Chapter 17: The Crow’s Truth

The cavern shuddered under the weight of fire and ruin, the cannon’s blast leaving a haze of smoke and splintered stone as Kade Shen staggered to his feet, the saber gleaming bloody in his grip. Both orbs—his pure, Vane’s twisted—pulsed in his pack, their clashing hums a storm in his chest. Lila Mei rose beside him, her stick cracked but clutched tight, blood streaking her face from a fresh cut above her eye. The stronghold’s heart raged—Red Talon regrouping, rifles barking, the outcasts’ three survivors pinned near the tunnels, their arrows and axes dwindling against the tide. Vane loomed through the smoke, a black shadow unbroken, his jagged blade raised, eyes burning with fury.

“Shen!” Vane roared, voice a thunderclap over the chaos. “You’ll bleed for that!”

Kade tightened his grip, saber up—ready to charge, to end it—when a sharp whistle cut the din, high and piercing, echoing off the cavern walls. The Crow surged from a side tunnel, his tattered coat flapping like wings, curved blade flashing as he carved through two Red Talon guards—throats slit, bodies dropping silent. His gray-streaked hair whipped wild, his black eyes locked on Kade, a grin sharp as his steel.

“Move, pup!” the Crow barked, rolling under a rifle shot, coming up beside Kade and Lila. “Vane’s yours—this ends now!”

Kade spun, saber slashing a guard who lunged too close—blood sprayed, the man crumpling—then faced the Crow, breath ragged. “You again—why?”

“Truth,” the Crow said, parrying a machete swing, his blade a blur. “Starfall’s mine—last of ‘em, like Jian. Been tracking Vane since he broke us.” He kicked the attacker back, steel sinking into the man’s gut, and turned to Kade, eyes fierce. “That orb’s our heart—he twists it, we’re dust. You’re the spark, Shen—finish it.”

Lila ducked a rifle butt, stick cracking the guard’s jaw, and shot the Crow a glare. “Starfall? You’re one of ‘em?”

“Was,” the Crow grunted, slashing another Red Talon down—blood arced, staining his coat. “Fought with Jian, ‘til Vane burned us out. Hid, watched—now I’m here.” He nodded at Kade’s pack. “Two orbs—pure and dark. Use ‘em, or we’re all dead.”

Vane charged through the smoke, blade swinging—a brutal arc aimed at Kade’s chest. The Crow shoved him aside, taking the blow—steel bit his shoulder, blood welling, but he countered, curved blade slashing Vane’s arm. The warlord snarled, staggering, and Kade lunged—saber arcing, cutting Vane’s thigh, a deep gash that slowed him. The dark orb pulsed in Vane’s grip, shadows lashing out—tendrils snapping, one coiling around the Crow’s leg, yanking him down.

“Get the altar!” the Crow yelled, hacking at the shadow, his blade sparking off stone. “Break the runes—stop the ritual!”

Kade bolted, Lila at his flank—the altar loomed, cracked from Vane’s strike, its red runes flickering weak. Red Talon swarmed, three rushing from the tunnels—rifles raised, bayonets fixed. Lila spun, stick shattering one’s knee, then his skull, but a bayonet grazed her side—blood bloomed, and she hissed, dropping to a knee. Kade swung, saber cleaving the second guard’s chest, then pivoted—third man’s rifle barked, the shot grazing his arm, hot and sharp. He roared, slashing—the blade took the guard’s head clean off, rolling into the dust.

The outcasts fought on—two now, the wiry woman’s arrows gone, wielding a scavenged knife, the axeman bleeding but swinging wild. They held the tunnel’s mouth, Red Talon piling bodies, but the tide pressed—dozens still, rifles reloading, closing fast. Kade reached the altar, saber raised—runes pulsed, shadows writhing—and slammed the blade down—steel bit stone, cracking the circle, the hum faltering.

Vane bellowed, charging through the fray—dark orb flaring, shadows lashing Kade’s legs, tripping him. He rolled, saber up, as Vane’s blade descended—a brutal clash, steel screaming, sparks flying. The Crow surged, wounded but fierce—curved blade slashing Vane’s back, blood streaking black leather. Vane spun, roaring, and drove his jagged edge deep—the Crow gasped, steel piercing his chest, blood spilling fast.

“No!” Kade yelled, scrambling up—Vane yanked his blade free, the Crow collapsing, dark orb slipping from his grip. Kade swung—saber arcing, cutting Vane’s arm—shadows recoiled, the warlord stumbling, but still standing, grinning through the pain.

The Crow coughed, blood bubbling, and grabbed Kade’s leg—weak, fading. “Orb… yours,” he rasped, eyes dimming. “The star falls… but you rise.” His hand fell, breath gone, coat pooling red beneath him—Starfall’s last, gone to shield the spark.

Kade seized the dark orb—its heat twisted, wrong—and clutched both, their hums crashing, a storm in his hands. Vane lunged—blade high, blood dripping—and Kade parried, saber flowing, Wei’s dance alive. The cavern shook, outcasts faltering—one left, the axeman, axe buried in a Red Talon skull before a rifle shot dropped him. Lila rose, knife in hand—stick lost—slashing a guard’s throat, her side bleeding but unbowed.

The runes died, shadows fading, and Kade pressed—saber slashing Vane’s chest, a shallow cut, then his arm—blood welled, slowing him. Vane roared, blade wild—Kade ducked, rolling, and swung—a leaping strike, saber biting Vane’s war machine, a hulking contraption of gears and barrels looted from some battlefield. Steel tore metal, sparks flew, and the machine groaned, toppling into a brazier—fire caught, a blast brewing.

“Out!” Kade yelled, grabbing Lila—both orbs in his pack, saber flashing—as Red Talon scattered, the cavern igniting. Vane’s laugh cut through—mad, unbroken—his blade raised as flames licked his boots. Kade ran, Lila limping beside him, the tunnel’s mouth a shrinking hope—fire roared, stone cracked, and the Crow’s body vanished in the blaze, a pyre for Starfall’s end.

They burst into the night, the stronghold crumbling behind—Vane’s shadow lost, but alive, the battle teetering on a razor’s edge.