The moment they breached the cave's mouth, the world shifted beneath their feet. The air thickened, heavy with an unnatural charge that prickled against their skin like static before a storm. Belial's muscles tensed, a coiled spring ready to snap, as his violet eyes swept the jagged terrain. Shadows stretched long and menacing over the cracked earth, cast by a sky roiling with sickly dark-tinged clouds. In the distance, ether shimmered like a mirage, pooling in faint, glowing wisps that drifted on an unseen wind.
The silence was oppressive, broken only by the faint crunch of gravel under their boots.
Something was out there. Watching. Waiting.
Then the monster moved.
A blur of motion erupted from the darkness, low and swift...too swift, unnaturally so. It streaked across the ground, circling them with predatory precision, its form a fleeting shadow against the rocky outcrops. The sound was minimal—just the scraping of claws grazing stone, a ghost of a noise that set Belial's nerves alight. His hand tightened on his sword's hilt, ether pulsing faintly along its edge, ready to ignite.
Xin saw it first. His mind, sharper than his starved body allowed, cut through the haze of exhaustion. His hearing....a gift honed by necessity—painted a vivid, horrifying picture in his mind's eye. The creature was sleek, built for speed, its dark green skin blending seamlessly with the shadows. Its body was lean and sinewy, every muscle taut with purpose. Its head was a nightmare—a narrow maw lined with jagged, snapping teeth that clicked open and shut, tasting the air. A Dusked Minor, Xin realized, the name surfacing from some buried memory of their endless battles. Fast. Deadly. Relentless.
He opened his mouth to warn them, but the words died as it lunged.
Belial reacted on instinct, his body moving before his mind fully registered the threat. He pivoted, boots grinding into the dirt, and slashed upward with his ether-infused blade. The air hummed as the weapon arced, a streak of silver and shadow...but the Dusked Minor twisted mid-leap, its agility defying gravity. The strike missed by inches, the creature landing with a skitter of claws, its muscles coiling for a counterattack. Belial cursed under his breath, adjusting his stance, his violet eyes narrowing as he tracked its every twitch.
Raven was next to move, a black-clad blur of controlled fury. He surged forward, closing the distance with a speed that belied his heavy armor. His fist flashed almost instantly—a measured strike aimed at the creature's head. The Dusked Minor darted aside, its body contorting with uncanny grace, but Raven was relentless. He adjusted mid-motion, his second blow coming in a heartbeat later, a downward punch that caught the beast off-guard. Metal met flesh with a wet crunch, dark blood splattering across the cracked earth as the creature stumbled, sprawling in a tangle of limbs.
But it didn't stop. It wouldn't stop.
The Dusked Minor recovered in an instant, its claws scraping against the rock as it launched itself back at them. Its movements were a blur, a whirlwind of teeth and fury, its screeches piercing the air like shattered glass. Belial's heart pounded, adrenaline flooding his veins as he braced for the next clash. Beside him, Xin exhaled sharply, his fingers tightening around the Dharma Wheel clutched in his hands. The golden disc spun at his command, its edges shimmering with barely-contained ether. He wasn't just a fighter here—he was the fulcrum, balancing the battlefield, channeling energy into his allies while readying his own strike.
"Together!" Belial barked, his voice cutting through the chaos.
He and Raven attacked as one, a synchronized dance of steel and will. Belial's blade arced through the air, a crescent of ether-fueled light that sliced into the creature's side. The cut was deep, tearing through sinew and scale, dark blood welling in its wake. Raven followed an instant later, his sword descending in a brutal arc aimed at the beast's neck. The strike landed with a sickening thud, the Dusked Minor's screech turning ragged as it staggered, its movements growing erratic. Blood oozed from its wounds, pooling beneath it, but still it fought, its yellow eyes burning with feral defiance.
Xin seized the moment.
His stance shifted, the Dharma Wheel glowing brighter as he poured his focus into it. With a sharp gesture, he sent a surge of ether cascading into Raven. The black-armored warrior's body tensed, then blurred—his speed doubling, tripling, as the energy flooded his veins. He moved like a phantom, a shadow given form, his sword slashing downward with devastating force. The blow struck the creature's shoulder, shattering bone and sending it crashing to the ground in a spray of dust and gore. The impact echoed, a dull boom that reverberated through the rocky terrain.
It tried to rise, its claws scrabbling weakly against the stone, its maw snapping in a final, desperate lunge. Xin didn't give it the chance. With a flick of his wrist, the Dharma Wheel spun forward, cutting through the air like a guillotine. It struck the monster's exposed flank, the force rippling through its body as if a shockwave had detonated within. The Dusked Minor let out one last, agonized screech, high and keening before collapsing, its limbs twitching once, then falling still.
For a long moment, none of them moved.
The only sounds were their ragged breaths, harsh and uneven, and the distant howl of wind threading through the jagged rocks. Dust settled around the corpse, the ether mist curling upward in faint tendrils, a ghostly remnant of the life they'd extinguished.
Belial's chest heaved, his sword still raised, as if expecting the beast to spring back to life. Raven stood motionless, his blade dripping with dark blood, his dark eyes fixed on the fallen foe. Xin's hands trembled, the Dharma Wheel dimming as he lowered it, exhaustion tugging at his frame.
Slowly, Xin stepped forward, his boots crunching against the gravel. He knelt beside the creature's cooling corpse, ignoring the ache in his starved muscles, the hollow pang in his gut. This was the crucial part, the reason they fought, the reason they risked everything. He placed a palm against its flesh, the skin still warm despite the stillness, and closed his eyes. His breath steadied as he focused, reaching for the ether within.
It was there...a thick, untamed, a river of raw energy coursing through the remains. He drew it out with careful precision, guiding it into himself, into his core.
The process was slow at first, a trickle of shimmering light that seeped into his veins.
Then it surged, a flood of power that washed over him in waves. The hunger gnawing at his body lessened, a faint reprieve from the eight days of starvation that had hollowed them out. His limbs felt lighter, his mind clearer, though the relief was fleeting...a bandage on a wound too deep to heal fully.
As the last of the ether flowed into him, Xin stood, exhaling deeply. The air tasted of dust and blood, but it was sweeter than the cave's damp rot. He stretched, feeling the energy settle within him—not by much, but enough. Enough to keep going. Enough to survive another day.
Belial watched him, arms crossed, his golden eyes still alight with that unspoken intensity that never seemed to fade. "That was slower than usual," he noted, his tone half-teasing, half-critical.
Xin scoffed, brushing a strand of hair from his painted face. "We've been starving for eight days. I'd like to see you move any faster after that."
Belial grinned, rolling his shoulders with a crack of joints. "I'd still be faster if i could do EMR."
Raven, as usual, said nothing. His silence was still louder than words, It was a steady presence that anchored them through this hell of a mess.
Xin glanced at the corpse, then at the horizon, where the ether mist thickened, hinting at more dangers lurking beyond. The Dusked Minor was dead, but this was no end—just a pause. They'd survived the cave, survived this fight, but the world outside was still a crucible, waiting to test them again. He flexed his fingers, the Dharma Wheel humming faintly at his side, and met Belial's gaze.
"Next one's yours," he said, a challenge in his voice.
Belial's grin widened, sharp and reckless. "Count on it."