“You really scrambled this psycho, Kae.” She leaned into Fenn, pitching her voice just loud enough to be heard. “Let’s be done with it. I’ve got better uses for that tongue of yours than having it wag at a failed experiment.”
Skarn’s neck snapped toward her with a hiss. “I will suck the marrow from your bones!”
The hood fell back, and Rynna recoiled despite herself.
He had no hair—only the pale, patchy sheen of fleshy scales stretched over a too-thin skull. His jaw was all wrong, widened to hold those grotesque fangs.
“Ew.” Her nose scrunched as she peered over Kaelith’s shoulder. “Please tell me you didn’t look like that underneath all the tricks before I saved your ass.” She stuck her tongue out in an exaggerated gag, shuddering. “So gross.”
“He was not prepared for the Great Serpent’s venom.” Kaelith’s posture eased, almost casual again. “Another failure on my part. Choosing poorly.”
Skarn practically vibrated at the words, fists clenching and unclenching at his sides as the nearest dead dropped like stones, bodies falling in eerie silence.
Beside her, Fenn moved closer until his breath stirred her hair. “You sure it’s wise to rile up the weird little man-snake?”
Her mouth quirked. Fenn rarely went for taunting.
At once, Skarn’s hands found the end of his robe and ripped the fabric away, revealing the warped nightmare beneath. A serpent’s body coiled thick at his base, but from its sides jutted short, mismatched human legs, the flesh stretched and mottled as though something inside had tried to crawl free.
“The tick wanted all of you for itself.” Skarn’s green-lit eyes found Kaelith again, mock affection warping his face. “But you’ll be so much happier if I take you back. Won’t you,Master?”
Tick?
Rynna caught Fenn’s eye, a silent agreement passing between them as Kaelith’s chin dipped and his jaw loosened. The shadows in his gaze deepened, bleeding around bright purple vertical slits.
Rynna moved to his right, Fenn to his left, closing in like twin anchors at his flanks.
“Enough.” The word had barely left his mouth, before—
Gleaming black scales spilled across his skin as his body flowed forward, every motion a ripple—loose-limbed and fluid, but coiled with an unshakable precision. His feet barely kissed the scorched earth as if the ground itself bent for him.
Skarn’s eyes widened, then his arms lashed out, oily darkness spilling from his sides in long, writhing lengths. The void snapped at Kaelith, jerking Skarn front and back with each strike, the movement uneven. But Kaelith slipped through it all, his torso folding one way as his legs turned another, letting each black ribbon cut through the space his body had just abandoned.
Beside her, Fenn tensed, his weight shifting forward, fists curling in readiness.
“He needs to do this on his own,” Rynna said before he could move. “Besides.” Her tone dropped. “Skarn might still release the dead. Just watch.”
Kaelith bent left, just beyond the bite of another heavy tendril. The thing hit stone with a meaty crack, leaving spiderweb fractures racing out beneath the impact. Dust plumed. Kaelith ducked low, one arm trailing as though idly brushing the air, then his wrist jumped forward.
From the shadowed length of his sleeve, coils spilled, hissing as they struck. They twined around the thick base of Skarn’s tail, constricting tight enough to dent the pale scales, wrenching him sideways.
Muddy green flared in his eyes as his jaw split wide, spittle flying. He tore at the snakes, ripping through them in frantic jerks, limbs knotting in awkward jerks as his warped legs flailed for purchase.
Rynna’s heartbeat drummed against her ribs, her eyes locked on Kaelith. The shift in him was unmistakable—no more testing, no more teasing.
The air split with a hiss as blades, invisible but for the way flesh and scale peeled under their kiss, carved into Skarn. Each pass drew a fresh line of black across pale hide, until one swipe cut clean through the base of a leg. It dropped, twitching, into the grit. Another pass, another limb, each severance answered by Skarn’s ragged screech, his void whips flailing wider, wilder.
Kaelith’s satisfaction flooded through her core as the heat seeped low, until her pulse stuttered, falling into rhythm with his.
“Was he just testing us all those years, every time Fang Unit fought him?” Fenn murmured beside her. “I knew he was formidable, but…”
She didn’t answer; Kaelith was closing the circle now, each step narrowing the gap as the black tips of his claws lengthened into blades. Skarn’s strikes came slower, shadows clamping down where Kaelith no longer stood, until—
“You are not of the serpent bloodline, apprentice.” Kaelith’s words carried across the space. “You never were. You never will be.”
“I do not need to be of the blood.” Air hissed through Skarn’s teeth before a ragged laugh barked free. “My new god is beyond such limitations.”
Kaelith’s brow furrowed as the air flexed—sharp enough to make the fine hairs along Rynna’s arms lift.
