The gas lamps swayed violently.
The night mist rolled through the streets.
None of the three spoke another word.
The air was as tense as a fully drawn bowstring.
In the next second, the Edge-man moved first.
Boom!
The stone paving exploded beneath his feet.
His entire body transformed into a dark blur, hurtling forward.
He was even faster this time.
He was finally holding nothing back.
Both bone blades deployed simultaneously.
The pale white blades carved intersecting arcs through the mist.
His target was still Simon.
Evidently, the Heart aspect ability from earlier had made him wary.
Ryan's eyes narrowed.
His Lantern's glow surged frantically.
The entire world instantly slowed down.
The wind's direction, the puddles, and the angle of force from the Edge-man's shoulders—everything was broken down and analyzed.
An instant before the Edge-man clashed with Simon, Ryan finally seized his chance.
Deep within his left eye, the spark of the Lantern compressed violently.
Then, it unleashed.
Hum—
A blinding white light suddenly tore through the night.
It was unlike fire, and unlike lightning.
It was a beam of pure, highly compressed light.
Boom!
The beam erupted from Ryan's eye, piercing through the night mist and striking the Edge-man squarely in the back.
Time seemed to pause for a fraction of a second.
In the next instant, a massive chunk of flesh exploded.
Splat—
A mist of blood erupted from the front of the Edge-man's chest.
His body shuddered violently, and he stumbled forward before crashing heavily to the ground.
The earth trembled slightly from the impact.
The night fell silent.
Ryan panted heavily, his face turning instantly pale.
That single strike had nearly drained most of his Lantern's glow.
Simon was also stunned for a moment.
He clearly hadn't expected Ryan to be capable of such an attack.
A few seconds later, quiet returned to the street.
Only the low wail of the ship's horn from the distant port echoed slowly.
The Edge-man lay prone on the ground, motionless.
A massive wound had been blasted into his back, even exposing shattered bones.
Blood pooled continuously around him.
By all appearances, he was dead.
Simon frowned.
He didn't approach immediately, choosing instead to observe from where he stood.
Dozens of seconds passed, and there was still no movement.
Ryan slowly exhaled a breath.
“Is it over?”
Simon didn't answer.
He merely stared at the corpse.
As an experienced extraordinary being, his instincts told him this was a little too easy.
Yet, the injuries before them made survival seem utterly impossible.
Finally, he stepped forward.
One step.
Two steps.
Three steps.
The gaslight flickered over the corpse.
Blood flowed slowly along the cracks in the stone paving.
There was no breathing.
There was no heartbeat.
Everything was over.
Simon reached the corpse and slowly crouched down, preparing to confirm the kill.
But at that very moment, Ryan suddenly noticed something amiss.
Within his Lantern's glow vision, extremely faint, grayish-white powder seemed to be drifting around the corpse.
It was the scale-dust shed from moth wings.
It was incredibly faint, so faint that it had been completely unnoticeable during the heat of the battle.
Moth?
Ryan's pupils contracted.
In the next second, a sudden mutation occurred.
The blasted flesh on the corpse's back suddenly began to squirm.
Without any warning, a face—a face concealed within the back—abruptly snapped its eyes open.
It was a completely unfamiliar face.
Pale.
Contorted.
The corners of its mouth were split all the way to its ears.
And in that instant, Ryan understood.
The strike just now hadn't killed him.
Because it hadn't hit the main body at all.
In the center of that face was a massive, gaping hole—the very wound left by the Lantern's glow.
White smoke was still drifting from its edges.
Evidently, the strike had originally been aimed at the heart, but some Moth aspect ability had redirected it.
The injury was real, but the death was a deception.
“Simon!” Ryan roared.
But it was too late.
Boom!
The corpse on the ground sprang up instantly, moving with the speed of a pouncing beast.
A long-hidden third bone blade suddenly shot out from beneath its ribs.
Splatter!
Blood splattered.
Simon was impaled clean through.
The bone blade drove in from his lower back and protruded from his abdomen.
Blood instantly dyed his coat crimson.
“Dammit—” Simon roared.
Yet his reaction was incredibly fast.
Even after sustaining such a devastating blow, he still brought his cane down with immense force.
Boom!
The Edge-man's head was smashed to the side, his skull letting out a cracking sound.
Yet he didn't retreat at all.
Instead, the face hidden on his back let out a bizarre, mocking laugh.
Suddenly, countless moths swarmed out.
They fluttered their wings in unison.
The mist on the street began to churn.
Grayish-white scale-dust scattered through the air.
Ryan finally understood.
This wasn't just a simple Edge aspect.
This guy also possessed the Moth aspect.
And he had hidden it incredibly deep.
The night mist rolled.
The gaslight grew hazy amidst the grayish-white scale-dust.
Simon clutched his abdomen and retreated slowly, blood dripping continuously through his fingers.
A small, dark-red pool had already gathered on the ground.
In the middle of the street, the Edge-man stood tall once more.
Or, to be more precise, it was two people.
Only now did Ryan finally see the creature's true form.
The body remained tall, standing nearly six and a half feet.
His arms were covered in pale bone armor, with bone blades extending all the way from elbow to wrist—like a pair of natural swords.
And his back was split open by a massive wound.
The spine was exposed, the flesh peeled back.
A pale human face grew right there.
The upper body of another person had been forcibly stuffed into this body.
In the center of that face's forehead was a charred hole—the exact wound left by the Lantern's glow just now.
Yet, it was still not dead.
It slowly opened its eyes, the corners of its mouth splitting bit by bit into a manic, twitching grin.
“Lantern...”
“That really hurt...”
The voice came from the back, yet spoke in perfect unison with the Edge-man in front.
The two voices overlapped.
Ryan's heart sank slightly.
This was no longer a simple extraordinary being.
It was some kind of monster modified through a ritual.
Simon spat out a mouthful of bloody phlegm and glared at the opponent.
His expression turned exceptionally grim.
“A Soul-Stitcher.”
This was the first time Ryan had heard the term.
“What?”
Simon didn't explain immediately.
Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on the face on the Edge-man's back.
After a few seconds, he spoke in a low voice.
“A madman from the Lore.”
“Moth and Edge both belong to the fringe Principles.”
“One pursues change, while the other pursues harm.”
“It is completely impossible for a normal person to accommodate both paths at the same time.”
“Because their soul would collapse first.”
The wind swept down the street.
Simon's voice grew lower and lower.
“So, some people found another way.”
“Since one soul cannot bear it, they use two.”
Ryan understood instantly.
And right then, the face on the back suddenly laughed.
It laughed with increasing glee.
“How nostalgic...”
“It's been so many years since anyone recognized this...”
The Edge-man's body slowly raised its head.
Those pitch-black eyes remained icy, forming a stark contrast with the madness on his back.
Two people were forcibly locked within a single body.
One was responsible for thinking, while the other was responsible for going mad.
Simon continued:
“These things appeared during the colonial wars of the past.”
“Some cultists would perform the Soul-Stitching Ritual.”
“They would stitch together the souls of two people who followed different Principles.”
“Sharing dreams.”
“Sharing a body.”
“Sharing death.”
“The one who survived in the end... is this kind of monster.”
Ryan finally understood.
Why the blow just now hadn't killed him.
When the Lantern's glow pierced the body, the portion of the Moth aspect had actively absorbed part of the fatal damage.
It acted as a surrogate.
And as a deception.
This was highly consistent with the Principles of Moth.
Change.
Disguise.
Deception.
Escape.
Death itself was something that could be deceived.
And right then, the face on the back suddenly spoke.
“He is wrong.”
The voice carried a manic, twitching amusement.
“It isn't just two people.”
Simon's pupils contracted slightly.
In the next second, the face slowly split open, spewing some kind of grayish-white substance from its mouth.
And on the surface of that mass, a third, blurry human face actually emerged.
Extremely faint.
Extremely contorted.
A chill instantly shot down Ryan's spine.
“Three?”
The face on the back laughed even more gleefully.
“There were originally three.”
“But then one died.”
“What a pity.”
Simon's face changed completely.
“Lunatic...”
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