right to prevent him from taking risks. He wouldn’t want me to, and I respected that.
He swung my scythe around a couple of times, getting a feel for the handle’s grip and the weight of its blade. I liked the sound it made as it cut through the air, like faint whispers promising Hadras his own personal doom. The Ghoul Reaper had no idea what he was doing when he challenged my husband, and the thought brought a faint smile to my lips.
“Don’t let the husband scare you,” Deas chuckled, taking his seat on the steps again. His brothers joined him, though Eneas remained standing, nowhere near as relaxed as the others. I had a feeling he knew the odds weren’t fully in Hadras’s favor, but it was too late for him to withdraw the proposal. “He’s still just flesh and bones.”
“I know. The head will come off,” Hadras replied, circling Tristan several times, grip tightening on his half-moon scythe. “Sooner or later.”
I didn’t say another word, instead taking a few steps back to allow my husband the room he needed. It was his time now, and he knew he had my full support. Tristan had often said it was all he’d ever need.
“Ready to die?” Hadras asked.
Tristan shot him a cold grin. “Unending and I have been married for twenty years. What do you think I’ve learned from her in the span of those two decades?”
The question was so simple, yet the answer so rich, that Hadras didn’t immediately pick up on it. Just as well. Tristan bolted toward him, swinging my scythe across the Ghoul Reaper’s chest. Hadras only had a split second to pull back before the blade sliced through him.
He looked surprised, if not offended. “You’re bold,” Hadras muttered.
“Just eager to kick your ass,” Tristan replied, looking to anger him. He knew that a furious opponent would be weak and prone to mistakes.
Hadras came at him with enough strength to make me hold my breath. Tristan dodged his half-moon blade and swerved around, bringing my scythe out in response. He cut into Hadras’s side, pure light bursting from the wound. The Ghoul Reaper screamed from sheer pain, while the others shot to their feet and joined Eneas at the bottom of the temple’s steps. They were shocked, but quiet.
Tristan was light on his feet and ruthless. The fight excited him, and he bore his fangs at Hadras just to drive his point home—that he was not to be trifled with. The Ghoul Reaper reacted by charging at my husband, roaring furiously as he brought the half-moon down with both hands.
Please, let him win.
Hadras missed my husband by a hair’s thickness. I almost felt the blade myself. Tristan ducked and dodged the following slew of attacks. He spent about five minutes doing just that—pulling back, lowering himself, leaning backward, and generally using as little energy as possible—while Hadras unleashed his wrath with these attacks.
Clang! Suddenly, Tristan had my scythe up. He parried the ensuing blows with light-handed movements. Yes, he’d learned a lot from me. We’d often trained together, especially early in the morning when the sun was still rising. I’d described many of my battles before, as well as my memories of war and violence as an Aeternae incarnation. He’d listened, and he’d registered every useful detail. That much was obvious here.
“Come on, Hadras!” Eneas shouted, unable to hide his anxiety anymore. If he’d been optimistic about the outcome before, he was clearly worried at this point, unable to take his eyes off the melee.
Hadras felt encouraged by his brothers, who soon joined Eneas’s cheers. “You can do it!” Filicore added, and Hadras grunted as he went after Tristan again.
He swung left but stopped at the very last second, then dropped and went straight for my husband’s knees. Tristan jumped, and Hadras came up with a lateral leg kick that threw him onto his side. He fell hard, and I grimaced, feeling his pain. The Ghoul Reaper moved to deliver the killing blow, bringing the half-moon blade down.
Tristan shifted onto his back and scrambled backward as Hadras kept hitting the ground, snarling as the wound in his side glowed brighter with every movement. It was a peculiar sight to behold, and I wasn’t sure what it meant, but I was thankful Tristan could do something to aggravate the Ghoul Reaper.
I covered my mouth with both hands as Hadras went straight for his head. Tristan rolled to the right and finally got back up.
“Okay, I’ve had enough