Blood of the Scorpion

As the golden radiance faded from the snowy hilltop and normal light returned to the surroundings, onlookers tentatively opened their eyes, directing their gaze to where Grayson had been. The snow had been blasted away, revealing Grayson kneeling on the bare, brown earth.

His clothes were tattered, reduced to mere fragments by the holy shockwave, and his wide-brimmed blue hat was gone. His chestnut hair was disheveled, spilling over his bare shoulders. A fierce wolf tattoo peeked out from the torn fabric of his shirt.

"Grayson..." Seraphine couldn't help but call out at the sight.

Slowly, Grayson raised his head, his curled body straightening. His sleeves were destroyed, exposing arms veined and brawny, each bearing the inked image of a savage wolf's claw.

As Grayson removed his hand from his chest, the crowd noticed the battered hat that had been pressed there. He lifted his gaze coldly towards Andros, took off the hat, and revealed the unharmed little owl nestled inside. Handing the hat to Katheren, he discarded the cigar butt from his mouth, saying, "Take good care of Elyra for me."

Quick to act, Katheren stepped forward to take the hat, clutching it tightly against her. But Grayson had already lunged at Andros like an arrow released from its bow.

The knight commander, sensing the ferocity of the attack, braced himself with his spear in a defensive posture. Grayson's silver sword clashed against the golden spear shaft, sparks flying, their clashing sounds ringing in their ears.

Locked in the struggle, Andros felt his opponent's strength intensifying. He was shocked to see a bright light radiating from Grayson's eyes, as if a powerful force was pouring out from within him.

Suddenly, with one hand on his sword, Grayson overpowered the spear controlled by Andros's two hands. He then reached beyond the spear, clamping down on the neck guard of Andros's breastplate with his free hand.

The sound of "crackling" followed as the sturdy metal neck guard began to deform under Grayson's grip. Andros, sensing trouble, kicked Grayson away, freeing his neck from the iron grasp.

As they parted, Grayson's fingers grazed across Andros's breastplate, leaving behind five finger-width gashes amid the sound of splintering metal.

"What? Impossible!" Andros gazed down in shock at the long gashes on his chestplate, never having seen anyone tear apart a knight's armor with bare hands, especially when it was imbued with holy magic to strengthen it.

"While you may have the church's armor and magical power," Grayson, stepping back from Andros, spoke with a brooding tone, "it does not mean you can withstand everything. This world has never known anything that is invincible."

"You devil!" Andros stared at Grayson, both shocked and enraged. Grayson responded with a sinister grin, nodding, "You're right. There's but a thin line between a demon hunter and a demon, but isn't that true for others as well?"

"Then let me see if you've already fallen into the path of the devil!" Andros's voice, resolute and forceful, echoed from within his helmet as he charged at Grayson with his spear.

Instead of retreating, Grayson advanced, his sword meeting the knight commander's golden spear. Just as the two weapons were about to collide, a gleaming scimitar intervened between them.

"Enough, stop fighting!" Morven stepped in, forcing the weapons apart with his scimitar pressed firmly against them. The sound of clashing steel filled the ears of the three men as they glared at each other, fiery determination in their eyes.

"You both need to cool down. This isn't the time for infighting! Finding the relic is what matters!" Morven, straining to separate the weapons, pleaded with Andros and Grayson, pushing them apart as he reasoned.

"To me, apprehending a fugitive is just as crucial as the search for the relic!"

Andros pointed his spear at Grayson, who deflected it with his sword, countering with a cold laugh, "You're right. The church always works both ways, an angel by day, a devil by night."

"Any who slander the church must pay the price!" Andros lunged forward, his spear aimed straight at Grayson's chest, but Morven quickly grabbed the spear shaft, the spearhead shooting forward instead.

Grayson sidestepped the whistling spearhead, his sword aimed for the torn opening in Andros's breastplate, but Morven pressed down the blade with his scimitar before it could strike.

In the midst of their deadlock, Duglas, the deputy commander, suddenly lunged in from the side with his spear aimed at Grayson's back.

Katheren screamed in alarm, but Grayson, having seen the attack from the corner of his eye, quickly ducked, grabbed the approaching spear shaft, and yanked Duglas toward him. His silver sword thrust toward the deputy's abdomen as he stumbled forward, facing the gleaming edge of Grayson's weapon.

Andros hastily extended his spear to block Grayson's sword, but Morven also stepped forward, pushing Grayson away, causing Andros's spear to accidentally stab Morven in the side.

Morven grunted, his body swaying before stumbling back a couple of steps, then pushed Grayson away.

"Brother, are you alright?" Grayson rushed to support Morven. Andros, realizing he'd wounded Morven, moved to check the injury but met Grayson's icy gaze, halting his approach and turning to scold Duglas for the sneak attack.

"I'm okay. Listen to me. Your feud with the church shouldn't be settled with a fight to the death right now. You and Andros must put aside your differences. The most important thing is to find the relic. If you two fight to the death, the happiest ones will be the thieves of the relic!"

Hearing Morven's earnest appeal, Grayson glanced at Andros, who was also looking back. After a moment's eye contact, Andros dissipated his spear in a glow of gold, sheathing his weapon as a sign of truce.

"Come, brother, follow me. I can't leave you in the hands of the knights." Without another word, Grayson hefted Morven onto his back and headed down the snowy slope.

Some knights attempted to intervene but were waved off by Andros. Grayson, with Morven on his back, slid down the slope, with Katheren, holding Elyra close, following in the direction the black-robed man had fled.

"Go after them," Andros instructed Seraphine. "With Grayson carrying Morven like that, they won't be able to tend to his wound properly. Your presence will make it easier to handle the injury."

Seraphine, who had been hesitating, quickly nodded at Andros's suggestion and slid down the slope, hurrying after Grayson.

Andros walked to the edge of the snow cliff, watching their retreating figures. Duglas, catching up, anxiously queried, "Captain, why let them go? This was the best chance to apprehend Grayson!"

"No, you're too impatient," Andros removed his silver helmet, revealing dark red hair, and spoke solemnly to Duglas. "Grayson's strength is beyond our expectations. It won't be settled in a moment, but Morven's wound cannot wait. Perhaps another approach will yield better results. Seraphine and Morven may get more out of him."

With a grave look, he added, "Don't worry, Grayson won't escape this island. The Mage Tower will keep watch over his movements. This is far from over."

"Understood, captain!" Duglas acknowledged.

Just then, a white owl descended from the sky, landing on Andros's shoulder.

Recognizing it as a messenger from the Mage Tower, Andros took the message cylinder from the owl's leg and unfolded the letter inside, murmuring in surprise, "They're coming here?"