of Serian glimmered with hope. But they knew the battle was far from over.
But the shadows never truly died. They lurked, waiting, whispering, plotting. The darkness was patient, its plans unfolding slowly.
Even as the fighters caught their breath, the city seemed to pulse around them. Every heartbeat, every flicker of flame or shadow, hinted that the night was far from over. The air was thick with anticipation, a sense of impending doom.
Somewhere in the darkness, Gigaleon whispered, just low enough that no one could hear, "Soon… everything dances… and none will leave unbroken." His voice was a chilling promise, a harbinger of devastation.