MM - Chapter 209 - TRIAL BY FLIGHT

Raine returned to Carter with less than thirty minutes before the auction was scheduled to begin. However, he didn’t head straight there. He couldn’t. Like all the wealthiest locations in any real city, there was no exterior entrance on the ground floor. He would need a new ride, and it was already waiting for him when his taxi purred its way into the underground garage of Shillids—the city's premier destination for high-end fashion, style, and personal protection.

Raine rode his hoverchair toward the underground elevator bank, his thoughts a whirlwind of grandmaster politics and impending chaos. Thankfully, his immediate goal was simpler than preventing worldwide catastrophe: collect Mel and Pamalaiha.

As he arrived, a soft chime from a different elevator sounded, and metallic doors slid open. Raine heard Mel’s high, feminine giggle before they came into view. When the two women stepped out to find him only feet away, they froze in surprise. 

The world slowed to a crawl. The sight of them stole Raine’s ability to draw breath, leaving a hollow space where his composure had been. Mel was an ethereal vision. She wore a flowing white dress that floated around her, its simplicity perfectly accentuating her dancer’s grace. Her hair, freshly dyed a shimmering pink, caught the garage’s soft lighting, turning her positively radiant. Her smile was just as blinding, a beacon of cheerful anticipation for the night ahead.

Raine’s gaze was forcefully pulled to Pamalaiha, and the remaining air in his lungs vanished. She stood as a dark, crimson counterpoint to Mel’s luminescence. Jet-black hair was softly tousled above crystal-blue eyes that held a smoldering intensity. Her gown was a marvel of shimmering crimson that clung to her like a second skin. The fabric drank in the light, pulling her into impossibly sharp focus. The outfit, the color of her skin, and the delicate blush on her cheeks had a calculated lethality, a statement of aggressive beauty that left him momentarily powerless to look away.

Neither said a word as Raine stared, dumbstruck. Clearly, they were enjoying his stunned silence as much as he was enjoying the sight of them. Mel brought a hand to her mouth, another delighted giggle filling the air. Pamalaiha looked away first, the tint of her cheeks traveling down her neck in a devastating wave of color.

Raine cleared his throat, extending an arm to the side. “Ladies, our carriage awaits.”

“Yeah!” Mel struck a pose that didn’t at all fit her ensemble, then snatched Pamalaiha’s arm and dragged her toward the indicated hovoursine. Pamalaiha entered first, Mel waiting for Raine, which left him sandwiched between both women. It was possibly the most delicious sandwich he’d ever tasted.

The vehicle took off, quickly exiting onto crowded streets. With a soft hum, the autopilot lifted them from the congestion and into the stratified lanes of airborne traffic. Mel leaned close, whispering in Raine’s ear more than loud enough for everyone to hear. “It's a shame that things turned out the way they did. The three of us could have had so much fun tonight.”

Raine released an amused snort. “You would take advantage of a wounded man? Deplorable. Jokes aside, we’re going to have plenty of entertainment tonight. ZionLine auctions are never boring.”

Pamalaiha took Mel's earlier advice to heart. She shifted just as close and boldly looped an arm through Raine’s. The subtle pressure against his skin was a grounding sensation. “I wish to hear more of your ZionLine.”

Raine swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Of course. What do you want to know?”

“Mel mentioned classes,” Pamalaiha’s gaze returned to its usual unwavering directness, except now she was only centimeters away, entirely too close for a normalized heartbeat. “Do you believe there are any that would complement my skills?”

“Definitely,” Raine confirmed, his mind desperately shifting to strategies and systems he was familiar with. “Stealth and high burst damage are a potent combination, no matter the level. I can’t imagine anything that would fit you better.”

Her eyes widened subtly, keen interest reflected from their depths. “How fascinating. Please, tell me more.”

***

The queue of vehicles suspended in the night sky was several times longer than at the last auction. The wealthy and powerful had journeyed from well beyond Carter’s sphere of influence. They hoped not only to participate in ZionLine—the world's most talked-about phenomenon, but also to speak with the man who had defeated a full-fledged master in one of the most sensational duels in recent history.

Raine didn’t mind the wait. Wedged between two absolute bombshells, he was riding high in more ways than one. Mel’s infectious laughter was a perfect compliment to Pamalaiha’s raw intensity. She barely ever blinked, her attention so fixed on Raine’s lips that it was sometimes difficult to remember he was supposed to be speaking.

The distraction was welcome, keeping his thoughts from the grim realities of his meeting with Vought. Raine wrapped up a long-winded explanation of how weapon weights varied based on the location they were found. He then transitioned into a description of Qigong’s third form, and how it simplified the process of acclimatization.

As she had done after each point he made, Pamalaiha was quick with a follow-up question. “I do not understand. How could Qigong possibly be faster at adapting to differences in weight than simply training with the new weapon?”

Raine shook his head. “It’s not that simple. Some upgrades are so much heavier that you can’t train with them beforehand. Even if you could, you’ll be so much stronger by the time you equip them that your efforts will have gone to waste. The best method is to keep the brain, muscles, and nerves confused, forcing them into a state of constant adaptation. When you are finally ready for the new weapon, your body accepts it in no time.”

“I see. Then why—” Pamalaiha would never finish her question.

A spike of murderous intent from above sent a jolt through Raine’s senses. Both he and Pamalaiha snapped their heads up to look through the hovoursine’s wide sunroof. There was nothing to see. The sky was dark, a thin layer of clouds obscuring the stars.

Raine had only fought one actual battle using nothing but the sensations from his mental ability. The Patriarch of the Primal Realm had seared into his bones the harsh lessons of what happened when he ignored even the subtlest intent. 

This intent was not subtle. It was blazing death, approaching at blistering speed.

By the time Raine’s chin lifted, the rest of his body was already in motion. Internal force pulsed through his good arm and leg. Muscles contracted explosively, tearing past the safety thresholds the brain typically imposed. Raine’s fist slammed into the duraglass roof, shattering it into a spray of crystalline fragments. His foot stomped the floor, the rebound launching him out into the open air. 

Despite the damage, the car remained stationary in the traffic line, suspended nearly two hundred meters above the ground. Its crash alarm blared as wind whipped at Raine’s tuxedo. The details were inconsequential. 

Misty bloodlust tore free from his skin, coating the air above him. Six figures became impossibly obvious. A seventh entered his range before the first was even visible to the naked eye. They dove from the darkness, limbs tucked tight to their torsos, turning their bodies into humanoid missiles aimed directly at the vehicle’s engine. They wore suits as black as night, with fins connecting their limbs to their bodies. Raine would never fail to recognize CronGate’s airborne assault gear.

They were coming too fast; he’d responded too slowly. The first assassin would arrive before Raine’s shoes could land atop the car. This wasn’t ZionLine; there would be no Lunging on the air to reach the man. He would likely die by colliding with the engine compartment at such speed, but his efforts would send Mel, Pamalaiha, and Raine crashing to their deaths. 

Just because the assassin was out of reach didn’t mean he was out of range. A powerful punch sent Raine’s cast flying. It struck the assassin, who grunted as he was thrown off course and hurtled past the hovoursine, his target missed by inches.

The rest were right behind. Raine strained, stretching his legs down with all his might, but he couldn’t overcome Earthly physics. He wouldn't make it.

A feminine shout packed with violent intent erupted from below. Raine understood instantly. He kicked out, and the sole of his shoe connected with Pamalaiha’s extended fist. The impact sent him rocketing sideways. His casted foot swung around in a vicious arc, painfully smashing into the next assassin. His leg wasn’t healed enough for internal force, and the lack of power almost cost them everything. The man wasn’t thrown far enough and crashed bodily into the side of the car, dying instantly, but succeeding in tipping the vehicle onto its side.

Raine landed precariously, sidestepping immediately to end up on the passenger-side door of the rotating vehicle. An instant later, the next three assassins shot past on either side.

Whoosh-whoosh-whoosh.

Pamalaiha’s torso was still outside the shattered sunroof when the car flipped. The rotational force threw her into the open air. Its vertical thrusters, now firing sideways, slammed the car’s chassis into her, a brutal impact that saved her life. Frantic focus allowed her to grasp the lip of the broken sunroof with one hand. She didn’t scream. She didn’t make a sound. With the focus of one who had stared down death a thousand times, she clung tight, waiting for the vehicle to rebalance.

She never got the chance.

The next two assassins slammed into the hovoursine from above. They came in feet-first, arms spread so their fins caught the air and slowed their fall. Knees already bent for balance atop the wildly bucking vehicle, Raine was able to react instantly. He shufflestepped forward and drove a mighty blow into the nearest man’s midsection, sending him spiraling into the night.

The damage, however, was done. Not even a trained ninja could maintain her grasp on a bucking vehicle when the metal beneath her fingers tore free. There was no fear in Pamalaiha’s eyes as she fell. That was not the case for Mel, who screamed with all her might as her arm shot from the sunroof. Her fingers clamped around Pamalaiha’s wrist in a death grip.

The second assassin launched himself at Raine, intending to knock him from the vehicle. The class 3 disciple was far too slow. Raine pivoted, elbow lashing out to blast into the center of the man's face. His head snapped back with a wet crunch as something vital in his neck gave way.

The hovoursine spun beneath Raine’s feet as the AI finally made an attempt to right it. He ran against the spin, ending on top of the roof when it leveled out. Pamalaiha hooked her free foot on the exterior door handle and used the rotational force to flip herself up, landing beside him. At the same moment, the last two assassins touched down, crashing atop the vehicles in front of and behind them in the line.

More alarms blared as daggers filled the windy air; both men released in rapid succession. Their movements were clean, concise, and significantly faster than the others. Despite the masks, Raine knew them on sight. They were CronGate regulars, class 4 experts, and well-trained killers.

“Poison!” Raine shouted over the wind and the blaring alarms still loud in their ears. His hands flashed out, snatching the first two daggers from the air by their hilts. He took two low steps, then leaped from his good leg with a surge of internal force. He flew across the gap, the city streets a dizzying blur far below. Another pair of daggers sought to intercept him, but he expertly deflected them with the blades he had pilfered.

In a last-ditch effort, the assassin leaped with arms spread wide, aiming to tackle Raine in mid-air and drag them both down. Raine’s daggers were already in a reverse grip. He brought them down hard on the assassin’s shoulders, severing the tendons that controlled his arms. With a mighty heave, Raine pushed down and front-flipped over the human obstacle, simultaneously sending the man plummeting to his doom.

He crashed atop the other hovoursine, fingers sliding across smooth metal and glass before he came to a stop with both legs dangling over the edge. Raine launched himself to his feet to face the final threat, but the man was not there.

Pamalaiha stood in his place, a stolen dagger held loosely in her hand. She wore the most sultry, triumphant smile he had ever seen in either of his lives. Her armored dress wasn't even ruffled. She was the vision of a warrior goddess flying high in the sky.

Hot damn…