"Do you trust me?" I asked Elara, my voice low but firm despite the chaos raging around us.
She nodded silently, her small hands clutching my arm like a lifeline. Her trembling pressed against me, fragile yet resolute. I took a deep breath, forcing the deafening sounds of the attack—the shouting, the explosions, the clash of steel—to fade into the background. My resonance skill flared to life, sharpening my senses as I focused on the presences moving closer to us.
They were everywhere. Ten of them, each radiating deadly precision. Most were converging on the king, their intent cold and unyielding, while others were systematically cutting down the knights and soldiers. The mansion was a warzone, and the attackers were relentless, methodical, and terrifying.
One of them was closer now, far too close. His presence burned hot in my senses, sharp and fluid like a blade in motion. Through my resonance skill, I could feel the air bending around him, restless and unnatural. His movements were fast—impossibly fast—and his approach felt like a predator stalking prey, deliberate and lethal.
"This way," I whispered, pulling Elara toward the exit with the least danger. My every step was guided by the constant, urgent warnings of my resonance skill. But no matter how careful I was, I could feel him closing in. His speed wasn't just inhuman; it was suffocating.
We burst onto the balcony, the cool night air biting against my face. Without hesitation, I scooped Elara into my arms, her weight barely registering as adrenaline coursed through me. "Hold on," I muttered.
A faint hum reached my ears, and my resonance skill screamed in warning. I twisted mid-air just in time to dodge a glowing projectile—a shard of energy—that slammed into the wall behind us, exploding in a shower of sparks and stone. The impact sent tremors through the ground, and I shielded Elara as best I could while we landed.
"What the hell was that?" I hissed, my eyes darting back toward the source. A masked figure loomed above, their silhouette framed by the faint glow of their strange weapon. The device on their arm thrummed faintly, another shard locking into place with a mechanical click.
"Caelan..." Elara whimpered, her voice cracking.
"It's okay," I said, though my voice betrayed the lie. My arms tightened around her as I bolted through the garden, weaving through the chaos.
The once-beautiful grounds had become a slaughterhouse. The bodies of knights lay scattered across the grass, their golden armor broken and bloodied. The attackers were cutting through everything in their path, sparing no one. My resonance skill flared again and again, guiding me as I dodged another projectile and twisted away from a swipe of steel.
I struck back when I could, my dagger finding flesh whenever an opening appeared, but every step was a struggle. My focus was singular: get Elara to safety.
But then, I froze. My resonance skill pulsed with a warning that sent ice down my spine. We were cornered.
The stone wall loomed behind us, too high to climb, and in front of us stood the figure I had sensed earlier. He stepped forward with a measured grace, his every movement as sharp as the wind that seemed to stir around him. His presence burned hotter now, oppressive and suffocating. The air felt sharper, heavier, as though his very existence commanded the space around him.
Through my resonance skill, I felt the weight of his intent. He wasn't here for Elara. He wasn't here for me. But if we stood in his way, he wouldn't hesitate to end us.
The figure tilted his head slightly, his posture unnervingly calm yet predatory. He took a single step forward, the faint hum of energy around him growing louder. My grip tightened on my dagger as I shifted my stance, every muscle in my body coiled like a spring.
The space between us seemed to shrink with every heartbeat. His movements were impossibly light, as though the ground itself bent to his will. He stopped a few paces away, his masked face tilted in a way that felt almost curious.
**
"Well... well... lucky me," he cackled gleefully, his voice cutting through the cool night air like a blade. "Two for the price of one." He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming with malice. "I'm going to enjoy this."
I gently set Elara down behind me, her trembling hands clinging to my arm for a second longer than I expected. I pulled away, stepping forward, putting myself between her and this monster. Every fiber of my being screamed at me to run, but there was nowhere to go. This fight was inevitable.
The air smelled sharp and metallic, as if the wind itself carried the scent of blood. My resonance skill burned at full force, every muscle in my body taut like a bowstring pulled to its limit. He, on the other hand, looked completely at ease, his stance casual and carefree. The swirling gusts around him seemed to bend and coil like a living thing, enhancing his speed and unpredictability.
"Who are you, and why are you attacking us?" I asked, my voice steady despite the rapid pounding of my heart.
"It doesn't matter why," he said lazily, waving a hand as if brushing off the question.
My resonance skill flared sharply—danger incoming. I barely had time to react as a sharp gust of wind shot toward me. I dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the slicing air. The wind changed direction mid-flight, curving back toward me like a predator chasing its prey. I twisted awkwardly, just barely dodging again, the blade-like gust grazing my shoulder and drawing blood.
I clenched my teeth and bolted further away from Elara, leading him away so she wouldn't get caught in the chaos. My chest heaved as I gripped my dagger tighter, forcing myself to focus. I wasn't trained for this. I was barely surviving.
"I'm going to kill you," he sneered, his voice laced with venom, "and then get myself some alone time with the princess."
My blood boiled at his words, but I kept my composure. The wind swirled around his legs, propelling him forward with unnatural speed and grace. He was like a blur, darting in and out of my range with impossible agility. Without the warnings from my resonance skill, I'd already be dead.
"Stop moving around like a damn rat! And just die!" he screamed in frustration, unleashing another flurry of wind blades. I ducked and weaved, but not fast enough—one blade sliced across my arm, another grazed my ribs. Shallow wounds stung like fire, my blood seeping into my tattered shirt.
I didn't answer him, saving my breath for survival. Each dodge brought me closer to understanding his rhythm, the subtle shifts in the wind giving away his next move. My resonance skill pulsed with clarity, the patterns of his attacks becoming clearer.
"Fucking bitch!" he cursed, his composure cracking. His strikes became faster but sloppier, his overconfidence turning into frustration. He charged forward, closing the distance between us in an instant.
I braced myself as his twin daggers clashed against mine, the force of his strikes rattling my arms. His movements were fluid, precise, and overwhelming. He was the stronger fighter by far, but my resonance skill allowed me to barely keep up, predicting his slashes a split second before they landed.
Then I made a mistake.
He feinted with his left dagger, baiting me into a parry, but his true strike came from his other hand. His fist, coated in a swirling vortex of wind, slammed into my side with crushing force. The air left my lungs in a violent gasp as I was thrown backward, smashing into the stone wall behind me. Pain exploded in my ribs, and for a moment, I thought I couldn't move.
But adrenaline surged through me, and I rolled out of the way just as another wind blade tore into the spot where I'd been lying. The impact sent chunks of stone flying, sharp fragments cutting into my face and arms.
I scrambled to my feet, dagger trembling in my grip. My breathing was ragged, my body screaming in pain, but I couldn't afford to falter. Not now.
"Getting tired already?" he taunted, stalking toward me. "You should've run while you had the chance. Not that it would've saved you."
I didn't answer. My resonance skill flared, guiding my focus. His wind shifted subtly as he prepared his next attack—a high-speed lunge. I steadied myself, waiting for the perfect moment.
He dashed forward, twin daggers aiming for my throat. This time, I sidestepped, my resonance skill predicting the trajectory of his strike with pinpoint accuracy. His momentum carried him forward, and I twisted, slashing my dagger across his side. The blade bit deep, and he stumbled, a hiss of pain escaping his lips.
"You little—" he snarled, spinning around with a whirlwind of slashes. I ducked under one, parried another, and drove my shoulder into his chest, knocking him off balance.
For the first time, I saw uncertainty in his movements.
He stepped back, clutching his wounded side, the wind around him faltering. I didn't let him recover. I surged forward, feinting high before slashing low, my dagger slicing across his leg. He dropped to one knee, his breaths labored.
"You bastard!" he roared, unleashing a desperate Razorstorm—a flurry of cutting winds in all directions. I dropped to the ground, rolling under the deadly gusts, and pushed forward, closing the gap between us.
As his wind faltered for the briefest moment, I drove my dagger into his chest with all my strength.
He gasped, his eyes wide with shock and rage. The swirling wind around him faded, and his body slumped against mine. I pulled the blade free, and he collapsed to the ground, lifeless.
I stood there, panting, my body aching and bloodied, but I was alive. Elara ran to me, tears streaming down her face as she clung to my arm.
"It's okay," I whispered, though my voice was shaky. "We're okay."