Once we passed through the gate, Allira barked out sharp orders. “Shield wall form up! Defensive perimeter, tighten it!”

  The golems moved in perfect unison, their heavy steps pounding around us. A ring of living steel. Marlena and Allyson stayed close behind me as we stepped onto the battlefield. In the distance, dark shapes shifted restless, seething. It didn’t take long.

  The first wave of demons charged across the field, screaming. High above, I heard the twang of bowstrings and the snap of arrows flying. Arrows exploded in synchronized volleys, defeating the front lines before they reached us. The air was thick with blood and smoke.

  I drew Emberline; the blade came to life in my hand, firelight flickering along the edge as we pushed forward. They moved swiftly. More minor demons surged like a wave, their skin slick with gore, mouths frothing, claws outstretched. Every time one fell, another used the corpse as a springboard to lunge even closer.

  Slash.

  Cut.

  Burn.

  Each swing of Emberline painted the ground with seared flesh and cleaved limbs. Notifications streamed across my vision, names, numbers, dead things piling higher and higher in code.

  Up ahead, larger demons stood like gatekeepers, pushing the weaker ones forward in waves. They roared, shoving their kin toward us, shrieking for blood. We carved through them.

  The golems, seven feet tall and relentless, slammed into the monsters like titans. Blades swung wide. Shields shattered stone and bone. Anything not crushed was cut. The battlefield trembled with each blow. I sensed the rift before I saw it. Like walking into a storm with no sky hair rising on end, the air buzzing, off. That’s when it escalated. My skin felt as if it were electrified.

  Smaller demons burst from the sides, snarling and snapping, their eyes glowing with hatred. One leapt high, I met it midair with a burst from Emberline, slicing it in half before it could screech.

  Marlena raised her hands. Jagged icicles formed above her in a spinning wheel before shooting outward. Screams of flying demons suddenly stopped as they were skewered midair, falling from the sky in broken spirals.

  “Allira!” I called out.

  She was already there, on the front line, her blade flashing like a streak of silver lightning. Demons fell at her feet in twos and threes.

  “Allyson! How long?” I shouted.

  “Thirty minutes, Master!” she replied, her voice steady and composed as she ducked beneath a swing and thrust her blade into a demon’s chest.

  We pushed through a storm of claws, teeth, and screams, each step fought, each breath earned. The ground was slick with blood, and the air was thick with smoke and ozone. Our boots slipped on the gore, but we kept moving. We couldn’t stop. The rift was close, I could feel it humming through my bones, pulling at something ancient and primal inside me. We were on the brink of ending this.

  Then it hit me, like a hammer to the chest. My perception skill flared, screaming a warning. A sour wave surged up my throat, the sudden, choking urge to retch. Something was wrong. Something was watching. But where? The world seemed to pause.

  A shadow stretched across the battlefield, long and unnatural, swallowing the corpses and ash beneath it. The temperature dropped not just cold, but soul-deep. Even the most hardened among us slowed, instincts bristling.

  Then it stepped forward.

  The demon emerged from the edge of the rift like a nightmare come to life, towering, monstrous, and profoundly wrong. Its massive form overshadowed every creature nearby; even the largest golems looked like children in its shadow. Twisted horns spiraled unevenly from its skull, sharp and black as obsidian blades, catching the faint light with a gleam that hinted at pain.

  Its skin was a ruined landscape, darkened and charred, with deep cracks shimmering with molten light. Each breath it took radiated heat, causing the surrounding air to ripple as if the creature burned from within. Beneath the fractures, veins of ember-glow pulsed like slow lightning.

  In its hands, it wielded a two-handed greatsword so massive it looked forged from the wreckage of fallen worlds. The blade was rusted, chipped, and inscribed with runes that twitched as if alive, crawling like insects across the corroded metal.

  Without a word, the demon raised the sword and slammed the flat against its chest with a thunderous clang. The sound echoed across the battlefield, deafening and resounding like the toll of some infernal war bell. The ground itself trembled beneath our feet.

  Every instinct screamed: this was the end-boss. The one meant to kill us all.

  “I SMELL YOU, ENGINEER!” it roared, voice like an avalanche, low and hungry. “COME OUT AND FACE ME!”

  Everything froze.

  Without thinking, I activated Analyze. Lines of golden script scrolled across my vision, jagged, unstable, like the system itself was reluctant to reveal what stood before me.

  [??? – Abyssal General of Ruin]

  Name: Varkreth the Hollow Flame

  Type: Greater Demon (Abyssal Class)

  Level: 187

  Rank: Cataclysm-tier Entity

  HP: ???

  Mana: ???

  Resistances: Fire, Shadow, Psychic, Poison, Physical (High)

  Immunities: Fear, Charm, Paralysis, Mind Control

  Known Abilities:

  – Abyssal Flamecore – Body radiates anti-divine fire. Continuous burn damage to all non-demonic entities nearby.

  – Black Rend – Attacks ignore armor and regenerate health equal to damage dealt.

  – Infernal Surge – Massive burst of speed and strength for short periods. Causes terrain damage.

  – Death Echo – Upon receiving fatal damage, triggers a delayed explosion of soul-flame; radius: 300 meters.

  – Soulbind Presence – Allies within the aura cannot retreat or teleport.

  Title: Commander of the Seventh Hell Legion

  Warning: [Threat Level: TERMINATION CLASS] – Retreat strongly advised.

  [Further analysis blocked by interference from Abyssal Source.]

  Level 187? What is this thing?

  The tide of lesser demons halted. They scurried away from us, their snarls turning into whimpers. Even they feared what lay ahead.

  I looked at Allira, who was breathing heavily, her sword arm trembling from the effort. Blood streaked her armor, although not all of it was hers.

  Marlena wiped ichor from her face, her eyes wide but blazing with fury.

  Still, we held the line. But it won't last long.

  I turned to Allyson. “How long?”

  “Ten minutes, Master,” she replied, still impossibly calm.

  I nodded. “Marlena, get the disruptor out. I’ll be right back.”

  Allira’s eyes widened in panic. “What?! David, no…”

  I raised my hand sharply and conclusively. The gesture paralyzed her and Marlena, silencing their protests. I didn’t need to say what we all understood: if we confronted this monster head-on, we’d be slaughtered. This wasn’t a fight. It was a delay tactic. A gamble. One I had to take.

  “I’m not trying to win,” I said, voice calm but heavy. “I just need to buy time. Get the disruptor charged. Hold the line. Protect the device. Protect each other.”

  Allira took a step forward, eyes blazing, jaw clenched. “But…”

  “Please.” I looked her in the eye, letting her see the resolve behind mine. “Trust me.”

  For a moment, the storm raged around us silently, only wind, ash, and her breath catching. Then she nodded, barely.

  I faced the monster, each step pulling me further away from the people I loved and closer to the thing that might destroy us all.

  “All right, you ugly bastard,” I muttered, stepping forward as the others held position behind me. “Let’s dance.” I raised my voice, letting my inner Ash Williams come out. “And who do I have the pleasure of killing today?”

  The demon straightened, cracks of molten lava glowing brighter across its chest. “I am General Varkreth,” it snarled, voice like grinding stone. “Chosen hand of the Abyss. I was sent to pacify your world on behalf of my master. And when I bring him the heart of an engineer, he will feast well.” Its tongue, long, black, and slick, slid across cracked, ember-glowing lips. “Such an exotic delight you’ll be.”

  I tilted my head, unimpressed. “Funny. I was thinking your skull would look great mounted above my workshop, right between the dragon and the void crawler. But first I’ll have to scrub out that rancid stench your kind carries.”

  The demon let out a laugh, harsh and hollow. “Such arrogance for a mortal.”

  “Yeah,” I said, rolling my shoulders. “But you’re standing in my way.”

  Varkreth charged a wall of flesh, steel, and fury. The ground trembled beneath each step, the sheer weight of him crushing bones and creating craters in the earth. The blade he carried was as long as a wagon and as thick as a battering ram. When it swung, the air itself screamed.

  I ducked low, the edge slicing past my skull with a sound like tearing sky. The force of the swing alone knocked me sideways.

  –120 HP [Remaining: 500 of 820]

  I rolled, sprang up, and slashed.

  Emberline hissed through the air, slicing a deep gouge across his thigh. Black ichor burst out in steaming jets, splattering the dirt like tar. Varkreth roared, thunder and rage intertwined, staggering to the side as his massive frame swayed but never fell.

  “You’ll die for that!”

  “Come on, big boy,” I growled, raising Emberline again. “Ready to go some more? I can do this all day.” The words slipped out before I could stop them, my brain falling back on lines from an old superhero movie.

  He didn’t answer. He lunged.

  A blur of hatred and muscle, moving faster than anything that size had any right to. I barely managed to get my blade up in time. Emberline met the strike, but the impact sent me sprawling backward. I slammed into the ground so hard that the breath was forced from my lungs, ribs flaring with white-hot pain.

  –80 HP [Remaining: 540 of 820]

  Before I could recover, he was on me again, blade raised high like a guillotine. I rolled, dirt and ash exploding into my mouth, choking me. The sword slammed down where I’d been a heartbeat earlier, carving a crater into the battlefield. The shockwave hurled me forward like a rag doll.

  –20 HP [Remaining: 520 of 820]

  I scrambled to my feet, coughing, Emberline crackling in my grip.

  He charged again, reckless now, limping from the gash in his thigh but still radiating deadly power. Every footfall exploded like a cannon blast. He swung left, then right, each strike digging trenches deep enough to bury a man. I stumbled backward, just staying ahead of the storm.

  “Five minutes!” Allyson’s voice cut through the chaos like a beacon.

  Varkreth’s head turned. Just a flick. Just long enough.

  I dove to the side, dropped to one knee, and drove Emberline into the back of his leg, just above the knee joint. Sparks screamed as steel bit in. Molten blood erupted, spraying across my face and burning my skin as it hit. Varkreth roared, collapsing onto one leg, his massive blade plunging into the dirt to keep himself upright.

  But he didn’t stay down.

  With a snarl, he twisted and backhanded me. The world shattered. Pain shot through my jaw as my head snapped to the side. I hit the ground hard, sliding through blood and gravel until my ribs screamed. My vision tunneled, blurring shapes and filling with a red haze. Emberline ripped from my hand, spinning out of reach.

  No. Not now. Not the damn sword. Not when it matters.

  My tongue tasted iron, my jaw ached like it had shattered, but worse was the hollow weight in my hand, nothing there. Empty. Useless. For a heartbeat, panic flared hotter than the pain. Without Emberline, I wasn’t a warrior. I was just a guy in the wrong place, waiting to be crushed.

  Get up, David. Move. Breathe. Anything.

  –220 HP [Remaining: 300 of 820]

  He came after me, dragging his wounded leg, his face a mask of rage.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “You think this is a victory?” he roared, voice shaking the ground. “I’ve bathed in the blood of kings. Your kind is fuel for nothing more!”

  I rolled as his blade came down, earth erupting as steel buried deep. My hand closed on a fallen shield. Not mine. Didn’t matter. I heaved it upward with everything I had, smashing it into his jaw. Bone cracked. He staggered, snarling.

  I rolled as his blade came down, the earth trembling from the impact. My hand closed around a fallen shield, splintered, not mine, but it would suffice. I twisted just in time to see the demon’s sword buried deep in the raised shield of one of my golems. The construct’s massive frame buckled, driven to its knees by the force.

  The demon howled, pushing harder, trying to drive the blade through. Another golem lunged in, grappling its torso from behind, metal groaning as it strained against the impossible strength. They weren’t supposed to intervene. I had ordered them to hold position. But they chose to disobey because keeping me alive outweighed everything else.

  That heartbeat of distraction was enough. I heaved the shield upward with everything I had, smashing it into his jaw. Bone cracked. He reeled back, snarling, and with a vicious shove tossed both golems aside like toys. His eyes locked on me, blind fury burning.

  He charged.

  I dove, fingers scrabbling through dirt and blood until they closed around leather. Emberline. Relief surged hot as I gripped the hilt and rose in one desperate motion. He turned too slowly this time. I rammed the blade forward, driving it deep into his side. Metal tore through flesh, and fire erupted from the wound.

  Varkreth screamed an unearthly howl that rattled my bones. His body fractured like volcanic stone, cracks glowing molten, yet he came on still. Black blood poured from his mouth as his massive hand closed around my throat. My feet left the ground. My windpipe was being crushed.

  –20 HP [Remaining: 280 of 820]

  “You will not end me…” His growl was thick with blood, but his grip only tightened. My vision spotted, darkness clawing at the edges.

  –25 HP [Remaining: 255 of 820]

  Panic surged, but somewhere beneath it a spark lit. My hand clawed at Emberline’s hilt. My lifeline. My last chance. And then… Something shifted.

  The sword wasn’t just in my hand. It was in me. A current running up my arm, through my chest, into my mind. Not metal, not fire, something older, something alive. For a heartbeat, I wasn’t choking. I wasn’t broken. I was connected.

  “I already have,” I rasped, voice raw, almost swallowed by his grip. And Emberline answered.

  –25 HP [Remaining: 230 of 820]

  The sword wasn’t just in my hand. It was draining me, pulling something straight from my core. Not gently. Not asking. Siphoning in a surge so sudden it stole my breath faster than the demon’s grip ever could.

  –20 HP [Remaining: 210 of 820]

  My eyes widened. What the hell…?

  Emberline flared to life in a way I’d never seen before, white-hot at the edge, runes along the blade igniting one by one like fuses. The metal vibrated in my grip, hungry. Alive. It wasn’t just mine anymore; it was its own. And it wanted blood.

  Varkreth hesitated for just a moment. He sensed it, too.

  With a roar that felt half mine, half the blade’s, I drove Emberline upward, carving through chest, neck, skull like it had been forged for this exact strike. Light burst from Varkreth’s wounds, pouring out of his eyes, his cracked flesh, his gaping mouth. His body convulsed, his death scream drowned beneath the flare consuming him from within. He dropped me, staggering back, half-blind, molten blood spilling.

  “You… won’t stop… him…” His voice crumbled like the rest of him. “He’ll feel… that you’re back…”

  “Maybe,” I said, chest heaving, the sword still thrumming like it wasn’t finished. “Maybe not.”

  I stepped forward. Emberline pulsed in my hand, demanding the end. I raised it high, the glow so bright it burned shadows off the dirt, and brought it down in a final, brutal stroke. “…but you won’t be alive to find out.”

  The blade cleaved clean through. Varkreth’s head hit the ground with a sickening thud. His body gave one last shudder, then collapsed, dissolving into drifting ash the last breath of a dying world.

  [DING]

  The sound was faint at first. Then another.

  [DING]

  Suddenly, golden light flooded my vision.

  [Achievement Unlocked]

  Major Threat Eliminated: General Varkreth – Abyssal Cataclysm-Class Entity

  3,107 XP Sword Fighting Gain

  5,143 Class XP Gain

  [Title Unlocked: Demon Slayer (Cataclysm)]

  [Skill Resonance Detected – Emberline]

  [Skill Evolution Triggered] – Passive Ability: Mana Flow Synergy [LOCKED – Analysis Required]

  The messages kept coming, layer after layer, stacking at the edges of my vision.

  Achievement Unlocked: “You Shouldn’t Be Alive”

  Survive an encounter with an entity 40+ levels above your own and land the killing blow.

  [DING]

  [Level Up – Sword Fighting – Level 26]

  898 XP Until Next Level

  [DING]

  [Level Up – Sword Fighting – Level 27]

  990 XP Until Next Level

  [DING]

  [Level Up – Sword Fighting – Level 28]

  1,094 XP Until Next Level

  [DING]

  [Level Up – Sword Fighting – Level 29]

  1,207 XP Until Next Level

  [Congratulations]

  [Class Level Up – Engineering - 28]

  6,328 XP Until Next Level

  [Attribute Points Gained: 8]

  [Do you want to allocate your points now?]

  No. I don’t think the battlefield was the best place now. I glanced at the others in the distance, still holding the line, eyes on me. They saw me standing. Looking down at my sword, Emberline dimmed in my hands. I felt drained, yet the blade thrummed with something new. I stared at it. What are you?

  Stillness returned to the battlefield. I staggered back a step, gasping and blinking through the smoke and blood. I took a deep breath. The sky above seemed quieter now, like even the clouds were holding their breath.

  I staggered back a step, legs shaking beneath me, lungs burning. My hands were slick with blood, his, mine, I couldn’t tell. Smoke clung to everything. I blinked, trying to focus. Took one breath. Then another.

  The battlefield around us had become unnervingly silent. The smaller demons didn’t attack; they retreated, hesitant and leaderless. The wave of fear in their movements was something I hadn’t seen from them before.

  “Allyson! Time check!” I shouted, raising my voice so she could hear through the clash of distant weapons.

  “One minute, Master!”

  Perfect.

  I turned and jogged back toward the others. Marlena was already pulling the disruptor from the reinforced case. It was humming now, the crystal pulsing with a deep blue light.

  “How does it look?” I asked.

  “Stable,” she said, handing it to me. "Are you sure this will work?”

  “Nope,” I said, grinning. “But it’s a beautiful day to take a chance.”

  Allira stood nearby, her face streaked with dirt and blood, her sword dripping black demon ichor. She wiped it on her cuisses and stood beside me. “If it goes sideways…”

  “Then we go sideways together.”

  Allyson handed me a steel rod with a keyed rune at the top. “Insert this into the rear slot when the pulse count hits zero. That’s the trigger.”

  “Got it.”

  I stepped forward, disruptor in hand, feeling the charge in the air grow heavier with each step. The rift was pulsing now, no longer just a visual tear in the sky, but something that screamed in the bones. A wave of cold washed over me as I approached the center.

  I knelt and placed the device on the ground, setting the tripod legs into the ashen earth. The hum grew deeper.

  “Five… four…” Allyson called out.

  The rift throbbed intensely. A bolt of red lightning streaked across the sky, arcing upward and vanishing into the clouds.

  “Three… two…”

  The crystal on the device began to rise from its housing, levitating in a shaft of light.

  “One!”

  I forced the keyed rod into the rear slot. The disruptor hissed.

  Light exploded in all directions, blue, white, and gold. A shockwave erupted from the device, flattening the grass and knocking nearby demons backward like rag dolls.

  The rift reacted instantly, recoiling and folding inward, swirling with a furious cyclone of energy. Marlena screamed behind me. Allira gritted her teeth and held her ground. I could feel the pull on my soul, as if something inside that rift was trying to reach for me, trying to remember me.

  No. Not today. The light became blinding. And then…

  Silence. Just… silence. The rift was gone.

  The sky, shattered and scorched just moments earlier, finally settled. A cold wind blew across the battlefield. The demons, still standing, let out a frantic, high-pitched scream and fled, vanishing into the dark corners of the land.

  We had done it. The rift was closed.

  The last echoes of the rift’s collapse faded into a heavy silence. Ash floated through the air like snow. What was left of Varkreth’s body disappeared, disintegrating in the blast, but the weight of what just happened still loomed over everything. I muttered, “Damn, no trophy for my wall.”

  I staggered, knees buckling. My vision pulsed, edges glowing with residual light from the blast. I tried to breathe but then…

  [Ding]

  A familiar chime pierced the silence, followed by another.

  Then the flood hit.

  [Quest Completed]

  [Close the Rift]

  25,000 Class XP upon completion

  You successfully closed a dimensional rift of Abyssal origin, preventing a catastrophic invasion.

  Enties will be starting to take notice.

  [Congratulations]

  [Class Level Up – Engineering -> 29]

  8,165 XP Until Next Level

  [Congratulations]

  [Class Level Up – Engineering -> 30]

  12,228 XP Until Next Level

  New schematics and perk options are available.

  Prototype Slot Unlocked.

  [Congratulations]

  [Class Milestone Achieved]

  [Species Evolution Triggered]

  [Race Upgrade - Human 4]

  Biological threshold exceeded. Ancestral adaptation engaged…

  [Initiating Recalibration]

  [Adaptation Trait Acquired: Cognitive Multithreading]

  “Whoever’s there, can I allocate my points now?” I muttered to myself. “If so, let’s put them evenly into strength and agility?” That would put me at forty in strength and thirty-four in agility. I wonder what happens when they reach fifty?

  Are you sure?

  Yes. I replied.

  I didn’t even have time to curse.

  My body froze up. Every nerve lit up as if it were being rewired from the inside out. Pain, not from injury, but from change, something more profound than skin and bone. Something fundamental.

  My knees hit the ground. Then the world went black.

  “…David. David, please.”

  A voice. Soft. Urgent. Trembling at the edges.

  I blinked, my breath catching in my throat. My head rested in Marlena’s lap. Her hand gently stroked the side of my face, and her voice was close to my ear, desperate, whispering something over and over like a prayer.

  “Come back to me. Come on. Don’t you dare leave us now.”

  My fingers twitched while her grip tightened.

  “Marlena,” I rasped.

  Her breath hitched. Her eyes locked onto mine, and the wave of relief reflected in them nearly overwhelmed me.

  “You idiot,” she said, laughing and crying at the same time. “Don’t do that again.”

  “I’ll try,” I muttered. “No promises.”

  Somewhere behind her, the wind shifted. The battlefield was quiet now. The rift was gone. The monster was dead.

  And I wasn’t quite the same anymore.

  The remaining demons, those few unlucky enough to still be alive, staggered, confused, and briefly blinded. We didn’t give them a chance to recover. Allira moved quickly, leading the final cleanup, her combat spells pounding like thunder through the rain.

  Allyson, Marlena, and I dropped onto a cluster of dark rocks nearby, our legs heavy with exhaustion. Eight golems stood silently around us like sentinels, their steel bodies steaming from the aftermath.

  “How many did we lose?” I asked, not taking my eyes off the low-hanging clouds above.

  “None, Master,” Allyson replied calmly. “These six here sustained damage, but they’re still mobile. They’ll walk back to the tower for repairs. Lady Allira is remarkably well-suited for command; the tower has not noted this ability in many years. ”

  That was good news. For once, we’d made it out with minimal cost.

  Rain started to fall, light at first, then more steady, cold drops streaking down my face and soaking into my clothes. I stood there and let it. The battlefield reeked of ash and blood, but the rain cut through the smell, washing the air clean. For the first time since stepping onto this ground, I could breathe without gagging.

  Part of me reasoned it was just backlash and an atmospheric shift after the rift sealed. That may be true. Maybe not. I didn’t care. The rain felt real. Cleansing. Like the world itself was trying to scrub away the filth we’d just endured.

  I tilted my head back, closed my eyes, and let it fall.

  “Allyson,” I said after a moment, “send word to Seraphina. Let her know it’s done and that we’re alive and okay.”

  She nodded. “Already done, Master.”

  I whispered a quiet thank you just as faint hoofbeats sounded from the direction of the outer wall. Reinforcements, maybe. Or a cleanup crew. I didn’t look. Our golems took a defensive stance when they saw the approaching troops.

  Instead, I turned and pulled Marlena into a hug. She leaned into me, warm despite the rain.

  “Want to bet me that prick of a mage is with them? I want a cake if I’m right.” I asked, half-joking, half-serious.

  She shook her head slowly and jabbed me with her elbow. “I’m too tired even to want to think about him. Or his family. Just ours.”

  I tightened the hug. “You’re the best. So, no cake then?” She smiled and then gave me a deep kiss. When she pulled away, I stood waiting for the approaching horses.

  Their horses slowed to a stop, hooves sinking slightly into the wet, charred earth. The Prince dismounted first, followed by the Duke, and because fate has a sense of humor, that insufferable mage trailed behind them with his usual smug expression. The rest of their escort, knights and mages alike, remained mounted, scanning the battlefield with cautious eyes. Our golems stood down once we identified which troops had arrived.

  “Congratulations, Earl,” the Prince said as he approached. “Once we saw the light, we came. It appears the rift has been successfully closed.”

  “Yes, sir,” I replied calmly. “The team executed flawlessly. General Allira is covering the area now, handling any demon survivors.”

  The Duke stepped forward. “You look like a mess, Earl. How many did you lose?”

  “We ran into some notable obstacles. We lost none, sir. A few combat golems were damaged, but once we’re back, they’ll be repaired.”

  “Fantastic creatures, aren’t they?” the Duke mused, nodding at the golems with evident admiration.

  The mage scoffed loudly, showing his disdain openly. I didn’t even glance his way. He wasn’t worth it.

  Just then, I caught movement from the corner of my eye, Allira, walking toward us in her distinctive orange armor, mud and demon gore streaked across the plates like war paint. Behind her, the rest of the golems marched, their towering frames humming with residual magic. She stopped beside me, eyes sharp as ever.

  “My husband,” she said, her voice steady and commanding, “the field is clear. All remaining demons have been eliminated.”

  “Thank you, my dear wife,” I said, wrapping my arm around her and giving her a sideways hug.

  At that moment, both Mage Halden and I reached out a hand to Marlena. Without hesitation, she took mine and let me pull her up. I noticed the mage flinch just briefly, but it was there. A tiny crack in that porcelain mask of arrogance. I didn’t say anything, but inside, I smiled. Let him stew. Let them all learn she chose me.

  “Sirs,” I said, turning to the Prince and the Duke, “I think it’s time we got some rest. I can go for a nap myself.”

  They laughed, surprised but not offended by my tone. The Prince gave his uncle a pat on the back.

  “So, Earl, I guess the General owes us a few pints.” Duke Alaric stated with a hearty laugh.

  “That’s why my father likes David so much,” he said with a grin. “See you at the encampment, Earl.”

  They mounted up and rode off toward the gate, their silhouettes gradually swallowed by the grey mist rolling in with the rain.

  I turned to my two wives, taking in the sight of them, one armored like a storm, the other graceful and calm in her mage’s robes. “Well,” I said with a tired smile, “I guess that the king likes me after all. Also, didn’t we pull this whole thing off splendidly? Let’s get something to eat. I’m thinking of cake.”

  I stretched, muscles groaning, and finally took a long look at the battlefield. Up until now, it had been a blur of steel, blood, and survival. The air still carried the acrid smell of demon ichor, with smoke drifting low across the ground like a shroud.

  Marlena leaned on Allira, her eyes tired and heavy. “Everything okay, David?” she asked softly.

  “Yes,” I said, forcing a breath. “Just… taking a moment to slow down.”

  “You have to admit,” Allira murmured, following my gaze toward the horizon, “the mountains do look pretty.”

  She was right. Stark ridges rose in the distance, etched against a sky finally clear of storm and fire. Beauty, even here.

  When I turned, I caught sight of the two golems, the ones who had appeared when I needed them most. One bore a shield split nearly in half, a deep scar carved across its helmet. The other stood caked in mud, the earth clinging like blood to armor. Silent, waiting.

  I walked toward them, Allyson at my side. As I drew near, the entire line of constructs turned, their glowing eyes following me. I stopped before the battered pair.

  “I want to thank you for what you did,” I said quietly. Oddly, I felt something stir inside me at that moment, warmth, almost happiness. Why? They weren’t supposed to feel. But maybe I was.

  “They only did what was necessary to protect you,” Allyson said evenly.

  I reached up and brushed the clotted dirt off the one’s helmet. “You’ll see better without this,” I muttered. Then, louder: “Thank you. Again.”

  For a heartbeat, I stood there with them, man and machine, bound in something unspoken. Then I turned and started walking toward the gate, boots sinking into the wet earth, and the others falling into step behind me.

  The battle was over.

  Priest Bausan climbed the stone steps to the battlements, his robes dragging across the dirt of shattered masonry. From the top, the battlefield unfolded before him in a scarred landscape: yards of dead or dying demons covered the ground, their oozing bodies pierced with arrows. Steam rose from them as they started to rot, the air thick with sulfur and decay.

  Behind the walls, he looked down at the line of steel-plated golems arranged perfectly behind the gate. An army of black iron, motionless and patient. At their head stood Earl Robertson, flanked by his three companions: his armored wife, Allira, and, surprisingly, his general, who was shouting orders with the authority of a seasoned commander. The other two were mage Marlena Valen and the construct “Allyson”.

  The twin gates groaned open, trembling under their own weight, as the golems advanced in unison, causing the ground to shake beneath their steps. Bausan hurried to the other side of the battlement just in time to see the constructs pour out like a flood of steel. Allira’s voice was sharp and clear, guiding them into a defensive wall around the Earl. Smaller demons rushed to meet the golems, shrieking through the fog, only to be struck down, some by the golems, others by volleys from the walls.

  The gates slammed shut behind the last construct, and the sound echoed through stone and bone alike. Beyond the wall, the fog shifted as larger demons appeared, hulking shapes emerging from the haze. Each one was taken down in turn, none of the golems faltering, their formation never breaking stride as they advanced toward the Rift.

  The Earl and his party vanished into the mist. The clash of steel and the horrifying screeches of the demons echoed back, making Bausan’s stomach churn. He whispered fragments of prayer under his breath, unsure whether they were for victory or protection. Then came silence, a silence so deep it gnawed at the nerves of every soldier along the wall. He could hear them murmuring that it hadn’t been this quiet in weeks.

  Then came the flash.

  The world turned white. A blinding light appeared on the horizon. Bausan’s knees buckled. Heat surged over the battlements in a single, unbearable moment. Soldiers shouted out, some clutching their faces. A voice yelled, “Get down!” and many obeyed, throwing themselves flat. The wall shook as a fierce wind struck, flinging debris into the air. Several soldiers were thrown screaming from the gangway.

  When Bausan staggered upright, the sky had already torn open. The dark clouds that had lingered for weeks were gone, ripped apart to reveal a vast, incredible blue. Only the moans of the wounded filled the air.

  The priest’s hands trembled as he made the sign of prayer. What did the Earl do? Light brighter than the sun. The golems fought as if judgment itself had taken form, every strike final, every movement absolute.

  Power that even the gods had not deigned to grant to their faithful. His lips whispered a prayer, but the words felt hollow. Was he asking for a blessing? Or forgiveness?

  The gates slammed open again. A squad of knights charged through, the Prince himself leading the way north toward where the light had fallen.

  Bausan stayed on the battlements, frozen in place, unable to follow. For once, he didn’t know how to describe what he had seen for the Bishop. What words could reveal a man who called himself Engineer but wielded a light that tore the sky apart?