ChengYu clutched Aeloryn and Hidaea tight.

  Silverwing’s wings flared wide—his embrace locked as if his arms alone could shield the last fragile thread of life.

  Spirit howled through every vein.

  His body tore through fog like a comet, a silver blaze ripping the night apart.

  The two healers pressed against him.

  Their weight dragged at his ribs and spine until bone groaned.

  Every burst of Silverwing’s speed raked his shoulders raw, hooks of fire gouging flesh.

  Breath scorched his throat. The world fractured—only shadows whipping backward at merciless speed.

  Ridges blurred. Dead forest dissolved behind.

  Up ahead, faint as a mirage—the shimmer of the barrier.

  One last surge.

  He wrung Silverwing dry, every shred of spirit-force burned into wings.

  His body became light itself—

  and smashed through the ward in a blinding streak.

  ?

  A Step-Stone flared—white fire bursting beneath YiChen’s boots.

  He carried Elena in silence, racing through a forest split by smoke and flame.

  She was too light.

  Weightless.

  A feather cut from its bird.

  Her warmth barely lingered through his armor.

  Skin damp. Cold.

  Trembling—like life slipping grain by grain through an hourglass.

  YiChen’s jaw locked until blood seeped from his gums.

  One arm cinched her waist, the other shielded her neck.

  Steady. Unyielding.

  As if even the air itself might break her.

  Her lashes brushed his collar, trembling like a butterfly’s wings in storm.

  She made no cry. No plea.

  Only when another Step-Stone hurled them forward—

  a low, broken whimper slipped from her lips.

  That silence—

  that swallowed pain—

  stabbed him deeper than any blade.

  He buried it.

  Locked it down.

  The only answer left—

  was to hold her closer.

  ?

  Around them—air split.

  Trees snapped.

  Shockwaves rolled like thunder, the Sovereign’s roar turning valleys to quake.

  Every blink of the Step-Stone was a leap through a collapsing world.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  They could not stop. Not once.

  YiChen’s breath was iron.

  In his ears—only the hammer of his heartbeat.

  I will get her out alive.

  The vow carved itself again and again—

  not prayer,

  not hope,

  but law.

  The last law left standing in a world undone.

  ——————

  The Gilded Flamefang Sovereign thundered forward, molten hooves splitting the earth.

  Never—never in his life—had he been toyed with so.

  These insects would learn.

  He sniffed the air.

  One of them stumbled. Twice.

  Brown hair. Weak.

  His molten jaws split wide.

  ?

  The Brighton brothers. Leif. David. Gerold.

  They had barely severed their link to the shattered array.

  Barely swallowed spirit-pills.

  Not even a minute had passed—

  before the Sovereign awoke.

  Now he stormed after them like a wrathful mountain torn from its chains.

  Step-Stones flared white beneath their boots, silver bursts ripping scars through the dark.

  Gerold’s eardrums split at the roar.

  Leif clenched his jaw until blood welled.

  One slip—half a breath too slow—

  and their spines would be red vapor.

  Still, the beast gained.

  The night reeked of molten blood.

  Every heartbeat hammered.

  Every stride was a prayer unsaid.

  David glanced back.

  That glance killed him.

  The Sovereign burst from the trees—

  snapped a redwood in two.

  Splinters fell like spears.

  Then his jaws clamped.

  “—ghhh!”

  Bite. Waist to chest crushed.

  David loosed rupture-arrows into his maw—

  the blast scorched his throat—

  but the Sovereign only shook him like a rag doll.

  “David!!” Leif’s cry ripped raw.

  Gerold seized his arm, dragging him forward with iron fury.

  “GO!”

  Behind—bones snapped.

  The monster chewed slow, savoring.

  Flesh. Soul. Memories flooding his veins.

  He shuddered in delight.

  And kept running.

  ?

  Silver streaks slashed on.

  Ian staggered, Step-Stones sputtering weak, spirit near gone.

  Heat roared at his back.

  A crimson blur lunged.

  Claws fell like a mountain.

  At the last instant—Noah turned.

  He shoved Ian aside—

  and hurled himself into the strike.

  BOOM—!

  Claws ripped him open.

  Blood rained across the stones.

  “Brother!!”

  Ian’s scream shattered the night.

  The Sovereign pinned Noah underfoot, molten blood pouring.

  Noah gasped.

  With the one arm left, he shoved Ian back—eyes burning, voice broken:

  “Go… now…”

  Then flame burst.

  The beast spat fire onto his body.

  His scream raked the heavens raw.

  Ian’s soul split with it.

  And in the blaze—he saw it.

  A fragile light drifted upward from Noah’s brow—his soul.

  The Sovereign’s molten jaws parted, drinking it in.

  ?

  “NO!!”

  Step-Stone flared—

  Ian hurled himself beneath the monster, wrenching Noah’s soul from its pull.

  Claws smashed him aside.

  Bones cracked, flesh tore open.

  Still—his grip never loosed.

  He staggered upright, chest caved, organs raw in the night air.

  And still forced Step-Stones to blaze, one after another, dragging Noah’s soul away in ragged streaks of silver.

  ?

  The Sovereign did not chase.

  He sat back in ruin, savoring.

  Blood still dripped from his claws, hissing to smoke.

  Slowly he raised them—licked each talon clean.

  In his molten eyes, mockery glimmered.

  Almost gentle.

  “No hurry…

  You’re all mine.”