Chapter 2: Madness

But the man wasn’t a rank one in name only. He heard him coming and turned with quicksilver speed. He reached out and grabbed the sword with his bare hand, twisting it from Riven’s grip with a yank and pulling him forward in the process.

The man caught Riven by the neck, his hand digging into his flesh like claws. “Is this your brother? The one that can’t use his Sigil? I should take that burden away from you, Ysmera.”

Riven spluttered as he tried to inhale, his face reddened and his eyes watered. He tried to slap the hand holding him, but it was like trying to bend steel. A rank one could break normal human into two if they wanted.

The sight of her brother struggling finally forced Ysmera out of her shock. It was aa if she wore a mask, covering everything else. She hissed and lurched forward, slamming into her husband-to-be, using her head to jab him underneath his chin.

The man grunted and released Riven, who fell to the ground, greedily taking deep breaths while clutching his throat. But he didn’t stay down. He began crawling away from the area as his sister began to fight.

The last thing he wanted was to be caught between two fighting aura practitioners. He ducked behind a chair, still holding his neck with his right hand while his left gripped his sword tightly.

“So it was a lie?” Ysmera demanded despite herself, a crack appearing in her impassive. It stung to think everything was an elaborate play and she was chosen as the target for such.

Her eyes flashed with fury as she buried her pain. She drew on her Sigil, and red aura covered her, warping thinly around her body like tight-fitting armor.

Without waiting for the man to speak, she threw herself at him, a blur of red.

Rank one and rank two aura practitioners couldn’t project their techniques at these levels. They could only strengthen their bodies and senses and form thin shields around themselves.

But the difference between the two ranks was still clear. Riven didn’t know what the husband-to-be was thinking when he, a rank one, thought he could fight a rank two. Maybe he assumed she’d be too desperate to attack him and somehow just go on with it.

Then he did not know her as Riven obviously does.

Ysmera crossed the distance in a blink and punched him right in the face, snapping his head back and making his green shield crack. Blood gushed from his crooked nose, and he yelped, flinching back as he raised his hand to block her.

But she was angry now. She grabbed the hand he raised, jerked him toward her, and then headbutted him so hard he crumpled right there, his shield shattering.

Riven couldn’t help the smile that flitted to his lips. Ysmera was one of the strongest rank twos in their village, and he was always in awe whenever she fought. As a fire aura practitioner, she should have been fighting with swords or something suited to the elegant way fire danced.

But not her. She fought and wrestled like a bull.

The smile soon faded as the clash of fighting intensified. “We have to get out of here,” he said, stepping out from his hiding place.

Ysmera nodded without turning to him. She cast a last glance at the man and turned toward the hall. “Let’s go.”

It didn’t escape Riven that she hadn’t killed him. If not for their urgency and her presence, he would have finished him off. His hand itched with the need to slide his sword across his throat.

He had no qualms about killing an unconscious man, especially one who had tried to kill him. And insulted his sister.

“You are too kind, Ysmera,” he said as he stepped beside her. It was what she always told him when he was a child and hadn’t yet learned how cruel the world could be.

She frowned, opened her mouth, then closed it with a shake of her head. Finally, she said grimly, “Only this once.”

Then they faced the hall.

It was complete chaos. Thin, translucent shields of different colors covered bodies, weapons glinted in the air, and each slash added to the pool of blood on the ground. Body parts littered the floor, some still attached to their twitching owners by thin strings of flesh.

And in the middle of it all were the two village heads, raining down techniques that killed more villagers than they hurt each other.

The two green-robed strangers stood at the other end, close to the only entrance. A faint green aura covered them.

Riven had seen many fights and small battles when villages clashed, but nothing like this. “This is madness.”

Ysmera nodded. “And yet, we must get out of here.”

They weren’t the only ones thinking the same thing. Some people were trying to fight their way out but kept getting swallowed by the tide.

“What if we stick to the wall there?” Riven pointed. His hand on the sword was slick with sweat, and he was doing his best to keep his voice steady. “Most of the rank threes are fighting closer to the middle.”

Without a word, Ysmera gestured for him to follow. She was far faster than him, but she slowed down as she plowed through the chairs arranged close to the wall. Then she simply began crushing her way over.

Riven ran behind her, doing his best to keep up as he picked his way over broken furniture. Each step was a beat in his fast-thumping heart. Blood splattered him, and he had to duck more than once to avoid getting skewered.

They nearly made it. They got close to the entrance.

And that was when the two strangers decided they wanted to join the fight.

Ysmera didn’t think so. She turned, picked up Riven as if he weighed nothing, and then, in a streak of red, ran straight for the door.

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