’No matter... that isn’t anything new.’

Malik casually mimicked the slicing of his own throat.

"Then you know what happens to the slaves who fail the Order."

Wahum’s snake eyes flickered just for a moment, making Malik see doubt and fear in them.

The realization that maybe, just maybe, this wasn’t going to be as easy as he thought.

But then the doubt was gone, and Wahum laughed.

"We’ll see, Angel. We’ll see."

He raised his hand.

The cave grew darker, its light devoured.

Malik didn’t wait until any illusion took hold.

His hand shot out toward his unconscious people—Dunya, Kabir, Noor, and the rest of the unit.

Once brought together, the earth beneath them rumbled, and cocoons of packed soil rose up around each body, wrapping them in incredibly dense protective shells.

But he didn’t stop there.

With the same motion, he twisted his fingers, and a sword of compressed stone and earth formed in his right hand.

Heavier than steel but balanced perfectly.

Yes, he could use Ember’s Touch and be done with this invader, but he wanted to figure out what he was up against before using his full power.

There was no point in wasting his best cards early.

Besides, he wanted to be sure that his Ember’s Touch wouldn’t be wasted by something the bastard was saving up.

Wahum watched with obvious amusement.

"Protecting your little soldiers? Making toys? How touching."

Malik ignored him.

His people would be safe; that was all that mattered. Well, his life did as well, something that was currently being threatened by what cast a shadow over him.

’Oh. That’s a big one.’

A colossal blade, big enough to reach the cave’s ceiling, hung suspended above Malik.

Wahum was of illusions.

Yet despite this being a mere illusion, it looked so damned real.

It felt just as real, the weight of it pressing down on him, the edge gleaming with impossible sharpness.

Death was upon him.

The giant sword dropped, and Malik sprinted forward.

A burst of white fire shot from his left palm, and the recoil blasted him forward even faster.

He was using the fire like a thruster, skipping across the ground to dodge the giant sword.

It crashed into the rock behind him with the sound of a mountain exploding.

Shockwaves blasted through the cave, throwing large rocks like pebbles, quickly nearing Malik’s back.

Yet he didn’t stop or turn around, focusing entirely on Wahum.

The skeletal man was in front of him now, a hand raised in a lazy wave.

"Hello~."

Malik swung without a word.

His stone sword cut straight through Wahum’s head.

It popped like a bubble, only for another Wahum to step out behind Malik, still alive.

Malik charged again, even faster than before.

He wasn’t ’faster’ now because of technique or form. He was faster because he moved with zero regard for anything in his way or any injury he could incur, intent only on reaching Wahum.

And it worked.

His sword flicked upward, clipping Wahum’s chin exactly at the perfect angle.

Wahum staggered back, surprised that Malik’s sword actually touched him. But instead of anger, his snake eyes narrowed with curiosity.

"...are you playing with me~?"

Malik’s eyes remained cold.

"I don’t play games."

Wahum flickered out of existence, then back into existence behind Malik. But he didn’t continue to attack.

"Interesting. Very interesting."

He tilted his head, studying the Angel before him.

"You really are holding back, aren’t you?"

Malik twisted and swung again.

Wahum leaned back unnaturally far, easily avoiding it.

Then, like a spring, he snapped back, only to hit nothing but air.

Malik had already gotten out of his way, another fire burst pushing him sideways.

They stared at each other before stepping back.

"You really are interesting."

"And you talk too much."

Wahum smiled wider, but there was a much deeper wickedness in his eyes now.

"No, no. I mean it. You’re an Angel—supposedly. I believed it seconds ago. And yet..."

He gestured at Malik’s stone sword and at the weak fire bursts.

"Where are your other Runes? Your real power? You fight like a cripple."

Malik didn’t answer.

Wahum’s smile thinned.

"Ah. I see."

He laughed dryly.

"You’re not at your best, are you? The rumors were true. You returned weakened or at least barely recovered."

He took a step forward.

"Everyone called this mission suicidal! No matter the Holy Relics and traps, fighting an Angel was impossible~!"

His unhinged confidence had returned.

"How fortunate for me."

Malik took a stance without a word.

His stone sword had developed a small crack from that last exchange, though it didn’t remain.

"Speak as you like..."

He pushed a trickle of his Rukh into the blade, sealing the crack and reinforcing the edge.

"I’ve got enough to kill you."

That was a lie.

Without Ember’s Touch, there was no way he could possibly kill Wahum.

But of course, the white-haired bastard didn’t need to know that.

"We’ll see. Let’s test just how much that ’enough’ really is."

SNAP!

Reality bent as the cave walls fell apart into floating shapes. Cubes, triangles, and spirals, all drifting as if weightless.

The ground itself became transparent like glass, showing shooting stars far below.

Wahum swept his hand, and the world collapsed inward.

A wave of thin shards exploded from every direction, forming a storm of spinning mirrors. Each mirror reflected a slightly different version of Malik.

There were a thousand ’Maliks’ running in every direction.

The real Malik had no idea what was happening, and yet he wasn’t given a chance to think as a mirror Malik lunged at him.

He cut it down with his stone sword, shattering it, revealing three more illusions behind it, each swinging in the same sword style he used.

’What kind of nightmare is this? I may be handsome, but I still don’t want to see myself this much.’

Malik ducked one swing, kicked another in the gut, and stabbed the third in the foot.

All three burst into shards, reforming as Wahum’s laughing face before disappearing.

"You can’t keep this up forever, Sultan!"

Wahum’s voice echoed from everywhere.

"Your Rukh is fading. I can smell it."

Malik jumped onto a floating mirror, a quick fire burst boosting his jump; he sprinted up its surface like a ramp, and leapt over the next illusory wave.

At the same moment, Wahum twisted the entire world sideways.

Gravity slipped, and Malik flipped uncontrollably, head over heels.

It was a bad situation, but he was far from panic.

Malik simply stabbed his stone sword downward, allowing his body to pierce through the air to stabilize his fall. He also fired a fire blast from his palm to further correct his spin and increase his speed.

Many a mirror stood in his way, only for him to break through them one after another.

He fell straight toward Wahum like a human spear of fire.

THUMP.

Noticing a sudden shift, which he assumed to be a trap, Malik quickly stabbed his sword to the side, anchoring himself to a floating chunk of mirrored ground and halting his fall.

Below, he watched the space blink and many spikes appear.

Indeed, it was a trap.

A trap within a trap.