He was already moving, his shield coming up, when the attack hit.
The plaza shook.
It wasn't an earthquake. It wasn't magic.
It was the impact of a single kick connecting with Borin's shield with enough force to crack the cobblestones beneath his feet.
CRACK.
A spiderweb of fractures spread across the surface of the shield—
Borin's eyes went wide with shock.
"What in the—"
The second kick was already coming.
Vale saw it this time—a woman appearing as if from nowhere, her face shadowed, a dark purple aura leaking into the air around her like smoke from a funeral pyre. Her skirt had torn at the side, the fabric split high enough to reveal the taut, coiled muscles of her thigh as she moved. The energy didn't just radiate from her.
It consumed the space around her.
The woman's eyes were wild. Unfocused. Lost in something that went beyond rage into pure, primal fury.
And those eyes were locked on Piers.
"Give him BACK!" The scream tore from Xylia's throat, raw and terrible.
Astral staggered back. "Demonic aura." His voice shook. "Who is this woman?"
Vale tried to respond, tried to explain, but the woman wasn't listening. Couldn't listen. Her senses were drowned in maternal instinct and protective rage.
demonic aura who is this woman... astral murmered
The second kick was about to come—aimed directly at Vale this time.
"Wait!" Vale shouted, raising one hand while keeping Piers secure with the other. "We found him alone! We're trying to help—"
Xylia didn't hear her.
The purple aura intensified, darkening the air, and she moved with speed that shouldn't have been possible for someone who looked like a simple forest-dweller.
And then—
"XYLIA, NO!"
A new figure crashed into the plaza—a man with an easy-going face now twisted with urgency. He threw himself between his wife and the knight, arms spread wide.
The kick connected.
BOOM.
Rigas flew backward like a stone from a catapult, his body slamming into the wall of a nearby shop with enough force to crater the stonework. The impact echoed through the plaza.
Everything stopped.
Dust settled.
For a moment, there was absolute silence.
Then, from the Rigas-shaped hole in the wall, came a groan.
"Ow."
Slowly, painfully, Rigas pulled himself out of the crater. His face was scraped. His shirt was torn. One eye was already starting to swell.
He looked absolutely terrible.
But he grinned anyway.
"D-Don't worry," he said, voice slightly wheezy. "I'm used to it."
And then—
From Vale's arms—
A sound no one expected.
A small, quiet giggle.
Piers was laughing.
Not a belly laugh or proper chuckle—just a breathy little sound that barely counted. But it was there.
Genuine. Real.
The first laugh he'd made in three years.
[NULL SYSTEM - CRITICAL ALERT]
[EMOTIONAL RESPONSE: JOY DETECTED]
[GENUINE AMUSEMENT REGISTERED]
[VOID CORRUPTION: 47% → 44%]
[MASSIVE REDUCTION]
[ANALYSIS: HUMOR + ABSURDITY + FAMILY BONDING = POWERFUL POSITIVE EMOTION]
[HYPOTHESIS CONFIRMED: REAL EMOTIONS REVERSE CORRUPTION]
[CURRENT STATE: STABILIZING]
"PIERS LAUGHED!"
Styx's voice rang out across the plaza, bright with excitement and wonder. She was bouncing on her toes, pointing at her brother, her own face split in a huge grin.
"He laughed! Did you hear? Mama, Papa, Piers laughed!"
The sound of her daughter's joy cut through Xylia's rage like a knife through silk.
The purple aura flickered. Dimmed.
Xylia blinked, her vision clearing, and suddenly she could see again.
The knight holding her son—not hurting him. Just holding him. Keeping him safe.
The party around them—hands raised in peace, looking more confused than threatening.