That Angin had risen was a miracle. Liron blinked when he saw the Alchemist, believing the blood loss had caused him to hallucinate. Angin had replaced his missing and torn limbs with stone and the debris that had lain around him. Crude edges protruded out of his body. He hadn’t had the time to create his new arms and legs with any care. Only their functionality mattered. Pieces of his old limbs were still part of his new ones, flesh, and scraps of skin lurking out from between the stones.

  He had filled his guts with dirt, too, suffocating the fire raging inside. His upper torso and head had not been altered. He had left the parts he needed to live alone. He wouldn’t survive for half a day like this, but it allowed him to reenter the fight.

  Angin panted, grunting as he raised his arm. Sweat glittered on his forehead as he fired his rod again. The recoil echoed through him, shaking his makeshift limbs. He groaned, struggling not to collapse. Amor rolled away, dashing behind the wall he had collided into. The last Liron saw of the assassin was him ripping off his left arm, yelling in pain. The explosion of the fireball followed by the dust drowned out any further trace of him.

  Angin stumbled towards Liron. Each step took great effort, his legs crumbling, threatening to fall apart. “L… Liron,” he said, panting. “Ca… can you stand?”

  Liron nodded, holding his right shoulder. He didn’t bother to wipe away his tears. He ground his teeth, testing how much he could move his arm, raising it high. The pain nearly knocked him back down.

  “Well, so much for my new apprentice,” Angin said, eyeing Liron’s knife. “I’ve got him good, but this won’t be enough to make him run. He will attack again, and I need you to…”

  Amor dashed from a wall opposite to them, sprinting right at them. He had reattached his left arm to his body, the burning strings holding it in place. He had taken off his jacket and shirt, tearing them to stitch them together into a blanket. The threads didn’t burn the fabric, only a red glow proved they originated from Amor’s spell. Angin bared his teeth, leaning against the wall as he fired his rod.

  The fireball roared forward, demanding the assassin’s life. Amor stopped, throwing his blanket forward. He shot a needle into it, driving it forward. As it touched the fireball, it triggered the explosions. The missile hadn’t been large enough to either harm them in the blast. Liron and Angin shielded their eyes from the shockwave shoving at them. When they looked back again, the clothes had been eradicated. The strings that had held them together remained. The explosion had flung them high, right above Liron and Angin.

  Amor held the other end of the string in his right hand, pulling hard at it. They snapped forward, wrapping around Angin’s right arm and the rod in his stony hand. The threads cut through his new limb with ease, severing the rod and stone into pieces. Liron ran towards Amor, aiming and shooting three knives at him. The assassin raised his left arm, taking them into his shoulder and forearm.

  In response, a single needle cut through the air. Liron saw it coming, nothing but a scorching burn on his cheek. But why only one? He hadn’t noticed the string attached to the needle. Amor tugged at the thread, dragging out the stone of the wall the needle had bit into. It ripped free, slamming into the back of Liron’s head. His vision wavered, and all went black.

  Angin rushed Amor, his other hand clenched into a fist. He wouldn’t generate a lot of power, but a punch with a fist of stone would knock out anybody. The assassin turned to the Alchemist, a needle in his left hand. Too close to fire it, he stabbed at him. Angin evaded the attack, taking hold of his forearm. A second or two was all he needed to break it. But before he did so, he saw that Amor didn’t hold the needle in his fingers. It pierced out of his hand.

  Spearheads exploded out of the forearm, their flames burning bright. They tore through Angin, breaking through his arms, leaving nothing but scorched stumps at his elbows. The Alchemist stumbled backwards, falling down. He coughed up blood, the spell having touched his chest, too. Amor had made sure they weren’t deep enough to kill.

  As the spearheads vanished, the left forearm was nothing but a burnt husk, emptied out by the needles Amor had shoved inside. The threads vanished, and his arm dropped to the ground. Amor pulled out the knives from his shoulder, gritting his teeth. He leaned on his knee as the last one was out, panting.

  Angin stared at Amor, his expression twisted into something sad and pathetic. His teeth chattered, and he crawled backwards, passing Liron without a glance. “Pl… please!” he cried. “Have mercy!”

  Amor watched Angin walking after him. He made a pause by Liron, kicking him a few times. As he didn’t move, he followed the Alchemist. He limped, his foot leaving bloody traces behind. The assassin looked down at Angin, somber. But the signs of a sneer carved themselves into his features.

  This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

  “You two are more trouble than I’d thought,” Amor said. He nodded towards his many wounds. “Hurt like shit. Do you know how expensive healing my arm will be? Well, you probably do. The blood loss is getting to my head. I will have to stitch all wounds close thanks to you. Won’t be pretty.”

  “I… I know,” Angin said, his voice quavering. “Apologies. Please, yo… you have to understand. Of course we would fig… fight back. Show mercy to us. We will do whatever you want from us.”

  Amor watched him, saying nothing. “Give me everything you know about the Resistance. I want something big. Big enough to make Rarn happy enough, so he owes me.”

  Angin nodded. “Of course. I’ll tell you everything I know.”

  “Good. I’ll have to put him through the ringer a bit. You and the boy.”

  Horror consumed Angin’s features, draining them of all hope he had gained. “Wh… what? B… but why?”

  “Please. We both know why. Have to make sure you’re telling the truth. I’ll start with the boy. I know you don’t feel pain, so I’m gonna make the Ravenspawn scream until you activate it again or enable it or whatever you call it.”

  Angin glanced at Liron, not stopping crawling backwards. “Wh… what will happen to him?”

  “To the Ravenspawn? I’m gonna kill him. Can’t let him live. Rarn would throw me into a dungeon until the True Dawn if I let him go. Sorry, if you like him. But it’s just what it is. And he killed my raven, and I take that personally. I really liked that bird.”

  “Can’t we make a deal? You cou…”

  Amor held his hand up, shaking his head. “You’re no fool, Angin. You know how this goes. The two of us, we can make a deal. After this is over, I’ll let you live. Drom’s embrace, I’ll even help you fake your death. Rarn will find work for you, I’m sure of that. Might not be enough to deceive the Resistance, but it’s the best you can get. That’s the deal. Nothing more.”

  “Amor, please. Let’s…

  “No,” Amor said, sounding annoyed. He fired a needle into Angin’s shoulder, the spell seething the Alchemist’s flesh. “I’m done with this. I’m very reasonable, Angin. Any other would have gutted you already. But not me. I listen to what you have to say, and I give you an honest and good offer. There are downsides to it, yes, but that’s all you can expect. You should be thankful.”

  Angin stopped crawling, Amor right in front of him. His demeanor changed. Gone was the scared Faeling, begging for his life. A wicked smile twisted his lips, glaring at the assassin like a cat would at a mouse they have driven into a corner. Amor narrowed his eyes upon seeing this. He looked around, noticing he stood on the crushed Nanium of Angin’s gloves. The Alchemist’s foot touched them, and their runes came alive.

  “You aren’t the only one that can be a deceptive cunt,” Angin said.

  Amor hissed. The Nanium shot upwards, forming spikes. They pierced Amor’s leg, digging through his flesh. They didn't have the size to reach further up, but the damage they did made the assassin scream, staring at his ruined leg. With them in place, he couldn’t move an inch.

  His face paled, sweat pouring down his forehead. His eyes had gone wild, and he bared his teeth at Angin. A single needle appeared in front of him, its tip pointing at Angin’s heart. “This changes nothing!” Amor yelled. “The deal’s off the table! You’ll fucking die now!”

  Angin glanced past Amor, a triumphant serenity emerging from his smile. The smile of someone whose plan had worked out like he had hoped. Amor didn’t have to look behind him. He had believed himself victorious. He had performed his plan perfectly, outplaying both. Perhaps it was his exhaustion and wounds that blinded him. Or, perhaps, he had grown arrogant when dominating them.

  Liron stood no five feet away from the assassin, more ghost than man. He stood like he was in a trance. His eyes focused on nothing. His mouth hung open, drops of spit and blood stuck to his lips. The world reached him, dampened, looking and sounding through a thick veil. But he knew the silhouette in front of him was Amor.

  He wouldn’t be able to stand for long, so he had to make it count.

  First, he lowered his stance, spreading his legs apart. They took an L-shape, each foot at one end of the letter. Then, he straightened his back. He shouldn’t give his opponent any opening. Last, he raised his hands. Not by much, but high enough. The knife appeared in his hands, smoke engulfing it. This would not suffice. He needed a sword.

  The smoke responded to his demands, changing. It formed a longer handle, both hands able to grasp it. The knife’s blade extended, growing into a double-edged longsword. Dark as the night, his new weapon towered over the assassin. Amor jerked around, a needle in his hands.

  As Lance had taught him, Liron pulled at the pummel first. His right hand guided the sword, ensuring its edge would find its target. His downward slash was simple and plain. Normally, the assassin would have avoided it with ease. But now, it clashed with the needle, cleaving it in two. The blade slashed through his hand, splitting it wide open. Its tip alone bit into Amor’s throat, slicing it open.

  The momentum of Liron’s hau dragged him forward. His sword disappeared, and he collapsed, lost in a deep slumber. Both Liron and Angin lay defeated, with nothing to defend himself from Amor. The assassin only stood. But blood poured out of his throat. He pressed his sliced hand against it, but it was in vain.

  Angin let the spikes vanish, the Nanium returning to its former shape. Amor fell down, staring at the Alchemist. He rattled, crimson streaming out from his fingers. Tears formed at the edges of his eyes. They weren’t for himself.

  “Tr… Tris…”

  Amor tried again and again, but whatever his last word was, it died with him, never heard by anyone but himself.