Liora shivered. Through her eyes, Adarin took in the battlefield—quick, practiced glances scanning the scene.

  A vast city sprawled before them, three concentric walls encircling a citadel that burned with incandescent fire while a storm churned above.

  Obsidian-black barricades stretched toward the horizon, pointing at two pale fortresses barely visible in the haze.

  In the hills beyond, two armies clashed—blocks of pikemen and archers, cavalry skirmishing atop horses, spiders, wolves, and stranger beasts.

  He noted hulking armored giants—twice the size of a man—charging enemy lines. Beyond them, a massive camp swarmed behind the city, banners fluttering.

  Liora’s breathing slowed, awe softening her face. A small, unbidden smile tugged at her lips as she drank in the sight.

  Rüdiger inclined his head. “I’m sorry,” he said. “But I’ve found people adjust faster if you just toss them into the sky. I do hope the view makes up for it.”

  She nodded, still smiling, and turned to the blaze at the city’s heart. “Who’s winning?”

  Rüdiger chuckled. “Well… the greenskins brought everyone. Two hundred thousand at least. We’ve got a bit over a hundred.”

  He paused, grinning. “Of course, goblins aren’t people. Our mages are better trained. Gotta hand that to the Conclave—and the Church. They raise competent fighters.”

  A wind curled around them, thick with blood. In the distance, fire blossomed across the hills. Seconds later, thunder followed.

  Adarin nudged her with a mental prod. 'Wonderful. Ask him what the hell his plan is—and what we’re actually meant to do.'

  She tensed beneath him. 'Stop telling me what to do,' she growled.

  Rüdiger nodded and gestured off to the side. “See? That was the medical post you were captured at.”

  Liora’s eyes widened. “How…?”

  Rüdiger chuckled. “A basic scrying spell, once I met you. You’ll be doing that kind of divination soon enough, ja?”

  She nodded, then glanced over the battlefield—at the undead mass gathering below. “So… what do you want us to do?”

  Rüdiger pointed toward one of the wide streets leading into the outer citadel. A shattered tower clawed at the sky like a buried hand. “You see that? Your goal is to reach it.”

  Adarin jabbed her mind. She groaned aloud, and Rüdiger laughed. “He is a persistent bastard, ja?”

  Liora gave a sheepish laugh. “Right. He probably wants to know why you’re going there.”

  Rüdiger straightened, clasped his hands behind his back, and squared his shoulders. His tone sharpened. His gaze turned cutting. “The short of it: I’m ordering you, as a Margrave of the Crusade. Reach the tower. Hold it. And do listen to your little friend.”

  He gave a casual wave, already turning away. “We’ll meet again at the tower. Try not to die—and watch for those.”

  He pointed down the street—where a swarm of goblins surged through the ruins, swarming a human formation. Then Rüdiger blurred and vanished into the sky.

  'Bastard,' Adarin muttered.

  Liora chuckled. “Well, he kind of is, isn’t he?”

  Adarin smirked. 'Yeah. Now, I believe you’ve got some corpses to raise, girl.'

  Liora straightened and scowled. “Don’t call me girl. I’m Liora, an Acolyte of Mother Ishna. What should I call you, evil spirit?”

  'Evil spirit works as a call sign. If it pleases the acolyte.' Liora shut her eyes and growled.

  Adarin chuckled. 'Captain Adarin, Internal Security. At your service.'

  He tensed, bracing for outrage, fear—anything. She didn’t give a damn. Adarin refocused and scanned Liora’s mind. Nothing hidden. Nothing buried. Does she really not know what the Internal Security Service is? Who she’s carrying around in her skull? Interesting.

  “Hello,” murmured Liora.

  Adarin rubbed his chin. 'Sorry. I got distracted.'

  They drifted back to the ground. Liora touched down with quiet precision. Johan approached, fussing with his hair and tugging at his robes as if the battlefield were a ballroom. His gaze lingered in all the wrong places.

  Liora bristled. Adarin sighed and massaged his temples. Please don’t tell me he’s going to flirt.

  “Milady, I—I, Johan—” He held out a hand with a half-bow.

  Liora gave him a practiced smile. “In the name of the Holy Mother Ishna, I greet you, Johan.”

  She glanced at the undead horde. The formation was crude—spears mixed with axemen, a few archers clustered in the back. Some had nothing but torn tunics filled with stones.

  “Yes, milady. The company is ready, but some of your—” he pointed at the wolf corpses “—pets still need waking.”

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  Liora nodded and turned to the wolves, leaving Johan standing awkwardly behind.

  Adarin chuckled. 'I believe it is customary to dismiss your subordinates instead of ignoring them.'

  Liora froze, threw a quick glance behind her, then hurried to the wolves. Adarin chuckled.

  The moment the last four wolves rose, the pack circled her. She strode straight down the center of the street. Adarin stayed silent—until she waved Johan forward like some parade officer.

  He cleared his throat. 'What do you think you are doing?'

  She stopped, tilted her head. “I am leading the zombies to battle.”

  Adarin groaned. Why am I in the body of a civilian idiot? 'Look. “Leading from the front” is a phrase, not a suicide pact. Leaders stay back to see the field. Issue commands. So unless you want both of us dead—get in the middle. One-third to two-thirds back.'

  Liora opened her mouth to argue, but suddenly stones shifted and debris tumbled from a broken wall. A cluster of goblins slipped from behind the ruins, two raised shortbows as they screeched in excitement. Liora froze, eyes wide. The goblins nocked arrows and drew them back, black metal glinting in dim light. The wolves snarled, exhaling clouds of icy breath, just as Liora began screaming. “What do I—what do I—Mother protect!”

  Adarin roared back, shoving his thoughts into her skull. 'Get down behind the wolves!'

  The goblins shrieked and let fly as Liora dropped. She hit the ground hard, and winced in pain.

  Adarin hissed at her, feeling both their hearts beating in unison. 'Get on your fucking knees and show me what the enemy is doing.'

  She sniffled, then tensed as she looked up. A line of goblins was charging. Arrows flew—too many. By sheer luck, Liora remained unscathed. Her wolves weren’t as fortunate, and their whimpers filled the air as they were pincushioned.

  Adarin glanced at the undead. Combat-ready. Frozen. 'Order them to attack. Now!'

  Liora thrust out her hand pointing at the goblins. Her voice grew shrill and spittle flew as she screamed. “Kill them!”

  The undead surged forward with the slow certainty of a rising tide. Adarin calculated their speed. The goblins would reach them first.

  Liora saw it too. “Follow me,” she whispered to the wolves. She crawled forward, knees raw and bleeding, flanked by the growling pack. Adarin felt her panic spike, felt her taking in deep, rapid breaths of the cold air tainted with rotten meat and wet dog stench. Then—an arrow slammed into her thigh from behind. She screamed and collapsed, rolling over. The goblins were drawing again.

  The zombies arrived. Spears leveled. Shields locked. The undead swallowed the next volley whole. One took an arrow through the skull and crumpled on top of her. She shrieked again.

  Adarin ground his teeth. 'Calm the fuck down.'

  He pushed against the chaos in her head, but it was all static. He tried sending calming thoughts again, but it was as if spitting into a maelstrom. This isn’t working. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

  He inhaled, steadied, and spoke loud and clear. 'So, girl. Maybe you’re only capable of killing your own—too weak to face an enemy who fights back.'

  Liora froze. Rage bloomed—hot, sharp, tangled with grief. “What did you just say?” she hissed.

  'That you only kill friends and family. Because you’re too weak to face someone who fights back.'

  She froze. Took a deep breath. The air reeked of blood, feces, and rot—laced with the cold sting of magic. Liora barely registered the pain.

  Adarin shook his head. 'You are full of adrenaline, girl.'

  She yanked the arrow out with a grunt. Blood spilled down her thigh. She pressed her palm to the wound and channeled energy into it. The bleeding stopped. Adarin felt the muscle knit back together.

  She opened her eyes. Crushed between the legs of the undead, she moved to rise—'Keep your head down, or you’ll get us both killed,' Adarin hissed.

  Liora snarled. “So what do you suggest we do?”

  'Find Johan. Impose order. Kill them all.'

  She nodded, barked a few short orders, and slipped through the mob with the wolves at her side.

  Adarin scanned the battlefield. The undead, told only to advance, had formed a wall of bodies. The front line was a wall of tangled bodies locked in place, and behind it the street was littered with mangled corpses. This can’t keep going on for long.

  Pushing through the reeking dead, Liora spotted Johan in a doorway—quarterstaff in one hand, conjuring a sphere of pale energy with the other. As she approached, Johan hurled the orb. It arced slowly through the air and detonated in a flare of blue light beyond the undead.

  Johan’s eyes went wide. “You’re alive!”

  “Yes. And no thanks to you. What the hell were you thinking? You almost got me—”

  Adarin nearly screamed. 'He is not to blame here. You ran out without talking to him or me!'

  She stiffened, blinking hard as tears threatened to rise. “I don’t want this.”

  Johan chuckled. Adarin felt Liora’s impulse to slap him and shut his eyes. I need to take control before this escalates.

  'Liora,' he said, voice level. 'Tell him to get the stone-throwers and archers in position. Have them start bombarding the goblins.'

  Liora glared at Johan. Then the rot, the blood, the screams—all of it—dragged her back to focus. She shook her head and turned. The front line was a wall of tangled bodies. Behind it, strewn corpses littered the ground. Liora straightened and her Wolves yapped excitedly at her flanks. Ahead in the melee between undead and green skins, steel flashed unbidden and goblins shrieked.

  She sighed and tightened her fists on a Nexus of ephemeral purple control strands. Johan gasped, and waved his hands as if they had been burned, as the strands left his fingers and flew towards Liora's outstretched hand. “Stone-throwers, archers—fall back. Begin bombardment.”

  They obeyed in eerie silence, gathered rubble, and hurled it with unsettling accuracy. The occasional arrow almost got lost in the hail of projectiles. Screeches erupted from beyond the zombie wall. Liora and Johan exchanged a grim smile.

  Adarin watched, already shifting to the next problem. 'Liora—'

  She exhaled, half-turning. “Why do we need to do anything more? Isn’t it—”

  Adarin groaned. 'Because we don’t know what’s happening. We can’t see the little green bastards. See that building across the street?'

  Liora scanned until she found the shattered townhouse.

  'Yes. That one. You need to get up there—look out the windows. Then give orders that won’t get us all killed.'

  She swallowed her anger and crossed the street without a word. Johan hesitated, then followed. The wolves trailed her like shadows. They ducked behind the zombie lines, heads low, as arrows thudded into flesh. Adarin considered praising her—but the images in her mind were cold and bitter. She might explode if I say anything she doesn’t need to hear.

  They reached the entrance of the ruined house. The moment they stepped inside, something slammed against the cellar door. It shuddered. Snarling rose from below. An axe cracked against the door, splintering wood. Hisses and excited chatter seeped up through the widening gaps. Before Adarin could give new orders, the door burst open, and a dozen red eyes gleamed in the darkness below.

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