A giant bird was gliding over the lush forest, close enough for the rustling canopies below to be heard. The whistling gales rushing against its plumage did cover the sound somewhat, but they didn’t impede its movement all that much. If one paid close attention, they’d notice that the wind parted by itself before touching the creature’s strangely coloured feathers, aiding rather than hindering it in its flight.

Sitting on its back, surrounded by glowing lines of three different colours, was a tall, lean man. His long, unkempt dark hair was fluttering behind him, a few strands stuck to his face by the pressure. He didn’t seem to pay them any attention, however, his piercing gaze focused on the blueish-grey mana in his hands.

The ethereal strings held for a while, but eventually snapped when he pulled at them with enough force.

“Almost there,” he said as he scratched his scruffy beard, not letting his millionth failure dampen his mood.

This was naturally Percy, riding on his familiar as the two travelled across the continent, trying to lose any potential pursuers.

He’d already made a ton of progress with the mana threads, and he was confident they’d be finished in the next couple of weeks at the latest. He was currently mixing six variants of his reinforced mana, and he only had to fine-tune the substance a little more before he was satisfied with its properties. Of course, it wasn’t as easy to concentrate while airborne, but he knew he had to get used to working like this, as they’d be spending a lot of their time on the move for the foreseeable future.

It had been several days since they left the Valley, and they’d covered a lot of ground. The forest they were currently flying over wasn’t even the first one they’d encountered. Percy didn’t know its name, but he could tell they had reached the wildlands by the northern side of the continent.

Granted, they hadn’t travelled in a straight line – Percy had instructed Micky to vary his path every few hours, and to stay closer to the ground – to lower the odds of them being spotted. Their caution had served them well so far, though it appeared their luck had finally run out.

‘Percy.’ Micky suddenly said, opting to do so via their connection.

‘Yeah… I noticed them too.’ Percy replied, nodding grimly.

A few hundred metres to their left, two men were currently floating above the trees, slowly approaching them. One of them was sitting on an azure mat made of a squirming blob of water. The other required no aid to fly – the air itself holding him up. Percy didn’t even turn to look at them. His Mana Sense was more than enough for him to discern both their affinities and their grades.

‘Two Blues… You feeling good about it?’

‘I’ll do my best.’ Micky sent back.

Percy sighed, knowing there was no avoiding the fight. Not that Micky was too slow to escape – quite the opposite, in fact. Even before his recent advancements, the crow had managed to keep his distance from Acton for multiple days, let alone now.

But they couldn’t avoid fighting forever. Sooner or later, they’d get in a situation where fleeing wasn’t an option. They should probably take advantage of this opportunity to get some more practice fighting Blues. A couple of them would make for a reasonable challenge – neither too few, nor too many. It was exactly the kind of opposition they needed to grow.

Of course, Percy had already killed one, and he was confident his boosting art had placed his fighting strength solidly in that grade. Still, he wasn’t arrogant enough to think he could suddenly beat every Blue on Remior with ease. He’d certainly never fought in the air before, so he knew he’d be at a disadvantage against these people.

‘All the more reason to go through with it though…’

At least, Micky would be in his element.

In any case, their opponents seemed to realize they’d been spotted at some point, abandoning all caution. They approached them quickly, though they still paused some distance away, clearly not in a rush to engage.

Another thing Percy noticed, was that the Blues appeared strangely confident in their chances, not a hint of nervousness showing in their expressions. Obviously, it was true that they were strong enough to give him and Micky a tough fight, but they shouldn’t know that.

‘Did the Root not spread the fact that we’ve killed five Blues in total? Or did they never figure it out in the first place?’

Both possibilities held merit. From his perspective, the events inside the Valley had transpired over entire decades. From the outside, however, just over a year had passed. Perhaps, the Root’s higher ups had never realized how many of Acton’s guards had advanced by the time they died. It would have been a rather absurd assumption to make too, since it would imply Percy’s group was powerful enough to take an entire House on.

Or, maybe, they fully understood what had happened, and they’d just chosen to keep the information to themselves. After all, they clearly wanted other Houses to help them hunt Percy down – if only to put more pressure on him and force him to stay on the move. Telling the whole world that their target was nearly as strong as a Violet would have deterred over 90% of the noble Houses from sending their Blues to their death.

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘Well, it doesn’t matter. They might not know the full truth, but Elaine is no longer with us, so it works out the same…’

Standing up on Micky’s back, he faced the two mages. Judging from the occasional strand of grey hair on their heads, he could tell they were probably Orange-borns, having lived for centuries to reach their current grade. They didn’t look old per se, just middle-aged.

‘Definitely more experienced than Acton or Femel though…’

Pushing the Carnival to its limits, he felt his muscles swell with strength, his skin reddening and even tearing in a couple of spots. The grey wisps danced erratically around him, leaving burning trails in their wake as their shrill cries filled the air. Percy had grown a lot better at handling the spell over the past couple of months, but he’d still prefer to finish the fight quickly if possible.

Two powerful domains suddenly descended upon him and Micky, causing them both to shudder. The pressure was immense, especially when stacked like this, but they could still move, which elicited some surprise from their opponents.

“It appears the rumours are true. I suppose it’s only to be expected, considering that it’s the Root spreading them… Still, I admit I was a little sceptical at first,” the water mage said.

His voice wasn’t very loud, and the two sides were separated by over a hundred metres, but everyone here had enhanced hearing – enough to communicate without issue.

The second man nodded.

“When our patriarch told us Femel was slain by a Yellow, I thought he had lost his mind. I guess I only have my own lack of imagination to blame. Who would have thought such a freak would appear on our world?”

Listening to their words, Percy couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow.

‘Femel? Is that what they’re focusing on?’

Granted, the deceased young man had been a Holy Child, so it wasn’t surprising that his death would anger the noble Houses. However, Percy still found their choice of words rather odd. They hadn’t even mentioned Acton or any of his other crimes, despite the fact that Percy’s grudge had initially started with him…

Thinking of something, he scanned their clothes, paying closer attention to their insignias. They weren’t as flashy as those of some other Houses – they merely depicted a pair of hands held together. Percy had never learned Femel’s surname, since the Green-born had been dressed in the Order’s colours by the time Elaine killed him, but the symbolism seemed to fit with his bloodline.

“Was he from your House?” he asked.

“Afraid so. We don’t much care about your other issues with the Order – at least not enough to send two Blues after you. But our patriarch will never forgive you for killing his youngest son – the pride of our family.”

Percy sighed.

“I don’t suppose you’ll tell me how you found us so quickly?” he asked back.

He’d definitely raised some commotion while leaving Kronos’s Decree, but he didn’t think enough time had passed for people to not only piece the situation together, but to also spread the news about him across Remior, deploy a bunch of Blues after him, and even catch up to him this far out. Something else was clearly at play.

“Why would we tell you that?” the water mage asked with a frown.

“How about we make a deal?” Percy replied with a question of his own.

Next, he took out a folded piece of paper from his spatial seal that he’d prepared beforehand, tossing it at them. The fragile object would have never made it across by itself, but the air mage grabbed hold of it with his mana, having a gentle breeze carry it to his hand. Opening it, his eyes widened as he read its contents.

Curiously, the water mage’s expression also lit up in surprise just a moment later, despite the fact that he was too far to read the note, and that his friend hadn’t uttered a word. He hid his shock quickly enough, but Percy hadn’t missed it.

‘Telepathic communication? They must have the same bloodline as Femel…’

It would be troublesome. They were from the same family too, and they’d probably fought countless battles together. Considering how crude his teamwork with Micky was, by comparison, their best bet would be to separate them.

“Why are you giving us this?” the air mage suddenly asked, oblivious to his thoughts.

What Percy had written down was the secret of the Aurora Dew, and instructions for mastering the Dance. Of course, he’d only given them half of the information for either topic, the rest hidden in one of his spatial amulets.

“Tell me what I want to know, and you can loot the rest of the information from my corpse. Or I can just destroy it before we even fight.”

“You’re lying. Why would you give us something so important?” the water mage asked.

Percy shrugged.

“It won’t be of any use to me if I die – though I’m not planning to. I’d never intended to take this information to my grave. I’d always wanted to spread it to the rest of Remior at some point, after giving myself a head start. If you beat me, I’d actually prefer that this knowledge lives on with you. If you don’t… Well… I suppose I’ll get to keep my secrets for a while longer.”

What he’d left unsaid, was that he wasn’t the only one aware of this information. Elaine, Nesha, Galahad, Archibald and Orin all knew much of this too, so these discoveries wouldn’t really be lost if he died. However, Percy didn’t want his friends and family to end up in the same position as him. Surrendering his secrets was his way of protecting them – at least the ones who hadn’t been captured already.

“I see…” the water mage said, seemingly appraising Percy once more, his eyes looking at him in a new light. “Perhaps, the rumours aren’t quite right about you, after all. You seem more sensible than they give you credit for.”

He sighed, exchanging a glance with the other Blue, the air mage nodding back.

“We didn’t track you. We tracked him,” he said, pointing at Micky with his chin. “Our patriarch used his Secret Art to place a mark on Femel’s body. It allows anyone with our bloodline to find him – dead or alive. Since we didn’t find any trace of him inside the Valley, it wasn’t hard to guess you’d fed him to the crow.”

Percy grimaced upon hearing that, not happy about this at all. Though he calmed himself down the very next moment. He didn’t know how many Blues their House possessed, but deploying even one shouldn’t have been easy, let alone two. Once they died, their patriarch would have to think twice before sending another.

“How long does the mark last?” he asked, trying his luck, though he didn’t really expect an answer.

Sure enough, the air mage shook his head.

“That wasn’t part of our deal.”

Percy shrugged, summoning a pair of scythes to his hands. There was no point worrying about the mark anyway. Not before they made it through this fight.

Jumping off Micky, he allowed the grey wisps to ignite his weapons. Each of the Harvesters broke into a dozen pieces, multiplying rapidly as the ambient mana flooded their enchantments. Mere seconds later, a storm of crescent blades spun around Percy, a couple of scythes soon crossing their shafts beneath his feet to arrest his fall.

The Blues followed suit, unleashing their apocalyptic spells upon him and Micky, torrents of water and wind covering the aerial battlefield. The crow pushed his boosting art to its limits too, as the four combatants prepared for battle.

They all understood that half of them – at best – wouldn’t live to fight another…