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The man exploded into a cloud of blood, and the water that splashed outward from his position was stained a faint pink, drizzling the battleground.

Zeff was taken aback for a moment, having not expected that result.

That moment was too long, though. A blaze of soul-empowered gunfire caught him straight through the torso, tearing him open all the way up through his neck and threatening to detach his head.

Agh. How stupid. He couldn’t help scolding himself even as he mounted a counterattack, materializing an icy spike in the apparent gunman’s mouth and skewering him through the brain. The nameless man dropped instantly, and Zeff encased his entire corpse in ice.

Amateurish. Letting himself get distracted. And over something so trivial, too. If not for pan-forma aiding his regeneration, that might have been a far costlier mistake on his part. And with a clearer mind now, Zeff highly doubted that Riev was truly ended by that one attack, but it had bought him time to concentrate on someone else.

There were plenty of candidates to choose from, too. It seemed like more guards were funneling into the chamber now. Jorga, Mikas, and Marda were still the biggest threats, but the extra crowding certainly wasn’t going to help.

He was much more mindful of the reapers being rescued, however. They were the priority. Anyone not threatening them could be ignored for a bit longer.

But Raga Marda was. The so-called Demon’s Tiger of Abolish. With the aid of Axiolis’ senses, Zeff could sense him already engaging with Diego Redwater and Dimas Sebolt both.

And it did not appear to be going well for them. In fairness, Dimas was doubtless more focused on shielding the reapers he’d just freed, but Diego had less of an excuse, having already lost both an arm and leg while accomplishing little more than scorching Marda’s face and clothes.

The fight space was too cramped over there to resort to the Drillburst again. It would hit Diego and Dimas. But the Demon’s Tiger was not someone he could afford to pull his punches on. According to their intel, this man was at least seventy years old, putting him on similar ground with General Lawrence--a fight which had not gone well for Zeff back at Rheinhal.

True, he’d made considerable leaps in power since then. But just how considerable? How much had he really grown?

One way or another, it was time to find out.