The night cracked open with the sound of steel.
Zethra barely managed to drag Ezagone behind a collapsed barn wall as a volley of silvered bolts shredded through the air, striking sparks where they hit stone. His chest burned from the weight of his own power trying to break free, wings clawing at the seams of his flesh.
"Lovely," Ezagone wheezed, clutching his side where a shard had grazed him. "I always dreamed of dying behind a cow shed. Glorious end, really."
"Shut up." Zethra's jaw was tight, eyes scanning the shadows. Hunters moved like phantoms—hooded figures wielding weapons etched with faint glyphs. He could feel their weapons burning cold and sharp, like ice piercing bone.
A laugh purred against his ear, a voice only he could hear.
Amethyst.
"This could get very dangerous without your full power, you should unseal your wings."
"Got it," he hissed under his breath.
Ezagone tilted his head, confused."What now? Zeth, don't tell me you're talking to yourself. That's my job."
Zethra ignored him fucused, allowing his Aetherion to flare from embers, his wings unfurled, stretching out with a span that made him seem like the shadow of death
The hunters weren't waiting politely. A figure vaulted the wall, blade glowing with holy glyphs. Zethra's body reacted before thought—his arm swept up, claws erupting from his skin, catching the strike in a shower of sparks. The hunter's eyes widened at the demonic glow flashing across his veins.
"Brother!" Ezagone shouted. "That thing on your arm looks—uh—really cool! Also terrifying! Mostly terrifying!"
The clash sent vibrations down Zethra's bones. He roared, twisting the blade aside, but three more hunters closed in. Their coordination was surgical, practiced—every strike designed to whittle him down, pierce his defenses, drag him into submission.
"Zethra!" Ezagone grabbed a broken plank, charging like an idiot into the fray. He swung wildly, cracking it against a hunter's helm. "Haha! Take that!"
The hunter barely flinched before backhanding him into the mud.
Ezagone groaned. "Worth it…"
Zethra's fury ignited. He caught another blade with his bare hand, blood sizzling as the silver seared his palm. He yanked the hunter forward and slammed his forehead into the man's mask, shattering it.
But the others pressed in. Four against one. The air stank of burning silver. His lungs screamed for release.
"I can't," Zethra growled, "...fight them all"
Amethyst shimmered into being—visible only to him. She stepped out of his shadow, tall, radiant, draped in scarlet silk that clung to every curve. Her dress shimmered like flame and blood, slit high enough to tempt madness, neckline plunging like a sin. Her eyes gleamed violet, lips curved in a wicked smile.
The hunters circled, blades raised, utterly unaware of the deviless who walked among them.
Ezagone blinked at his brother. "Uh… why are you staring at the ground like it owes you money?"
Amethyst bent close to Zethra, her lips brushing his ear.
" Why do you battle so stupidly" she purred. "Men who battle with pure skill only are doomed to lose their heads one day, to survive one must battle with cun and deceit."
Zethra's knees buckled. He blocked another strike, gritting his teeth so hard his jaw ached. "You're not actually helping, you know"
Her laugh was intoxicating.
One hunter lunged for Ezagone—blade flashing down. Zethra roared, wings lashing. Aetherion flooded him in a violent surge, scarlet and black threads wrapping his limbs. He moved faster than thought, intercepting the strike an inch from Ezagone's chest. The blade seared into his own forearm, but he didn't stop.
He drove his claws through the hunter's armor, tearing him down in a storm of sparks.
Ezagone's eyes went wide. "Zeth… you're bleeding everywhere."
Zethra turned, panting, blood dripping down his arm. The other hunters faltered, recognizing the dangerous glow in his veins. His wings strained, shadows stretching across the ground like monstrous talons.
Amethyst twirled around him, her dress flowing like liquid fire. "That's it. Dance with me, Zethra. Wield their shock, show them your true self."
But his body was cracking. If he pushed further, it would shatter.
Another volley of bolts screamed through the night. Zethra spun, shielding Ezagone with his body. Bolts sank into his back, sizzling against flesh and bone. Pain tore a roar from his throat.
Ezagone shouted, voice raw. "Don't you dare die on me, Zeth! I still owe you like… seventeen punches for bossing me around!"
The hunters closed in, certain of their victory.
Zethra staggered, vision blurring. He wanted to collapse. To give in.
Then Ezagone's hand gripped his sleeve. Weak, trembling, but steady. "You're not alone, brother. You hear me? We fight together. Always."
Something in Zethra steadied.
Zethra roared, forcing his Aetherion outward in a burst—a shockwave of raw pressure. The hunters staggered back, unprepared.
That single moment of shock was their undoing.
In the next second, zethra bursted forward with awe inspiring velocity, his fist slammed straight through the chest of a hunter, crushing his heart. At the same time his wings lashed out slamming another hunter into a tree. Taking advantage of their surprise, he grabbed his brother.
"Better run," Zethra barked. The two bolted into the woods, shadows curling behind them like the tails of beasts.
The hunters gave chase, but limped, disoriented. Zethra's body burned like molten iron, every step agony. Amethyst followed, laughing softly, her red dress trailing flames only he could see.
"Well done zethra,you've won"
Zethra didn't answer. He just ran, dragging his brother with him, into the dark unknown.