The blade in Kael Arclight's hand was beginning to fail him.
The metal thrummed with heat each time the black fire lashed out, and he knew one more direct hit would snap it clean in half.
But the next impact didn't give him a choice.
A surge of black flame tore across the street and slammed into him with a force that stole the air from his lungs.
The world flashed white.
A violent shock ripped through his entire body and pain followed like a tidal wave. His coat charred in an instant. His skin blistered. For a heartbeat he couldn't breathe, couldn't think, couldn't do anything except feel himself burning alive.
His knees nearly gave out.
Then something impossible happened.
A soft pulse rose from deep within him, warm and quiet, cutting through the agony like a hand on his shoulder.
The black fire peeled away.
Not dispersed, not resisted.
Removed. As if the flames had never been allowed to touch him in the first place.
Kael staggered, eyes wide.
Across from him, the lead Fatui elite froze in disbelief.
"What… what did you do?" the man breathed. "My black flame cannot be neutralized. It is impossible."
Kael didn't answer. His heart was still racing with the aftershocks of pain and the sudden hush that followed, a silence that carried a strange familiarity. A sense of… protection.
Clara.
The realization struck him with clarity.
The command shimmering through his blood was unmistakable.
The same miracle that saved him earlier, the same instinctive barrier.
Clara's Path-derived branch skill — [Family].
A thirty-five percent chance to remove a negative state.
He hadn't expected it to work so literally.
For a moment he wanted to laugh at the sheer absurdity of it. Not now. Not here. But the thought flickered all the same.
If this thing can clear black fire, what happens when a Sovereign-tier strike hits me…?
Even a chance like that was precious.
He exhaled sharply, focus returning.
A one-in-three miracle was still a miracle, not a strategy. He couldn't rely on it twice.
The Fatui were still reeling.
That was his opening.
His stance shifted, the sword tracing a clean arc through the air. Wind gathered around the blade as if pulled by instinct.
He moved.
Kael flickered between shadows, his presence thinning until he slipped past the Fatui's guard like a ghost. The sword lashed out with a cold gleam, sweeping across armor and bone alike.
The first elite collapsed without a scream.
The second barely raised her weapon before Kael struck it aside, the steel ringing as it flew from her grip. His follow-up strike carved through her shoulder and sent her sprawling.
Blood marked the street.
Footsteps staggered.
Their formation fractured into panic.
"You refused our invitation…" one elite gasped, voice trembling.
Kael's gaze was steady.
"You tried to force it on me. This is the price you pay."
His tone was ice.
The remaining pair lunged in desperation, but the fear in their eyes betrayed them. Their attacks were sloppy, shaken, too easily read. Kael evaded the first by a hair, stepped into the second's guard, and dragged his blade across the gap like a painter finishing a stroke.
Both fell.
Only the last one remained.
The one with the Eye of Corruption.
He didn't get a chance to use it again.
One step.
One swing.
One clean impact.
Silence.
Kael lowered his sword, shoulders rising with a slow breath as the tension drained from his muscles.
If not for Clara's [Family], he would have been down already.
He brushed a hand against his ribs where the black fire had struck. The skin was unmarked now, but he could still feel the phantom burn.
A life-saving miracle.
And one he would not take lightly.
On the ground, amid the scattered flames and fading embers, something gleamed.
A crimson device. Jagged. Cold. Wrapped in runic metal.
A Fatui Delusion.
Kael crouched and picked it up, studying the warped lines of its construction. He didn't need it. But in the right moment, or in the right hands… anything could become leverage.
He slipped it into his coat.
A faint ripple lit the air.
The familiar translucent panel unfurled before him.
[System Log: Event Resolution]
The Strider Organization recognizes your potential.
Despite your elimination of their personnel, they appreciate your combat ability and have attempted a recruitment. You rejected them.
Reward issued: Ice Reinforcement Paste.
A strengthening compound mixing Path-derived energy with stabilizing agents. Applied to suitable weaponry, grants significant enhancement.
[System Alert: Escalation]
Your refusal and subsequent elimination of Strider elites have drawn attention. The organization will dispatch higher-ranking units. Other factions may also show interest.
Choose your course:
Option 1: Bow and Apologize
Grovel, plead misunderstanding, bring wine and food. Hope survival follows humiliation.
Reward: Dignity of the Trash Bin. Increases defense by 20 percent in your next battle. It is unclear why a trash bin possesses dignity. It is, however, notably heavy.
Option 2: Stay Home and Wait
Eat, drink, rest. Let them guess. If they find you, let fists decide the future.
Reward: Silver-Scale Gauntlet of the Iron Guard. A relic reinforced by the Path of Preservation, reducing incoming damage by 8 percent.
Option 3: Strike First, Accuse First
Warn the opposing Faction: Earthfire. Claim Striders are imploding from internal conflict. Spread rumors. Become a "victim" in the chaos. Possibly gain unexpected allies.
Reward: Preservation Construction Material. Transforms from fluid to solid on contact with air.
The interface faded like smoke.
Kael exhaled slowly, rubbing the edge of his brow.
"Fantastic. More trouble."
The street was quiet again, but he could feel the storm gathering.
Someone would come.
Several someones, if he wasn't careful.
This wasn't an ending.
Only the beginning.
What mattered now was choosing the direction.
And surviving it.