With the first axeman finished and the numbers finally even, it didn’t take long to crack the bones of the remaining Ossari. The warrior fell to Julian’s Firebreak Mantle-infused strikes, and Hannah exploded the first bone archer with Critical Mass. Seeing the battle was hopeless, the final archer, morphing into a ghost to dash between the trees, decided to run. Harvey didn’t hesitate to chase, using Booster in short bursts to keep up with his ethereal form. He was faster, but the Ossari’s movement skill outlasted his own. Luckily, Buttercup didn’t need essence to keep the archer in sight, and his gold and green-tinted antlers burst through the skeleton’s chest when his essence finally ran out.

  Radiant light burst from each of their weaves as soon as Hannah confirmed his demise.

  Your class, Forgefire Arsenalist, has reached Level 33. +4 Vitality, +4 Endurance, +16 Wisdom, +6 Willpower, +6 Free Points

  Getting closer to a new skill every day, He smiled. Deciding his Willpower was finally high enough for his plan to work, he put the 6 free points into Dexterity. He’d already struggled landing heavy blows on the weaker beasts, and now that he was fighting sapient warriors whose skill with their weapons far outclassed his own, he needed a speed boost to bring his power to bear. His split focus between Strength and Wisdom meant he wasn’t likely to overpower many of his enemies with raw stats, so he’d need to rely on creating opportunities with his equipment before striking a decisive blow.

  “That went well,” Julian huffed, running his hand over the dozen gashes cut into his armor.

  “I’d say so,” Harvey agreed. “Other than the part where Hannah shot me.”

  “We both called it!” she complained.

  “Hey, better you both take a swing than neither of you. It does feel a little weird to call out our targets like that, though. Feels like I’m back in little league,” Julian chuckled.

  “I’m sure it’ll become instinct eventually, but for now we can’t read each other’s minds,” Harvey said.

  Looting the corpses, they found the same weapons, armor, and Corpse Dust the others used. Harvey didn’t know whether the equipment came from their home world or was standard-issue gear the System provided, like the stuff the Veilstriders used, but it seemed like there wasn’t much variation among the soldiers. They all used similar skills, sharing the same basic concepts. The fact that the archer had a unique movement skill proved that the army didn’t necessarily force their soldiers to create certain skills, but it did suggest they were given some form of plan to follow.

  “Should you be using this many arc charges?” Hannah asked, picking up the orbs covered in singed dirt. Her hand recoiled as a tiny bolt leapt to her finger, frizzing up her tangle of blonde and white hair.

  “They’re reusable,” Harvey answered. “The crystals fill back up as long as I keep them outside a slipsack, so as long as they aren’t damaged, I can keep using them.”

  He deactivated the arrays and put the arc charges in a normal bag that appeared from his slipsack. It was a leather satchel with a long strap, but wearing it over his bulky armor made it look more like a purse than he’d like to admit.

  “Ooh, pretty. Where’d you get it?” Hannah mocked.

  “Laugh it up,” Harvey sighed. “What do we do next?”

  “Same as before. Go rest by the mountain and take out any raiding parties the hawk finds for us. We need the army to think there’s a large force still living in Veils End, so the more Ossari we kill in the area, the better.”

  Returning to the Outpost, they spent the next 2 days hunting, crafting, and trapping. Harvey restricted himself to a single batch of ink per day, but still managed to forge a few more arc charges in between raids. Every Ossari raiding party they killed was easier than the last, as the seed that was their playbook sprouted into budding competence. Not only did their growing Wisdom help them process the battlefield faster, but it also helped them drill ideas into their minds until they became instincts.

  All the fighting was enough to give Harvey another Class level, pushing Forgefire Arsenalist to 34 and his Race to 36. His next skill was so close he could taste it, and quite a few ideas floated around his mind while he hammered away in the forge. He wanted something that could turn the tides of battle while being cheap enough to use consistently. Fangburner, Flamestrike, and Fireball were simple, repeatable skills he could use almost constantly without making a noticeable dent in his essence reserves. Booster was a powerful movement skill that could increase or redirect his momentum at need, and Innovator’s Arsenal was the finisher that could kill hard targets fast at a massive cost.

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  Something to fill that gap in the middle would be crucial when the final battle came, but he’d have to survive the escape to the Hell Hotel first.

  Every day, he felt like the sky got a little bit darker. The pale white light of day grew a little grayer as clouds filled the sky. For the first time since they arrived, heavy rain fell on the forest, turning the dusty dirt road into a muddy puddle outside the smithy door. It actually helped him a lot, concealing any traces of the holes he’d dug while burying the arc charges.

  I really hope the wildfire charges can still burn through this, he wondered, staring out at the gloom.

  “We’re starting to run out of food,” Hannah said.

  “Something tells me we won’t have to wait much longer,” Harvey replied.

  “Can we go over the plan again?” she fussed.

  They’d all been increasingly on edge, ruminating whether their decision to stay at the Outpost was smart or suicidal. Both Harvey and Hannah had suggested leaving, but Julian’s unyielding confidence and his Unbroken Sentinel-infused aura kept them from succumbing under the pressure.

  “Sure,” Julian smiled, patting Buttercup’s neck. “If we see a group of 10 Ossari or less, we fight. I’m guessing we probably don’t want to use any arc charges if it’s raining like this?”

  “I think we can,” Harvey hesitated. “I should be able to keep the lightning away from us.”

  “Ok, then we fight like normal. If there’s more than that, we hide inside the Outpost until we figure out what their intentions are. If they attack, Harvey detonates the traps, and we book it. Run like hell until we can’t run anymore, and then we crawl if we have to until we’re safe inside the hotel. If they start spouting off about converting us like that missionary did, we tell them most of our people are hidden inside the mine,” Julian explained.

  “Hopefully, that will get them to follow us inside so more soldiers are in range when I detonate everything,” Harvey said.

  “I still don’t know how I feel about just letting them in. What if they snatch us up and we can’t escape?” she asked.

  “It’s a risk, but one we’ll probably have to take if they give us the chance,” Harvey sighed. “Most of the arc charges are buried in the clearing, but there’s just not enough room out there to hit more than a tiny piece of the army. It’s better if we get them to follow us in.”

  They talked in hushed tones as Harvey finished a batch of arc charges. He didn’t know why, but something inside him knew they were the last creations that would ever come out of this forge. Pulling a wildfire charge from his slipsack, he placed it on a workbench in the corner before packing all of his tools and high-grade materials into a slipsack.

  “What are you doing?” Hannah asked.

  “Packing up,” he answered.

  “You’re placing the wildfire orbs already? Didn’t you say the ink was unstable?” she continued.

  “Yeah, they are, but they’ll last at least a few days. Something tells me we’ll need them before then, so I figure it’s time to get them all in place.”

  Harvey trudged through the mud, his feet getting sucked into the ground as he roamed the Outpost. First, he placed a charge in the general store. The mirror that was once John’s shop was now just a mirror, reflecting his battle-scarred armor, disheveled, wet hair, and tired eyes. Some of the old rope he and Gabe had found when they first searched the Outpost still sat on a shelf behind him, and he used it as a nest for the destructive metal ball.

  Then, he walked to the church. The myriad colors from light streaking through broken windows to reflect off the Loom’s spools of thread were gone, leaving the same dark, dusty church he’d carried zombie bodies out of before creating his first skill. Harvey sat in a creaking pew and listened to the rain pelting the roof. It reminded him of the snoring Veilstriders who’d called this place home until the System sent them off to the Hell Hotel. For them, this room had been a haven away from the darkness and confusion outside. Not only their home, but the home of the Loom, proof that the System’s arrival hadn’t just brought monsters, but magic.

  Moving to the empty space where the weaving apparatus once stood, he gingerly set a wildfire charge on the floor.

  Building by building, he set his traps. When they were all ready, he moved to the forest, where old Carrionwing nests and holes in tree trunks became homes for his destructive magic. Part of him was sad to know Veils End would burn, but the other part felt liberated.

  Harvey had grown a lot over the past weeks, changing from a man who couldn’t bear the weight of work, love, and life to someone who could stand strong in the face of monsters and magic. Veils End had been the cocoon to protect him during his transformation, and now he was breaking free of its walls and venturing out into a new magical world.

  His hand trembled as he placed the final charge. Not because he was cold, although the freezing rain was doing its best to worm its way inside his armor. It trembled because he knew his home would soon be gone.

  KRAAAATH!

  A deep, powerful roar rumbled through the forest like the toll of a funeral bell. Harvey’s heart skipped a beat as his head snapped towards the sound. He didn’t see anything, but he felt a bone-deep chill shudder through his body. The rain came down hard, obscuring his vision as he searched the clouds above. He waited, frozen like a statue, until a shadow appeared. He could barely make out two large wings, bigger than any Dirgebat or Carrionwing they’d ever seen before. What he could see was the shadow getting bigger.

  “Harvey!” Julian shouted from inside the walls.

  Broken from his stupor, he sprinted toward the gate and struggled to yank it open. Once inside, he sprinted up the watchtower and ducked to peer through the gap in the boards that had become his peephole.

  KRAAAATH!

  “They’re here,” Julian declared.