Marcellus grinned savagely, tightening his grip on his blade. His beast roared in answer, muscles coiled like springs ready to snap.

Aston raised his hand. "Drop it, Kai."

Kai's jaw clenched, sweat beading on his brow. "Shelldon—release the wall. Transition!"

The Spiral Bastion Crabling clicked its pincers, the barrier shattering outward in a cascade of dissolving hexagons. For a split second, the ten stood revealed through the haze of fire and dust. Then they charged.

"Forward!" Aston's voice cut like steel.

Gray erupted from his side, no longer the faint shadow stalking prey but a streak of obsidian light. Mirage soared above, translucent wings scattering frost that shimmered into razor shards. The enemy's flames sputtered as the air itself grew colder.

Marcellus was first out of the fire. His beast slammed into the nearest foe, claws tearing into scales. With a bellow, Marcellus's sword followed through, the impact ringing like a war drum. The handler cried out, stumbling backward under the force of the combined strike.

Ivy's fox darted behind him, runes flaring from its paws. "Fracture Seal!" she called. Chains of silver essence snaked out, binding an enemy beast's legs before it could pounce. The ground cracked beneath it, leaving the creature thrashing helplessly.

Brennar shouted, "Fire!"

The crab construct answered with a rumble, laser light flashed from its eye sensor.

Selene's dove soared overhead, its golden light raining across their allies. Wounds sealed as quickly as they came, Marcellus's bruises fading before they could slow him. "Don't falter!" Selene urged, her voice steady as a bell.

Kai, though pale, stood firm. His eyes darted across the battlefield, calculating angles. "Team Thirty Seven, on the enemy leader, now!"

His own team, standing shoulder to shoulder with Shelldon, moved in tandem. The Spirit Combat archer unleashed a spear of lightning essence that cracked across the enemy's rear ranks, forcing a beast to recoil. The alchemist's spirit beast—a winged feline with jagged feathers—harried the air, slashing at aerial threats before they could dive at Selene's dove. The support summoned a wave of binding roots that tangled an enemy handler's legs, stalling his retreat.

They weren't frontline crushers like Marcellus, nor did they have the lethal precision of Gray—but their timing and support meshed seamlessly into Kai's commands. Every strike and bind they placed kept the enemy alliance from regaining momentum.

It was clear: Aston's and Kai's groups weren't just fighting side by side. They were fighting as one unit, the line between two teams blurring in the rhythm of survival.

The leader cursed, swinging his blade in defense, but the onslaught of attacks rendered him incapacitated.

The alliance broke into chaos. The twenty had been numbers; the ten were a unit.

The battlefield lay in ruin. Shattered trees, cracked stone, and the acrid tang of scorched earth marked where the alliance had fallen. The light of elimination still lingered faintly in the air, dissolving like smoke.

Aston's group stood heaving in the quiet. Sweat beaded down foreheads, clothes torn, weapons dulled by the strain of combat. Even Gray panted softly, his fur bristled and claws dripping faint sparks of essence.

Selene's dove circled above the squad, shedding threads of golden light that wrapped around each fighter. Bruises faded, cuts knit together, and fatigue bled from weary muscles, though slowly. Selene herself was pale, her hands trembling as she steadied her staff, but her voice was calm. "Stay still. The light will mend you. Just… don't push."

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One of Kai's teammates—a lean boy with the faint stains of alchemical reagents across his sleeves—knelt among the battered squad. He uncorked vials, the sharp scent of herbs and spirit-dust filling the air. "Drink," he urged, passing the bottles out. "It'll settle your essence flow and keep you on your feet."

Marcellus downed his with a grimace. "Tastes like moss left in old boots."

"It works," the alchemist muttered, ignoring the complaint.

Aston took his share, swallowing it in silence. Already he felt the burn in his veins cool, his essence channels loosening from the strain of battle. He exhaled slowly, then lifted his gaze.

"Mirage."

The owl stirred, translucent wings spreading as it took flight. Aston closed his eyes, letting their link draw tight. His sight lifted high above the battered ridge, the forest below painted in streams of heat and essence.

Kai's voice broke the hush. He was seated against a cracked root, glasses askew, face pale but eyes sharp. "We've made too much noise. And the space…" He trailed off, gesturing faintly with his hand. "It's shrinking so much that every clash echoes through the whole arena. Someone will come. Or several."

Even as he said it, Mirage's piercing screech cut across the canopy. Aston's eyes snapped open, vision tightening through their bond.

Two clusters of lights flared in the distance, beasts and handlers colliding in a frenzy. Entire squads, locked in desperate combat. Not just stragglers—alliances.

One side—three teams strong—moved with the swagger of numbers. Their formation was tight, beasts covering one another with practiced discipline, pressure mounting like a crashing tide.

The other alliance—only two teams—fought with grit but lacked the bulk to hold the line. Their formation bent under the weight of the assault, gaps opening with every passing exchange.

And then Aston's heart lurched.

Verdy.

The Verdalune Moss Lemur clung to a handler's back, tail flicking anxiously, moss-like fur glowing faintly under stress. Its leafy eyes were locked on its opponents as it darted across shattered stone.

Rowan.

His friend's stance was unmistakable—hands jammed into his pockets even in the middle of chaos, a grin tugging at his lips as if daring the world to push him harder. He barked an order, and Verdy responded instantly, weaving mossy tendrils across the ground to trip an enemy beast mid-charge.

But the grin didn't hide the truth. Rowan's side was on the verge of collapse.

"Rowan…" Aston whispered, the name leaving his lips before he could stop it.

"What is it?" Selene asked, her dove hovering close, sensing the sudden change in him.

"Rowan… he's a friend in our circle."

For a heartbeat, silence reigned in the cramped clearing. His words carried a weight that felt personal, selfish even. To ask his squad to risk themselves for one boy in a battlefield this brutal… it wasn't the kind of order a leader should give lightly.

But Aston didn't waver. "I want us to help him."

Marcellus arched a brow, his beast snarling low as if echoing his curiosity. "That's a tall ask. We just crawled out of hell ourselves."

Brennar folded his arms, though his tone wasn't harsh. "If we go, we'll be fighting three squads at once. Not exactly smart odds."

Aston met their eyes in turn, his voice steady, calm but firm. "Rowan's alliance is already softening them. We won't be walking into a fresh enemy—we'll be finishing what they started. And every team eliminated there cuts the total down faster." He let the words sink in before finishing, softer now. "It's selfish, I know. But this is both a rescue and an opportunity."

The weight of his reasoning settled. Selene exhaled slowly, her dove brushing its wing against her cheek. "It isn't selfish," she said. "You've carried us this far, Aston. If this is what you want, then it's what we'll do."

Marcellus smirked faintly, rolling his shoulders. "Fine. If this Rowan's your friend, then he'd better be worth it. I don't swing for free."

Ivy gave a small nod, her fox's tail flicking silver sparks. "Three alliances in one clash. If we pull it off, no one can ignore us anymore."

Even Brennar grunted, conceding. "Then let's make it count."

Aston smiled and said, "Okay, let's move."

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