The Unmaker

Dahlia couldn’t dodge the spear in time.

Impact.

The butt of the spear rammed straight into her chestplate and sent her flying back into the windows. A gasp escaped her throat as she tore through her chair, her head whipping back against the tempered glass where she bounced off with a painful clang. Fireflies spun in her eyes. The whiplash blinded her, rang her eardrums like she was getting swirled away by a howling torrent, and were it not for Eria immediately injecting a small dose of adrenaline, she probably would’ve fainted right away.

[Get up, Dahlia!]

Alas, she was conscious. And awake. And by the time she managed a blink and raised her bracers to protect her face, making a futile attempt to block the second thrust flying straight at her chest–

A sharp cleave, a funnel of withered leaves, and a wooden flute thrown in the attacker’s general direction forced the boy to back off all the way to the broken doorway.

When her vision finally cleared and the twins dashed in to pull her onto her feet, she got a good look at the brown-skinned boy standing in the doorway. His bug-slaying student shawl was identical to theirs, draped in a wavy feather-like pattern across his left shoulder. Long and rough blood-splattered hair fell past his shoulders, tied together by a giant blue ribbon at the back of his head. The seemingly lax but guarding posture he took with his spear exuded the utmost poise—his tall frame giving him presence, his muscular limbs giving him weight, his dead-eyed stare giving him aura—and now, there was no doubt Issam’s intuition had been entirely on point.

There was an ominous being in the school, and he was the strongest of the fifth-year students, more powerful than any giant insect they could’ve run into.

“... Oh. It's just Raya,” Issam muttered, sheathing his new sword behind his back and breathing a heavy sigh. “I don't know what you're doing here when the shelter needs your help, but, like, watch it. Did you think we were bugs or something trying crawling through the armoury? Did you have to kick the door in like that–”

“All of your Swarmsteel,” Raya said, a dark and cutting voice. “Give them to me.”

…

Dahlia looked at Issam’s mantis scythes, at the twins’ moth mantles, and at Amula and Jerie still kneeling far away by the boxes of scrap as they stared back at Raya.

If Raya felt even the least bit uncomfortable being stared at by everyone, he didn't show it on his face. He was as bored and dreary-looking as ever, twirling his spear and raising it in Issam's direction.

“Your Swarmsteel,” he repeated. “Leave them here and go back to your shelter.”

“... And what were you doing here all alone?” Ayla muttered. “If you were alive, then why didn't you go to the shelter? Where the hell have you been this entire time?”

“Busy. Now leave your Swarmsteel here and go.”

“Where are the rest of our fifth-year classmates? There’s no way we’re the only ones left in–”

“I took them all out with my venom,” he said curtly. “Now leave your Swarmsteel here, and maybe I’ll feel like letting you go.”

Issam’s expression turned grim, and, falling so fast, even the twins and Dahlia’s faces went cold and distant.

Raya wasn’t usually one to make jokes like that. If it were the twins, she could maybe see how such a statement could be said as a feint just to stun their opponents, but there was a reason why Raya was called the godsent talent of bug-slaying, a genius never before seen in the history of Alshifa—he didn’t need to rely on feints and distractions to defeat his opponent.

So Issam continued staring at Raya through narrowed amber eyes, sunlight gleaming off his mantis scythes.

“You… killed the rest of our classmates?” Issam said, in a low voice. “Why?”

Raya’s blank expression didn’t change. “This is a Swarm invasion, and they were too weak to deal with it. They’re better off dead than being a hindrance.”

“Why are you here, then?”

“To grab any leftover Swarmsteel I could use for myself. I heard noises up here while I was in the second floor classrooms, though, so I came to check you guys out.”

“How’d you get past the beetle on the bridge?”

“I scaled the cliffs. It’s not very difficult if you’re a competent bug-slayer.”

Issam’s fist clenched around the hilt of his sword. “And what are you planning to do with the Swarmsteel you’re planning on taking on us.?”

“What none of you can do even if you’re all working together.” Raya cracked his neck loudly once, twice on the other side, before blinking pointedly at Issam. “I'm the strongest, so I’ll take down that lightning hornet in the Bazaar by myself.”

…

And that was the end of their conversation.

The boys’ stances solidified, their muscles sharp and tense. For a second, Dahlia thought they looked like the heroic bug-slaying figures in the tapestries outside the homeroom, wielding steel in their hands and wearing their hearts on their sleeves, ready to put their all into every breathing moment of their lives—and then everyone who could move, moved.

Issam drew his sword in the space between moments—mantis scythes sharpening it with serrated edges—and he sliced with the intent to maim. The twins darted to opposite corners, boots screeching against the ground as they jumped at Raya from behind. Dahlia, too, saw the glimmer of the steel thread twirling from the tip of her chisel to the tip of the hornet spearr; it was four versus one, a fight with a complete number’s advantage. She could dismantle Raya’s spear, the twins could sweep his legs out from under him, and Issam could sever a good finger or two.

But Raya didn’t agree with their plan.

In a single, smooth movement, he spun and whacked the twins’ chests with the blunt end of his spear before they could sweep his legs. His back was open to Issam’s attack, but he didn’t care to defend himself. He raised a free palm in Dahlia’s direction. There was a little pipe attached to his wrist, the rest of the weapon disappearing into his sleeves. Her spine tingled, the bristles on her bracers wavered—even Eria couldn't tell her to dodge in time before Issam had to lunge between them, twirling his sword to block the onslaught of hornet stingers that shot out Raya’s wrist-mounted crossbow.

Dahlia’s eyes widened as she rolled behind a tipped-over desk, using it as cover.

He has more than one Swarmsteel equipped? she thought. He did say he was here looking for Swarmsteel he could use, but I didn’t think he could equip more than–

But she didn’t have time to think. They’d all been taken by surprise enough that none of them saw him stepping past Issam—his footwork hidden within the golden sparks and flashes of hornet stingers being deflected by Issam’s blade—and it was only when he loomed over her desk with apathy in his eyes that she managed to blink.

“The rest of you are a bother,” he said plainly. “Don’t get between me and Issam’s fight.”

The blunt end of his spear came at her swinging, and she felt a soft crack in her ribs. Her chestplate still absorbed most of the impact, but she was still sent flying shoulder-first into another tipped-over desk. A jolt ran through her body as she cried out in pain. Issam was the only one standing at this point, and Raya’s brows furrowed as he turned to face the mantis swordsman, looking just the barest bit interested in his remaining opponent.

Then, Raya fired a stinger at the lever by the Instructor’s desk.

No.

That’s the–

The window shutters slammed down, firefly cages burst with light all around, and the fields of wooden poles began shifting up and down as more poles shot at them from every conceivable direction. Dahlia rolled to the edge of the room, and so did the haggard twins, but the two strongest students in school were more than used to this dance—the only way anyone could stay on their toes was if they could balance on the wooden poles five metres up in the air, and that was exactly what the boys were doing, trading blow after blow, parry and deflect, cutting up a storm of violent winds as they fought for a completely stupid reason.

They should be working together, not fighting and exhausting each other, but…even a combat amateur like Dahlia could tell that Issam was struggling to keep up with Raya’s speed.

Issam wasn’t winning.

The swordsman’s swings were wide and strong, but perhaps a bit too strong; he couldn’t shake his training against fighting giant dummy bugs, and the opponent in front of him was no bug at all. Raya wasn’t wearing armour beneath his shawl and tunic. A simple cut would wound him and take him out of the fight, but Raya was the only one who seemed to realise this—in comparison, the spearman’s thrusts were sharp and quick. Flighty and darting. His hornet spear stabbed only at Issam’s joints, and even worse, the stinger was most likely venom-laced. Issam certainly seemed to be breathing harder than usual, his movements more sluggish than usual.

Raya was the ‘Godsent Talent’ of the Bug-Slaying School, and Issam must’ve realised it himself as well, because on the one brief occasion he managed to whirl around and look down at Dahlia, he tilted his head at the seniors’ direction

…

She followed the tilt of his head and felt she knew exactly what he was asking her to do.

Eria, she thought, gritting her teeth. Is there a way I can pinpoint the exact location of a Swarmsteel even if I can't see it?

Eria appeared on her shoulder as she crawled onto her feet, ducking as a wooden pole shot out the wall behind her and tried to whack her head. [There are many reactions one can observe between Swarmsteel that come in contact with foreign materials, yes, but without knowing what you are looking for–]

It’s a beetle Swarmsteel, inlaid with a hundred small elytra and bits of gold-silver composite alloy, she thought, watching the seniors continue to rummage through the boxes of Swarmsteel as they ignored the fighting behind them. There should only be one of that Swarmsteel in this homeroom, somewhere inside those boxes. Is there a way for me to help Amula find her Swarmsteel?

[A beetle Swarmsteel…] Eria trailed off, and she slid away from a falling wooden pole as the boys’ fight raged on overhead. [If there is only one of it in this room, then there is, indeed, a surefire way to locate it.]

She sucked in a sharp breath and tried to calm herself.

She had to help somehow.

Tell me.

[It will require a strong light that reflects over eighty percent violet rays, and the light must be incredibly piercing if you want it to fall upon that particular Swarmsteel,] Eria said. [If the light does not reach, the Swarmsteel will not react and become temporarily bioluminescent–]

Strong light. Piercing light. Something came to mind immediately. She ripped the pocket watch off her waistband and overcranked the dial, turning it three, five, eight more times than it was designed to handle—but in one minute, if she could time the countdown correctly and toss it up into the middle of the room, she was sure it’d shine no less than the sun beyond the ceiling.

It was a single-use function, and one she’d always hoped she wouldn’t have to use because it’d definitely break her watch.

[But how will you get the violet rays?] Eria asked as she glanced at the twins, who were both taking cover behind tipped-over desks themselves, knowing they couldn’t directly help Issam against Raya. [It cannot be normal firefly light. If you do not refract it through something that can leave only violet rays, you cannot–]

Their mantles!

The twins snapped to attention when she snuck over and tapped their shoulder from behind. Aylee, naturally, tried to jerk away when she started lifting her chisel as though trying to dismantle their mantles in front of them.

“Dahlia! What are you–”

“I have to borrow! A piece!” she said, breathless, falling over just to stop Aylee from jerking any further away; she needed enough moth fabric to cover the firefly bulb on her watch completely. “Can’t explain, but it’ll help Amula find her Swarmsteel! Quick! Not much time!”

If it were yesterday, the twins might not be so willing to just let her carve up their mantles, but now things were a little different. They didn’t resist—they even helped her scrape the chitin scales off their mantles, making it easier for her to follow the steel thread as she cut out pieces of moth fabric with her chisel.

Their mantles are made out of angle moth parts, right? she thought, managing to cut out two palm-sized pieces of fabric. Lepidoptera order insects, including butterflies and moths, exhibit violet patterning on their wings, meaning certain violent rays can be refracted if you shine a light through them!

[... How did you learn about this?]

[It is only a recent discovery on the surface, no more than two decades ago. No undertown textbook should have contained information on the violet ray refracting properties of lepidoptera insects, so who taught you–]

Ten seconds left. A small fire was sparking inside the small firefly bulb, so she wrapped the moth wing fabrics around it once, twice, thrice more just to be sure—and then she chucked the watch right into Raya’s face, right as the timer went ding.

Then, it turned into a bang.

An explosion of heat and light shattered the windows, sent watch components flying everywhere, and gusts of winds whistled across the homeroom to clear the dust kicked up by Issam and Raya’s fight. Naturally, the twin hissed and winced away from the sudden burst of light, but Dahlia was prepared. She hadn’t known just how bright, exactly, her watch was going to flare before exploding, but in that one instant where the homeroom was washed aglow with waves of soft, violet light—there was something that glowed back within the boxes of scrap.

A particular beetle Swarmsteel.

“... Now every giant bug below the school knows we’re here, idiot.”

She was just about to shout and point in the direction of the Swarmsteel when Raya fell behind her, and then the blunt end of a spear smashed into the top of her head. Her brain rattled. Her world flipped upside-down. If she wasn’t already dizzy and disoriented enough from having been thrown around the past few minutes, this attack demolished the strength in her knees and sent her tumbling over. Issam blurred down a moment later to bat Raya away from her, but the damage had already been done; she wouldn’t be standing straight for at least the next ten minutes while she clutched her head and tried not to cry.

It hurts.

Eria… mama… it hurts–

“The hell’s the matter with you, man?” Issam snapped, his sword going left, right, down, a straight thrust aimed at Raya’s heart; none of his attacks landed. Raya’s wrist-mounted crossbow kept him from charging in recklessly, and the hornet spear’s range kept his slashes at bay. “Great Makers, if you don’t want to work with us, then just leave us alone! Why the hell are we even fighting each other?”

“My speartip is constantly dull from all the bugs I’ve been slaughtering,” Raya said idly. “I need the mantis whetstone scythes of the second strongest if I want to beat that lightning hornet by myself. I need to be able to sharpen my spear mid-fight.”

“... Second strongest?”

Somehow, Issam found the strength and time to laugh sardonically—and Raya paused for a moment, leaping atop a wooden pole as Issam smirked up at him.

“I'm not the second strongest, Raya,” he said. “You wouldn’t want the Swarmsteel belonging to the third strongest student in school, would you?”

Raya shrugged. “Second strongest, third strongest, it doesn’t matter. I will draw out your scythes’ maximum potential–”

“Because you’re the strongest?”

The second laugh that bubbled out Issam’s mouth was quite unfitting, and honestly quite jarring—Dahlia had never heard him laugh like that before.

Issam?

What are you–

“You’ve made a grave mistake, then,” Issam said, his arms giving out as he let his blade fall to the ground. “She may not look like it during sparring, and you may think just because she was held back a year that she’s nothing special, but in an all-out fight where she can use everything in her environment to beat down her opponent, I’d say she’s just a little bit stronger than the both of us.” Then he sat down with a loud groan, making a show of grinning up at Raya. “In a real battle, she’s the strongest.”

…

Raya blinked.

“You’d discredit all your efforts with your mantis scythes just like that?” he scoffed, shaking his head in dismay. “Nonsense. Get up. You and I, we’re the talents of the ninety-fifth generation of Alshifa’s bug-slayers. You and I are–”

And someone jumped at Raya’s shoulder like a javelin, accompanied by a flash of fire—all but one wooden pole snapped as the third fighter kicked Raya down into the Instructor’s desk, through the desk, before he managed to stab his spear into the floor to halt his momentum.

But his spear was trembling.

His wrists were quivering lightly.

Blood dribbled down his lips, and his eyes narrowed into dark slits as everyone turned to stare up at the true strongest student in the school.

“... Yer wasting our time,” Amula growled, as she balanced atop the wooden pole he’d been standing on and tightened the straps on her winged beetle boots—her bright orange eyes burning in Raya’s direction. “Get out of our way.”