Rane stood amidst the settling brick dust, as if the very air around him was still vibrating from the released energy. He slowly lowered his palm, shaking the invisible tension from his fingers, and shifted a calm, caring gaze to the girl sitting on the cobblestones.
"Are you hurt?" his voice sounded even and polite, without the slightest hint of the adrenaline intoxication that usually washed over adventurers after a successful strike.
Alice blinked rapidly, trying to grasp the reality of what was happening. The menacing death that had loomed over her a second ago had vanished, replaced by the tall figure of this strange, imperturbable guy. She timidly placed her scratched palm into his hand. The youth's grip proved to be firm and surprisingly gentle.
Rane pulled her to her feet effortlessly.
"I... Y-yes, I'm in one piece. Thank you so much..." Alice babbled. Her cheeks flushed betrayingly. Next to this person, she suddenly felt not like an experienced explorer, but a timid girl who had just been saved by a true knight from a fairy tale. Her brown eyes involuntarily lingered on his profile a little longer than appropriate.
At that moment, a breathless Leo flew up to them.
"In the name of all the gods! That was... that was simply inconceivable!" the spearman blurted out, looking at Rane with reverent, genuine awe. All his former boastfulness had evaporated. He looked at his savior the way a novice looks at a high priest. "How did you do that?! Without a weapon! With one strike!"
Rane merely gave a condescending smile, having no intention of delving into a lecture on magic.
"Luck and the right timing," he replied briefly. "It's best if you both leave this place immediately. The streets aren't particularly safe right now."
He was just about to turn around and head back to the square when a guttural, gurgling roar echoed from the breach in the wall behind them.
Stone rubble cascaded down with a rustle. The Silverback, staggering, climbed out of the ruins. The metal plate on its chest had caved inward, forming a horrific dent, and thick drops of dark blood dripped from beneath its fanged mask, drenching its chin and neck. The monster was heavily wounded, but this damage only sent it into an uncontrollable berserk state.
"Run. Now," Rane's voice lost all its warmth, turning into a steely command.
Leo and Alice, not daring to argue with this aura, bolted from their spot, disappearing into the labyrinth of alleys.
Left alone, the old master took a fighting stance. He had no weapon. He would have to rely on maneuverability and strike at vulnerable joints. He took a deep breath, focusing the remnants of his mental energy.
But the fight never happened.
Suddenly, the cobblestones between Rane and the primate bulged. Smashing through the stones, a giant, thick stalk erupted from the ground. At its end swayed a closed, armored bud covered in tough scales. For a second, the plant stood motionless, and then the bud snapped open with a wet crunch.
It wasn't a flower. It was a monstrous maw.
Instead of petals, there were dense, leathery flaps of flesh. Inside gaped a pitch-black funnel lined with concentric rows of inward-curving needles, and dozens of long, spiked vines lashed out from the base of this nightmare.
The Silverback roared, throwing itself at the new threat, but the plant monster reacted faster. The vines, like living whips, instantly wrapped around the massive ape's body. With a horrific, sickening squelch, the bud lunged forward, swallowing the primate's head and shoulders whole. A short crunch of cervical vertebrae—and the Silverback's lifeless carcass went limp in the plant's vice-like grip.
Rane froze. Cold calculation instantly produced the result: the chances of winning bare-handed against this were zero.
Having decapitated its prey, the carnivorous flower abruptly turned toward the youth. Its blind physiology possessed no eyes, but it pinpointed its target flawlessly. The powerful surge of elemental magic that Rane had used a couple of minutes ago acted as a perfect beacon for the beast.
The plant hissed, exuding an acrid stench of rot, and dozens of vines sliced through the air with a whistle, hurtling toward the human.
Rane dashed to the right, stepping off the line of attack. A spiked tentacle slammed into the exact spot where he had just stood with a crash, tearing out a chunk of the pavement. The youth moved at the very limit of the reflexes granted by his blessing. He slid under the writhing whips, pushed off walls, and changed his trajectory mid-air. No blocking. The slightest touch of those spikes would tear his body to shreds.
The beast pursued him with frantic speed. Its vines intertwined, creating a deadly net. Rane rolled over an abandoned cart, hearing the wood splinter into matchsticks behind his back.
A dead end loomed ahead.
The monster anticipated his movement. Three vines struck simultaneously, cutting off his escape routes. There was no time left to dodge.
Gritting his teeth, Rane crossed his arms over his chest. The remnants of his willpower compressed into a tight spring.
The air in front of him hardened, turning into a multi-layered barrier. The vines crashed into the invisible shield. A deafening crack rang out. The barrier withstood the points, but the kinetic mass of the impact was monstrous. The shield shattered into pieces, and Rane himself was thrown backward like a rag doll.
He rammed back-first through a wide window of the nearest two-story building. The ringing of breaking glass mingled with the crunch of wooden frames. The youth crashed hard onto the floor of the empty house, his back plowing through overturned chairs.
Pain lanced through his spine, but his instincts didn't allow him to stay down. The repulsive, open maw of the plant was already squeezing through the shattered window.
Without wasting a fraction of a second, Rane sprang up, crossed the hall in three massive bounds, pushed off the bar counter with his foot, and flew out the opposite window overlooking the backyard. He deftly caught the edge of a drainpipe, pulled himself up, and vaulted onto the pitched tiled roof.
The beast was right behind him. The tavern's masonry collapsed with a roar, unable to withstand the pressure of the giant stalk forcing its way up. Vines were already reaching for the edge of the roof, smashing the tiles.
Rane retreated along the building's ridge, breathing heavily. His lungs burned, and pain from magical exhaustion throbbed in his temples. The trap was springing shut.
At the exact moment three spiked whips darted toward his legs, a blinding golden flash tore through the night sky.
A silver whirlwind crashed down from above. A figure in light armor landed squarely between Rane and the monster. A sweep of a long blade—and all three attacking vines were cleanly severed at the very base.
The Sword Princess straightened gracefully. An ordinary, mass-produced steel blade gleamed in her hands—evidently a temporary replacement for her main weapon.
The plant hissed furiously, shifting its attention to the new, far more dangerous obstacle.
Aiz Wallenstein didn't utter a word. Her lips merely moved soundlessly.
In that same second, a hurricane roared to life around the girl. Translucent currents of wind enveloped her miniature figure and the blade of her sword in a dense cocoon.
Rane, frozen on the edge of the roof, watched in fascination. This wasn't a one-off burst of energy like he had done. Aiz wore the element like a second skin, like absolute armor and a perfect blade. The currents swirled, accelerating her movements and dampening the inertia of enemy attacks.
The girl dashed forward. Her speed became unreadable. She danced amidst the deadly whips, playfully slicing them to pieces.
Astounding control, Rane noted to himself, eagerly absorbing every nuance of her work with the flow.
However, this triumph did not last long.
The furious concentration of magic around Aiz acted as an alarm signal for the entire vicinity. The cobblestones and neighboring roofs trembled. Erupting from the dark alleys, shattering roof tiles and bricks, three more closed buds burst forth. They instantly opened their maws, surrounding the Sword Princess from all four sides.
The situation became critical. Aiz fought back with terrifying efficiency, but the number of enemies exceeded the permissible limit.
During another wide swing, as she tried to parry a simultaneous strike from five vines, her temporary blade let out a pitiful ring. The cheap steel, unable to withstand the pressure of the wind-clad force and the monsters' durability, shattered into glittering shards.
For a split second, Aiz was left holding only the stump of a hilt, wide open for a cross-attack.
This is bad, flashed through Rane's mind.
Taking advantage of the fact that the beasts had shifted their focus to Aiz, Rane retreated to the edge of the roof, leaning heavily against a chimney. His own reserves were practically empty, but he wasn't used to standing on the sidelines.
"Allow me to make my own contribution," he said hoarsely.
The youth closed his eyes and extended both arms forward. He didn't try to create his own vortex—he didn't have the strength for that. Instead, he reached out to the storm that was already raging around Aiz. He focused his will, trying to feel the rhythm of her element.
As soon as mental contact was established, Rane began to give. He channeled all his remaining spiritual energy, every drop of concentration, into compressing and accelerating her currents.
For Aiz, it felt like a lightning strike.
Her own magic, previously obedient and familiar, suddenly went berserk. The wind around her body became as dense as steel and as sharp as a razor. The foreign will didn't suppress her control; instead, it harmoniously wove into it, multiplying the resonance manifold.
The surprise on the girl's face was replaced by determination. Without wasting a precious moment, she utilized this monstrous storm. Having lost her blade, she turned her own legs into weapons.
Wreathed in a roaring tornado, Aiz pushed off the roof tiles. A series of kicks, inconceivable in their speed and power, augmented by wind blades, tore through the space.
The plant monsters didn't even have time to react. The immensely powerful aerial sickles tearing from her footwear sliced cleanly through their thick stalks and armored maws. A couple of seconds later, only crumbling piles of ash remained on the roof.
The battle was over.
With a groan, Rane slumped against the stone, his back to the wall. The world swam before his eyes. Hot blood began to run in thin streams from his nose, dripping onto his shirt collar. The overload on his nervous system was making itself known with a vicious migraine.
The wind around Aiz died down. She landed softly on the edge of the roof, breathing heavily.
The girl slowly turned and fixed her gaze on the youth sitting below. Not a trace of her usual cold indifference remained. Her golden eyes were wide open, swirling with a storm of emotions: confusion, disbelief, and some kind of desperate, painful hope.
That wind he had poured into her magic... It wasn't foreign. It felt painfully familiar, warm, and enveloping.
Aiz took a hesitant, trembling step toward him. Her lips parted. She wanted to ask a thousand questions, to ask where, how, who he was.
"Aiz-tan!" a hysterical wail from below sliced through the night air.
The moment was irretrievably lost.
Up from the alley, pushing through dust and debris, Tiona vaulted onto the roof, followed heavily by Tione, while down below, Lefiya was already shouting and waving her staff. Loki, using her children's backs as a ladder, clambered onto the tiles and immediately scooped the bewildered swordswoman into a tight hug, patting her down for injuries.
"My girl! Are you hurt?! Did those cursed weeds get you?!" the Goddess of Mischief clucked, completely blocking Aiz's view.
The elf and the Amazons immediately joined the interrogation, creating an impenetrable shield of care and fuss around the Princess.
And on the opposite side of the house, climbing the stairs and getting tangled in the hem of her white dress, another figure had already appeared.
"Rane!" Hestia, covered in soot and dust, rushed over to the seated youth.
She dropped to her knees before him, wiping the blood from his chin with trembling hands. Tears stood in her huge blue eyes.
Aiz, squeezed in the ring of her Familia, desperately tried to peek over Tiona's shoulder to catch the eye of that strange black-haired boy. But they were separated by an insurmountable wall of other people's fuss and concern.