Cerberus's primal voice thundered through my skull. 'Heads up. They're coming.'
I frowned. The woman had lowered her stick, its tip resting lightly against the ground. The four dulled needles fell limp beside her boots. For half a breath, I almost scoffed.
Then she flicked her wrist.
Six new needles tore free from her belt and shot straight upward, sharp-tipped and gleaming. They climbed so high they caught the late afternoon sun, flaring white. My vision stung as I tracked them.
Too late.
I caught the first needle only because instinct screamed louder than thought. I leaned back hard, spine bending past what should have been possible. The needle missed my forehead by an inch, slicing the air where my face had been.
Momentum carried me into a backflip.
Another needle fell. I flipped again.
Another. Another.
Six needles. Six backflips.
By the sixth, something strange cut through the panic—wonder. I'm doing this. Three days ago, I'd have shattered my neck trying once. Now my body obeyed without hesitation, muscles coiling and releasing like they'd always known how.
Then two fists slammed toward my left.
My tail snapped up on its own, blocking the strike. Pain exploded through me anyway. The impact hurled me several meters across the road. I skidded, boots scraping, and barely managed to plant my feet.
"Thank—" I started.
A crushing pressure surged behind me.
'Run.'
Every instinct screamed it. My tail stabbed into the concrete and flung me sideways just as the sword came down. The blade carved the ground open—not cracked it, cut it—leaving a narrow trench where I'd stood.
My eyes widened. My hood, my armor—it would have saved me from that.
'Focus, you blockhead,' Cerberus snapped.
"Thank you," I muttered anyway.
'Don't thank me. If you die, I go back to sleep. Do you have any idea what eternal darkness feels like?'
"Then let's survive," I said. "Together."
Something inside me answered. My aura flared, heat rolling off my skin. I felt the world sharpened.
Sound stretched first—the scrape of boots, the hiss of needles slicing air, the low drag of the swordsman's blade against concrete as he shifted his stance. My vision followed, colors deepening, edges hardening, every movement outlined with brutal clarity.
'Left,' Cerberus warned.
I twisted just as one of the four-limbed man's fists tore past my shoulder. The displaced air still slammed into me, but I used it, rolling with the force and coming up low. My claws raked across his arm. Flesh parted cleanly.
He roared.
The severed limb hit the ground with a wet thud.
For half a second, hope sparked in my chest.
Then the arm writhed. Bone cracked and reshaped, muscle knitting together in seconds. A new arm burst free, flexing as if testing itself.
"Figures," I muttered.
The woman didn't give me time to process it. Her stick snapped upward, and all six needles obeyed instantly. They curved through the air like living things, splitting into pairs—two high, two low, two straight at my chest.
I lunged forward instead of back.
The needles struck my armored clothing in rapid succession. None pierced through Tristan's gift, but the impacts were brutal—like being punched by hammers. Pain rippled through my ribs, my shoulders, my spine. My breath left me in a sharp gasp, but I stayed upright.
'Armor holds,' Cerberus noted. 'Your body doesn't.'
"I noticed," I growled.
I forced myself closer to the woman. If I could break their rhythm—just once—
The four-limbed man intercepted me, sliding between us with unnatural coordination. Two arms blocked my claws while the other two swung low. I leapt, tail snapping around his neck midair, yanking him off balance. I landed behind him and slashed again, taking another limb.
It grew back even faster this time.
The swordsman moved.
He didn't rush. He stepped in precisely when my footing slipped, blade cutting a clean arc that shaved fur from my chest. I twisted away, heart hammering. The trench his sword carved followed me, relentless.
For a brief stretch, I still held them off—dodging needles by instinct, blocking strikes by feel, forcing the swordsman to hesitate whenever he risked hitting his allies. I even caught one needle barehanded and flung it back. The woman deflected it with a flick of her stick, eyes narrowing.
But my breaths came ragged now.
My muscles screamed. Each jump landed heavier than the last. My tail felt sluggish, my reactions just a hair slower.
The four-limbed man drove a fist into my gut. I doubled over. A needle slammed into my back—again stopped by armor, again rattling my bones. The swordsman's blade hovered inches from my throat before I barely rolled aside.
I pushed myself up, legs shaking.
'Time's running out,' Cerberus said, grim.
"I know," I whispered.
They circled tighter, confidence returning to their movements. Their synchronization was perfect again.
And I realized with a cold knot in my chest that adapting wasn't enough anymore.
I was running out of time.
I forced myself to stop moving.
Every instinct screamed at me to keep dodging, to stay alive through motion—but Cerberus was right, my body can't keep up. I could feel my stamina bleeding out with every leap, every roll, every desperate burst of speed. If I kept dancing around them, I'd collapse before they did.
Stand your ground, I told myself.
The cracked asphalt felt cold under my boots as I planted my feet. My breathing slowed, each inhale deliberate, each exhale measured. Pain throbbed through my ribs, my back, my shoulder—but I boxed it in, shoved it aside.
The woman noticed immediately.
Her lips curved, not into a smile, but something sharper—interest. She raised her stick, wrist rotating with practiced precision. The six needles lifted, humming as they charged, vibrating the air around them.
The needles shot forward.
I waited. Forced myself to wait until the last possible heartbeat.
Then I moved.
My claw slashed down, knocking the first needle off course. My tail snapped sideways, batting the second away. I twisted my torso, deflecting the third with the back of my forearm.
The fourth one clipped me.
It punched into my side, stopped by the armor—but the impact detonated inside me. White-hot pain bloomed, stealing my breath. I growled, teeth bared, but didn't let myself fold.
Endure, Cerberus growled with me.
I twisted through the pain, deflecting the remaining needles, sending them skittering across the ground. My legs trembled, but I stayed standing.
That's when the swordsman moved.
He came in fast, silent, blade already swinging. The sheer weight of his strike was terrifying—no flourish, no wasted motion. The sword screamed through the air, aimed straight for my shoulder.
I raised my arms on instinct—then stopped myself.
Too slow.
Instead, my tail shot out, coiling around his ankles. I twisted hard and yanked.
The swordsman's eyes widened just a fraction as his balance vanished. I heaved, channeling everything I had left, and hurled him bodily toward the woman.
She snapped her stick sideways, needles flaring to shield her as he crashed near her feet.
No time to breathe.
The four-limbed man dropped from above, all four fists descending like piledrivers, intent on crushing me into the ground. I raised my claws, ready to meet him—
No, Cerberus barked.
I dodged at the last second.
The impact shattered the pavement where I had stood, concrete exploding outward. He landed heavily, momentarily off balance.
I lunged.
My claws arced toward his head. His eyes met mine—wide, terrified. For the first time, I saw it clearly.
Fear.
Relief flashed across his face—
Needles appeared out of nowhere.
One pierced straight through my palm. Another slammed into my shoulder. Pain roared through me, raw and blinding. I staggered back, blood dripping from my hand, fingers spasming uselessly.
The four-limbed man sucked in a shaky breath, shoulders sagging as relief washed over him.
I clenched my teeth, forcing myself upright despite the agony.
They were still standing.
And I was running out of strength.
The boss lit a cigar and smiled faintly, "Looks like you're running out of time, kid."
I scoffed, blood dripping from my palm onto the broken road. "Your life will be forfeit before my stamina runs out."