As they walked, a soft chime echoed in Alistair’s mind.

  He blinked, then focused. A system window appeared, triggered by proximity and recent interaction.

  [Target: Brimma Ironknot]

  Race: Gnome

  Class: Earth Mage

  Level: 21

  Status: Active Spirit Guide Detected

  Affiliation: Unbound

  Disposition: Caution recommended

  [Subject has rejected Soulbond. Future attempts not advised without consent.]

  Alistair whistled.

  “Level twenty-one,” he said, loud enough for Kaelren to hear. “Our cranky grandma’s got some teeth.”

  Kaelren raised a brow. “That’s actually impressive.”

  Then he frowned. “Although… given her age, she’s kind of underleveled, isn’t she?”

  Alistair glanced over, curious. “You think so?”

  Kaelren nodded. “Come on. You saw her. She’s older than moss. Anyone living that long, out there, should’ve leveled higher. I get folks in cities, safe zones, kingdoms. They can afford to stop at twenty. But in the wild?”

  He shrugged. “There’s no rest. Beasts attack just because you're breathing. We’ve had tribes wiped out by fangboars, frostmanes, and plague crows, just in the last year.”

  Alistair blinked. “Plague crows?”

  Kaelren grimaced. “Don’t ask. It gets gross fast.”

  He continued. “And that’s not even counting goblins, hobs, glassfiends, rotwalkers, spinewolves...”

  Alistair made a face. “Spinewolves?”

  Kaelren nodded seriously. “Imagine a wolf made of nothing but ribcage and attitude.”

  Alistair snorted.

  Still, the elf’s point stuck.

  He thought of his father’s kingdom. Of the outer walls constantly patrolled, the townspeople trained for combat, the nobles constantly whispering about defense, expansion, control.

  Even established kingdoms couldn’t afford to let their guard down.

  “You’re right,” he muttered. “Even my father’s court had to stay ready. Power attracts everything, jealousy, ambition, enemy kingdoms, wandering monsters, cults...”

  He paused, then looked ahead.

  Brimma walked ten paces in front of them, robes flapping around her stubby legs like they were trying to catch up.

  “You’re surprisingly spry for your age!” Alistair called.

  Brimma didn’t even turn around.

  She raised her staff higher.

  And walked faster.

  They were walking single-file along a narrow ridge path, the cliff face to their right and the drop to a stream on their left. The sun was sharp above, the air still.

  Alistair was mid-sentence, something snarky about Brimma’s walking pace, when the world went white.

  [You have been affected by: Ashburst]

  Effect: Blinded. Magic Silenced.

  Duration: 3.0 seconds

  He stumbled. His vision was ash. Not fog, ash. Clinging to his lashes, biting into his mouth. Worse, it swallowed sound. His magic pulsed but fizzled. [Light Breath] wouldn’t respond.

  [Status Effect Applied: Arcane Silence]

  He heard Kael curse somewhere behind him. Brimma wheezed like a startled badger. Then came a second sound, wings.

  [Enemy Champion Detected: Ashborn Mothkin (Level 14)]

  Class: Ashveil Trickster

  Status: Active Threat

  Trait Identified: Skyborne Reflexes – Immune to reaction-based attacks while airborne.

  The ash thinned just enough for Alistair to see a figure gliding down from the ledge above, a cloaked shape with wide, soot-colored wings folded behind. Its eyes glowed like burning coals.

  “Kael, Brimma scatter!” he barked, blinking hard. No response. Either they couldn’t hear or were dealing with their own hell.

  He charged anyway, blades out. If he couldn’t see, he’d fight through feel.

  And promptly regretted it.

  The moment he rushed forward, a second figure lunged from behind a boulder to intercept him.

  [Enemy Champion Detected: Half-Troll Bloodmage (Level 15)]

  Class: Bloodstorm Juggernaut

  Status: Active Threat

  Ability Detected: Bloodlash

  The troll-thing stood nearly twice his height, rune-etched muscles flexing as it drove its fist into the ground.

  [Bloodlash – Activated]

  Tendrils of explosive blood lashed outward in a red ring. Alistair managed to [Ethereal Phase] just in time, skipping five meters to the left, but the air itself trembled from the blow.

  [Ethereal Phase – Activated]

  He rematerialized behind a jagged boulder, cursing softly.

  "Right," he muttered, coughing up ash. "We're off to a brilliant start."

  Kael’s voice rang out from above, gritty and hoarse. “Canopy’s gone. Vision’s trash. I’m moving!”

  Another arrow flew. Then a burst of roots.

  [Ability Activated: Rootlash Leap]

  Kael dodged backward from the skirmisher closing in, his roots snagging the foe's boots as he vaulted into a higher perch.

  [Enemy Champion Detected: Svirfneblin Skirmisher (Level 14)]

  Race: Deep Gnome

  Class: Phantom Bolter

  Unique Weapon: Phasebolt Repeater – Every 3rd shot ignores terrain.

  Ability Detected: Rootlash Leap – Cooldown Ready

  Alistair ducked as one of the phased bolts shattered the edge of the stone beside him.

  Where the hell was Brimma?

  A muffled curse answered that question.

  “You absolute dimwits!” she shouted from behind a larger rock. “This is why I work alone!”

  Another notification slammed into his brain:

  [Enemy Champion Detected: Fiendblood Tiefling Hexslinger (Level 16)]

  Class: Hellbind Duelist

  Ability Detected: Hexbind Chain – Warning: Area damage share in effect.

  A spectral chain lashed out, linking Kael’s perch to Alistair’s cover. That’s when the trap snapped closed.

  If Kael got hit, so would he.

  "Fantastic," Alistair muttered. "Shared damage. That’s just what I needed today."

  He slid out from the rock and bolted, sword raised. Somewhere, Kael shouted, “Behind you!”

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  He pivoted just in time to see the Half-Troll charging again. Brimma, despite everything, shouted an incantation and smacked her staff into the ground.

  A small spiked flower burst up beside Alistair, humming with latent power.

  [Support Structure: Spire Bloom – Active]

  Effect: Stamina regeneration + minor ranged resistance in area

  Duration: 20s or until destroyed

  “Finally!” he growled, diving into its radius. “Brimma, you're my favorite spider again!”

  "Watch your tongue, bloodsucker!" she barked. "Or I’ll shove this staff where the sun don’t shine!"

  Kael loosed another shot, [Rapid Notch] engaging. Two arrows, one after another, cracked through the haze and pinned the Deep Gnome to a tree trunk. It snarled and vanished into the earth.

  “Kael! On your right!” Alistair called.

  “Already moving,” came the reply. “Just say the word if you want your head unchained.”

  They were getting their rhythm.

  Even through the smoke, even through the panic.

  The Soulbinder bond pulsed faintly inside him. He couldn’t see Kael, but he could sense him. Close. Elevated. Focused. A tether of will, faint but steady, keeping their positioning in sync.

  It wasn’t much, but in this chaos? It was everything.

  [Damage Taken – HP: -47]

  [Alistair – Current HP: 93/140]

  [Status: Dazed (2s), Bleeding (Minor)]

  The Hexslinger’s blade hissed through the air, carving a shallow gash across Alistair’s ribs. A flash of red, a sting of pain and then worse, the sense of something linking inside him. A snap of energy, invisible but palpable.

  [Hexbind Chain – Active. You are linked.]

  [All damage taken will echo to bonded ally: Kaelren.]

  “You’re kidding me...” Alistair wheezed, stumbling back. “That’s just rude.”

  Somewhere behind him, Kael cried out.

  [Damage Echoed – Kaelren: -22 HP]

  [Status Shared: Dazed (1s)]

  His vision flickered. It wasn’t just the chain, it was the damn bond. He could feel it now. Not just a tether of souls, but pain, real pain, bouncing back and forth like bad poetry.

  He spun just in time to parry another strike from the Hexslinger, whose crimson bracers glowed with fresh sigils.

  “Hey Brimma,” Alistair shouted, deflecting with the Redcrystal sword, “you wanna be a terrifying spider now?”

  “Do I look like I can transform?” the old gnome snapped from somewhere behind a boulder. “It’s on cooldown! Three. Bloody. Hours!”

  A hiss of ash swept past, and Alistair ducked instinctively as another burst of choking dust erupted from the Mothkin.

  [Status: Silenced (2s), Blinded (3s)]

  [Magic: Temporarily Disabled]

  “Great,” he muttered, blinking through the gray. “More ash in the eyes. Just what I needed.”

  Kaelren’s voice rang out through the dust, faint but determined. “Moving left! Rooting the troll, cover me!”

  [Ability Activated: Tangle Shot]

  [Half-Troll Bloodmage – Movement Speed Reduced by 40% (4s)]

  Alistair swung blindly at the Hexslinger, who simply dodged and swept his leg, knocking him down.

  [HP: -12]

  [HP: 81/140]

  “Seriously?” he groaned.

  Behind him, Brimma yelled, “I told you two! This is why I work alone!”

  A spike of pain raced up his spine. Then, distant footsteps, Kael’s, thudded hard and fast. He was drawing fire again. Dammit.

  Alistair gritted his teeth and sprang to his feet.

  “Switch!” he bellowed. “I’ll take gray-face, you take red!”

  “Which red?!” Kaelren shouted back, dodging a bolt from the Deep Gnome’s repeater.

  “The one that looks like he bites!”

  “Oh great, that narrows it down!”

  Another spell lit the sky in purple, blood tendrils lashed out from the half-troll.

  [Ability Activated: Bloodlash]

  [Area Damage Detected – Kaelren: -31 HP, Brimma: -18 HP, Alistair: -27 HP]

  [Current HP: 54/140]

  “Alright,” Alistair hissed. “No more Mister Dashingly Underprepared.”

  He dropped low and launched forward, blade in hand. The Hexslinger met him with a smirk, but he wasn’t ready for the burst of speed.

  Alistair’s footwork blurred. A flicker of movement from Kael’s position alerted him, the wood elf was circling. He could feel it now. Not sight. Not hearing.

  It was the bond.

  Like a whisper in the back of his skull, Kaelren was on the move, watching his flank, holding steady.

  He struck again. This time, the Hexslinger blocked but Alistair spun, switching grip, and struck low.

  Behind him, Brimma slammed her staff down.

  [Spell Cast: Spire Bloom]

  A stone flower erupted behind a rock. The gnarled petals unfolded, pulsing faint light.

  [You are within range of Spire Bloom. Effects: Stamina Regen (Minor), Ranged Resistance +10%]

  “Don’t get used to this!” she growled. “You boys aren’t special!”

  Alistair ducked back into range. A crossbow bolt zipped past his head and clinked off the bloom. Kael swore. “Oh, bless your cranky little heart!”

  From the opposite flank, the Mothkin hovered above them, his wings flicked once, and ash sprayed again.

  But Alistair was ready. He closed his eyes and dashed through it, a blur of speed, tracking the presence of his bonded ally. Kaelren was moving right. That meant...

  Another hit slammed into his back.

  [HP: -19. Current HP: 35/140]

  [Status: Light Bleeding (10s)]

  “Y’know,” he muttered, sword raised, “I’m starting to deeply resent this Arena.”

  Brimma growled, snapping her staff upward as another ash burst forced her to duck behind a jagged outcropping. The air was thick with dust, her vision blurred. Her spells fizzled before they could even form.

  “That moth’s disrupting everything!” she shouted. “Take him down or I may as well throw rocks!”

  Kael grunted, already adjusting his stance. “On it!”

  He loosed a quick volley, [Rapid Notch] flaring, three arrows in the blink of an eye. The first clipped the edge of the mothkin’s wing. The second missed. The third phased through empty air as the creature corkscrewed upward, dancing between shafts of light.

  “Little bastard’s slippery,” Kael growled, nocking another arrow with a click.

  Meanwhile, Brimma’s cover evaporated as the bloodmage surged forward with a roar, blood tendrils writhing from his arms. Her eyes narrowed. “No time.”

  With a grunt, she stood her ground, leveled her staff, and sent a pulse of green energy slamming into his shoulder.

  [Spirit Staff – Basic Attack]

  Damage dealt: 21

  Target staggered

  “I said back off, you dribbling rune-skinned goat!” she hissed.

  Across the battlefield, Alistair twisted away from the hexslinger’s burning blade. The Tiefling was fast, but Alistair was faster. [Imbued Strike] surged through him, white light threading up his arm and down the length of the redcrystal sword.

  He pivoted, drove the blade through the gap in the enemy’s side armor and felt the pop of ribs splitting.

  [Imbued Strike – Critical Hit]

  Damage dealt: 73

  Status: Target Wounded

  But just as he turned to finish the kill, Kael’s voice rang out.

  “I’m almost out of arrows!”

  Alistair cursed. This day kept getting better.

  Then he heard Brimma cry out, her staff knocked wide, the bloodmage bearing down on her.

  Alistair didn’t hesitate.

  [Ethereal Phase – Activated]

  His body split into wisps of smoke and shot across the field. He reappeared just behind Brimma, blade in hand, eyes glowing.

  “Miss me?”

  The gnome woman shrieked. “Not now, batboy!”

  He stepped between her and the bloodmage just in time, baring his fangs. Thanks to the still-blooming [Spire Bloom], stamina surged through him like fire in his veins.

  He became a blur.

  One strike across the thigh.

  [Damage dealt: 39]

  A second up the forearm, redcrystal hissing.

  [Damage dealt: 51]

  And a third, deep and mean, into the side of the bloodmage’s gut.

  Critical Hit!

  Damage dealt: 82

  Status: Target Bleeding (Heavy)

  HP Remaining: 140 / 312

  But the fight wasn’t done. Not yet.

  Behind him, Kael growled. “Can’t hit him! Mothfreak’s dancing between branches!”

  He ducked another cloud of ash, wiped his burning eyes, and stared down at the five arrows on his belt.

  “I said I wasn’t gonna use it…” he muttered. “But screw it.”

  He reached down to his belt, fingers brushing one of the five precious arrows he swore he wouldn’t use unless it was big, dangerous, or both.

  The mothkin ticked all three.

  He nocked the [Gravebark Arrow].

  A low, throaty whistle escaped Brimma as the arrow began to burn like incense, the wood hissing, the air thickening with the scent of bloodroot and ash. Black petals flaked off its shaft like falling embers.

  Kael drew.

  The mothkin turned. Too late.

  FWOOM!

  The arrow split the air. Time slowed. The wings of the mothkin fluttered once in alarm before the arrow buried itself square between his eyes.

  [Gravebark Arrow – Activated]

  Critical Hit!

  [Enemy Champion Eliminated: Level 14 Ashborn Mothkin]

  EXP Gained: 425

  A faint cry echoed as the mothkin collapsed, his body dissolving into a fine gray powder.

  Kael let out a long breath. “Well. That worked.”

  Alistair spun to look, eyes wide. “Did you just...”

  “Yeah,” Kael said, breathless. “One arrow down.”

  Alistair turned back toward his opponent, raising his redcrystal blade. “Alright, I’m officially impressed. Though I loathe to admit it.”

  Brimma, crouched behind a boulder, wiped sweat from her brow. “If you two are done measuring arrows, maybe help me finish the rest!”

  Alistair grinned. “Don’t worry, granny. You’re in the hands of two elite killers now.”

  “Elite?” she snorted. “The mothkin had more elegance bleeding out than you swinging that sword like a drunk bat.”

  Alistair blinked. “Wow.”

  Kael chuckled. “I mean, she’s not wrong.”

  Alistair raised his sword dramatically, pointing at nothing in particular. “The betrayal stings deeper than any blade!”

  Brimma pushed to her feet and limped toward him. “Keep flapping that dramatic tongue and I’ll show you betrayal, vampire. Right between your ribs.”

  “Not the ribs!” he cried, clutching them protectively.

  She passed by with a smirk, her staff tapping against the stone. “Next time, leave the witty remarks to someone with fangs and brains.”

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