The abomination lunged straight for Derek, ignoring Isabelle, Tunga, and Alyra.

  It wasn’t just a monster, it was a slab of screaming flesh. Bones jutted at wrong angles, tendons snapping wetly as it moved, every step landing with a nauseating squelch that shook the ground. The air stank of copper and decay. Death itself, finally here to collect.

  His chest locked, breath cut short. NOVA, crippled as it was, couldn’t take a single blow from that thing.

  The HUD exploded in flashing yellow and red, warnings piling so fast they blurred into one word: run.

  But NOVA couldn’t even do that. Not anymore. With a snarl, Derek lifted the warped black blade fused to his arm and hurled himself at the beast.

  The legs answered with a sluggish, clunky step. Push any harder and he’d be kissing mud again.

  A white flash shot past him.

  Derek barely had time to see Isabelle lunging at the thing, her massive sword leveled like a spear, both hands locked on the hilt. She drove the point toward the center of its warped bulk. Maybe hoping there was still something like a heart in there.

  The creature lashed out with a hoof so fast he almost missed it. Isabelle cut off her thrust, twisting into a parry—but the impact still hurled her flat on her back.

  Tunga seized the moment and cast a fire blast. Smaller and slower than usual, but it landed. Flesh sizzled, smoke curled… the monster didn’t even twitch.

  Then it was as if something else struck it. The creature let out a sound—half groan, half sigh. Pain? Really?

  Derek narrowed his eyes. Odd. Isabelle’s blade had bounced, Tunga’s fire had barely singed it, and yet—

  He glanced down. And understood.

  Alyra clung to its side, pounding with her tiny fists. Each blow sank into the rotting gray flesh like punching into curdled cream. Disgusting, but soft.

  The strikes from Isabelle and Tunga had bought her just enough distraction to slip in unnoticed. But how could she be doing damage when nothing else had worked?

  The monster whipped its cluster of eyes around, searching for the source of its pain. Tunga’s fireballs still weren’t doing damage, but they kept it disoriented, blinding it.

  Derek closed in, hefted the unwieldy scythe, and swung down in a brutal arc. This time, he aimed straight for the center mass. The violet glow racing through the blade’s alien veins flared as it struck.

  The weapon slid into the abomination’s bulk as if the flesh weren’t even there. Then the body reacted—meat swelling around the blade, splitting open with a wet crack. Black ichor geysered upward, hissing where it splattered on the ground. The monster reeled, its cluster of eyes rolling in fury.

  Isabelle was back in a flash. She drove her sword to the hilt and unleashed a torrent of electricity. The creature convulsed, limbs jerking and twitching in wild spasms.

  Derek wrenched his blade free, shifted his stance, and rammed it in again.

  The surge of electricity sputtered out.

  The monster shook off the shock and clamped its remaining claw around him.

  NOVA groaned as fresh error messages bloomed across the HUD like red flowers.

  His heart lurched. Structural integrity plummeted another ten points. He was right on the edge. One more second and the armor would collapse in on him.

  A sharp cry cut through the chaos.

  Alyra had hurled herself at the creature’s warped arm, clinging with both hands. Her fingers dug deep, and black fluid streamed down her arms.

  The abomination roared and released him.

  Derek didn’t hesitate. He swung the blade upward in a savage arc, cleaving the entire limb off in a spray of black ichor.

  Alyra let go just in time, stumbling back. Half her body was drenched in the dark sludge, her wide eyes the only patch of white left on her face.

  Derek struck again. He didn’t know why the creature had stopped regenerating—and he didn’t care. No arms left. Soon, no legs either.

  He brought the blade down on a joint that looked vaguely like a knee.

  The monster roared, but couldn’t escape the blow. The leg snapped halfway through, and the hulking mass crashed forward with a grunt that sounded more like a whimper than a growl.

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  Derek struck again, heedless of the overload warnings flaring from NOVA’s actuators. Isabelle and Tunga piled on, hacking and blasting.

  Alyra just stood there, staring at her hands.

  Derek didn’t have time to think, let alone process anything. All he could do was keep cutting, slicing off chunk after chunk of that seemingly endless body. Faces, eyes, snouts, horns, they flashed past him, and he kept slashing.

  Time melted away like a lucid dream, drenched in blood, flesh, and death. He’d killed this thing before, and every time it had crawled back. Not this time. He wouldn’t stop until even its memory was erased.

  So he cut.

  And cut.

  Isabelle fought at his side, her blade alive with arcs of light as she carved through twisted limbs and heads. Strike after strike, they moved in unison, steel and fury pounding in a relentless rhythm.

  Then there was nothing left to cut.

  Isabelle eased her sword down, the glow fading from the edge. Her face had drained of color, paler than he had ever seen it. She dropped to one knee, bracing on the blade to keep herself upright.

  Derek halted, chest hammering like a flood-swollen river. Each breath scraped against the helmet, rough and uneven, the rasp of forge bellows. He looked at her. “What about Elias? Still out there stirring up trouble?”

  She shook her head. “You won’t have to worry about Elias anymore.”

  Derek gave a sharp nod. Better not press. The sight of her, pale and leaning on her blade, already told enough. A Warden of Orbisar forced to cut down one of her own, a priest, no less.

  The HUD blinked, a new notification flickering into existence, wrapped in static and half-buried under error codes.

  ||Auric Level increased.||

  ||Bronze Level 3 achieved. Available upgrades: 1.||

  Another.

  ||Auric Level increased.||

  ||Bronze Level 4 achieved. Available upgrades: 2.||

  And another.

  ||Auric Level increased.||

  ||Bronze Level 5 achieved. Available upgrades: 3.||

  The massive black blade on his arm retracted with a sound like chains scraping across a tomb, leaving NOVA’s arm back in its normal shape.

  Derek’s shoulders dropped. The strain melted from his body like ice breaking after a long winter. Three levels at once. He had never climbed so high in a single fight. Just how powerful had that creature been? Maybe the system had counted every undead cut down in Ebonshade.

  Tunga lowered himself to the ground, resting his staff across his lap.

  Isabelle, chest heaving, let her sword slip into the mud and limped toward Alyra.

  The girl just stared at her, mouth open.

  “How are you feeling?” Isabelle asked.

  Alyra kept staring, unable to answer. Her arms hung limp at her sides, eyes wide and dazed.

  Isabelle gripped her shoulders, met her gaze, then pulled her into a tight embrace.

  Derek looked at them, a knot tightening in his throat. The universe really had it out for this kid.

  Alyra didn’t respond. She didn’t hug back. She didn’t even seem to notice.

  “Derek?” someone called.

  His pulse faltered. Yuki?

  No… not her. “Talk to me, Vanda.”

  “It’s over. The energy field that was holding that entity together has fully dispersed.”

  “Good. Took it long enough.” But Vanda’s voice didn’t sound nearly as relaxed as it should have. “You holding something back?”

  “There’s a group of individuals approaching. Based on their energy signatures, they appear to be connected in some way to the creature you just destroyed.”

  Derek glanced at the mini-map. Seven red dots, closing in from the north. The temple was that way and beyond it, nothing but dense jungle. His gut tightened. “Please don’t tell me they’re more undead.”

  “Negative. Their body temperatures are normal.”

  Isabelle stepped up beside him. “What is it?”

  What, could she read his damn mind now?

  Derek popped open his helmet. A wave of heat, rot, and death slammed into him, and he almost threw up. He swallowed hard, forcing the acid back down with a grimace.

  “Looks like we’ve got company. Someone’s coming. And for once, they’re alive.”

  Isabelle turned south, scanning the road that led to Rothmere. “Sacred Guard soldiers?”

  Derek shook his head. “They’re coming from the north.”

  Her eyebrow rose. “The north? But there’s only—”

  “The jungle,” Tunga finished for her, his voice low. “Even Nakori not live there. Strong creatures hide in that place. Powerful spheres fall from sky. Long ago, Silver ones fell too.”

  Derek’s brow rose. “Silver, huh? Whoever’s coming went through hell to get here.” And if they’d made it out in one piece, they’d better be friendly. None of them were in any shape to fight. And wouldn’t be anytime soon.

  Seven figures emerged from behind the temple, a hundred meters out. They moved slowly, draped in black cloaks with hoods pulled low over their faces. Once past the temple, they spread into a line, shoulder to shoulder, and advanced in perfect unison. Like soldiers on parade… or worshippers in some ritual procession.

  Derek was about to find out which.

  He, Isabelle, and Tunga stood side by side, waiting.

  Something touched his armored hand. The sensors carried the sensation with startling clarity. The soft, cold grip of a small hand. Alyra. She stood beside him, silent, her eyes locked on the approaching figures.

  She didn’t look like the frightened child who had clung to them on the way to Rothmere. She had just walked through hell and somehow looked almost ready to step into it again.

  And it didn’t feel like she was holding his hand for protection.

  It felt like… she was the one trying to protect him.

  The seven stopped ten meters away. Around their necks hung golden pendants, each etched with a symbol Derek had never seen before. It looked like a stylized hourglass, inverted, in shades of black and violet.

  It definitely wasn’t the emblem of Orbisar. No golden circle with radiant beams. That much was obvious.

  Derek let out a slow breath. Great. Another cult. Because this world didn’t already have enough lunatic fanatics crawling out of every hole.

  He just hoped these ones weren’t about to call him a messiah too.

  The figure in the center stepped forward. Broad shoulders. A hint of a dark beard visible beneath the hood. He raised a hand.

  Derek raised his own in mockery. “Vanda,” he muttered under his breath, “got any idea who these morons are?”

  “Scanning. No alarming energy spikes detected. But if you keep calling them morons, I suspect that may change.”

  “Are you the ones who destroyed our golem?” the man asked. His voice was firm, commanding.

  Derek frowned and waved at the butchered remains littering the field. “This thing was yours? Huh. Funny, I could’ve sworn the local priest summoned it with his stick.”

  “The priest was under our control. After the energy of Life overwhelmed his mind, we were forced to intervene… to contain him.”

  Derek scratched his beard, nodding slowly. So that’s how Elias had managed to call up something that strong. It hadn’t been just him. These Death Cult fanatics had juiced him up. “So you’re the ones responsible for all this?”

  The man hesitated, then gave a small shake of his head. “The Death Cult had settled here long before us. This land is sacred to us. The soil is rich with Life. Crops thrive. The dead walk among the living.”

  So they were tied to the Death Cult?

  “That priest,” the hooded man continued, “he disrupted the sacred balance between life and death. As soon as we felt it, we came. He was the one responsible. We came to restore order.”

  Derek clenched his fists. “And your brilliant solution was to have him build that abomination? That’s how you thought you’d help?”

  “The golem was a punishment. For Orbisar’s Church meddling with the sanctity of Death.” He gestured toward the wrecked houses. “Its mission was to wipe out this village, then march on Rothmere, so the High Priestess Uriela herself would witness its power. Only then would she order her priests to stop interfering.”

  Isabelle stepped forward. “You’re madmen. You risked a massacre just to make a point.”

  The man turned to her. “And you, Warden. I trust you’ll carry this message to your superiors. We want nothing more than to live in peace with our loved ones, living and dead. But do not mistake that for weakness.” His voice dropped, resonant and cold. “The creature you fought here was nothing.”

  Derek chuckled. “Yeah, your respect for the dead really shone through. Taking all the bodies of Ebonshade’s poor citizens and cramming them into one giant, rotting meat puppet? Truly moving.”

  “Derek…” Vanda’s voice chimed in his ear. “You’re in no shape to play the tough guy.”

  He ignored her. “And let’s not forget the livestock! Mixing human heads with cow heads into that nightmare of flesh and bone. Real artistic touch.” He tapped his chest. “Had me right in the feels.”

  The man didn’t flinch. “Death is not always beautiful. Sometimes, it is grotesque. But it must be, for life to shine as brightly as it does.”

  Derek snorted. There it was. Every lunatic in this world had some deep, poetic-sounding crap to justify their atrocities. “And yet, you’ve got no problem destroying life. Especially when it suits your territory.”

  The man nodded as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Exactly. Life and death. Two sides of the same coin. Passing from one to the other means nothing to us… and neither does deciding when it happens.”

  Derek shook his head. Pointless. Arguing with a fanatic was like playing chess with a pigeon. You make a logical move, he knocks the pieces over and shits on the board.

  “Now that the message is delivered,” the hooded man said, his voice hardening as he pointed at Alyra, “we’ll be on our way. But first, the girl. She belongs to us.”