Sayed pushed himself up from the ground, tossing his entire body to the side as the woman stepped forward with her spear. They had been caught unaware and flatfooted. If he did not move fast, they would lose the fight before it had even begun.

  "Demon's Claw!"

  Sayed scratched his hand through the stone road beneath him and Jean, throwing himself forward at the woman without a second thought. He trusted Jean to do the same for the men with rifles. Together, they could reverse the tale.

  Thump.

  He threw himself hard into the woman, knocking her to the side with his larger body and sending them both sprawling to the ground. His sword was left behind on the ground beside Jean. He only had time to act and not enough to plan. Behind him, Jean jumped into the remaining soldiers, crashing into them with a flurry of kicks that Sayed could not follow. He was too busy tracking his own fight.

  "Spirit Battement!"

  "Get off me!"

  The woman struck at Sayed with her head. He was too close for her to use her spear, and his grip around her torso kept her from turning her body. Sayed grunted as he held onto her tight. She would be on him with her spear the moment he let go, and he would need time to reach his sword. It was not an enviable position, but he could overcome it.

  "My grip will hold until the sun sets a thousand times!" Sayed gripped her tight, stood with her, and looked over to check on Jean.

  Bang. Bang.

  Sayed watched as Jean dodged between the soldiers, kicking at them while the few who had gotten their rifles focused fire on him. They should have been easy opponents, but Sayed had seen what the bullets had done. They had ripped through his aetheric wall like it was cloth, and if the bullets had hit either of them, Sayed knew it would be the end. Whatever the strange weapons were, they were made to take down strong opponents.

  Truly, they had been caught unawares. Sayed had to admit to that. Like he had said when first presented the problem of Tartarus, they were trapped in a valley with enemies above. However, that did not mean that all was lost.

  Sayed took that moment to make a decision. Normally, he would try to take the woman alone and leave the soldiers to Jean, but that would only lead to a foolish end to this tale. Sayed was no fool. He knew that they needed to get back on the ship. If the Military Police knew where they were, the ship was in jeopardy.

  "Pierce him, Thorn!"

  Brrt.

  Sayed first thought to look for another opponent, but the spear in the woman's hands rattled instead. Sayed looked down just in time to see the haft of the spear stretch, growing longer than it should ever be before it shot out from the spear and into the air like a thrusting sword. Sayed had an instant to decide, and he decided without hesitation.

  Scrtch.

  He threw himself from the woman and back toward his sword, catching himself on all fours before his fallen blade. As he did it, the head of the spear came down from its aerial thrust, turning at an impossible angle to land right where Sayed had stood.

  Crack.

  The spearhead embedded itself into the stone beside the woman. Sayed had to blink to be sure of what he saw. The spear hadn't left the woman's hands but had stretched longer than three of the original length of the spear, curved midair, and come down to pierce where Sayed had stood. Was it the woman's curse or blessing?

  No. Sayed was sure. She had not taken in a breath or called power into her body. He had seen this before with a swordsman named Siegfried. A weapon that bore a curse all its own.

  "Retract."

  Brrt.

  The spear retracted like a recoiling spring, cutting through the air and returning to its original form. Sayed could see the power of her spear, though he did not know its full extent. Now, he only needed to fight.

  "You poor fools," the woman said. "My captain is already taking your ship while you fight us, yet you're still trying. You lost this fight before it began."

  "Terrible news to lay upon me now." Sayed nodded, his thoughts going to Artur. "But I cannot change what has happened. I can only fight my way forward."

  "You'll be in chains," the woman said, one blue eye glancing over to Jean.

  Sayed took that opportunity. All he needed was one moment. He reached back with one hand, grasping the hilt of his sword as he took in a breath. He opened his gate wide and grinned as heat erupted from his heart.

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  "Stand with me now in this shaded valley," Sayed whispered. "I fear I need all the power I can muster."

  Fire raced down his fingers and through his arms. It roiled through him like a raging inferno, going through his hand and into his sword. Sayed held his sword out and looked up at the woman.

  "So now you're going to bare your fangs," the woman said, spinning her spear in a circle before catching it and holding it pointed to the ground. "Took you long enough."

  "My apologies, Jean," Sayed said as he watched Jean fight off the soldiers. "I might not be able to help you."

  "That's your curse then, 'Sword Saint?'" the woman asked.

  "You may call me Sayed if you will." Sayed smiled. "And yes, this is my blessing."

  He drew in a deep breath, forcing more aether into his gate and heating up the edge to a bright orange. He focused his eyes on the tip of the spear. Steam rose out of his skin, as fire raged through his muscles, and the air around him shimmered.

  "Let me show you the end of this tale. Desert Mirage."

  Bang. Zip.

  Jean ducked another shot as he charged the nearest of his opponents, his foot catching the man in the chest before being grabbed by an outstretched hand. The man tried to throw Jean to the ground, but Jean tilted back, freeing his foot from the man's grip as another bullet shot past his head.

  He chuckled.

  The men fought like machines, not caring for injury, even as Jean had broken arms and legs. Every opponent knocked away just returned moments later while the ones at range continued to pour more bullets at him.

  In any other circumstance, this would be an enjoyable fight. In truth, his blood pumped as he traded blows with the soldiers. These were not the ordinary enlisted men of the Military Police, who would cave in with a little resistance. These were elite soldiers who had trained to fight outlaws like Jean and his crew, and it showed. They had a plan to take him down, and the will to do it.

  "Bereft of your aid," Jean whispered, catching himself on the backfoot before jumping forward with a burst of aether. "Spirit Step."

  He disappeared, jumping behind the gunmen and knocking them down with a swift kick. The two gunmen fell, dropping their rifles just as two soldiers opposite of him raised their own.

  Bang.

  The bullets had already severed his connection to Eliza, and the five soldiers were successfully keeping him moving too much to call her back. Jean charged forward, going for the two gunmen again while hands grasped at his legs from the fallen soldiers below them.

  "Spirit Step."

  They should have been dead. His kicks had been strong enough to crack their skulls, and Jean had given up on being kind once he had noticed the effects of the bullets. There was no room for mercy when they were going for the kill. However, no matter how hard he struck, the soldiers always managed to rise again.

  Crack.

  He knocked down the two soldiers just as the ones he had left behind reached for their weapons. Jean grimaced. This was going nowhere, and he needed another solution. He needed a way to permanently take down the seemingly immortal soldiers or a way to disarm them. However, both sides were keen to keep him on his toes.

  They would turn their weapons on Sayed and then come for him if he ran. That wasn't an option. Sayed was too busy dealing with their leader to assist. He could not delay forever.

  "Spirit Strings!"

  He flung out his hands as he charged into the far opponents. Long lines of purple aetheric energy trailed from his fingertips as the soldiers aimed at him. Jean had decided to take a risk. If they kept repeating the same actions, he would have to do something different.

  Bang. Ting.

  Two shots were fired from the rifles, and one slammed into Jean's chest. He grimaced as bones cracked beneath his robes. There was no pain, just a dull thud and an absence as his left arm fell to the side, useless. No aether flowed through his torso on that side, and his entire sense through his bones faded to a series of pinpricks along his body.

  "Spirit Step."

  His body didn't move, and no aether flowed into his legs. Jean grimaced, throwing out his right hand and sending his strings out and into the two soldiers. At least his right side retained the aetheric flow, and the strings successfully attached themselves to the soldier's rifles.

  "I'll take those!"

  Jean ripped on the strings, carrying the rifles away as he rushed into the men. They tried to hold onto the rifles, but Jean had already thrown them toward the soldiers, who were undoubtedly recovering behind him.

  Bang. Thunk.

  Right on cue, the shots came from behind him, and Jean jumped behind the two soldiers in front of him, putting their bodies between him and the bullets. He threw his strings around the two soldiers in their confusion, drawing their bodies around his own as a shield. The bodies shook as bullets slammed into him, and Jean ducked down to the ground.

  "You leave me little choice," Jean said as he tightened the strings.

  The soldiers struggled against it but weren't strong enough to break the strings. Unless a bullet specifically hit the thin purple energy, they would remain unbroken. Jean turned, holding up his right arm and picking up the men so that they would be between him and the other two soldiers. With his shield upright, he walked forward, even as the soldiers continued pouring more bullets into their comrades.

  Bang. Thunk. Bang. Thunk.

  To his surprise, the soldiers still struggled even as their comrades continued shooting into them. No blood flowed from their bodies, but he didn't have time to examine why. Instead, he lined himself up with the shooting soldiers, charging across the battlefield until he reached them. The soldiers fired robotically, unmoving in their fire.

  Slam. Thud.

  Jean used the bodies of the soldiers to knock the guns away, sending the rifles flying for a final time. More strings stretched from his fingertips, wrapping around the soldiers and drawing them into the ball. He could no longer carry them, but they were successfully restrained. He released his hold on the soldiers, dropping them to the ground in a ball as he staggered back.

  "I know not what sorcery fuels you," he whispered as his vision swam. "But I do know that you are no ordinary men."

  The soldiers didn't respond as he fell to the ground, looking up at the night sky above as his world spun around him. He thought to remove the bullet from his ribs. Perhaps that was what was causing the problem. However, he didn't seem to have the strength. Every movement of his body was impossibly slow.

  Jean knew he couldn't close his eyes. The moment he did, his gate would close, and the soldiers would be free. However, he couldn't seem to string together his thoughts. The world darkened around his eyes as they closed.

  "Demon's Divide!"