Malachi Arcanus wiped the blood from the corner of his mouth, grinning as he got up, battle intent igniting in his eyes: "What, jealous that I got to sleep with Luna in my arms last night? Anyway, in a few days, it'll be your turn—"
Before he could finish, Rhys Blackwood's serpent tail suddenly swept sideways, slamming him hard into the pile of harvested rice.
Golden rice ears flew through the air, tracing dazzling arcs in the morning light.
No need to thresh anymore.
"Cough, cough..."
Malachi spat out the rice hulls in his mouth, and Netherworld Dark Fire flared up from his palm with a "whoosh": "You black serpent, are you looking to die!"
Corbin Crowley's silver eyes flashed dangerously, his fists cracking as he shook out his wrists: "Perfect time to stretch my muscles."
The three instantly tangled together, flames clashing with ice crystals, the serpent tail shattering ancient trees—startling tribe members to poke their heads out in alarm.
"First thing in the morning..."
