The fireballs crashed in front of him, their flames spilling over him. He raised Sylver to try to block some of the heat, but his leather armor smoked and blistered regardless.

  Cedric retreated further, heaving for breath and smoke pouring from his form. The device tucked under his arm shuddered, the magic within the orb’s glass exterior thrashing about. Its steel was hot against his skin, threatening to crack the glass and unleash the inferno within.

  Cedric had to be careful. He glanced down at his lifespan. He’d spent several months already, and he wasn’t yet deep enough into their ranks to set the explosion off.

  Then again, at this rate, he might not have a choice as to when the device went off.

  Not until he dealt with the two mages.

  The mages advanced, each readying another attack. They marched forward, shoving their way past the frozen soldiers. The heavy steel harnesses clamping their robes to their torsos glowed white.

  Those harnesses, Cedric thought. They must be what’s allowing them to keep up with me. He gripped Sylver tightly.

  “Uh,” the blade quipped. “As much as I love a good battle, I really think we should—”

  “Hush,” Cedric said sharply. “We’re doing this. We’re going to end the mages, then the rest of this blasted army.”

  “Yes, destroy the army.” Sylver spoke rapidly. “My thoughts exactly. Totally what I was thinking.”

  The mages might’ve been able to keep up with him, but that didn’t make them his equal. They might command the power of fire and they were sped up to match Cedric, true.

  But Cedric commanded time itself. He was the one in control here.

  Cedric dashed for the mages to his right first. The mages set off their fireballs, aiming for him, but Cedric called on Time Bend again, rapidly accelerating himself, shattering through two hundred percent. He dashed past the fireball, leaving it to crash behind him, nothing more than a warm tickle at his back.

  The mages stared at him, eyes wide. They were sped up too, as Cedric sped himself up, but they weren’t accustomed to it. The mages shifted awkwardly, their brows furrowed and heads dizzy from the speed-up.

  Cedric barreled toward the mage, weaving from side to side to throw off his aim. He raised his hands to call on his magic, but Cedric called on Time Bend first, pushing even further beyond.

  +205%

  +206%

  +207%

  Blood dripped from Cedric’s nose, but he kept on going. The mage sent his fireball where Cedric had been, missing.

  Before he could ready another, Cedric parted the mage’s head from his neck. Parted from his harnessed torso, the head hung in the air, losing the speed-up. His eyes were wide and lifeless, his mouth open.

  Sylver whistled, impressed. A menacing laugh began to bubble up from the blade. The bloody film over the blade’s steel shivered, then seeped into Sylver—as though he were drinking it.

  The other mage blasted a pair of hasty fireballs at Cedric, alarmed at his comrade’s death. Cedric dove to the right, avoiding them both. The fireballs hit the soldiers behind Cedric, blanketing over their forms before being frozen by Cedric’s magic.

  The mage gritted his teeth. Fire welled in his hands.

  Cedric broke into a sprint, zigzagging, lowering and raising the effect of Time Bend on himself as he ran. He was impossible to track, even though the mage was sped-up too.

  Fireball after fireball whooshed by, hitting soldiers or dirt—futile as Cedric charged the mage.

  And with another swift strike, Cedric drove Sylver into the man’s belly, just below his steel harness. Life bled from the man, gushing over Sylver and Cedric’s fist. Cedric threw him to the ground with a thud.

  He took a breath and hurried deeper into the Empire’s ranks. He had to keep going and get as deep into their ranks as possible, despite his lifespan trickling by.

  The fate of Aevelia depended on it.

  [Remaining lifespan: 27 years, 11 months, 9 days, 2 hours, 6 minutes, and 50 seconds. ]

  As he rushed forward, however, another figure stepped into his path, also wearing the same steel harness as the mages.

  Veyn.

  He stared at Cedric with a cocky grin on his twisted maw. He bore a new scar on his face, a nasty patch of withered flesh. A punishment for his failure, undoubtedly. His eyes widened when he noticed the device tucked under Cedric’s arm, however.

  “I can’t say I expected much from that fool…” Veyn mused.

  “You didn’t expect too much from me either,” Cedric said. “And yet, here we are.”

  “Oh, I’ve never underestimated Cedric Blackfell.” Veyn raised a hand. His magic crackled over his palm. “But here, you meet your end.”

  “One of us does.”

  They exchanged a glare, their eyes narrowed. Each of them had their magics at the ready, poised to kill the other.

  Cedric rushed at Veyn, Sylver in his hand. Veyn whipped his hand down, sending a tear of magic through the air.

  Cedric slipped to the side, shoving himself with a few extra percentage points from Time Bend. Veyn’s magic hissed as it hit the dirt.

  With a growl Veyn sent another at Cedric. Again, Cedric pushed himself up a gear, forcing his speed-up to new heights.

  +208%

  +209%

  +210%

  Tear after tear, Veyn’s magic missed its mark. Cedric weaved past them, leaped over them, slid beneath them.

  But when he finally got to Veyn, he didn’t strike. Instead, clutched the device, and, with great effort, flung it toward the center of the army. As the device left his grip, Cedric stopped Time Bend.

  The clatter of battle hit him immediately—steel on steel, wood shattering, the arc-elephants ramming into the wall. His stomach lurched as he returned to the normal flow of time, like diving into a rushing river. The orb sailed overhead, drawing Veyn’s wide eyes.

  Cedric gripped the orb with Time Bend, slowing it. The orb hung suspended in the air.

  [Remaining lifespan: 27 years, 4 months, 19 days, 22 hours, 46 minutes, and 2 seconds. ]

  Veyn spun, his eyes landing on Cedric.

  Cedric met his glare with a smirk.

  He called on Time Echo. In a flash, he was sent back where he’d been before he’d encountered the mages. Men jumped at his sudden appearance, startled.

  Cedric turned his attention upward, back to Aevelia’s wall.

  “Walt!” he yelled. “Do it!”

  “Ced, you’re too close. You’ll get caught up in—”

  “Just shoot!” Cedric yelled. “Now!”

  Walt nodded, aimed, and loosed his bolt with a loud thwap.

  Alwyn ordered the archers to duck behind cover and brace for impact.

  The Empire’s men surrounded Cedric, turning their attention to him. Their blades waved at him.

  They never had the chance to strike.

  Walt’s bolt hit the orb dead-on. A sharp crack cut through the noise of the battlefield, which was quickly drowned by a heart-stopping boom.

  The ground shuddered like an earthquake. The cloud-coated sky was eclipsed by a great explosion of white light. Fire gushed from the orb in all directions, consuming men in mere moments, reducing them to ash.

  And the fire barreled toward Cedric.

  Instinctively, he reached for Time Bend to speed himself up, but he hesitated. If he did that, Veyn’s harness would speed him up too and allow him to escape the blast, perhaps even the battle entirely.

  Cedric couldn’t let that happen.

  Walt and Myra leaned over the spiked tips of the wall, their hands extended, offering Cedric a hand up. But even if he could get to the wall in time, they didn’t have time to pull him up. If he tried that, they’d all three be burned up by the blast.

  Cedric had another idea. A risky one, but one that wouldn’t put his friends’ lives in danger.

  “Get to cover,” Cedric called to Walt and Myra, his voice barely carrying over the deafening gush of the explosion. “Hurry!”

  They opened their mouths to object, but Cedric turned back to face the blast. The oncoming tide vaporized men in puffs of silvery dust. White fire curled like a turbulent, stormy sea, thrashing and clawing at itself and everything around it in a fiery blaze.

  “H-Hey, no,” Sylver cried. “Throw me up there, at least.”

  “I’ve got a plan,” Cedric said firmly, shoving Sylver back into his sheath.

  “Oh, oh, that’s a relief then,” Sylver snapped. “That explosion was your fucking plan! How is another plan of yours going to keep me safe?”

  Cedric huffed. “Be quiet and watch. Trust me.”

  “Trust you…” Sylver grumbled. “I’d sooner trust a dog with my lunch…”

  Cedric reached into his pocket, withdrawing his Magus seal. When he’d seen the palace burning, the greatwood and stone were vaporized, but the ancient steel remained intact, albeit glowing with heat.

  Ancient steel could survive the blast.

  And with his Magus seal’s help, Cedric and Sylver could too.

  Cedric shut his eyes, sharpening his focus as he had in his room. The gush of the explosion filled his ears. Its light battered his eyelids, burning away the darkness.

  Cedric tuned it out, steadying his thundering heart. He focused on his mind, turning Time Bend on his own mind as he had in his room before the battle.

  And as the heat of the explosion neared, sweat dripping from his face, he willed his mind forward in time, like he had before.

  The fiery light against his eyelids was replaced instantly. A torrent of images flooded him, images he didn’t recognize.

  An army in black armor, standing before a great, blood-red sky, marching on a strange-looking castle. A dark figure at their head, his hands raised at the castle. He turned his hands, and the castle grayed, chunks of it breaking off into dust.

  Is that… time magic?

  As he watched, Cedric felt the relieving, cool embrace of steel unfolding over his flesh. His seal clinked, unfolding over him. His torso, limbs, and face were blanketed in a sheet of ancient steel, his mind drifting off elsewhere.

  But as soon as the wave of magic fire hit him, the screams of the Empire’s men ringing in his ears, Cedric’s mind snapped back. His Magus seal held firm, the armor covering his entire form, Sylver included.

  Magical heat lashed against him, threatening to send him flying backward. He dug his heels in, gritting his teeth against the bite of heat leaking through his armor’s protection.

  Behind him, the wood that comprised Aevelia’s wall was incinerated. But, thankfully, convincing Gruldon to help paid dividends. The ancient steel reinforcements held firm, even seeming to absorb some of the magical fire pouring over it.

  The archers and guards—Walt and Myra included—huddled behind the safety of the ancient steel barrier, white light pouring over the top of the wall.

  And just as quickly as it unfolded, the explosion tapered off.

  The heat bombarding Cedric’s armor, singing his flesh beneath, weakened. The deafening roar of the fire became a steady, whimpering hiss. The smell of the destruction crept in. Burnt wood, blood, the sickening smell of blackened flesh.

  Cedric opened his eyes a crack.

  The battlefield was littered with mounds of melted corpses, glittering with silvery flecks in the air. The Empire’s men formed sickly pimples of flesh and black armor. The arc-elephants, who were furthest from the blast, lay slumped over against Aevelia’s wall huffing hot breaths, still clinging to life thanks to their thick, nigh-impenetrable hides.

  The rest of the Empire’s force was beyond decimated. Not a soul stirred on the blackened dirt.

  No one but Cedric, who pushed himself up onto his feet. His armor hissed. The adaptive ancient steel glowed a bright orange, but was quickly cooling itself, unfolding where it could.

  “Well,” Sylver hummed, “that certainly was a plan.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?” Cedric smiled.

  Arcaeus poked his head over the wall, his eyes barely clearing the barrier of faintly glowing ancient steel. He scanned the battlefield. When his eyes settled on Cedric, they widened—part amazement, part relief.

  “He’s alright,” Arcaeus called back. “Cedric survived the blast.”

  An audible wave of relief and mild exhilaration rose swept through the guards huddling behind the wall.

  But their celebration was premature.

  One of the mounds of fallen soldiers shifted. Cedric tensed, his brow furrowed as he looked for the source.

  And when a grunt sounded, he found it. A figure threw the fallen men off to the side, their forms melted together. The figure rocked onto his feet, far from unscathed, but alive.

  Cedric’s eyes widened.

  Veyn.

  Veyn had survived the blast. By the look of it, he’d used his own men to shield himself. But he hadn’t escaped the blast’s wrath.

  Half his body was burnt limp, his left arm hanging lifelessly at his side. His once-scarred, mangled visage was far prettier than the horrifying sight now facing Cedric: the left half of his face was melted clean off, his teeth exposed and flesh charred everywhere else. His harness, which was made of ancient steel, remained intact, however.

  Veyn stumbled forward, his right arm raised feebly toward Cedric. “I cannot… fail. He will not… tolerate…” A groan of pain escaped his clenched teeth.

  Cedric’s Magus seal retreated his armor, folding it back into itself. After a few moments, the armor had completely folded back into his seal. The small metal shield dropped from his chest, and Cedric swiped it from the air, pocketing it.

  But Cedric didn’t need his armor to finish what the explosion had started.

  Cedric stepped forward, drawing Sylver from his sheath. He stepped over the mounds of soldiers, his feet warmed by the lingering heat of the battlefield. Sweat dripped from his brow, but compared to the heat he’d just experienced, the battlefield was practically wintery.

  Veyn’s open hand swayed. Magic flitted between his fingers as he tried to channel his magic. His magic, however, refused the call of his destroyed body, providing him only a fraction of his former power.

  Cedric marched up to him.

  Veyn glared at him, hatred burning in his one remaining eye. He opened his mouth to spit another threat at Cedric.

  With a decisive stab, Cedric plunged Sylver into Veyn’s heart. His chest offered almost no resistance, his flesh and bones practically folding away with just the breeze. His open, slack jaw twitched with the last shadows of life, but before long, he slumped over onto Cedric’s blade, lifeless.

  The fight was over, for now.

  But the Empire would strike again. So long as the Emperor lived, Aevelia was at risk.

  And if the Emperor did indeed have time magic as Cedric had witnessed during his vision, they’d need a lot more to keep the kingdom safe.

  Chapter 17

  The ancient steel parted for Cedric.

  Gruldon—with the help of Walt, Myra, and Arcaeus—peeled the ancient steel back, just enough to allow a weathered, exhausted Cedric back into Aevelia.

  As Cedric stumbled through, he was greeted with the boisterous cheers of Aevelia’s loyal men. Guards pumped their fists into the air, cheering Cedric’s name in a deafening chorus.

  Alwyn slapped his hand on Cedric’s shoulder, offering a stern nod of a job well done. Cedric, in turn, offered the same nod to the men around him.

  But Aevelia hadn’t come out unscathed, he noted.

  Walt and Myra stepped up to Cedric.

  “That was incredible,” Walt gushed. “You were a blur. I mean, you were a blur last time too, but this time…” He shook his head, smiling. “You were incredible.”

  “How’d you survive that blast?” Myra asked, quirking her brow. “We barely survived behind the wall.”

  Cedric dug into his pocket and withdrew his Magus seal. “I don’t know why, but when I use my time magic on my own mind and send it forward, this activates.”

  “The armor…” Arcaeus pursed his lips.

  Cedric nodded. “I tried it for the first time in my room, when you guys came to alert me about the attack.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t sure it was going to work against the blast, if I’m honest…”

  Walt furrowed his brow. “You… weren’t sure?” He snatched the Magus seal from Cedric’s hand. “You gambled your life on this little thing?”

  Myra narrowed her eyes at the seal. “Yeah, I’m with Walt on this one. That sounds insane.”

  Cedric gestured to himself. “And yet, here I stand, unscathed—”

  Arcaeus stepped up. He poked Cedric’s hand and narrowed his eyes.

  Cedric winced and pulled it back, shaking his hand.

  “Mostly unscathed,” Cedric corrected.

  “Ahem,” Sylver hummed. “You risked both of our lives on it. And I’m far from unscathed…”

  “What’re you talking about?” Cedric quirked a brow. “You’re fine.”

  “Physically, perhaps.” The blade let out a long sigh. “But mentally, I’ll take years to recover. All that blood, the death… all that warm, fresh blood…” He sounded a little too excited about the blood. “You better set me down somewhere nice and quiet for a while… with lots of blood, so I can recover…”

  Cedric gave him a flat look. “Still a coward, eh?”

  Myra quirked her brow and folded her arms. “A bloodthirsty one, it seems…”

  Sylver grumbled something. “N-No. I’m just… wounded.”

  Myra shrugged and sighed. “Honestly, I think we all need a break. Pearl’s?”

  Walt brightened. “We haven’t been to Pearl’s tavern in years.”

  “And I wish we could take a break,” Cedric said. “But this fight isn’t over. The Emperor is still alive. He won’t stop coming for us—for Aevelia.”

  “I agree,” Alwyn said, approaching the group. “There’s too much still left to do.”

  Alwyn gestured to the area just beyond the northern wall. Magical fire had spilled over the wall and leapt over to the buildings, reaching a few streets into Aevelia. Acrid, black smoke trailed from the roofs, adding to the heavy gray of the storm clouds overhead.

 

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