A tide of shadows and snarling flesh, encircling Raelyn and her companions at the base of the hill. Claws scraped wet earth, wings beat against the storm, and fanged maws twisted into grotesque snarls. The sound of them—wet slithers, gurgling growls, bone against bone—rose over the wind and rain like a dirge. They closed in from every direction—too many to count, too many to fight.

Raelyn's pulse pounded as she stood amid her companions. Mud sucked at her boots, her robes clinging like a second skin. There was no room left to retreat. No shelter. No choice.

Hovan's voice cut through the roar, firm and commanding. "Lira. Thomrik. Now!"

Thomrik moved first. With a growl, he stomped forward and lifted his warhammer overhead, the embedded gems along its face flaring with molten light. For a moment, the weapon hummed with restrained power, casting flickers of orange and gold across his soaked beard.

Then he slammed it into the ground.

A resonant boom cracked across the hillside as the runes along the handle blazed. The impact sent a ripple of force bursting outward, tearing through the ground in a shockwave that lifted demons into the air and hurled them backward. Their bodies collided mid-air with sickening crunches, limbs tangling before they slammed into the mud in twitching heaps.

Before the air had even stilled, Lira stepped forward. Her soaked auburn hair whipping around her face. She raised both hands and took a deep breath before speaking with a powerful voice that resonated in the air.

"Válo!"

The word rang like a bell across the battlefield. The storm around them responded instantly. Wind gathered and surged with sudden fury, swirling into a focused gale. Rain turned sideways. Demons stumbled mid-charge. Some were flung backward, their feet skidding helplessly across the mud. Others were buffeted to a halt, pinned by invisible force.

The line fractured.

"Move!" he barked, charging into the break Lira and Thomrik had carved.

Benji was already beside him, sword flashing as he followed the opening like a drawn arrow. Sylvy surged forward next, twin blades flashing as she launched into the fray with a battle cry, her soaked braid whipping behind her like a banner.

Benji met the first demon head-on, his sword slicing upward to deflect a jagged blade of bone. He spun with the motion, driving his blade deep into the creature's abdomen and ripping it free with a grunt. Beside him, Hovan was a wall of steel, his strikes measured and brutal, the gods' weapon cutting through flesh with relentless force. Sylvy was pure momentum—her curved blades gleamed as she danced between enemies, ducking and leaping, her strikes clean and merciless.

Raelyn's hands glowed as she fired glyph after glyph into the chaos, her bolts of golden energy cutting through the rain. A tall, hook-limbed beast surged past the others, heading straight for Hovan's exposed side. Raelyn focused and thrust her palm forward—one of her glyph bolts struck it square in the chest. The bolt seared through its hide, singeing flesh and muscle. The creature shrieked, stumbling sideways with a lurch, clawed limbs flailing as it lost its momentum.

Hovan turned at the sound.

He pivoted, planting one foot firmly in the mud. The gods' weapon arced upward in his hands, slicing through the creature's collarbone and into its neck in one clean stroke. Blood fanned out in a wide spray, and the beast collapsed at his feet, twitching once before going still.

Hovan didn't pause. He stepped over the body and into the next wave.

Raelyn lifted her hand again, sending another glyph spinning into the fray. It struck a demon bearing down on Sylvy, giving her just enough of an opening to dart in and sever its leg at the knee. Another bolt veered left, hitting a brute aiming to flank Benji—its shoulder ignited with a burst of light, forcing it to stumble back under his blade.

She kept firing—quick, precise, exhausting.

The swordfighters moved like threads in a tightly woven cloth, and she was the weaver, stitching protective fire between them.

A low snarl cracked through the noise to her right.

Raelyn turned, heart leaping, and saw a demon barely a pace away—its eyes glowing, its arm raised, claws gleaming like curved blades in the rain. Too close. Far too close.

She gasped, instinctively raising her hands to shield herself—

—but Rakz struck first.

With a savage growl, he hurtled into the demon's side, his body a blur of saphire. The two crashed to the ground in a spray of mud and blood, Rakz's jaws already locked around the creature's throat. They thrashed violently, but only for a moment. Then the demon stilled, and Rakz stood panting over its corpse, his eyes still burning.

Raelyn stared at him, breath ragged, her voice caught behind the lump in her throat.

He didn't look back at her—he was already turning to face the next threat.

"Good boy," Raelyn murmured, her breath shaky. But there was no time to linger, she couldn't lose focus for even a second.

Lira's voice rang sharp through the din. "Féranai!"

Raindrops midair turned to jagged glass, hardening into crystalline shards that whipped sideways with the wind. Dozens of demons screamed as they were impaled, frozen slivers tearing through exposed joints and soft underbellies. The assault halted a whole flank in its tracks.

But one demon still made it through.

A lithe demon broke from the edge of the frozen barrage and sprinted toward Lira, shrieking as it ran.

"Lira!" Raelyn cried.

The demon was fast—thin and long-limbed, with spines down its back and glinting eyes locked on the elven druid. It darted low through the wreckage of bodies and ice, claws extended, jaws unhinged with a shriek.

But Danio was already moving.

He let out a rough yell as he lunged in front of Lira, Snapstaff gripped in both hands. The first swing connected with the demon's skull, jerking its head sideways with a satisfying crack. But it didn't go down.

It snarled and lunged again, claws scraping across Danio's shoulder—he grunted in pain but didn't stop. He brought the staff down hard on its back, then again across its jaw, then again—relentless. Rain flew with each strike, mixing with blood and spit. The demon screeched, thrashing wildly, but Danio pressed forward, eyes wide, breath heaving.

"Get—off—her!" he roared between strikes, punctuating each word with another savage blow.

The final swing landed with a sickening crunch. The demon went still, half-submerged in the churned-up mud.

Danio stood over it, panting hard, soaked to the bone and streaked with blood. He didn't look triumphant—he looked wired, rattled, but resolute.

Lira stared at him for a moment, her chest rising and falling, strands of wet hair stuck to her face. She blinked, surprised... and grateful.

Danio turned just enough to glance at her. "I got you," he said. "Don't stop."

Lira gave a small nod, the faintest smile tugging at the corner of her lips. Then she turned back toward the chaos, fingers already rising, preparing her next spell.

Raelyn didn't even have time to thank him.

Sylvy vaulted over a fallen beast and landed with both blades buried into the back of another. She spun through the fray like a storm, each movement deliberate and deadly. Her swords flashed again, carving open another demon's throat before she flipped back from a retaliatory strike. Blood sprayed, catching the wind.

Near her, Thomrik let out a grunt of effort as he drove his warhammer into the chest of a charging brute. The impact cracked bone and split flesh, hurling the creature backward in a heap. He pivoted without pause, smashing the hammer down on another as it lunged from behind.

It was chaos—screams, steel, magic, rain. And still, somehow, they held.

Raelyn scanned the battlefield. Everywhere she looked, there were demons—but more and more of them lay still. She blinked through the downpour, disbelief threading through her pulse.

They were holding. They were winning.

Maybe... maybe they could do this.

Thomrik lifted his hammer and pointed it toward Hovan, who was locked in a duel with two snarling fiends. A shield of glowing runes erupted from the earth between Hovan and a third demon charging from the side. It crashed into the barrier with a screech.

"Go!" Thomrik barked.

Hovan didn't hesitate. He drove the weapon of the gods through the first demon's gut, spun, and decapitated the second. As the third snarled from behind the shimmering shield, Hovan stepped forward—and Thomrik released the magic. The barrier blinked out, and Hovan cut the demon down before its claws even landed.

They moved like a machine. Like something forged through endless trials. Everything they had gone through had readied them for this. The trust in each other was apparent with every synchronized attack.

Raelyn stood at their center, sweat pouring down her face, her chest heaving. Her fingers ached from channeling too much, too fast. But the power still flowed. Glyphs sparked from her hands—she wouldn't stop now.

A warning shout tore through the storm.

"Raelyn!"

She turned just in time to see a spear of light hurtled toward her.

Instinct overrode thought. Her fingers carved a circular glyph in the air with barely enough time to summon a Shield of Light. The barrier snapped into place just as the spear collided, cracking against the translucent surface in a burst of searing gold. The force sent her stumbling backward, boots sliding in the mud.

She caught her balance and looked up.

Through the swirling rain, a figure emerged between two advancing demons—unhurried, untouched, grinning.

Folainn.

He moved like the storm didn't exist, long strides slicing through the chaos. His black robes clung to his frame, soaked and wind-whipped, but his face bore no strain. Blond hair slicked to his temples, sharp jaw lifted in mocking delight. The glow of active runes shimmered faintly around his fingers.

"Baragor's growing impatient," he called over the din, voice smooth and biting. "He's asked us to speed things along."

His eyes locked on Raelyn. "Baragor said to make it quick. But I'd rather enjoy this."

Benji stepped forward, sword raised, soaked hair plastered across his brow, demon blood dripping from his sword. "You'll have to get through me first," he growled.

"Oh, I plan to," Folainn said with a smirk, "but let's make it fun, shall we?"