Max clenched his teeth.

  The dart struck his shoulder, tearing the fabric of his shirt before bouncing off and falling into the sand. The sting was immediate. A shallow cut, but enough to set his arm on fire and make his muscles tense against the ropes.

  The crowd erupted in ughter and appuse.

  “Closer!” someone shouted between ughs.

  Max took a deep breath, holding back the pain and the rage. The rope tightened when he tried to move.

  Beside him, Gawain suddenly jerked.

  “What—?!” he shouted, twisting. “I can’t see! Damn it, I can’t see anything!”

  The cloth bag still covered his head.

  “They blinded me!” he yelled, struggling against the cross. “That smoke—! I can’t see, Max!”

  “Calm down!” Max shouted back, raising his voice over the roar of the crowd. “Breathe! You’re still alive!”

  Lionel ughed, strolling calmly across the ring.

  “Ah, the drama,” he said in a sing-song voice. “They always react the same.”

  Max gritted his teeth. He forced his gaze past the spotlights, ignoring the pain in his shoulder. And then he saw them.

  Off to one side of the tent, almost hidden behind fabric and stage structures, were smaller cages. Lined up. Prepared.

  Animals. Creatures. Upcoming acts.

  In one of them, bound with ropes and shackles, was Moon.

  Her torn white apron, her head resting against the floor, eyes closed. Her chest rose and fell slowly. Paralyzed.

  “Moon…” Max murmured, barely audible.

  Lionel raised a hand to signal the next throw.

  And then—

  The ground shook.

  A thunderous crash ripped through the tent. A deep, savage roar tore through the air.

  The side canvas ripped open violently.

  Screams. Not from the audience.

  From the opening, creatures of all kinds poured in: beasts that had been chained only minutes before, hunched figures, beings of impossible races—some wounded, others furious, all free.

  The ring descended into chaos.

  “WHO LET THE BEASTS ESCAPE?!” Lionel roared, losing his composure for the first time.

  The clowns backed away. Some fled. Others were knocked aside before they could react.

  The audience screamed, shoving, trying to run.

  In the middle of the disaster, a familiar figure advanced with determination.

  “Enor.”

  The princess dodged a creature crossing the ring and reached them in seconds. Without a word, she raised her hands.

  The ropes tightened.

  Then gave way.

  Max dropped to his knees, gasping as the pressure vanished from his wrists.

  “You freed them…” he said, looking up at her with a tense but sincere smile. “You’re a genius, Enor.”

  She blinked—and blushed.

  “There wasn’t time,” she replied, looking away as she kept working.

  She freed Gawain and tore the bag off his head in one sharp pull.

  Gawain blinked several times.

  “…Huh,” he said, surprised. “I can see.”

  He touched his eyes, incredulous.

  “I can see!” he excimed, letting out a nervous ugh. “They cured my blindness!”

  “We’ll celebrate ter,” Max said, already free.

  He looked back toward the cages.

  “I’m going for Moon,” he said without hesitation. “I saw her.”

  Enor nodded immediately.

  “Gawain and I will cover you.”

  Gawain was already standing, rolling his shoulders.

  “No one touches you,” he growled.

  Max took a deep breath. Then he ran—straight toward the cages, as the entire circus colpsed into chaos.

  He hadn’t taken more than five steps when something nded in front of him.

  Two female figures emerged from the chaos with sinuous movements. Reddish skin. Membranous wings folding against their backs. Dangerous smiles.

  The succubi who had been with Lionel.

  Beside them, a clown unlike the others advanced with slow steps. Too tall. Too thin. His smeared makeup seemed to hide something beneath.

  “Not this way,” one of the succubi said, exhaling a soft ugh.

  Smoke began to pour out around her.

  The same smoke.

  Gray. Dense. Billowing from their mouths and hands as if they were breathing poison.

  “The smoke!” Max shouted.

  All three reacted instantly.

  Max and Gawain covered their noses and mouths. Enor stepped back, raising her arm to summon a current of air.

  “Don’t breathe!” she ordered.

  The smoke advanced anyway.

  Enor frowned.

  It didn’t move like normal smoke.

  “It’s magical…” she murmured. “It’s not responding.”

  The succubi advanced.

  The clown lunged at Gawain with a shrill scream.

  “MAX!” Enor shouted.

  Without hesitation, she raised both hands.

  A violent current wrapped around Max from below and hurled him upward, unching him over the smoke and the creatures.

  Max barely had time to react.

  He activated the boots.

  His body floated, falling in slow motion as he moved diagonally, straight toward the cages.

  ‘Good!’ he thought through clenched teeth.

  Below him, Gawain smmed into the strange clown like a moving wall. The impact sent it flying several meters back, smashing through a wooden structure.

  Enor tried once more to disperse the smoke.

  Nothing.

  The succubi smiled.

  And turned toward her.

  “Now you,” one whispered.

  They took a step—

  And something enormous stepped in.

  Two massive figures burst in from the side.

  Conjoined orcs.

  Fused at the torso, with two pairs of arms and rge horns curving forward. Their eyes burned with fury.

  “No,” they said in unison, pnting their feet in the sand.

  “You’re not touching,” they continued, stepping forward, “the girl who freed us.”

  The succubi retreated, clicking their tongues.

  Enor stared at them, stunned.

  “…Thank you,” she managed.

  Max saw none of that.

  He had arrived.

  He nded softly in front of Moon’s open cage, the boots cushioning his descent.

  “Moon,” he said, dropping to his knees at once.

  He untied the ropes with trembling hands.

  She barely moved.

  Then he saw it.

  A dart.

  Embedded in her neck, right between the white scales.

  “There you are…” he murmured.

  He took hold of it carefully and pulled.

  The dart came free. Moon shuddered. A gasp. Her eyes flew open.

  “Father…” she murmured, disoriented.

  “I’m here,” Max said, holding her. “It’s okay. It’s over.”

  Moon slowly sat up.

  And then—

  She sensed the danger.

  Behind Max, a third succubus appeared silently, infting her chest to release the smoke directly onto him.

  Moon reacted without thinking.

  She opened her mouth.

  White fire.

  The smoke exploded.

  The succubus screamed for barely a second before vanishing in fmes, her own smoke igniting from within.

  The bst shook the air.

  Max spun around, stunned.

  Moon was breathing hard, a small fme still slipping between her teeth.

  ‘…Good,’ Max thought, his heart pounding. ‘Just like in the game. Succubus smoke is highly fmmable.’

  He smiled, clenching his fists.

  “Perfect,” he murmured. “Now we can fight.”