Lunara gazed down at the ring, the catalyst for so much destruction that was now destined to be returned to the Menagerie. She made a mental note to bring this up with her brother, it was clear the Menagerie needed a far stricter policy regarding who received these props, especially now that the Godlings were planning to extend their reach beyond their own borders.

For Lunara, this was about the survival of her people. It was one thing to face an enemy you could see and hear, a threat that could be scouted and avoided. It was another thing entirely to have a monster hiding in plain sight, picking off the innocent one by one like a phantom in the snow.

The sound of two pained groans pulled her from her thoughts. She turned toward the shimmering spheres, watching the effects of the healing water spell she had learned from her brother’s wife. It was a potent magic, and it had clearly done its work.

Leiko, never one for a subtle exit, flexed his mana until his bubble burst into a billowing cloud of white steam. Magnus, meanwhile, stepped calmly from his own sphere. His clothes were little more than scorched rags at this point, so he made do by expending a steady flow of mana to shroud his body, creating a shimmering layer of warmth against the biting northern wind.

Leiko flashed Lunara a cheeky, sharp-toothed smile. "Thanks for the soak, Snow. I needed that healing bath more than I realized."

Magnus despite his tattered appearance, offered a shallow, gentlemanly bow. "Your healing was elegantly woven and beautifully executed, my lady. My thanks."

Lunara looked between the two, a small, knowing smile tugging at her lips. "Think nothing of it," she teased, her eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. "Just be sure to remember my share when you finally collect that bounty."

"Of course," both replied in perfect, immediate unison.

Leiko glanced at Magnus, a triumphant smirk dancing on his face as he turned back to Lunara. "So, did you happen to catch who made the final kill while the other guy was too weak to even move?"

Lunara chuckled softly, her hand rising to cover her lips in a graceful gesture. "I saw the gaping, scorched hole in the Beast King’s chest. I didn’t need a witness to know that was your handiwork."

Magnus smacked his lips in visible annoyance, his brow twitching. "It seems someone is conveniently forgetting who created the opening in the first place," he muttered. "You wouldn’t have even had a target to hit if I hadn’t pinned him down."

"It just goes to show my superiority," Leiko replied, his tone airy and matter-of-fact. "You simply exist to be the support that allows me to shine." 𝑓𝑟𝑒𝘦𝓌𝑒𝑏𝑛𝑜𝘷𝑒𝘭.𝒸𝘰𝑚

Lunara’s eyes drifted toward Nova, who was watching the bickering pair with an expression of profound boredom. The shrunken companion caught her gaze and slowly shook his head, clearly unimpressed by the display of ego. Lunara couldn’t help but offer him a sympathetic smile, some things, it seemed, would never change.

Lunara tossed the ring she had recovered toward Magnus. He caught it with a practiced flick of his wrist, raising a curious brow as he examined the small artifact.

"That is your ticket," Lunara explained. "Use it to contact the Menagerie and claim exactly what you’re looking for."

Magnus tightened his grip on the ring, nodding slowly, but his focus was quickly pulled away. A frown creased his forehead as he watched Leiko stride purposefully toward the towering, mountain-sized corpse of the Beast King.

Leiko came to a halt before the wall of scales. He held out his hand, his eyes fixed on the distance where his weapon had been discarded in the heat of battle. With a sharp tug of his will, his sword whistled through the air, crossing the expanse in a blur before slapping firmly into his open palm.

He didn’t sheath it. Instead, he raised his opposite hand, wrapping his fingers around the naked blade as if he were grasping a hilt. With a cold motion, he drew the steel across his own palm, the sharp edge biting deep and drawing a steady flow of crimson blood.

Leiko began a slow, rhythmic walk around the perimeter of the titan’s remains, letting his blood drip steadily onto the frost as he began to intone a low, haunting prayer.

"Lord of the Fractured Mind, Weaver of the Crimson Storm, behold the tithe of this day. Accept this offering as my prayer. Through the blood, I am seen. Through the madness, I am whole."

By the time the final word left his lips, the spilled blood had woven itself into a sprawling, intricate magic circle upon the ice. Simultaneously, a thick, visceral red mist began to bleed from his sword, coiling around the steel like a living thing.

Leiko’s attention shifted back to the massive corpse. His original target had been the heart, but he had incinerated that organ in the final heat of the struggle. He would have to settle for the next best trophy.

With a casual, light swing of his blade, he released a thin, hyper-compressed wave of air. Shrouded in that same crimson mist, the strike shrieked through the air, cleanly decapitating the serpent. The head, the size of a manor house, thundered onto the ice with a bone-shaking thud. Unfazed, Leiko walked toward the severed trophy, allowing himself to be drenched in the torrential downpour of leaking blood as he dragged the massive head into the center of his waiting circle.

"Here is my offering, O great Björn."

As the name left Leiko’s lips, a crushing stronger will descended upon the clearing. It felt as though the very sky had lowered to witness the ritual. The presence cast a cold, discerning glance over the icy expanse, briefly lingering on the two spectators. Lunara watched with interest, her eyes tracing the flow of power, while Magnus turned his head away, his expression one of pure, unfiltered disgust at the bizzare display.

The will then shifted its focus to Leiko and the colossal, severed head. After a heartbeat of silent judgment, the presence receded as quickly as it had arrived. With its departure, the offered head dissolved into fine, grey dust, swept away by the arctic wind.

Leiko stood at the center of the fading circle, staring down at the shimmering blessing left behind by Björn. Usually, he would have consumed the gift himself, pulling the raw essence into his own soul to bolster his strength. But a glance at the still-averting Magnus sparked a different thought. Leiko extended his consciousness, brushing over the debris of the battlefield until he found exactly what he was looking for.

With a flick of his wrist, the shattered remains of Magnus’s bow flew through the air and snapped into his hand. The glowing blessing settled onto the fractured wood, and Leiko’s voice took on a dark, rhythmic quality as he smoothed the energy over the weapon.

"The gift of Björn is a hungry gift," he murmured.

As the words took hold, the splinters groaned and knit back together. The blessing was swallowed by the grain of the bow, fusing the wood back into a single, seamless whole, stronger and more predatory than it had been before.

Meanwhile, Magnus had turned his back the moment Leiko began his approach toward the corpse. No matter how many times he witnessed it, the sight never sat right with him, it felt like a stain upon the natural order.

Every time Leiko performed the ritual, Magnus’s opinion of the god Björn withered further. To him, the entire display was nothing short of barbaric. As a proud and devout worshipper of the Goddess of the Moon, he found such demands for tribute to be beneath the dignity of true divinity. In his eyes, only a god of malice would require an offering of warm blood to grant their favor.

The wet crunch of footsteps in the snow drew nearer, bringing with it the heavy, metallic scent of gore. Magnus turned, an irritable retort already forming on his lips, but he froze.

Leiko stood there, hand outstretched, holding a weapon that should have been forgotten. His broken bow was back, not just repaired, but visibly thrumming with a newfound energy. Subconsciously, Magnus reached out to reclaim his bow, but his hand stopped mid-air. His nose caught the unmistakable, lingering scent of the ritual’s blood clinging to the wood. In that instant, he understood exactly how the weapon had been mended.

Magnus began to withdraw his hand, his pride warring with his need, when Leiko’s voice cut through the tension. "Take it. Now I owe you nothing for stealing the final kill."

The words acted as a bridge for Magnus’s conscience. He knew he shouldn’t accept a gift born of such a ritual, but the bow was a part of him. He reached out and grasped the riser, feeling the dark, revitalized pulse of the weapon beneath his fingers.