Bypassing how the GC Fandom is all but deserted, thank you to the remaining survivors for the reviews. In this boneyard, reviews are like precious jewels.

Starbrigate – Lass has always been under her spell, I just made it more obvious~ so many questions! Many questions whose answers are written in last chapter, read it a bit more, and you shall see ^_^ If you still don't understand I'm a PM away. And yes, GC is dead :c So very dead...

lLegendsl – I hope you're not too full to enjoy another chapter so soon? And we can't all be so angsty and miserable and bleak even in the castle of doom, what fun is that? And yes, all the Chasers, including Lire, are gonna kick some serious ass soon enough c: Thank you~

Yui – You're alive! Glad to see you still find my writing worth reading and reviewing. All questions will (probably) be answered soon enough, stick around for them! I promised to see this story to the end, and I shall!

Hope is such a fragile light for the soul.

Nonetheless, sticking together was a good advantage for the four Chasers. Elesis was a bullish, quick-tempered, and self-righteous leader, but she was a leader. Her scars and burnt crop of hair seemed to only accentuate her leadership. She didn't explicitly command anyone to do anything; she was the first to charge and would not let anyone take any risk in her stead.

Thanks to Arme and Ryan's joint healing, Elesis looked less like a charred walking corpse and more the leader they knew her to be. Her hair could not be grown back, though; a fact Elesis accepted without much complaint. It had been one of her very few feminine traits, but…it was better, to not have her bangs cloud her vision every time she turned her head.

Conversation was held in quieted, quick whispers that echoed off the surface walls.

"Lire, what happened to your hair? And where did you get such a huge weapon?"

"It is a long story." Lire dismissed the topic, not wanting to feel the wistful pain at the thought of the sacrifice it took to gain her light. "For another time; she took Lass."

"She…? Oh." Realization morphed into a fresh surge of anger that erased the throbbing pain. Some of them were in stark silence at the witch's victory, and Elesis growled out words that were not at all nice to hear.

Lire, despite sharing more or less those same thoughts, urged her teammates to hurry. She knew that Kaze'Aze was not one to collect her prize and dismiss the rest so easily; the prospect of destroying the Grand Chase was a tempting offer for any monster. And with Amy and Jin still missing…they could be anywhere. Kaze'Aze may have already targeted them, intending to weed them out separately.

The Anmon Scouts were slowly dwindling in number, and less eager to attack them. Elesis had much fire to unleash, and pincers were barely detracted before a wall of crimson fire swept over them as Lire made kabobs out of them with each arrow shot.

Arme frowned as she looked at Elesis, lopping off an Anmon's head as it sailed over and beyond like a purple volleyball. The mage than looked at Ronan, heavily bandaged on his arms and hands; Arme could sense that whatever magic that possessed him was disabled, but something was not right. Some...strange, almost hybrid-like magic was shrouding both Elesis and Ronan. It didn't seem malignant, but not wholly benign, either. What was it?

Magic itself was an infinitely vast concept, so she couldn't pinpoint the exact glitch she was feeling, but Ronan must have done some strange, almost an obscure branch of magic, one that went against his nature. His aura flickered oddly. She would ask him later, when her mind wasn't so focused on staying alive.

Speaking of magic, Lire was swathed in an intricately woven aura that reflected her nature. Magic reflected its user after all, and no two mages could channel a spell exactly the same. Lire's aura was like a spring wind, kind yet firm; light and beautiful, but blinding as she punctured her enemies in bladed light.

Arme could only speculate what happened to her friend for her to become so elegant.

Ryan's blood trail flowed faster. The bright red had deepened to a dark maroon, as it was no longer the blood from a forest elf but the essence of a twisted creature.

Arme could sense the pulsing power, and a shiver ran down her spine. The witch's power was incredible, and this was only the preliminaries! Shadow-shifting, mind-controlling, dark-manipulation…Arme had studied under one of the best senior enchanters of Bermesiah and she had never known these dark, powerful magic had even existed. The anticipation, mixed with the fear, made her tingle! There was so much magical power present, everywhere.

"Maybe we can locate Amy if we sing? She likes music."

"If anyone's gonna sing, it won't be you."

"I can too sing!"

"You think it is singing. Sounds more like a constipated harpy."

"That's…ew."

"Yeah."

Long ago, Lire used to despair over her comrades' never-ending bickering, wondering how humanity could progress as it did with their maturity levels severely below the bar. Now she almost smiled, even joining the banter occasionally. They teased each other endlessly, yet the elf would be lost without them. Each arrow she knocked and released, another demon disintegrated into ash.

Elesis had her back. She always did.

But where was Amy? And Jin? The memory flickered back to her conscious, where she had all too willingly abandoned them in her pursuit for Lass. A twinge of guilt poked her; she shoved it aside. They all knew what they had signed up for. Yet she had been selfish, so selfish! To defeat Kaze'Aze, they needed to have stuck together. No one would have thought Lire to abandon the team to follow an individual.

Lass would have been left alone if she didn't follow, she reasoned. Was that enough? No, she decided, going after Lass was not worth abandoning the rest of her companions and not knowing if Amy and Jin were already slaughtered. It was a miracle that Elesis, Ronan, Arme, Ryan were still alive. Yet Lire knew that luck had limits.

If given another chance, she would have gone after Lass, again. No hesitation.

But why?

"All right, that's the last of the bastards, for now!" Elesis kept her sword high, alert for any threat. Before, Ronan would have made a face at the guts and blood that encrusted her blade and insisted that she clean it. Now, he was just as wary, his weapon equally bloodied. "Everyone move out before the trail disappears!"

"Hey." Lire turned, Ryan facing her with a small grin. "You doing okay?"

"I'm fine, Ryan." Realizing her voice might have sounded too sharp, she tried to soften her tone. "Really. You look like the ass end of an Orc compared to me."

He laughed, sort of. "Yeah, probably." He fidgeted around his pocket. "Do you…do you want your…thing back?"

She had almost forgotten about it. Well, no, not really. A safeguard for our kind…you will find your light. Hold it, and darkness cannot stain you. Let dawn banish the endless night.

The elders had given it to protect her. What would they think if they knew she gave the sacred heirloom of elvenkind to protect another, and an elf that wasn't even one of their blood?

"No." She stopped his hand. "You keep it." I have my own light.

Elesis frowned. The blood trail was dribbling too slow. And not only was Kaze'Aze on her radar, so was Amy and Jin. How was she supposed to hunt them down? Assuming they were still alive, that is. She could not sing to track the Muse; the very attempt would be laughable. Amy loved and responded to music, but Elesis was a warrior, not a minstrel!

No. First Kaze'Aze, and then Amy and Jin would be safe. But the blood trail? "Why's it stopping?"

Ryan's blood had stopped, pooling into a thick puddle before a rock wall. It wouldn't be impossible to think that Kaze'Aze was the rock, but that made little sense to Elesis. She was bemused for an exact two seconds before the solution came to her.

Ronan clamped his hands over his ears in pain as her blade screeched against the mineral. She was just hitting the wall with her sword. "Elesis, stop!"

"Kaze'Aze's through this wall!" She yelled back. "We have to hurry!"

Ryan's ears twitched. The rock barrier was pretty thick; manually mining through the crags would continue to eat up more time. But through it, his ears picked up sounds that would have been imperceptible to a human: clinks of metal, the sounds of brawling. Time to time, a battle cry, distinctly feminine. High-pitched, wailing…but human.

Wake up and stop trying to kill your friends you damn idiot!

That's what Jin would have liked to say as he grappled with Lass—Kaze'Aze Lass, because the real Lass wouldn't do this. But he had no time to think that. The most he could manage were strained grunts as he rasped for air. His lungs felt like deflated, ragged sacks. Yet he continued to fight. A true Silver Knight would never surrender.

"Jin, your left!" she screamed.

It was taking all he had to deflect Lass's attacks, not off him, but off Amy. She could hold her own (surprising for an Oracle) but close combat was not a talent she possessed. With Lass's superior agility and reflexes, he would have slaughtered her. It was all she could do to throw him off with her explosive music as she wielded her violin bow like a rapier, keeping him at a distance with jabs.

She tried to focus. His eyes were pure white…which was the only thing about him that was white. His armour was dark and had the face of a savage beast pressed in the chest plate that made it violently ominous. His daggers were curved, serrated, and already listened with Jin's blood. His movements were fluid, sharp, and merciless.

He is possessed. Strike down the one who controls him and he will be free.

So where was 'the one'?

A flash of black at the corner of her vision; she had left herself vulnerable. She lashed out her bow, which struck harmlessly at his armour. He yanked the stick from her hand, looked at her with unseeing eyes before contemptuously snapping the bow in half and tossing it onto the ground.

Without the bow, the violin was as good as useless. She might be able to pick out a passable melody like a lyre (and she hated lyres) but not channel her powers with fingers alone.

And the violin itself was already cracked along the bridge, she realized. She could no longer call herself a Muse then…

The possessed Lass slammed his daggers upwards, blocking the violin which Amy now wielded like a club. Her face was smeared with dirt, almost impassive as her beloved violin cracked apart, finally smashing to splinters with a groan.

But she could still dance. Using that moment to her advantage, she covered her face as she punched him square in the jaw, the resulting crack true music to her ears.

It was not a "Shy-Shy Punch". That was the punch of godly justice.

Before facing Lass she had asked Jin, It Lass was truly repossessed, were they fully prepared to kill him?

If there was nothing left of the boy they knew, he said. Then it wouldn't be killing a friend. It would be like putting down a rabid dog.

Jin didn't really think that, she knew. He was stubborn when it came to terms of loyalty and duty, the two that seldom conflicted. She had assured him that once Kaze'Aze was defeated, he would be free from her. Then he would come back. Of course reality would not be that simple, but it would work enough.

Then the plausible solution would be to almost kill him, if that was even possible. A memory: Jin only hit the back of Elesis' neck when she had lost control after Ronan was taken, but she collapsed like a puppet with its strings cut without so much as a protest. She could shout at Jin to do the same, but then Lass would catch on.

"Amy!" Jin sounded far away. He was the close combat fighter, not her; precisely why she had been targeted.

But this Lass was relentless; he never gave her the chance to summon her Chakrani. Amy knew martial arts, she knew dancing. But she did not know how to blend into the shadows and strike out a dozen times at once. The one advantage she had now was to keep at a distance, but he kept pressing on.

Lord Samsara, she begged as she stumbled, allowing an opening for Lass to strike her torso, I humbly ask your aid. Grant me your strength to live or your mercy for a quick death.

Did she scream when the dagger stabbed into her flesh? She remembered trying not to. She wouldn't give in the Kaze'Aze, the witch who spat upon her gods' names, the heartless madwoman, she wouldn't give the satisfaction to see her suffer.

Where was everyone else? Her…friends? Did Kaze'Aze already kill them, and she and Jin were the last sacrifices? No! She had to get up! If Amy was faced with no option but death, then she would make her death as spitefully as she could. Grabbing the hilt of the dagger, she yanked it out and slashed sideways, opening a cut across Lass' face.

She spoke.

So eager to turn upon your little friend. It was an echo of voices that sounded like broken nails and sandpaper. Is the Grand Chase so high and mighty to kill the people it accepts?

It was Lass' mouth that moved, but the voices were those of the sadist. Every blow you strike him confirms that he is beyond redemption, hopeless as this peace that you strive to achieve. There is no peace. There is only denial in strife.

"Amy!" Jin rushed to her side, grimacing at the wound. It was not too deep, which infuriated the Fighter. While he was glad that the cut was not immediately fatal, he saw that the dagger had twisted and broken the sides of the skin. The cut was meant to inflict maximal agony, not cause instant death. Kaze'Aze was continuing to toy with them. "Can you breathe?"

She only raised a shaking finger, behind his shoulder, where Lass grabbed for Jin's throat, holding him in a chokehold…

Elbowing Lass on the torso, Jin staggered away. They needed time. His neck still felt vulnerable, exposed.

The Silver Knights were taught to face challenges with courage, even death. Even in the dawn of the Betrayal Massacre, the knights gave up their lives to protect their people. They were the exemplars of fearlessness and strength.

Yet still, in this dark, endless pit, he was afraid. He felt like he was a little boy again, struggling to move as Tairin pushed him away as Victor's minions slaughtered the inhabitants of Silver Land, his mentor yelling at him to run.

You are fearful. So was the vessel. You act the coward because you realize that there is not victory for you here.

Those who don't know fear, will not know courage. Jin held onto Amy; putting her down might as well put a death target on her. His muscles were sore and there were glancing nicks on his body, but his mind was kicked into overdrive. If the Underworld was to claim his soul today, he would make sure that it was a two-in-one package deal with Kaze'Aze.

The lion who fights to protect the pride. Your light shines to complete her cycle.

All Jin could think was, There are too many creepy voices talking to me.

Die for the peace you will never know! Lass angled the daggers and charged.

As the assassin ran towards them, something in Jin's mind flickered. Pressure points; minimal protection on face; too far to reach the back of neck; temple. In a last-ditch move, he lashed out his tonfa to the side. His fire was the colour of red and gold. So why was there a white, almost greenish glow when he struck?

Her origins are tragic, but the cycle continues, with hers coming to an end. Accept my light, Leondis, and bring the end to her cycle with your comrades.

Jin found cryptic messages and text scrolls stimulating when meditating or engaging in ancient literature. Just not when he was fighting to the death. My name is not Leondis! But comrades? That meant everyone was alive! Or at least, not all of them were dead. That gave him hope.

His red hair shook loose as Jin steadied both Amy and himself, with the silver-haired boy slumped onto the ground. Yes, it was the temple. Was it a fatal pressure point? Nope, Lass was still twitching, writhing in pain, but far from dead. Jin struggled to keep his vision from blurring. If Lass wasn't possessed and doing this of his own free will then Jin would have already shoved his Chamma up his—

Poor child. The voice sounded almost pitying. Of many bloods yet belonging to none. It would almost be a mercy to end his misery…his cycle is filled with thorns and blood.

At this point, Jin had no idea who was saying what anymore, only that he had to live. And he wanted Lass, the real Lass, to live. Jin might not know the full experience of being forced to kill innocents with his own hands but he knew the look of someone whose world was shattered, and given a second chance.

There was an itch on his face; the rivers of blood on his head was drying, crusted his cheek. He would fight, whether he had to talk to disembodied voices and face impossible odds. His golden eyes were hazy as Lass leapt back to his feet.

Time was inconstant where the sun could not shine, but it felt like hours when Arme blew off the last chunk of rubble into the cavern, the rest of the Chase barrelling through.

Elesis was not especially fond of Amy, but her blood boiled to see her a crumpled mess of bruises and ripped flesh, gasping feebly for breath as she looked at them with unseeing eyes. With one knee to the ground, Jin looked worse. There was a gaping slash on his forearm and it was clear that he was conscious by sheer will. It was as if his clothes were dyed in blood, both fresh and dry.

Standing before them was the centrepiece of this pathetic display: the boy with the white eyes, the corners of his mouth twisted upwards.

She wanted him to hurt. Lungs bursting with panic and fear…before he realized he didn't have lungs. He had no body to call his own, much less his own lungs. He was a nothing. She said that he was less than nothing. For a long time, he had believed every word she said, because he knew nothing else.

Perhaps that was why this time, it was harder to…adjust. Because he knew, and had lived, a life beyond her shadow, albeit too brief. He could see. And it tormented him. The present was too punishing when he knew of a better past.

What of life before he encountered the witch at all? There were very few scraps that evaded his reach when he tried to remember. There were some bits that lingered in his fractured memory: wisps of blue light that burned hotter than fire, the sharp smell of dead flowers. But without context, they made no sense.

She let him see: Amy and Jin were tossed aside like broken dolls as his arms—the arms that used to be his—swatted them like mosquitos. Why did they no just destroy his body? Then he would find atonement with his life, or however much was left of it.

He wanted the guilt to end. Sometimes dying felt like the best way to achieve that end. In rare moments, he surprised himself by wanting to live, like a flicker of a better day that he thought he could reach for. It hurt more afterwards.

He wished he could forget the feeling of being a spectator in what he used to call his own body. He tried to stay down when Jin struck him. He forced himself to move as slowly as he could. But when he saw the rest of the Grand Chase, their expressions when they saw him, Amy, Jin? They wore the same faces as those he had killed. Horror, grief, shame, regret. Did they regret their choices now, to bring him in?

Something pulsed in the chest. It wasn't his heart. His heart wouldn't feel so black.

When he was finally empty, he hoped they would dispose of his remains thoroughly.

And yet, a tiny part of him that knew hope might still have wanted to live. Was that why Lire was staring at him, past the eyes he knew had no colour? She was so bright.

"Get them out of there!" Elesis had a moment's hesitation before charging towards Lass. "And you get out of him!"

He cannot hear you. He will not. The mocking voice reverberated off the rocks, steel clashing against steel as Ronan hurried to drag Jin to the side. He has accepted his fate. Yours await in your grave, knight spawn.

Arme thought Kaze'Aze's magic was great; how wrong she was. It was more than great. The sheer intensity of the magic in the clearing threatened to overwhelm her. All of that power, that energy, channelled through…Lass. A chill ran down her spine. No normal human could absorb that much impact of magic and survive.

Receiving Jin from Ronan, she steadied the fighter into a laying position. Potions and magic were at her hands as she looked up. "Ronan?"

His eyesight darted, anxious. "The Shadow Orb. It's here, it's whole." Panic underlying his voice, Arme saw his fingers twitch. "It's going to control me again. No, I can't. I won't!"

Ryan bristled. He felt his blood curdle; was it literally curdling, the blood reacting to its master? No, he was the guardian of earth, not some mindless minion. Deep, even breaths. When he exhaled, his hands had uncurled into paws, his tail swished behind. The wolf's eyes flared, signalling the beginning of the hunt.

The elfling who carries my blood. Such a shame, I already have a pet. Kill these wretches and I may keep you as a guard dog.

He snarled, flattening his ears. Ryan leapt forward.

"Ronan! Ronan, calm down! No one's going to control you!"

His eyes, wild with fright, turned to Arme. "The orb is close. If I hurt someone again—I can't!"

"If you hurt anyone again I'll strangle you and kick your ass off Aerneas!" Arme snapped back, her nerves raw. "Where's the Shadow Orb?"

"I don't know. It's here, somewhere, but I don't know where." He gulped. "It's so close…it's there! No, over there!"

"Focus!" Arme smacked his head. "And you call yourself a knight? Even Elesis has more concentration than you!"

Ooh, burn.

And the elf who didn't know how to stop meddling with my plans—the vessel is eager to meet you. You shall be the first to despair, as an example to all.

Lire was pretty sure that Kaze'Aze wasn't talking about Ryan. As if in confirmation, a javelin was thrust at her face, closely followed by Lass.

She was at a huge disadvantage and she knew it. Compared to their last encounter, her bow had gotten massively heavier, restricting her agility to that of a turtle compared to the thief. If she remained at a distance, she might be able to get in a clear shot. Too bad Kaze'Aze had a personal vendetta against her for keeping Lass out of her clutches as long as she did.

Such a shame no one writes here anymore. Sometimes I feel like I'm a dancer in front of a ghost audience. But still, I perform. Because I believe that somewhere, at least a single person is watching.