Moon’ss eyes drifted across the arena.

His gaze landed where Emma’s had already gone.

Alaric and Ace were still locked in their exchange at the arena’s center. Their fight had scoured a perfect circle of destruction around them, every piece of rubble within a fifty-meter radius pulverized into finer rubble by the residual force of their strikes.

Golden light and pale silver clashed against each other in flashes bright enough to make even Awakener eyes water at this distance. Neither fighter had gained meaningful ground. Both were still holding the exchange at a tempo that would have shredded anyone else on the battlefield.

Moon watched them for a long moment.

’Even at Surpasser tier, I can’t intervene there.’

The realization was uncomfortable, but it was honest. Alaric wasn’t just a Surpasser. He was one of the strongest Surpassers. Ace was also the same, clearly matching Alaric’s power without any visible trouble.

The two of them were fighting at a ceiling Moon’s current transformation could only graze at the edges. Wading into that exchange with two minutes of Life Burn left and one arm would be suicide, not support.

Moon glanced sideways.

Emma’s hands were clenched into fists at her sides as she watched Alaric’s fight like like a hawk.

Moon knew that expression.

He had seen it before... on Selene.

’She’s thinking the same thing I am. She wants to help him but she can’t. Alaric probably ordered her not to before the fight even started, which is the right call. Even though she is strong, she isn’t strong enough to compete with those two.’

Emma’s fingers relaxed after a moment.

Her hands opened and few droplets of blood began to drop from her hand. Her jaw unclenched as she exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing the tension out of her shoulders piece by piece.

She didn’t move toward Alaric.

She held her position.

Moon watched her, and for a moment, she reminded him of Selene.

The same choice to hold back for the sake of the person when every instinct in your body was screaming to close the distance. The same strength that came from loving someone stronger than you and trusting them enough to let them fight without your interference.

Emma caught him watching her.

She coughed before raising her eyebrow, "What?"

"Nothing."

She narrowed her eyes.

"You looked at me like you were going to say something."

"I was thinking that you looked like Selene just now."

Emma’s grin returned, "That’s the nicest thing anyone’s said to me all day. Don’t tell her though. She’ll get an ego about it."

Moon huffed a laugh.

Then his eyes went back to the battlefield. Two minutes left. Whatever he was going to do next, it needed to happen now.

♢♢♢♢

"I need help!"

Ian’s voice tore across the arena at a pitch that no Ascender should ever have to produce.

"Wait!"

"Baaron! I can’t fucking WAIT! I’m going to DIE!"

He barely parried Farid’s next strike, his single remaining arm shaking under the impact. His spear was chipped along its length. His body was riddled with burns and lacerations. The stump of his left arm had never fully cauterized, and blood was still running down his side in a stream that hadn’t stopped in the last two minutes.

Even though his body as an Ascender was immensely powerful, Farid had a bleeding effect that countered that.

Farid didn’t even acknowledge the outburst.

His staff came around in another strike. Blue fire trailed behind it. Ian barely raised his spear in time, and the flames licked across his side as the weapon slid off his desperate parry.

Ian staggered backward.

His mana channels were on the verge of collapse. His breathing came in wet, uneven gasps. If nothing changed in the next minute, he was going to die on this floor, and everyone who was still capable of reading a fight knew it.

Baaron heard him cry out for help once again.

The short Ascender’s cleaver clashed against Tom’s golden gloves in the same instant, the force of the impact shaking the rubble within a hundred meters beneath their feet.

"I can’t help you!"

Baaron’s own voice was hoarse with frustration. Golden flame flared and pushed him back another step. His grip on his cleaver whitened.

Tom was a new Ascender, had he been in top condition, he would have dealt with him by now. But since Tom arrived when he had already spent a considerable portion of his power against Sierra, this fight was dragging on for longer than he anticipated or ever wanted.

"This fucking fox won’t let me move! Every time I try to break off, he closes the distance and locks me in place. Just hold on, Ian! Hold on! The master will reveal himself soon! We just have to survive until then!"

Ian didn’t have another minute.

He tried to answer anyway.

Briefly, his eyes turned toward Baaron’s position, mouth opening to shout something back, and Farid’s staff came down.

Blue fire erupted forward in a concentrated lance.

Ian’s brain registered it a fraction too late. His body tried to twist. His spear tried to rise. The lance of flame punched through him at three separate points across his torso, tearing holes clean through his side, his shoulder, and his hip. Blood sprayed from all three wounds simultaneously. His body arched backward under the impact and hit the rubble on his knees.

His remaining arm dropped his spear.

Farid stepped forward, staff already lifting for the finishing strike.

At the same time, Tom moved.

Baaron’s cleaver was still committed to the exchange, his weight leaning into a diagonal cut aimed at Tom’s neck.

Tom pivoted at the last possible instant, letting the cleaver pass through the space he had occupied a heartbeat earlier. His body twisted in mid-motion, both gloves flaring bright, and he redirected his entire momentum sideways in a quick burst.

Golden flame erupted from his palms.

Seeing this, Baaron instinctively retreated, knowing that the golden fire was coming to burn him once again.

Midway through his defensive leap, Baaron saw Tom’s flames arc towards Ian’s rising body.

"Shit!"