The most dangerous opponent was still standing. Lucas’s lifeless body slumped at my feet. I drove my shoe into his chest, sending him crashing into the cave wall with a hollow thud that echoed through the tunnels. The dust rose like smoke around the body that had nearly ended me.

  “The Hatchahuk didn’t get a proper end.” I muttered. “So you won’t either.”

  A slow clap answered. Kanglim’s grin was wide and cruel. “Good job, good job,” he said, voice heavy with mockery. “If only Ryan was like that.”

  I didn’t interrupt him. Letting him talk meant more time—seconds to breathe, to collect what little strength I still had. My arms throbbed with pain, my ribs cracked with each inhale. This silence was my ally.

  Kanglim front-kicked the air lazily, the motion sharp and precise. “Ryan and Lucas went through so much just to die at your hands. Ryan more so, with that red room and all.” His balance never faltered. He stood on one leg like a master.

  “If only he decided to train his leg muscles some more.” Kanglim continued, lifting his chin, “Ryuha wouldn’t have abandoned him.”

  I blinked, trying to follow his rambling. What is this monologue?

  Kanglim looked directly at me, eyes gleaming. “You remember what Ryan’s weakness was? He had to spin to unleash attacks worth a damn.”

  He crouched and rolled up the fabric of his pants, revealing calves that looked sculpted from steel—dense, swollen muscle cords that dwarfed mine. “With my legs...” he said, flexing them with quiet pride, “even a side kick is powerful.”

  Before I could blink, he was already moving. Kanglim charged, his footfalls cracked the ground beneath him, each step a miniature quake. His right knee bent, aiming for Kaiguya’s chin. We didn’t have time to react.

  The kick connected with a sickening crack. Kaiguya’s head snapped back, teeth scattering like stones. His body flew upward and embedded into the jagged cave ceiling, rock splintering around him. He hung there limply, blood trickling down his temple. He wasn’t dead—but he was knocked out.

  Kanglim turned toward me, feral eyes burning. “Now imagine if I spin...”

  I recognized the danger in this attack. If it landed, no mastery of Aikido would save me.

  He shifted his weight, coiling his left leg, but his body jerked mid-motion. His foot caught seemingly nothing, and he stumbled back. He hit the ground awkwardly, the failure echoing from his ankle. He crashed beside Alexander’s motionless form.

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  Then I saw it—Kanglim's foot twitch. Right before that chin kick landed, Kanglim managed to land one last kick in that fraction of a second. You saved me. I will repay you.

  Kanglim didn’t panic. He sat up, grabbed his foot, and twisted. A wet crunch as he reset the bone himself. His face barely moved. He could probably fight on that leg for a few more attacks. Unfortunately, that was all he’d need to finish me.

  My arms trembled. Blocking wasn’t an option anymore, one more hit and they’d shatter entirely. My options flickered through my head like flashcards. Dodge and counter? No. He was too fast. Needle Point? No, he’d kill me mid-strike. Full power with reckless abandon... that was the only play left.

  I raised my arms in an X, forcing the reinforcement through my cracked bones and torn muscle. My vision pulsed at the edges.

  Kanglim smiled. It wasn’t arrogance. It was satisfaction. This seemed like the moment he’d been waiting for. He took a single step forward.

  Then two arms wrapped around him from behind.

  Alexander. Somehow, impossibly, he was awake and moving. His grip was iron, locking Kanglim in place.

  Odina didn’t hesitate. She had one last lightsteel arrow nocked, eyes narrow and focused. The bowstring thrummed, and the arrow streaked through the air toward Kanglim’s temple.

  I burst forward, pain be damned. I wasn’t going to waste the chance Alexander had just bought with his life. He knew what my attack would do—that it would hit him too. Maybe that was the point.

  Kanglim thrashed, but Alexander held tight, teeth clenched, shaking.

  Kanglim crouched suddenly, trying to throw him off, but Alexander only tightened his grip, smiling through the blood dripping from his chin. “If I couldn’t at least do this,” he whispered, “he would be disappointed in me.”

  “You idiot!” Kanglim roared.

  Piercing Hand × Reinforced Fist: Axiom Cross.

  That would be the name of this technique. I tore through the air, every nerve screaming. Odina’s arrow struck first, the point splitting skin and bone with a flash. My strike followed a heartbeat later.

  The cut didn’t sound like a blade—it sounded otherworldly and divine. My arm screamed as muscle fibers tore apart under the strain, but the attack landed clean. Kanglim’s body was ripped open from shoulder to hip, the force cleaving through him as if he were made of paper.

  The cave filled with the sound of meat tearing, bones cracking. When it stopped, Kanglim was in pieces. Upper left, upper right, lower left, lower right, and the center that had once held his heart.

  Alexander took the hit too. The side of his torso split, deep but not fatal. He coughed blood, then pushed Kanglim’s head off his shoulder and collapsed beneath the corpse. His chest still rose and fell. Alive, with some room to spare.

  I turned immediately toward Kaiguya. His body still hung embedded in the rock, unmoving. I leapt up and sliced the stone apart, freeing him. We fell together, my legs absorbing the landing with practiced control so he wouldn’t take another hit.

  I laid him down gently on the cold concrete floor. His chest rose, shallow but steady. For a heartbeat, I feared the worst.

  Odina sprinted over, her bow clattering as she knelt beside him.

  Kaiguya’s eyes fluttered open, groggy and bloodshot. Recognition slowly found its way into his expression. He spat out a few cracked teeth and gave a faint, tired grin.

  “I didn’t die.”