Chapter 25 – Crimson Edge

  Snow churned under frantic footsteps.

  The cold bit deep—but not as sharp as the predator among them.

  Seven’s eyes snapped to Jasmine.

  So did Saya’s.

  “JASMINE! MOVE!” Seven bellowed, his voice cracking through the storm.

  But it was too late.

  A streak of crimson and flickering tails blurred across the snow.

  Saya descended like a wraith.

  Nine feet of curved elegance and coiled death landed with no sound—only a whisper of displaced air.

  Jasmine turned to flee, panic in her breath—

  But she stumbled.

  Saya was already there.

  Her claw swept outward in a smooth, deadly arc.

  The strike hit.

  Blood fanned into the cold wind as Saya’s claws carved through Jasmine’s side, catching ribs and tearing fabric. The girl let out a strangled gasp as her body twisted and collapsed into the snow, staining it red.

  Saya tilted her head, licking blood from her knuckles.

  “One down,” she said, voice low and amused.

  Seven’s world tunneled.

  He dove to her side, dropping his rifle. “No, no, no—come on, stay with me!” he hissed, cradling Jasmine’s limp form.

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  Chris slid in beside him, yanking open the medical kit with trembling fingers. “Pressure wrap—now!”

  Jake, acting fast, slammed both hands into the ground and summoned a rising wall of frost between Saya and their group. “She’s coming again—I bought us seconds, nothing more!”

  Yuri stepped forward, blades unsheathed, her breath forming steady clouds in the air.

  Seven met her eyes—blood streaked across his face.

  “She’s yours. I’ll cover.”

  “Understood.”

  She didn’t hesitate.

  Her body shimmered as mana enveloped her limbs. The snow around her feet dispersed in a gust of Lightstep’s pulse, her aura glowing brighter than ever—a divine veil over a steel edge.

  Then she vanished from sight—

  And reappeared mid-strike, slashing for Saya’s throat.

  Claws met steel.

  Tail met blade.

  Saya moved with lazy elegance, parrying with fingers and redirecting with her tails. Her expression was somewhere between delight and curiosity.

  “Ooh… your aura’s lovely,” she purred, her gaze drifting between Yuri and Seven. “You two… you’re the interesting ones.”

  Yuri didn’t answer. Her response was steel and wind.

  She sliced horizontally—releasing a sharp air cutter from her rune-blade. It shrieked as it cut toward Saya.

  Saya reached up to stop it—

  And flinched.

  Blood welled from a thin gash across her palm.

  The first sign of pain.

  Saya looked at the wound.

  Then smiled.

  Seven took the shot.

  Three-round burst.

  The bullets struck center mass—

  But her barrier shimmered, glowing violet for a moment before fading. Her clothes were singed. Her flesh—unharmed.

  Seven growled, swapping mags. “Still nothing.”

  “I expected more,” Saya sighed.

  She sidestepped another of Yuri’s slashes and spun, kicking her in the chest. Yuri flew back into a snowdrift with a muffled grunt.

  Seven barely reacted before two long tails wrapped around his midsection—

  And hurled him into the air.

  He crashed down on stone and ice, landing hard, his breath driven from his lungs. The Nameless Wing skidded several feet away.

  Then she was on him again—

  A brutal kick to the ribs, launching him into a nearby boulder. His vision flared white.

  Greg roared, fists glowing with glitching sigils as he activated his latent strength.

  “I’ve got her!” he bellowed, charging with enough force to shake the ground.

  But power meant little without precision.

  Saya sidestepped his first lunge.

  In a flash, she ducked, spun behind him, and with one cruel motion—

  Drove her claw up into his side.

  Beneath the ribs.

  Right between the lungs.

  Greg’s eyes widened. His breath hitched, blood spilling from his lips. Then—

  He collapsed.

  A body like a mountain hitting snow.

  “GREG!” Yuri screamed, breaking free from the snowbank and rushing to his side.

  But he wasn’t moving.

  Seven tried to rise. His right arm trembled. Blood oozed beneath his armor. Pain burned with every breath.

  He could barely see—but he heard her.

  Saya’s voice, musical and soft:

  “Two down…”

  She stood over Greg, crimson gleaming on her fingers, her tails curling in slow, almost hypnotic waves.

  Chris’s voice broke through the ringing in Seven’s ears:

  “She’s still breathing!” he shouted over his shoulder, still working to keep Jasmine alive.

  “But barely!”

  Jake’s voice followed, desperate: “My wall’s not gonna hold! She’s coming back!”

  Seven rose to one knee.

  Every nerve screamed.

  But he stood.

  “I’m not done yet,” he rasped.

  He grabbed the M4 again.

  “We hold the line.”

  His voice steadied.

  “Yuri—strike with me.”

  Yuri, blood on her lip, nodded.

  Her mana surged again.

  She was breathing hard, but her eyes burned with vengeance.

  Jake readied more frost.

  Maybe it would be enough.

  Saya paused a dozen paces away.

  She crouched low, claws dragging across the snow, her silhouette framed by falling flakes and the blood behind her.

  “You’re still standing…” she murmured. “I like that.”

  Her grin grew wider.

  “You’re not just humans.”

  She laughed, slowly, with a hint of mania.

  “You’re the kind of fight I’ve waited for.”

  She blurred forward.