To say that the situation looks desperate would be the understatement of the century. With so many Shadow Mimics in front of them, it would be a miracle if they managed to survive more than five minutes.

Jacob exhales, forcing calm into his voice as his eyes gleam with some deep understanding.

He's clearly had an idea—or at least he's seeing something only he can see.

"Listen to me," he says. "I've got a way to kill the Mimics, but I need ten minutes. That's all—ten minutes."

The others glance at him, uncertain, but his tone leaves no room for argument.

"Buy me that time and I'll handle the rest," Jacob adds.

The Mimics twitch in the dark, their empty eyes gleaming.

"Whatever happens, just keep me safe. Ten minutes—just hold."

Orrivane and Iskara exchange a glance, a silent understanding passing between them. There's no time to argue, no room for restraint. The Mimics are already moving, their shadowy claws gleaming like liquid obsidian. Using their Rainbow Skills here means exposing everything—to Lancelot, to Nimirea, to anyone watching—but dying with secrets gains them nothing. Iskara exhales, crimson eyes flaring as the air around her trembles with Mana.

Orrivane's expression hardens, his hand tightening, reality beginning to fold around him.

They both nod once.

The Shadow Mimics can't copy the Rainbow Skills.

The Mimics begin to change. Their shapes grow denser, their muscles tightening like coiled steel. The air vibrates around them. Each breath they take spreads heat and pressure through the cavern. Their skin darkens, glowing faintly with red veins of light. The ground cracks under their feet as their aura swells higher and higher. Jacob can feel it pressing against his chest like a storm wind. They are feeding on Iskara's power, copying her every buff, every surge. The shadows twist around them, and their strength climbs until it settles—a burning, suffocating presence at Advanced Diamond Rank.

Nimirea eyes go wide.

"That's why they copied me," Iskara hisses. "They're using buffs. They're even stronger. This is…"

She turns toward Jacob, but he has already sat down and is meditating.

Whatever he's doing, he better make this work.

When she turns back toward the Deep Shadow Mimics, however, there's not much fear to be found upon her face. In fact, there's essentially none.

Now, her eyes start changing color.

"Eliskar, the buffs."

"Yes, Your Highness."

The giant Infernal starts chanting in ancient language as Iskara's own aura climbs higher and higher.

Inside Jacob Cloud's soul, someone nods to himself, satisfied.

I suspected her Squires were trained for this. It makes sense. I never did that when I owned Lucifer's Veins because I only obtained the Rainbow Skill later in life. If I had been groomed with it from my younger years, training Squires who would be able to increase my power like this would have made a big difference.

King Baalrek smiles at himself as he looks at the Golden Sight: Iskara's eyes have turned fully gold, with no distinction between iris, pupil, or any of the features of the cornea. This is the sign of complete mastery of Lucifer's Veins. It's a Rainbow Skill that requires some practice and a ritual to master. Without him, the Skill might have poisoned the girl.

Well, without me AND the boy, I suppose.

King Baalrek sees Iskara's aura rising until she hist the very Peak of Diamond Rank, but he can feel that the way she wields the power is unstable.

She still cannot fully control the power of someone at Peak Diamond Rank. She's not strong enough to deal with those Deep Shadow Mimics.

Even though Shadow Mimics, Deep or not, can copy an entire person's Skillset, they cannot copy Rainbow Skills. Rainbow Skills transcend Rank and reason, and therefore are impossible to replicate. That's why there's only one per kind at the time.

Iskara's body shifts as her power rises. Her skin glows faintly, and her hair lifts in the heated air. The light in her eyes grows stronger until it fills them completely. The ground shakes softly under her feet.

The Mimics launch themselves forward all at once. Their movements are fast, sharp, and perfectly in sync. The first reaches her, but Iskara meets it head-on. Her fist goes through its chest, the explosion of Mana tearing the mimic apart. Yet, the creatures bounces off the ground, looks at its caved in chest and simply knits it back with the shadows that surround it.

The others don't stop. They attack from every side, cutting through the air with speed that forces her to move faster than she ever has.

She sidesteps a swipe aimed at her throat and drives her knee into the mimic's chest, breaking it apart in a burst of golden light. Another comes from behind; she spins, grabs its arm, and tears it off before crushing its head with her palm.

Two more rush from the sides. She releases a shockwave of power that blow away three Deep Shadow Mimics at once. They reform almost instantly, but she doesn't give them time to attack again. She closes the distance and slashes her claws across their chests, the impact strong enough to send them crashing into the cavern wall.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Lancelot stares, wide-eyed. "She's winning!"

Nimirea shakes her head. "No. Look closer."

King Baalrek watches quietly from inside Jacob's soul.

She's pushing too much power at once, he thinks. Her body can't hold it.

The Mimics close in again, their strikes landing one after another. Iskara blocks two, but a third slips through, cutting across her shoulder. Another blow hits her ribs, forcing the air from her lungs. The golden light around her dims as several more Mimics crash into her at once, their claws starting to tear through her defenses.

The Mimics change targets. Half of them keep pressing Iskara, while the others turn toward the rest of the group. Their movements are jerky but coordinated, like a single will guiding all of them.

They do look like Iskara, but twisted.

The resemblance makes the scene even harder to watch.

Lancelot and Nimirea step back, trying to find space to fight. The shadows spread faster, filling every corner of the cavern.

Orrivane raises his hand. "Stay behind me."

A black field expands in front of him. One of the Mimics lunges straight into it, and the moment its arm crosses the barrier, it dissolves. The rest of its body halts, smoke rising from the missing limb.

The relief lasts a second. The mimic reforms the arm with the same liquid shadows and charges again.

Orrivane tightens his stance and fires a burst of Void Magic. The attack tears through two mimics, slowing them but not destroying them. He pulls his hand back and summons another Event Horizon, catching one more in the trap.

Even with Void Magic, he can't hold them off. Their buffs make them stronger, faster, and more coordinated than before. They begin to close the distance, forcing him to retreat.

"I didn't know two Champions had Rainbow Skills," Nimirea suddenly says with a sigh.

"Well, now you know!" Orrivane says, shouting and defending himself. "It doesn't really matter if we're all going to die, anyway!"

"Let me return the favor," Nimirea says, stepping in front of Orrivane and slapping her hands together.

This can't be, King Baalrek thinks. Another one? And THIS ONE?! What kind of Karma is influencing the world? The Generation of Legends? That's not enough! Where do all these Rainbow Skills come from?!

Water bursts from Nimirea's palms, spreading across the ground in a wide circle. The liquid is dark and heavy, more like oil than water. The moment it touches the shadows, the Mimics begin to slow down.

"Devouring Ocean Eating the Heavens," Nimirea declares.

Inside Jacob's soul, King Baalrek's voice is calm but sharp.

Devouring Ocean Eating the Heavens. It drains Mana from anything within its reach. Every drop of water becomes a mouth. Anything caught in it is slowly emptied of energy.

The Mimics step into the water. Their auras flicker, their movements losing precision. Nimirea's eyes narrow as she keeps the field expanding. The cavern floor darkens as more water flows from her hands.

In ten minutes, she can drain anyone dry, Baalrek continues. She absorbs the Mana herself, storing it in her veins. If she can last that long, she could end this fight alone.

But there's a problem, he adds. The Skill isn't selective. Anything that touches the Devouring Ocean feeds it—including her allies. If she loses focus or pushes too far, it won't matter who the Mana belongs to.

Nimirea works hard to steer the Skill away from her allies as they move, and then raises a hand.

"Abyssal Ocean Cannon."

A terrifying jet of water impacts a Deep Shadow Mimic almost point blank, destroying its entire body and killing it on the spot. Nimirea sags slightly after that attack.

"What the hell is that?!" Orrivane says, using Event Horizon to defend from a blow and make sure no one attacks Jacob. "That's the most Mana I've ever seen poured in one attack! How many of those can you even use at once?!"

Nimirea smiles as her Mana is fed again through Devouring Ocean Eating the Heavens.

Nimirea steadies her hands. The water thickens and rises around two Mimics. Their auras flicker hard. She pulls. Their steps slow to a crawl.

Iskara reads the opening. She jumps in and rips one apart before it can reform. The Devouring Ocean holds the pieces a moment longer. It stays dead.

Orrivane times a Void burst through the second. The blast tears it in half and the Ocean pulls the scraps under. It vanishes. Two down.

Lancelot rushes in with a shout. He lands a blow on a third. It barely staggers. A backhand sends him skidding. He coughs and crawls back, shaking.

Iskara is bleeding from shoulder, ribs, and thigh. Cuts line her arms. Her breathing is heavy. She still stands between the Mimics and Jacob.

Orrivane's barriers form slower. The edges shake. One Event Horizon flashes too late and only eats a claw tip. The full strike still lands on his crossed arms and forces him back with exposed bone coming from his forearms.

Nimirea still launches devastating attacks, but her face is pale. Her arms shake each time she pulls more Mana. The drain from Devouring Ocean Eating the Heavens keeps feeding her, but her body strains under it.

King Baalrek speaks inside Jacob's soul. She can refill her Mana, but the body pays the price. This much output is slowly destroying her muscle and bone. It is impressive she is still upright.

A Mimic slips past a late barrier and clips Iskara's side. She staggers. She blows it away it a second later, but her stance is off. Her eyes dim for an instant.

Another Mimic drives through Orrivane's weakened field and pierces his side. He gasps, clutching the wound.

Nimirea fires a short jet to stop a charge. It works, but her legs shake. She drops to one knee and grips the ground to stay steady.

Iskara takes one step, then another. Her legs give out. She falls to the ground, blood running down her arm, eyes still gold but faint.

"Your Highness!" Eliskar is about to run toward her when a hand stops him.

"I've got this."

Without anyone noticing, Jacob has risen.

"Sorry, my Skill was too low-leveled to work on them. I had to pull off some last minute training. But this should be easy."

The Deep Shadow Mimics look at Jacob with their empty eyes and two jump at him.

"You drew too much from Iskara's power. You're tethered to all these buffs."

As the two Deep Shadow Mimics are about to hit him, he simply says, "Hellish Reversal."

Both disappear in clouds of ash.

Then he turns toward the other ones and takes a deep breath.

"Hellish Reversal."

Hellish Reversal, the same Skill he used against Azrakel, inverts the buffs. However, the Grimoire had told him that the Skill was too low leveled to affect the Deep Shadow Mimics. Now, however, with the Mimics having drunk way too deep from Iskara's power, the effect of Hellish Reversal is simply devastating. It dissolves their very core before they can do anything.

However, the shadows from the mimics that had been still standing slowly reach Jacob, who's wary of such an effect and ready to fight.

But, against all odds, he simply hears a notification.

[Your Skill has evolved.]

He feels a tremor in his hand.

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