Kyren found himself back at the gate, scanning the area for Lydel. He had to tell his friend what he'd just seen. He spotted him leaning against the iron gate, which stood open and unattended.
Kyren approached quickly. "I think we've got a big problem. That carriage went inside the church."
Lydel frowned. "So? The drug runners are using the church as a hideout. What's the big deal?"
"It's not just the drug runners," Kyren said, his voice low and serious. "There's a whole cult. I don't know exactly what I saw, but that preacher—the guy we were following—did something to Thneed. His body grew massive, and his mana… it started swirling the opposite way."
Lydel's expression hardened. "So the drug runners are part of a cult. Guess that means we need to get inside."
Kyren smirked. "Ever stolen a carriage before?"
Lydel raised an eyebrow. "What? No! Why would I have?"
"Then tomorrow's a good time to learn. Let's ask around about the cult tonight, and tomorrow, we 'borrow' a ride back to the church."
Lydel chuckled, shaking his head. "Sounds like a stupid plan, but I never claimed to be smart."
"Come on. We'll start in the entertainment district." Kyren led the way through the gates, weaving past the courthouse until they reached the heart of the nightlife.
A large flashing sign read Main Street. The dirt roads were lined with old houses repurposed into bars, brothels, and gambling halls. The air smelled of smoke and cheap alcohol. The first building they approached had a worn-out wooden sign hanging over the door: Ryes Tavern. The muffled sound of laughter and conversation spilled from inside.
Kyren pushed the door open, stepping into a dimly lit space packed with about twenty people. It was his first time in a bar. Tables were scattered around the room, while a long wooden counter stretched along the far side. Behind it stood a man polishing a glass, surrounded by bottles of varying shapes and colors.
Lydel stumbled in behind him, looking just as lost. They hesitated for a moment before heading to the counter and taking a seat.
Kyren glanced up at the bartender. "I'm not from around here. What is this place?"
The older man's voice was calm and knowing. "You mean this humble shack, or the mess outside?"
"A little of both," Lydel added.
The man nodded. "Name's Ryes. This is my tavern. As for everything else… this is Sintara, a place run by the night."
Kyren leaned in. "I saw something last night—something I've never seen before. Inside that church."
Ryes' eyes flicked toward the back corner of the room. His tone dropped. "Oh, you mean the life of the village."
Kyren narrowed his eyes. "How long has it been like this?"
Ryes hesitated. "Ten years, maybe more. The name's gotten big enough that even inner-city folk come sniffing around."
Kyren pressed on. "Has he always destroyed people like that? What he did to that man wasn't natural."
A visible shudder ran through Ryes. He cast another glance toward the back wall.
Chairs scraped against the wooden floor. The men who had been chatting moments ago were now standing, cracking their knuckles. Some reached for weapons at their hips.
Ryes let out a weary sigh. "I think you boys should take this outside."
Kyren and Lydel stood just as a bottle flew from the back of the room. Kyren sidestepped, summoning Lion's Requiem and Eclipsing Fang, one in each hand. Lydel drew SilverFang from his hip.
"Let's wait until they follow us outside," Kyren muttered, but before he could finish, a man his height moved with alarming speed. A dagger flashed from his boot as he lunged.
Kyren barely dodged, stepping back toward the door. He twisted his grip on Lion's Requiem and slammed the flat of the blade against the man's head. The attacker crumpled instantly, but another was already charging.
Lydel yanked Kyren's sleeve. "Let's fight them at the exit—it'll even the odds."
Without hesitation, they slipped outside. Two men rushed after them.
Kyren slammed the door shut behind them and turned to Lydel. "Summon your armor. No holding back."
A wave of mana rained down as their clothes morphed into the Raiment of the Black and Silver Lion. The two men barreling after them were immediately met with ruthless blows—hilts and fists colliding with sickening force.
More followed, stepping into the street. But the crowd didn't join the fight. They only watched.
Then, a man emerged from the tavern's shadows.
Short—shorter than Lydel—but his baggy clothes draped unnaturally over his frame. His skin looked loose, as if it didn't belong to him, and his head seemed too large for his body.
He stepped down the porch stairs, and suddenly, the world shifted.
The mana in the air swirled violently toward him. His body distorted, muscles expanding grotesquely. In an instant, he was triple his size.
Then, he moved.
Faster than anything Kyren had ever seen.
Kyren barely had time to step left before the beast was upon him. Lydel slashed upward, then rolled away, leaving an afterimage. Kyren tried to activate Flash Step, but he was a second too slow.
A fist the size of his head slammed into his chest.
Kyren flew back, skidding across the dirt road, tearing up the ground beneath him. He coughed, pain flaring through his ribs. The beast was already sprinting toward him.
Kyren needed a plan. One clean dodge—that's all I need.
The overhand punch came down. Kyren tried to duck inside but caught a glancing blow to the back. He tumbled left, gasping, but recovered just in time to activate Flash Step, reappearing at the beast's flank.
Lion's Requiem slashed downward. The blade struck the monster's arm—barely cutting through.
A counterpunch slammed into Kyren's chest, sending him crashing into a building. Stone crumbled around him. Blood coated his lips.
But something shifted.
A warm pulse flooded through him. The small cut he'd made—the damage he'd dealt—was healing him.
Kyren struggled to his feet. The monster approached, moving slower now, convinced Kyren was done. That was his mistake.
Kyren activated BlackLion's Mane, funneling all the absorbed mana into his arm. He hurled Lion's Requiem forward.
The blade pierced deep into the beast's shoulder.
Kyren flashed forward, gripping the hilt.
Mana surged.
BlackLion's Claws!
The blade sharpened, cutting clean through the man's shoulder as Kyren yanked it free.
Roaring in pain, the beast swung wildly. Kyren ducked. Finally, I can use it.
He activated BlackFang Step. His body moved instinctually, positioning him in the monster's blind spot.
He poured everything—all his mana—into Lion's Requiem.
One clean arc.
The blade sliced through the monster's neck.
The body hit the ground with a heavy thud. Kyren barely spared it a glance.
Lydel had three afterimages weaving around a group of men, striking them with the pummel of his blade. The last man dropped just as Kyren arrived.
They locked eyes. No words were needed.
They ran.
Neither stopped until they were a mile out of the village.
No one followed.
But the cult knew their faces now.