Return (4)

Then reappeared behind him, again.

A knee to the back.

An elbow to the skull.

A hand on his face.

Lindarion slammed into the ground again, spine-first.

The air left his lungs in a wheeze.

This time, Maeven didn't say anything.

He just stepped over him, foot pressing to his neck.

Not hard.

Just… steady.

"You really don't quit," Maeven said. "That's cute. Sad, but cute."

Lindarion didn't look up.

His body screamed. His ribs felt shattered. His mana core pulsed faintly, low on fuel, too much burned too fast.

But he clenched his fists again.

Maeven looked down. "Still?"

Lindarion didn't speak.

Didn't channel.

He just whispered something.

Maeven leaned down. "What was that?"

"Not alone," Lindarion muttered.

Then the air split open beside them.

Ashwing wasn't small anymore.