There were two phases to Lucian’s plan. The first was the riskiest, in Lucian’s estimation—debuffing.

  Villeth rampaged against Brutus, making every effort to kill him. The Martial Prince had a spear and little else while eight blades rained down upon him from every direction. The demon chopped with the ruthless efficiency an assembly line of butchers, and the sounds of metal clashing against metal rang out endlessly into the dark of night. The sparks were so intense they hit Lucian on occasion.

  Aurelia stayed a cautious distance away with Lucian aback, circling the deadly fight like a wolf waiting to nip at the heels. Lucian had his hand held out, casting a three-word spell called Fear on Brutus repeatedly. Fear was an illusion spell that worked instantly on-sight. Lucian, however, swapped it with healing magic. Like this, he was able to heal the Martial Prince from a long distance. Healing magic’s sole detriment early-game was the fact that it required contact. With Formless Essence, Lucian had mitigated that requirement.

  Brutus could survive against Villeth with this trick—but to what end?

  Finally, after what felt like hours, Lucian saw to what end.

  “Hit!” Brutus shouted.

  “Yes,” Lucian whispered in joy.

  That spear wasn’t Brutus’ spear. It was Lucian’s Inquisitor’s Spetum. After so long of blocking, Brutus managed to slam the spear lightly against the demon’s leg, triggering the spell contained within it. It was the first debuff they needed to make this victory happen. Lucian could visibly see Villeth’s speed wane.

  Just then, Algard darted in, a spear in hand. Elegantly, the two handed it off—Brutus received his personal spear, and Algard received the spetum. Algard received a slash in return for his effort, and was sent tumbling backward. He collapsed in the dirt, but sat up. Aurelia rushed over to him, and Lucian held his hand out to seize the spetum. He imbued it with the next debuff spell.

  “Drink,” Lucian said, and Denzel was ready to pour a mana potion down his throat.

  Algard healed himself of the grievous wound, and when he was ready, took the imbued spetum from Lucian’s hands. He sprinted in again, trading off the spetum to Brutus. This time, the emperor managed to avoid being hit as he fled. Brutus resumed that deadly clash, Lucian furiously healing him while waiting for that word.

  “Hit!” Brutus shouted.

  Villeth paused midswing, turning his head toward Lucian. Those eyes knew what he’d done.

  “Tricks,” the demon said contemptuously.

  Villeth leapt like a cheetah toward the neck of a gazelle right at him. Lucian became a ghost from the sheer shock, but Aurelia was ready. She turned, bringing her tails to bear. Villeth’s four lower arms swept low, while his upper arms slammed down on high. Golden shields appeared on the ends of eight of Aurelia’s tails, blocking each swipe. Yet… Aurelia had nine tails.

  With her final tail, she conjured a spear of golden light and thrust forth, stabbing Villeth hard enough to send him staggering back. Yet even amidst that, he lashed out with his sword wildly with Guard Counter, slashing Aurelia across her hindlegs. She was sent spinning, casting Lucian and Denzel both off. By the time Lucian reoriented himself, he saw the eight-armed demon standing above him and saw his life flash before his eyes.

  Brutus blocked the attack, while Algard swooped in and grabbed Lucian. He ran over to Aurelia, who’d already collected Denzel. The prince was healing her with his own magic—smart move.

  “Take it,” the emperor said simply, handing Lucian his spetum.

  Lucian climbed back atop Aurelia and imbued the spetum with yet another debuff spell. Algard took it from him, and the seemingly unending clash resumed once more. This time, Aurelia very prudently made sure that Brutus was always standing between them and the demon. Even still, he continually tried to get at Lucian without success.

  Villeth continued to grow weaker as debuffs were continually applied. Lucian could tell that things were much less one sided than they had been. Brutus was never able overpower or outspeed his opponent, but he held his own much easier, and the interval between new hits decreased substantially. Finally, Lucian counted all the debuffs out…

  “Second phase!” Lucian shouted.

  Brutus backed away, while Aurelia and Algard both advanced. The demon chose Aurelia as his target, clearly intending to do away with Lucian as the source of the weakness spells. She focused only on defending, and Lucian focused on ensuring she was in top form. He’d nearly forgotten how strong she was as she held her own with as much vigor as Brutus.

  “Po-poisoned!” Brutus shouted, sounding delirious.

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  This was the part of the battle that worried Lucian the most. A lot of people would be put at risk. Brutus needed to hit Villeth with the Voodoo Dagger. Considering the potency of the poison, Lucian was concerned that it might be impossible. To that end, Aurelia retreated, leaving the emperor alone to contend with the demon.

  Aurelia retrieved Brutus, who climbed on with bulging eyes and a bloody nose. Even still, his gaze looked confident and his grip on the Voodoo Dagger was tight. Algard faced off against Villeth. There was no doubt that the emperor was a formidable contender, but he was no Martial Prince. As Aurelia waited for the signal, he tried to turn the demon around, dodging, weaving, ducking. He was hit many times, great gashes opening up in his body. As he succeeded in turning around Villeth, Lucian saw a sword strike Algard’s face, slicing his nose clean off.

  “Now!” Brutus shouted.

  Aurelia lunged, and then Brutus leapt from her with the Voodoo Dagger in hand. He stabbed it right underneath the armor into the demon’s neck. Moments after the blade struck home Lucian heard a heartbeat cut through the air, and all of Brutus’ maladies vanished in a mere moment. Villeth turned and swiped a sword toward Brutus, but the madman blocked, and kicked off Villeth to land by Algard to defend him.

  Villeth paused. He stabbed one of his swords in the ground, then felt his neck. “Poison?” He grabbed his sword, then pulled it out. “Curious. Irrelevant.”

  “…like hell it is,” Lucian muttered.

  “Algard needs healing!” Brutus shouted.

  Aurelia sprinted up behind Algard, grabbed his collar with her teeth, and dragged him away. Lucian focused his healing efforts on Algard as Brutus held his own. Debuffed nine different ways, poisoned with the supreme poison made by Aisha herself… and still Villeth overpowered Brutus, forcing the Martial Prince on a desperate defense.

  Yet finally… Algard was healed, and he rose. He looked at Lucian. “Final… s-stretch.”

  Lucian nodded. “That it is.”

  Denzel gave Lucian another potion, and Lucian made sure Brutus was healed up from his period of endurance before moving to the final act. One by one, Lucian made curious-looking arrows pulsing with white lightning appear in the air. They stayed there, waiting, as he spawned them. This was a spell that the player could pre-prepare, building up stacks.

  …seven, eight, Lucian counted. His heart throbbed in worry. If this fails… Brutus dies. But I did the math, and…

  “Ready for the finale!” Lucian shouted.

  “Ready!” Brutus returned.

  “Ready!” Algard confirmed.

  Lucian sent out the eight arrows of white lightning. They coursed through the air, quick in his eyes yet likely dreadfully slow to Villeth. The demon turned toward them, then slashed each of the eight spells out of the air with elegant precision, capturing each of them with his Magic Counter. Lucian’s eyes widened in anticipation.

  The moment each of Villeth’s blades were wreathed with magic, Brutus thrust out his spear, using Eightfold Strike. His spear struck eight times in quick succession… triggering eight Guard Counters from Villeth. When Brutus’ attack was finished, the demon turned and swung his blade with incredible power. As it came, Brutus didn’t block, dodge… he simply activated the first part of a skill Lucian was now familiar with—Sétanta.

  Then, Brutus simply stood there.

  Villeth’s blade slashed into Brutus, starting at the collarbone. It moved through cleanly, elegantly… yet even as the blade tore his flesh asunder, the spell that Lucian had sent out applied to Brutus. Villeth’s Magic Counter didn’t use Lucian’s magic—it used Villeth’s gigantic MAG stat, which Lucian had gone so far as to buff. The healing spell that Lucian had imbued into Villeth’s blades healed the flesh seconds after they tore it asunder.

  Once, twice, thrice… eight times Villeth slashed Brutus with all his strength, but weakened as he was, the healing magic was sufficient to heal Brutus of any injury. Meanwhile, Sétanta surged in power with each hit. Brutus had accumulated enough damage in that moment to die eight times over. That meant Sétanta had become a skill of ridiculous power.

  Brutus activated the second part of Sétanta. Lucian could feel an unbelievable surge of power that shook the earth. The Martial Prince took his spear in hand and swung it with the ferocity of an enraged god. He swung it not toward Villeth, but toward Algard, who’d adopted a martial arts stance.

  Algard received Brutus’ spearhead with his bare hand. The mere contact caused a burst that cracked the earth. Lucian saw a huge tremor of undiluted power pass into Algard, so fierce it exploded his body from the inside at countless points. But Algard, in a perfect demonstration of skill brought about by the Blessing of the Soothsayer, carried this power forward and executed a kick right into Villeth’s stomach.

  One second, Villeth was there. The next, he was hurtling away at speeds unimaginable, off the side of the mountain and into distant horizon. The Utrenn Aversion Stance converted damage into a knockback effect. It had no limit, but tended to fail at extreme damage values. Unless, of course, one used the Blessing of the Soothsayer to ensure it worked.

  Silence fell. Only the chirping of crickets could be heard after Villeth vanished.

  “YES!” Denzel shouted.

  Then, Algard keeled over and vomited out copious amounts of blood. Lucian healed him in worry, but the emperor collapsed onto the ground, unmoving.

  “…is he dead?” Denzel asked.

  “Should be at 1 HP,” Lucian said, then rephrased, “Uhh… he’s fine. Brutus—grab him, and let’s hurry back.”

  Lucian smiled, then laughed in disbelief. They overcame Villeth. And no one died.

  Algard sat up, then vomited more blood before passing out again.

  Well… no one died yet, Lucian rephrased, healing him again.

  Algard wasn’t dead if he could still be healed, surely.

  Surely.