Chapter 63: Dragstrike

Chapter 63: Dragstrike

Bellar lunged fist-first into the closest smug face. Her knuckles cracked loud against a jaw, sending the Squad 6 girl tumbling back with a spit of blood and a dumbfounded yelp.

Another swung from behind with their blade. Bellar twisted and her elbow slammed g into their ribs with enough force to cave wood. A third came in with twin daggers—too slow. Bellar caught one wrist, pivoted her body and flung the girl over her shoulder.

“Get the hell outta my way!”

But for every one she dropped, two more danced into place. They moved like one mind with twenty masks, laughing even when their friends hit stone.

Then, from behind the semicircle, a cold rhythm started.

Soft at first.

Then louder.

Synchronized.

“Mystcry Arts #30…”

“Cutting Light.”

The chant echoed like distant thunder cracking across hollow bone.

“Tch…” Bellar muttered. “I forgot how good you artsy weirdos are with Mystcry…”