A hovering pair of chained blades zipped away and stabbed the first Irontooth Rat that closed in on Thorin through the gap in the protective barrier. The blade broke the skin and shredded its flesh before getting stuck in its bone.

  Papercut: Hoarfrost!

  Thorin yanked the chain back with a thought, dragging the screeching rat, and shoved several frozen paper blades down its throat. When it thudded on the ground and died in a spreading pool of blood, its companion trampled the corpse and leapt on him. The chains snapped together in a cross to block its teeth. It chomped at the links, leaving little more than a scuff. Its claws thrashed against them.

  Not a scratch.

  Deathbolt!

  The seemingly endless source of mana left a smile on Thorin’s face as he shot a dark ball through the struggling rat’s head. The spell guzzled the mana from his vessel, but the surrounding thick fog rushed in to fill the gap. His mana vessel was full again before long. The second rat’s corpse barely hit the ground. Two more rushed in. The attraction of the mana tide had surpassed the apprehension of seeing the same kind die. They refused to back off.

  Thorin let the chains fly and stab the walls and the earth in a web formation before him, blocking the rats’ advance. He could use the chains to dodge their attacks before killing them with his spells. But he was defending the cave right now. If he evaded and let a rat in, the consequences would be disastrous.

  While the rats rampaged against the web of chains, while Thorin bombarded them with one spell after another, the buzzing swarm in the darkness inched closer.

  “You can use fire spells against the insects, if you have them,” Iver reminded from behind as he strained himself to control the spell array. “It’s fine to use them now.”

  “Alright,” Thorin said, finishing a cast of

  and locking the remaining rats with the frozen paper vines. The frosty ice sustained the damage and pushed them closer to death. They were the last batch of Irontooth Rats for his side. Now, all that was left for him was the swarm of insects. They were fatal in this tunnel, especially for those who didn’t have area-of-effect type spells. Luckily, what came at him weren’t the Fire Mosquitoes that were resistant to fire spells but the Venomous Moths. He could deal with them with his new fire type fusion spell.

  Yet, in seconds, they proved him wrong and killed his confidence. When they came closer, as he prepared the spell model, their fluttering wings spread the purple powder towards him. His heart thumped and his eyes shook. Even if he burned them all, the toxic smoke could prove disastrous in the confined space.

  “Fuck! It’s the moths!” Iver cursed. “Pull back! I’ll close the array!”

  “Can it hold on?” Thorin asked. “There are too many of them.”

  “I don’t know,” Iver replied, his brows furrowed with unease, his forehead sweating. “But you can't burn that powder; it’ll do more harm. We’ll all die a gruesome death.”

  Others broke their meditation and looked at the two in concern. If needed, they were ready to either support the defense with Thorin or bolt with everyone. Such was the agreed plan. Just that the collapse happened way too early.

  “They shouldn’t be here,” Wolf said. “This is not their territory.”

  “Perhaps the outside situation with the Direwolves and the Silverfield affected the tunnels too,” Casper said, readying several vials of his potions. “I’ll clear out an exit, run in my direction when we leave.”

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  “Wait, let me try first,” Thorin said, holding a deep breath in his chest just in case. Fire wouldn’t work with the venomous powder, but wind could. The rats had all died, so his chains were free now. He deployed them all and swirled them before him. The dust and the pebbles on the ground shifted. The wind gradually picked up as the chains rotated faster and faster. The blades scratched the earth and the walls. But even his best fell a little short as the moths also fanned their wings.

  “It’s not working,” Casper said with worried eyes.

  “It’ll work!” Thorin gritted his teeth and sped up the chains with a grating growl. His spirit strained from the exertion. But finally, the gust he created offset the moths’ combined effort, even when their buzz loudened. Nevertheless, the conclusion still lingered in the limbo with neither side capable of pushing for victory. “Can anyone…create more wind?” Thorin asked, panting, as the strenuous task popped his veins. Before anyone answered his call, the shy Ghost he’d seen before zipped out from the corner to his side and streaked towards the moths. Its rush boosted the wind and gave it the edge it needed with the added chill. Their combined efforts pushed the venom powder back. Soon, it left the combat space, and the Venomous Moths hovered naked.

  They realized the change, and the swarm reeled back. But they couldn’t run far before the counterattack came.

  “Paperball,” Thorin grunted. “Firebomb!” With a howl, he launched a burning ball of paper at the moths. It left a blazing trail in the dark tunnel and seared past the gap to reach the swarm as the orange spell circle faded away. When it hit the target, the paper-ball collapsed into ashes, and a cloud of fire erupted in the area. Fragile as they were, the raging fire reduced the insects to cinders. Their ashes sprinkled the earth when the fire died down.

  “Are they dead?” Iver asked.

  “Yeah, I’m done for now,” Thorin said, looking intently at the Ghost that helped him, his heaving chest easing down. It frolicked around the lingering fire but deflated when the orange tongues died down. When the spell array flickered and blocked Thorin’s side of the exits, the Ghost turned towards him and met his gaze. After a second of contact, it screeched threateningly at Thorin and rushed into the corner that it hid behind before.

  “Quin! It’s your turn!” Iver yelled.

  Quin matched the savagery of Wolf with his spell, as if competing in whose battles would end bloodier. His blade bit into flesh and drank deep with each swing, splashing him in warm red as he carved through them. Seconds passed, and he whittled down the enemies that charged him with bloodshot eyes and no regard for their lives. There were no nasty surprises of insects on his side luckily, and only a horde of rats greeted him. Since the population of Irontooth Rats in these tunnels surpassed every other species, as they bred like no tomorrow, they were always the vanguard for these events. The Wailing Bats would greet them as well in the second or the third wave, Iver said.

  Soon they did, when it was Clay’s turn again. The symphony of their scraping screeches left ripples in the protective cover. The unabated damage of the sound waves even made Thorin woozy who meditated on the other side of the cave, and Clay took the brunt head on. But he stood fast with a wide stance as his ears bled. Since the bats flitted in the air, they were a bad matchup against his . So, he fell back on his old method of using his spell. With his cast, a fistful of pebbles pelted the bats.

  The first wave died from the assault, but soon the second wave filled the gap. Clay repeated the cast and chipped down their numbers. But the pebbles he carried were losing to the massive flock that had knocked on his door. When he finally expended his ammunition, Clay endured a combined barrage of wails that shook him and rushed in to pick up the corpses. At this point, he couldn’t worry about the intact loot earning them more. He ripped apart his kills with his bare hands, cracked their bones, and rained the bone shards on the remaining bats.

  His enemies were bloody, and he was even more so. At last, he unleashed his Onyx Shot for the final blows and stood atop their corpses alone. Injured, but unbroken.

  “Just hold on a bit longer,” Iver said. He looked at the blood-drenched figure of Clay wobbling back to his seat then glanced at the others. Everyone in the cave was exhausted and beaten up to some extent, some more than the others. “Soon, the mana surge will enter a period of ebb. We’ll be able to rest and heal then.”

  Thorin heard his echo, but it soon faded away from his consciousness. He let himself drown in the comforting radiation as he sank deeper and deeper into the meditation with the over-abundance of mana around. His ‘Spirit’ rose by the hour. 4.26…4.27…4.28…

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