I arc across the sky like a catapult shot, swinging from cloud to cloud while moving East. Fortunately, there are enough clouds in the sky to carry me towards my destination. That’s one of the only natural weaknesses of my lightning—without clouds, I can’t stay midair.

  So, in reality, I’ve chosen a good moment to do this.

  Right?

  Right. Stop being so indecisive. You’ve made the choice—now stick with it. Forget everything else. The only objective is to kill Masaru and the witch. You can’t allow her to continue on like this. Otherwise, who's to say that in her next chimera, Dandy isn’t the one screaming my name?

  Just end it here and now.

  From my height, I can already spot the edge of the Blightbriars. Beyond the black thicket, the enemy army will come. I just have to move.

  Faster.

  I cut my time by taking a longer arc and breaking through the clouds. I land on a long strip of puffy cumulus and skip across it with lightning speed. The sun harrows my vision so I put a hand to cover half my face.

  It’s a miracle that I feel a shift in the air. An even greater blessing is that just before I blink, I catch a flash of green below the semi-transparent cloud.

  I only have time to jump out of the way.

  A cutting pain slices across my leg, spraying fresh blood. I fall through the cloud, twisting through the sky, trying to face up to see what in the hells just hit me.

  BOOOMMMM!!!

  Like a war drum, it announces its presence.

  Then, with electric fury, it strikes down. Slashing through the sky like an angel’s blade, the green lightning infused… thing, comes cascading towards me.

  I cross my arms together and pour lightning in them to block.

  Doesn’t matter.

  The object slams into my arms, throttles me down. I get a better look at it. Some silvery thing. Its green lightning struggles against my red, trying to pierce my defense and strike through me.

  And it's winning?

  Slowly but surely, the object wobbles with sparkling energy as it touches my arm. A welt of blood forms. And the pointed end of the stick sinks deeper, and deeper, and…

  I roar out in pain and pump lightning through the wound. The stick flings out of my arm, spinning across the sky.

  Unfortunately, I don’t have time to celebrate.

  My back comes crashing through a maze of leaves and thorn-spiked branches. I bite my tongue as I go spinning, shins bleeding and ribs breaking against another few trees before the ground reaches me.

  Thankfully, the forest breaks my fall. So I don’t feel as though every bone in my body is shattered. Just a few.

  I dig my fingers into the earth and raise myself up. My movements are groggy and lethargic. My head pounds. Vision blurs. Tongue bleeds.

  I wipe the blood from my nose. Spit.

  Six minutes. That’s all I got left.

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  Still enough time. Keep…moving.

  I concentrate lightning into my fist and bang it against my chest. The shock of that wakes me up.

  I stand.

  Infuse lightning into my legs once more.

  And then… a sound like screeching djinns blasts my ears. The air vibrates with energy. Resisting the urge to freeze, I leap forward, trying my best to breach the canopy. Too late. Something cracks against the trees before quaking against the ground, sending a wave of force against me. I go flying sideways, crashing once more against the trees.

  The briars themselves bend against the blow.

  The force holds me there for a brief moment, stretches my skin back. Then, it stops. And I fall to the ground. This time I’m able to catch myself and jump back to my feet.

  The silver stick that assaulted me earlier now protrudes from the center of a deep, earth-riven crater that expands out wide.

  It crackles with energy.

  And, like Baroth’s antlers, it begins to grow. Except, rather than follow me with its growth, the stick simply transforms laterally. It forms what looks to be a small spear.

  Is this the thing that’s killed all Catolican air support? This sentient spear?

  Well, whatever it is…

  It's in my way.

  I flick two small bolts the spear’s way. They strike it—send it careening into the sky. Then, I leap into the air once more, lassoing the clouds as quickly as I can.

  Screeching returns.

  I grit my teeth. Turn, send another bolt its way. Once more it goes flying. But this time, I see that it stops mid-flight—adjusts its aim—booms across the sky once more, roaring against the horizon. And the spear grows ever larger, hounding after me.

  Fighting Baroth was a game of cat and mouse. The witch was a matter of cognitive supremacy.

  This is different. It's a race and a hunt, all at once.

  And the worst part about it all is that the spear is faster than me. So, I’m forced to constantly turn mid-arc and waste precious energy throwing concentrated javelin bolts of lightning its way.

  But, it keeps.

  Coming.

  Back.

  After it catches up to me for the seventh time, I pull at my hair and make a decision. Rather than swinging from cloud to cloud, I once more breach into the upper plains to land atop the wisps.

  “Fine! You want to fight so bad?” I ask. Of course its only answer is that same ear-piercing sound that rips through Katal itself.

  I extend my hand and summon forth a bolt that takes no particular shape. Instead, it surges on as a rod of energy that I swing back, setting my feet firmly into the cloud’s folds, lightning keeping me steady.

  The spear, now the size of a true warrior’s weapon, zooms towards me. Green sparkles echo along its path throughout the sky.

  I take a deep breath.

  And swing.

  My lightning rod clashes against the spear. But, instead of flinging it to another continent like I hoped, the spear pushes against me. I feel a jittering impact from the swing travel up my arms. But I persist. Because, as relentless as thing is…

  I’m worse.

  And I will have my vengeance.

  Screaming out as I push, I pour as much lightning as I dare to waste into the rod before finally finishing the swing.

  The spear flings away… about four feet.

  But as it begins to adjust and take aim once more…

  I throw that charged lightning directly at its center.

  This time, I get the reaction I wanted.

  The spear goes flying, disappearing into the pinkish hues of sunlight on the horizon.

  I don’t take time to admire my work. Rather, I get back to swinging with a vengeance. Four minutes left if I’m being hopeful.

  Three if I’m being honest.

  It’ll be enough. It has to be. After all, I only need one shot.

  An image of Dandy and Erot’s farm comes to mind. Then, my mother combing through my rich mass of black hair. She was stolen from me. I won’t let Dandy be stolen from Erot.

  It has to end. Has to.

  Lightning surges. Time marches on.

  And, finally, I bear witness to the enemy.