Sarah Blackthorne was not what Kaelen expected.
The file had described her as charismatic and persuasive. It had mentioned shadow magic training. It hadn't mentioned that she moved like a professional duelist or that her eyes held the cold calculation of someone who'd killed many times before.
"You're wondering how we knew you'd come," she said, descending the stairs slowly. Her cultists fanned out to surround Kaelen and Lia. "It's simple really. Marcus predicted you'd try to decapitate our command structure. Predicted you'd choose the most dangerous-looking target to prove yourselves. So I volunteered to be bait."
"Volunteered to die?" Kaelen asked, trying to buy time while Lia checked on the downed Shadow Hunters.
"Volunteered to test you," Sarah corrected. "Marcus wants to know if you're worth recruiting or just worth killing. Your performance tonight determines which."
"I'm not interested in recruitment," Kaelen said.
"Everyone says that. Then they see what we're offering, and they reconsider." Sarah's shadow magic began to manifest—darker and more controlled than typical cultist work. "But first, let's see what you can actually do."
She attacked without further warning.
Kaelen barely blocked her opening strike—she was *fast*, faster than most shadow mages he'd fought. Her blade wasn't a Forbidden Blade, but it was enhanced with shadow magic, cutting through his guard and forcing him back.
"Two alive," Lia reported quickly. "One dead. I can stabilize the wounded but not while fighting."
"Then don't fight," Kaelen said, parrying another of Sarah's strikes. "Protect them. I'll handle her."
"You're confident," Sarah observed, pressing her attack. "That's good. Marcus prefers confident recruits. They're easier to break."
Kaelen stopped blocking and started attacking. Ronan's training kicked in—aggressive offense, force the opponent to defend, find openings in their guard.
Sarah adapted smoothly, her defense as solid as her offense. They traded blows across the warehouse floor, neither gaining advantage.
"You're better than I expected," Sarah admitted. "Most Forbidden Blade wielders rely on raw power. You've got actual technique. Who trained you?"
"Wouldn't you like to know," Kaelen panted.
"I would, actually. Marcus offers excellent training programs for recruits. Your instructor might be interested."
She punctuated that with a shadow tendril from her off-hand—not from a blade, but from her own magic. It caught Kaelen across the ribs, not deep but painful.
*She can cast and fight simultaneously,* Soulrender warned. *Rare skill. Dangerous opponent.*
Kaelen created his own shadow tendril in response, using it to deflect her next attack while Soulrender targeted her blade.
"Oh, very nice," Sarah said, genuinely impressed. "You're developing independent abilities. That's advanced work. How long have you had your blade?"
"Long enough," Kaelen said.
"Weeks, I'd guess. Maybe two months maximum." Sarah's attacks came faster now, testing his limits. "Which means you're progressing extraordinarily fast. Marcus will definitely want you alive."
"He can want all he likes," Kaelen said. "Not happening."
He activated Soulrender's full power, shadow energy flooding through him. His speed doubled, his strength increased, his perception sharpened.
He also gained five new Shadow Scars in about ten seconds.
The trade-off was worth it. Kaelen's enhanced attacks broke through Sarah's defense, driving her back toward the stairs. She stumbled, barely caught herself—
And smiled.
"There it is," she said. "The corruption. You felt it, didn't you? That rush of power, that sense of invincibility. That's what Marcus offers—that feeling, controlled and amplified, without the eventual madness."
"You're lying," Kaelen said. "Shadow magic always corrupts. That's fundamental."
"Not with proper techniques," Sarah replied. "Marcus has methods. Ways to channel corruption out of your body into external vessels. You could use Soulrender forever without suffering permanent damage. Interested?"
She was lying. Had to be lying.
But she didn't sound like she was lying.
"Kaelen," Lia called from behind him. "Don't listen. It's recruitment tactics—promise impossible things to create doubt."
"Is it impossible?" Sarah asked. "Your partner there—she's developing echo-scars from trying to cleanse you, isn't she? How long until that kills her? Months? Weeks? Marcus could teach you both how to avoid that fate."
"At what cost?" Kaelen demanded. "Joining your cult? Helping release the Shadow Lord?"
"At the cost of opening your mind to new possibilities," Sarah said. "The Shadow Lord isn't a threat—he's an opportunity. A chance to rebuild the world's magical framework, eliminate the corruption at its source rather than just managing symptoms."
Cultists were closing in from all sides now. Kaelen counted at least fifteen, all armed, all trained.
They were outnumbered, outpositioned, and running out of time.
"Lia," Kaelen said quietly. "Can you get the wounded out?"
"Not while holding defensive barriers against fifteen cultists," Lia replied.
"What if you didn't have to hold barriers?"
"Then I could maybe evacuate one person. Not both."
One person was better than none.
"Do it," Kaelen ordered. "I'll buy time."
"Kaelen—"
"That's not a request."
Lia hesitated, then began preparing evacuation runes. The wounded Shadow Hunters started to glow with transportation magic.
Sarah watched with interest. "You're sacrificing yourself for them? How noble. Also how stupid. You could walk out of here with us, survive, keep fighting for whatever ideals you believe in. Instead you choose martyrdom."
"I choose keeping you from recruiting me," Kaelen said. "Because whatever Marcus is offering, the price is too high."
"The price is adaptation," Sarah said. "But if you prefer death to evolution, I won't stop you."
She signaled her cultists. They attacked as a coordinated unit—three from the front, four from the sides, two providing magical support from range.
Kaelen fought desperately, Soulrender moving in patterns he'd practiced a thousand times. He took down three cultists in the first exchange, wounded two more.
Not enough. Too many of them.
A blade got through his defense, cutting deep into his left shoulder. Another strike caught his leg. A third would have taken his head if Soulrender hadn't parried at the last instant.
Behind him, Lia's evacuation spell completed. The two wounded Shadow Hunters vanished in flashes of light—transported to safety.
Now it was just Kaelen and Lia against Sarah and at least a dozen cultists.
"Last chance," Sarah called out. "Surrender and live, or fight and die. Choose quickly—I'm on a schedule."
Kaelen looked at Lia. She was exhausted, her echo-scars dark and spreading. One more resonance armor activation would probably push her past recovery thresholds.
But they couldn't win conventionally.
"Together?" he asked quietly.
"Together," Lia confirmed, her hands already glowing.
They activated the resonance armor—full power, maximum output, throwing caution aside in favor of survival.
The hybrid energy exploded outward from both of them, a sphere of combined shadow and purification magic that knocked back every cultist in range. Sarah threw up emergency barriers and barely avoided being hit.
Kaelen moved while the cultists were disoriented. Not attacking—retreating. He grabbed Lia, ran for the back wall, and slammed Soulrender into the wall with all his enhanced strength.
The wall exploded outward, creating an exit.
They ran through it into the back alley.
Behind them, Sarah shouted orders, organizing pursuit.
"We can't keep running," Lia gasped. Her echo-scars were nearly black now, spreading up her neck toward her face. "Next activation will kill me."
"Then we don't activate it again," Kaelen said. "We just run until—"
A figure stepped out of the shadows ahead of them.
Not a cultist. Not City Guard.
Marcus Blackwood himself, both Forbidden Blades drawn.
"Remarkable performance," Marcus said conversationally. "Sarah's reports don't do you justice. You've grown significantly since our last encounter."
Kaelen skidded to a stop, pulling Lia behind him protectively.
Behind them, cultists poured out of the warehouse.
Trapped. Front and back, no escape routes.
"This is where I make my final offer," Marcus said. "Join us. I'll personally train you, teach you proper techniques, show you how to wield Soulrender without destroying yourself. Your partner can study under our best researchers, learn echo-scar management. You'll both survive, both grow stronger, both contribute to meaningful change."
"And if we refuse?" Kaelen asked, though he already knew.
"Then Sarah kills you both, I take Soulrender, and we proceed without you. The world changes regardless—you just won't be part of it." Marcus looked genuinely regretful. "I'd prefer not to waste your potential. But I'll accept that outcome if necessary."
Kaelen's mind raced. They couldn't fight Marcus. Couldn't run. Couldn't use resonance armor without killing Lia.
They were out of options.
Unless—
"I want proof first," Kaelen said. "You claim you can teach corruption management. Prove it. Show me someone who's wielded a Forbidden Blade for years without losing themselves."
Marcus smiled. "Reasonable request."
He sheathed Hearteater, extended his free hand, and let his shirt sleeve fall back.
His arm was covered in Shadow Scars. Hundreds of them. Maybe thousands.
But his eyes were clear. His voice was steady. His mind, as far as Kaelen could tell, was intact.
"I've wielded Hearteater for thirty-two years," Marcus said quietly. "I've accumulated more corruption than any living person except perhaps the Shadow Lord himself. And I remain completely, thoroughly human. Because I learned the techniques. Techniques I could teach you."
He rolled his sleeve back down.
"One hour," Marcus said. "Come to the old cathedral in one hour. Alone, or with your partner, your choice. I'll demonstrate proper technique, answer your questions, make my case. After that, you decide—join us, or die knowing what you've refused. Either way, you'll understand what I'm offering."
He turned and walked away into the shadows.
Sarah and her cultists melted back into the warehouse.
Just like that, Kaelen and Lia were alone in the alley.
"It's a trap," Lia said immediately.
"Obviously," Kaelen agreed.
"We can't actually go."
"Probably not."
They stood there, bleeding and exhausted.
"But what if he's telling the truth?" Kaelen said quietly. "What if there really are techniques we don't know? What if we could stop the corruption?"
"At the cost of joining his cult and helping release the Shadow Lord," Lia reminded him.
"Maybe. Or maybe we learn the techniques and then betray him."
"You don't think he's considered that possibility?"
"I'm sure he has. But what choice do we have? We're dying slowly. You've got weeks before echo-scars become permanent. I've got weeks before I lose my humanity entirely. If there's even a chance Marcus is telling the truth..."
"Then we walk into an obvious trap hoping to learn something before it kills us," Lia finished. "That's an absolutely terrible plan."
"You have a better one?"
Lia was quiet for a long moment.
"No," she finally admitted. "I don't."
They looked at each other, both understanding what they were considering.
One hour. One meeting. One chance to learn if salvation was possible.
Or one final trap that would kill them both.
"Together?" Kaelen asked.
"Together," Lia confirmed. "But Kaelen? If this goes wrong—if Marcus tries to convert us by force or trap us permanently—we fight our way out. Even if it means burning through my remaining activations."
"Agreed."
They had one hour to prepare for potentially the most dangerous meeting of their lives.
One hour to decide if desperate hope was worth risking everything.
One hour before they faced Marcus Blackwood and his impossible promises.
The clock was ticking.