Azad bolted for the ruins the instant I flew away but didn’t forget to slice at me with a whip of nothingness a kilometer long, halting me long enough for me to see him kneel in front of the entrance and say, “Mudscape!” his voice resounding in my ears even though I was far away.

I took about fifty potshots at him while he did, and by the time he was finished with his spell, I could see his face.

He was gritting his teeth.

A large portion of the mountain began to melt, slowly turning to mud.

He muttered to himself, too far for me to hear, then shot towards me. He weaved through the rocks I shot at him, then sliced at me with his whip.

He was getting more precise with it, occasionally forming new whips just outside my Psi-negation field, giving me even less room to work with. I burst away as fast as I could, falling nearer to the ground so I could use my telekinesis on the trees.

He swept at me over and over with his whip while commanding pebbles to strike at me, forcing me to fly so fast that it all became a blur.

“Ice Spike!” I heard.

I had to dodge a hypersonic spike of ice that materialized in front of him.

“Tree Mower.”

A thin blade of steel, fifty meters across, flew towards me just like the last attack but faster and more deadly than any other one he’d thrown.

I dodged it, but a barrage of pebbles pelted me.

“Ice Enbumberance”

Ice began to form around my barrier, the spell interacting strangely with my psychic powers. It clouded my vision, forcing me to let my barrier go for just a moment to unstick it.

“Instant Flame.”

Right beside me, a small, stationary, but dangerous fire set ablaze a half-meter from me, beneath where my shield had been. I careened to the ground to dodge it but reimposed my barrier to block a pebble headed straight towards me.

In the process of blocking it, the flame hit my shield from the inside and exploded. I blocked myself as best I could with a cushion of air, but I couldn't focus on my flight and tumbled across the ground, battering my mind even more. Static began to form on the outskirts of my vision, the mental strain of everything finally getting to me.

For a moment afterward, I couldn’t focus at all.

Then, Azad was right next to me, one hand outstretched towards my psychic barrier and another forming a whip of nothingness above me.

“Shotburst Strike,” he said, his eyes piercing and ruthless.

Realizing I could only dodge one attack in time, I braced myself against whatever spell would hit, soaring to the side.

Dozens of metal bullets materialized in his hand, which followed my movement, while his other cut down where I would have stood.

The bullets shot towards me and impacted.

Then, my shield shattered.

The world spun, nausea splitting my skull.

I had failed.

Azad skirted to a stop not far away and began to spout some words to no audience.

I hadn’t been given the opportunity to think about the people stuck beneath the collapsing mountain, their possible death caused by the opportunity I gave my foe.

I had no time to ruminate about how foolish I had been and hadn’t been given the luxury of doubt. And, now, I was left without the ability to think.

The person who happened to be me, Psychi, watched, braindead, as a boy flapped his lips in front of her.

Trees broke and fell all around with no rhyme or reason while the boy kneeled in front of Psychi and the boy kept talking. The boy’s lips curled into a curve like a C. Then, Psychi attacked him with a tree. The boy looked shocked and hurt, a hand on his chest in pain. He continued to smile, though, probably humored.

But Psychi was not humored, and Psychi continued to shoot trees at him and the boy was thrown to the side, and the boy now looked angry as more trees pelted him. Then, the boy raised his arm, and Psychi was sad and scared, so she attacked him with more trees.

Psychi loved trees and didn’t like destroying them. Then, the man pushed Psychi against a tree, scowling as wood hit his barrier. Psychi knew she was going to die.

Then, another man Psychi didn’t recognize flew in while the boy was distracted, and then that man attacked him with a sword, and lightning shot into the sword, and then the boy tumbled away...

Zerith was enveloped in electricity as he clashed with The Monster King. He sent the tyrant flying and crashing through trees with his powerful blow but could tell he would be back up in no time, even weakened as he was.

What had he just witnessed? The woman, looking up at him with a confused, vague expression, had been a match for The Monster King. Even when she was on the ground, seemingly defeated, he had watched as the whole forest attacked the king, entire trees cracking and shooting towards him faster than the eye could see, with seemingly no prompting. She had turned the area around her into a wasteland of broken trees and stumps so quickly that even with his full power, the king had been driven back, if only from surprise.

Was she...a ‘Psychic’?

Zerith quickly flew to the girl, picked her up in a princess position, then dodged to the side as a black whip flung at him. He had already fought this child from before he’d lost his psychic powers, so while Zerith was hopelessly outmatched, he wouldn’t be taken aback by any attack he had up his sleeve. In front of the king’s hand, a barrier of white light materialized, prepared to block any magic coming his way -his signature magic.

“You again!?” the Monster King screamed in annoyance, charging forward with immense speed in an attempt to dispel Zerith’s ‘Ultra Fly’ spell by contacting him with the anti-magic field. Apparently, he had few words to throw about this time. He wanted this woman dead, and Zerith wasn’t having it.

Zerith flew up as pebbles and air from all around attempted to blast him aside or kill him instantly. And although the ‘Cold Wave’ spell he’d cast beforehand kept most of the smaller things at bay, slowing the materials and wind down when they got within a meter of his body, Zerith had to dodge the larger particles, typically by a hair’s breadth.

As the child threatened to rid him of the spell with his antimagic barrier, Zerith’s signature magic, floating stones with minds of their own, which conducted electricity between themselves and his weapon, moved to a more advantageous position behind the king. He shifted the girl in his arms to then met the child’s charge head-on with his sword awkwardly outstretched while he yelled, “Buzz Strike!” as he did, creating two large and quite deadly blades of grass from his other hand, which followed a predetermined movement, curving around the antimagic field the tyrant kept in front of him and threatening him on his two other flanks.

The tyrant, knowing he couldn’t defend against more than one attack at once, gritted his teeth and decided to nullify Zerith’s signature and strongest magic, sticking to his guns. He should have known that wouldn’t work, but the king seemed just a bit too hurt to think straight.

The grass, however, was a mere distraction. He couldn’t possibly break through his barrier with such weak magic, but if it gave the king just a moment of pause, that would bring Zerith enough time to escape.

Zerith said, “Duststorm!” and dove down before they collided, avoiding the antimagic field as dust began to appear and float about the area, blocking the combatant’s sight. He heard Buzz Strike hit the Monster King as he flew away within the cloud, faster than the telekinetically created wind could blow away the shroud while putting a hand over his face to guard against the airborne sand.

The Monster King was a fighter, though and through, but he wasn’t a tracker. To Zerith, it was strange that the king hadn’t anticipated his move, given how cunning he had proved to be in other skirmishes, but Zerith wouldn’t complain about the villain acting dumb.

He admitted it wasn’t very hero-like to fly away from danger the instant the chance revealed itself, but he knew when to cut his losses. If the girl was on his side, she might end up as his next greatest weapon against the king in the future.

Not asking questions, Zerith flew away under the cover of the trees, escaping the Living Catastrophe as swiftly as he’d arrived. Whatever would happen to the rogue group he had come to talk to may have been a tragedy but was an unavoidable sacrifice.

Saving the world from evil, after all, required fighting back with a bit of fire.