Rangers Endgame

YAKERU:

The guards moved with a swiftness that the others noticeably lacked, their blades gleaming with protective intent before he’d even drawn his sword. But even then, they were slower than the ranger who’d molded a body designed to be faster.

There was no need to call upon radiance. With a simple flick, the blade flashed outward like a silvery whip. Before they’d fully crossed the room, the artifact split in two. Violet light burst from both severed ends, embracing the room with a tingling coolness, then evaporated into a sparkling drizzle just as suddenly as it appeared.

The guards stilled, shock frozen on their features. Fuyumi was less affected; her face tightened into something that said, “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

The guard who'd led them there stood paralyzed with betrayal and uncertainty for the near future. “Do you realize what you've done?”

“I wouldn't have done so if I hadn't,” Yakeru answered casually, sliding his sword back to its sheath, then turning back to the swordsmen. “You’re not needed here anymore. The villagers take precedence now.”

The guards’ knuckles whitened at his audacity, but they didn't argue. Another roar jolted them to their senses, and they quickly abandoned their post to hurry down the corridor. Yakeru and Fuyumi tailed them, hoping they weren’t too late.

Boots hammered against rock as they sped down the rugged hall. The guards halted at a wall that wasn’t there before. Debris had collapsed in their path.

It didn’t deter the guards, however, as they produced cube-like artifacts from their pockets. As they strategically placed them in the rubble, Yakeru and Fuyumi went to watch their flank several paces away.

“Another horrible idea from you,” Fuyumi breathed from beside him. “Though I can't say I'm surprised.”

“Want to back out?”

“No,” she answered with a resolve he hadn’t quite heard from her before. “That bloodhound dies here.”

“Yes,” he agreed. “But we do it without the past standing in the way, yeah?”

She kept quiet, as if debating reason. But the sharp edge in her gaze told him her personal vendetta was winning out.

He touched her arm, giving it a light squeeze.

“Fuyumi,” he said with the softness of a friend rather than the flatness of a comrade. “You know these things better than anyone. We need that. But if you lose yourself—”

She visibly smothered some of her anger. “I know.”

She looked him in his eyes. For a moment, she didn’t speak. Just searched for something. When he was about to ask what, her words came first.

“In return, no more near-deaths from you. Deal?”

“A tall order,” he joked, trying to make light of the situation. “Given how many times—”

She cut him off with a gentle palm pressed to his mouth. Her eyes didn’t change, no underlying amusement at his jest. Only a steady gaze layered over the fear he’d seen her with after nearly watching death take him for the umpteenth time.

She hadn’t gotten used to it.

She never will.

When regretful understanding reached his expression, she let her hand fall, still waiting.

“Sorry, that was insensitive of me,” he apologized. “It's a deal.”

Something in her shoulders lifted—small, just enough to notice—and she nodded before turning back to the others.

The guards finished setting up and backed away, the artifacts beginning to bleed a golden hue. Sparks gnawed away at the debris, hissing and crackling, as they reduced the obstruction to a smoldering puddle.

“Let’s go,” the escort called out.

Even before reaching the room, the stench of copper hit like a wall. They sped up and slid inside, horrified at the sight.

Silence.

No cries. No struggle. Just the low flicker of lighting artifacts clinging by a thread.

And the bodies.

They lay in flecks of blood instead of pools as their very essence had been sucked dry. Mummified skin lay beneath their sheared armor. A few villagers dotted the scene.

A swordsman knelt over what looked like a woman, her sunken eyes open, face taut. He gently slid them closed and gnashed his teeth.

“What was the point?” he questioned, voice shaking with frustration. “What was the point of calling out to the guild?”

“You’re rangers,” another shot them a pained and furious look. “Monsters. That’s your job, so how did something like this happen?”

Yakeru and Fuyumi stayed silent. There wasn’t anything to say that would land.

Another sound echoed down the next corridor. Heavy. Measured.

They didn’t wait. They broke into a full sprint, faster this time, a faint shout of despair reverberating off the walls in the distance. Crimson gashes along the walls raced past them.

The air grew colder, the light guttering lower, as if something ahead was pulling the heat out of the world itself.

Then they saw it.

A broad form hunched over something materialized from the approaching chamber.

Its teeth crunched into something hard, like hitting bone. Its ear twitched at their arrival, and it stopped abruptly, beady eyes locking onto them when it glanced. The hound’s predatory gaze landed sharply on the guards behind Yakeru and Fuyumi, red-stained maw splitting into a starving grin. When its eyes went to the rangers, however, the grin wavered with resentful recognition.

It dropped the guard it was feasting on and turned fully, patting its abdomen to draw attention to the wound the two had given it, eyes piercing.

Yakeru filed away its petty response to a minor injury.

Risa, Takahiro, and Yuto stood between it and fleeing villagers, relieved to see Yakeru and Fuyumi.

“Risa,” Yakeru called out. “Take your party and get the remaining villagers to safety. Meet us topside afterwards.”

She nodded, and the three of them backed into the corridor once everyone else filed through.

Metal rattled behind him as the remaining guards let their nerves run rampant. Their eyes widened, and they breathed harder, but their swords remained at the ready.

“No,” Yakeru said, not caring about any amount of training they had. If rangers struggled to kill this mutt, these men would certainly become sustenance. “We’ll take care of this. Go with the others.”

The nearest guard hesitated. “You think you two can—”

“You don’t have time to argue.” His flat and certain tone stilled the protest.

Fuyumi moved to his side without a word.

The guards exchanged a look, frustration still burning, but survival and duty won out. They peeled off, retreating down the adjacent hall.

The bloodhound’s gaze didn’t follow them as their footsteps faded quickly.

The room seemed to grow larger in their absence.

The hound shifted.

Yakeru and Fuyumi drew their weapons, blades humming with the scraps of radiance in their reserves.

Behind the bloodhound, stairs led to the surface.

For a moment, nothing happened.

Then the ground convulsed.

The rangers moved first, just as the ground combusted into a wave of burning scarlet. Yakeru twisted mid-step, blade flashing out to slice through spikes before they fully formed.

“Don't meet it head-on,” he advised.

“On your left!” She warned.

Columns of flames clashed into one another to birth a raging serpent. He pivoted, allowing the conjuration to race past, the sweltering heat abrading his skin. It continued its course into the opposite wall, erupting into fire and collapsing the entrance through which they came.

Fuyumi circled around, never stopping. The hound didn't chase so much as reshape the battlefield—walls of blood slamming up to cut off movement, whirling pillars spearing in wild, unpredictable arcs. An impregnable defense met each of their attempts.

Cracks snaked across the ceiling, rocks dislodging and blocking another exit.

Sweat beaded Yakeru’s forehead. It wasn't the possibility of being trapped in a room with a monster that stirred his nerves. It was this specific monster. A fight against one of its caliber in an enclosed space meant death.

Fuyumi aimed for the beast’s thigh and plunged her daggers into a wall that wasn't there a moment ago. She leapt back as it burst into spikes, nicking her armor.

“Not enough,” she muttered, her Bloodhound's Fang dagger drawing in a thread of blood from the wall.

The creature recognized the opportunity and twisted its claws, conjuring a grotesque contortion of thorns that sped down the thread’s length.

Yakeru gave her a look.

She understood and lobbed it before the thorns reached the handle. He let the dagger tangle with his blade as he called upon Blitz Step, legs hot. Teeth grinding against the fresh pain, he catapulted across the chamber, traveling around the hound’s flank. The thread of thorns whipped in tow, catching on the back of the beast’s knees and tearing open flesh.

It stumbled forward. Fuyumi condensed radiance into her Armor Killer and released. The hound slashed at the air, flames consuming the beam, but she was already at its side. Her blade gleamed, driving into something that gave.

It howled.

She leapt back at Yakeru’s side. The stairs were just behind them now.

“Ready?” he asked, handing back her discarded dagger.

She didn’t hesitate. “With you.”

They turned and broke into a sprint.

The bloodhound followed.

Stone split in its wake, its power becoming more violent as it barreled down the narrow passageway after them. Rage distorted its already unsightly face, clawing wildly.

Scarlet ripped and chased, quaking the earth. Gone was its calm demeanor, replaced with a wrathful fury bent on their destruction. The air grew colder still as they climbed, the faint howl of wind scratching at the hatch door above.

The hound gained on them, sending a tendril speeding towards them.

Yakeru pulled Fuyumi by the waist, letting the streak of burning red scream past them, shearing the door’s hinges and punching straight through to the surface. His legs complained as he funneled radiance into them and leapt into the pouring light.

Wind immediately scooped them up, pelting their skin with snow that flew sideways. They landed, sliding across the ruined village. He took a knee, giving his body a breather.

The bloodhound burst from the entrance behind them, its mass slamming into the open air with a force that sent snow spiraling outward.

Fuyumi stood in front of her comrade, daggers out, eyeing the beast.

The hound rose to its full height, blood seething, a triumphant grin pressing against its rage. It approached, snow disintegrating against crackling blood.

Then, its nose twitched.

It stopped in its tracks.

Something blue drew its attention through the whipping white. Two icy points stared back at it.

It turned. Three more pairs. Four.

Fuyumi helped Yakeru to his feet. He was careful not to move more than his overused body could handle. A wall of piercing eyes materialized through the storm, caging in both parties.

“This is stupid,” she warned.

“That remains to be seen.” He drew his sword, eyeing the half-lidded bloodhound. “Let's see how it fares against its worst matchup.”