The first spider monkey died mid-scream.
Klaus's rifle cracked once, the sound sharp and oddly flat against the canyon's vastness. The leading creature's head snapped back, its body carried forward even as life left it. It tumbled straight down, hit the road, and vanished beneath the wagon wheels with a wet, bone-jarring crunch.
The wagon lurched violently.
Wood groaned. Metal rattled. Shalotte and Petra yelped inside.
Shane tightened the reins by instinct, posture unchanged, gaze still forward.
"Careful," he said mildly. "My wagon just got furnished up lately."
Klaus didn't acknowledge him. He simply adjusted his stance on the roof, boots planted wide to counter the sway, and fired again.
Another screech cut off midair.
A second monkey fell, slamming into the canyon wall before sliding down in a limp heap. A third followed, then a fourth. Klaus's movements were minimal—no wasted motion, no flourish. He fired, chambered, fired again, expression unmoved as if he were swatting insects rather than killing monsters.
Beside him, Kiel was vibrating with energy.
"I got one!" he shouted, already drawing another arrow.
His bowstring snapped. The arrow punched cleanly through a monkey's chest and pinned it briefly to the rock face. Kiel laughed when it slid down, limp, and nearly lost his footing as the wagon bounced again.
Inside the wagon, the chaos felt louder.
The canyon amplified everything—the shrieks, the gunfire, the thuds of bodies hitting stone. Shadows flickered across the walls as shapes leapt and fell from above.
Maddy braced herself against the wagon's side and glanced at Shalotte.
He stood rigid near the center, staff clenched in both hands. The glow at its tip wavered, pulsing unevenly. His breathing was shallow; his shoulders tight.
"Shalotte," Maddy said, steady but urgent. "Cover us."
He blinked, swallowed, then nodded.
"R-right."
'Gravity Fall'.
Purple light bloomed outward from his staff, washing over the wagon and its occupants. The sensation hit instantly—an odd lightness, like the world had loosened its grip.
Maddy tested it with a small hop. Her boots barely dipped.
"Good."
She kicked open the wagon's back door. Wind and dust rushed in.
"Let's go."
She jumped.
For half a heartbeat, she skidded through open air, boots scraping nothing. Then gravity bent around her. With a sharp twist, she launched upward—ten meters at least—straight toward the descending swarm.
"Aetherblade"
Her daggers ignited with mana. The blades elongated into translucent arcs that hummed softly as she moved.
A monkey lunged at her, claws spread wide.
Maddy slipped past it, expression focused, almost calm. She planted a foot against its shoulder and used the creature as a springboard, launching herself forward. Her dagger flashed once.
The monkey split apart before it could even scream.
She didn't stop.
She landed briefly on another creature's back, kicked off, spun midair, and sliced through a third. Each motion flowed into the next—jump, cut, pivot—her body moving like it had rehearsed this exact chaos a thousand times.
In less than a second, nearly a dozen spider monkeys were reduced to shredded pieces raining down behind her.
Petra followed.
She jumped higher.
Her scythe carved a wide, brutal arc through the air, cleaving through three monkeys in a single swing. The momentum carried her forward, boots barely touching stone as she twisted and brought the blade around again.
Blood sprayed. Petra grimaced—not from disgust, but tension. Her jaw was tight beneath her helm, grip firm as she forced herself to keep moving.
On the wagon roof, Shalotte landed awkwardly beside Kiel and Klaus, knees bending too far before he caught himself.
He glanced at Klaus, attempting a nervous smile.
"Care to have me here?"
Klaus didn't turn his head.
"Do you want me to kick you out?"
Shalotte stiffened.
"No."
"Then stay."
Shalotte nodded quickly, relief flashing across his face.
"Stone Pillar."
The canyon answered him.
A jagged column of stone erupted from the cliffside, tearing free with a thunderous crack. It slammed into a cluster of monkeys and hurled them through the air like broken dolls—straight toward Petra.
She flinched, boots skidding half a step back at the cliff wall as instinct took over.
"Moon Blade."
Silver light traced the curve of her scythe as she spun, planting one foot and pivoting hard. The blade sang once, clean and cold. The airborne bodies were cut apart mid-flight, pieces scattering before they ever reached her. Petra exhaled shakily, tightened her grip, and reset her stance—eyes already searching for the next threat.
On the roof, Klaus's rifle clicked.
Empty.
"Tch. I already spent all of them."
He glanced at it, unimpressed, and dismissed it back into his mindforger. Two revolvers materialized in his hands, their dull metal catching the dim canyon light.
"Three reloads each," he muttered. "Then I'm done. I'm not wasting my silvers on pests."
He fired.
The revolvers barked louder than the rifle, recoil snapping against his wrists. Klaus barely reacted. Each shot dropped a monkey mid-leap, bodies folding and falling like cut marionettes.
Kiel paused mid-draw, eyes glued to the guns.
"That's cool," he said breathlessly. "Can I have one of those, Mr. Klaus?"
"Sure," Klaus replied flatly, firing again. "One reload costs a gold."
Kiel blinked.
"That's expensive."
"Making it costs coins," Klaus said. "Especially the ammunition. If you don't want to buy it, don't. I'm not forcing you."
Kiel hesitated, then leaned closer.
"…Can I get a discount?"
"Nine silver per reload," Klaus said. "If you want, I can let you test it."
Kiel's face lit up. It's not a big discount, just a silver coin off, but he is still thrilled to test it.
"Really?"
Klaus tossed one revolver into the air—and in the same motion, materialized another. He flicked the fresh one toward Kiel, then caught the first as it fell.
At that exact moment, a monkey lunged.
Kiel reacted on instinct. He loosed his arrow—which sailed wide—and caught the revolver with his free hand.
The arrow missed.
Kiel didn't care.
He stared at the gun, feeling its weight, the balance settling naturally into his grip. It felt… right.
Without looking, Klaus said,
"Just aim. Press the trigger."
Kiel aimed.
Bang.
The monkey dropped instantly.
The recoil slammed into Kiel's arm, nearly knocking the gun from his grip. He yelped, then laughed, eyes wide and bright.
"That was amazing."
"I'll buy it," he said immediately.
Klaus glanced at him.
"Are you sure?"
"Yes."
"I'll ask a blacksmith to make you something better." He couldn't give Kiel a mindforged gun. He needed to build him a real one.
Kiel nodded furiously and fired again.