With an exasperated grunt, Rui pointed at the weapon in his hand. “See this? Sword, tentacle, chop.”
“Sword, tentacle, chop,” Yiran recited. He gave her a tentative smile. “It’ll be fine, right?”
Without waiting for an answer, he sprinted off into the dark.
Rui propped herself up on her good elbow, ignoring the pain pulsating through her body. When Yiran was out of sight, she grabbed a rock and threw it at the Revenant.
“Hey, asshole, I’m right here!”
The Revenant raised its head at the sound of her voice. Shambling closer, it made a sorrowful sound, almost as if it were crying. But Revenants didn’t have emotions... did they?
Something flitted behind it.
Yiran. He approached the creature with a natural predatory agility, like this was something he was born to do. He raised his arms. Rui held her breath. The blade of crimson light flashed.
A howl echoed through the night.
Flesh smoked as a deep cut emerged across the Revenant’s back. But Yiran’s strike had missed most of its tentacles. Helplessly, Rui watched as the Revenant lunged at him. He twisted just out of reach, but not before the Revenant hit his arm. His sword flew to the ground, landing a distance away.
Yiran sprang back and dropped to one knee, bracing himself with a hand.
It’s going to kill him.Rui had sent him to his death. What was she thinking?
But Yiran got up. He looked undaunted and more determined than before. He angled his body as if he were escaping to the right. The Revenant shifted in anticipation. Cutting left, Yiran slammed a shoulder into its body.
The Revenant smashed into the fence. Without wasting a second, Yiran ran and dove for the sword. But the crimson blade had vanished, and the sword looked like an ordinary sword, the metal dull and silver.
“It’s gone,” Yiran shouted to Rui.
“It’s not,” she said, keeping an eye on the Revenant. One of its tentacles was caught on the wires of the fence, but it was pulling itself free. “I don’t feel my spiritual energy returning, which means the spell’s still working.”
“I can’t—my grandfather tested me—”
Even from a distance, she could sense Yiran’s doubt. “The past doesn’t matter. The spell’s working. You have magic—use it.”
Yiran shook his head. “I can’t do this.”
“You just did it,” Rui insisted. The Revenant was pushing back on its deformed feet, snapping its head this way and that. But Yiran stood frozen, staring at the sword in his hands as if he were off in some faraway place. Rui dragged herself closer to him, pleading, “Trust me, you can do it.”
The Revenant was close. Closer.
Desperation shoved her. “Song Yiran—I believe in you, dammit!”
The sharpness in her voice snapped Yiran out of his daze. His eyes went to her for a moment, and she saw something flicker in them. Whatever it was, it gave her hope.
But as Yiran ran toward the Revenant, the blade of his sword stayed dull.
Heart in her throat, Rui whispered, “Channel your magic.Do it.”
Just as the Revenant’s tentacles grazed his arms, Yiran slid his hand down the blade.
Light flashed.
The Revenant screamed.
Something pungent and wine-colored sprayed through the air.
Yiran spun and sliced again. The Revenant’s tentacles flopped onto the ground with a wet sound. Lunging with a triumphant yell, he pushed his blade into the Revenant’s chest.
