Page 941 -- CVII.

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Chapter One Hundred Seven: ‘Thy strangling breath...’
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The fight came quickly. And ended nearly as fast.

The objective wasn’t to win. With only the three of them, a battle against Parson Miles was unfavorable, to say the least. And so, if defeat was all but guaranteed, then the most important task at hand was to ensure someone was able to escape to Luzo and warn everyone else. With that goal in mind, the trio of Rainlords stopped using pan-forma all at once and let their reapers flee underground in separate directions.

This was a mistake, they soon realized.

Rather than attacking them, Parson whipped his own body into a tornadic fury, becoming a veritable blade of gale force winds that carried the strength of his and Overra’s soul. And with that blade, he barreled straight into the ground, kicking up a cloud of swirling dust that became a whirlwind unto itself.

No more than a minute later, Parson returned to surface with all three reapers in his clutches.

Parson descended slowly, accumulating into the form of a man once more and watching the Rainlords carefully as he landed on the bridge with them. Perhaps he was waiting to see if they would force him to kill their reapers right then and there. They didn’t.

“Have you all calmed down?” Parson asked.

None answered.

“Mm. Really, though, you should have known better. Lady Garza, sure, you have the excuse of never having been Vanguard, but Zeff and Angie? We spent years together. And yet even now, you underestimate us?”

Zeff could feel the old well boiling again.

“But then again,” Parson went on, “Rainlords never do make very good tacticians. All that honor and bloodlust mixed together. Small wonder why you always seem to make the wrong decisions.”

Evangelina Stroud kept her voice level. “If you are going to take us prisoner, then please get on with it. I know how much you love to talk, but I would honestly rather be stuck in a holding cell for the next twenty years than listen to you yammer on for another five minutes.”

Parson chuckled with two voices. “Oh, Angie. Silly girl. Now that the Gargoyle isn’t watching, we can do as we please. Naturally, we’re not going to take you prisoner.”

Socorro’s reaper burst apart in a sudden gust of wind and evaporated into nothing.