The Horned Man had declared his intent. We weren't foolish enough to give a monster the first attack.

Even if he were a bronze level creature, albeit a very high-tier one, monsters beyond the copper tier generally required strength in numbers to defeat. A bronze tier beast was very often the superior to an average adventurer of the same tier. Monsters could level themselves up much the same as the races of men, elves, and beast folk could; but the attributes we all had were multiplicative on top of their holder's natural power, and monsters very often had more to multiply on top of than any trained person.

"Now!" Arthic shouted.

I was the closest to the wild spirit and thus the first to strike at it. I extended my [druidic aura] to spread through the Horned Man as I lunged forward. And I felt his presence push through my own.

I didn't falter in my lunge, however. After experiencing the life-force of the fauns and the ancestors of Forbas, I was prepared to feel the disorienting presence of the spirit within my aura. Or as prepared as I could ever be.

Mile stayed back and moved to give me a better view of the battlefield with our bond and shared senses.

The Horned Man charged forward towards me as well, but lost his momentum soon after words of power poured from my mouth and echoed through my aura's expanding reach.

I poured [growth] and [direct flora] into the long grass surrounding the Horned Man. The grass shot up with a force to wrap around his arms, yanking them and his upper body against his movement.

In the moment that I had before the spirit snapped the grass free from the purchase of the ground, I reared back with all my strength and drove Mytharis through his furred side; I aimed just below his ribs, meeting flesh and avoiding catching on bone.

One side of my blade's edge pierced deeply, my own strength surprising me with its ferocity now that my brawn attribute had tiered up. Blood followed the thrusting of Mytharis, but the Horned Man only snarled, sounding more angered than pained by my blow.

I dove forward and break-rolled under one of his massive arms as he slashed at me.

As I came up to a knee, Rosaria darted in from the side of the numina that had lashed out towards my head. With the spirit's body still turning, she slashed her weapon across herself towards the spirit's muscled and stringy quad. She too drew blood, but her cut was not as deep as my own had been.

The spirit, despite his height, was not a slow being. His other arm recovered the momentum of his previous strike and, as I was coming back to my feet, whipped its hand toward my childhood friend.

Rosaria brought her sword up to defend herself, perhaps not fully expecting the Horned Man's speed. She deflected the bark-formed claws but was forced back against the sheer strength of the spirit as well.

The Horned Man, only becoming faster with each of his slashes, whipped his other arm towards her after the first.

She deflected his claws once and then again, rotating off of her own parries. At the second exchange, my eyes caught a blur of connection against her side, and she shouted in pain.

I didn't remain idle. I allowed mana to pour over Mytharis and let loose a violent [wind scythe] from off of the blade's length as I cut it down through the air.

The Horned Man turned towards me, somehow sensing my spell.

From the corner of my perception, I saw the glare of a sigil flash, and the Horned Man snapped his beady eyes towards Garron instead.

With a snarl, the numina shattered the spike of earth that was flying towards him with a backhand; just as my released and bladed scythe of air tore into his chest.

The creature's snarl resonated more deeply as he whipped himself around and swung towards me as shattered rock peppered his body.

The numina's incoming arm was a blur that filled my vision. Life-force exploded out of my soulcore on instinct, focusing my eyes and muscle fibers as I activated [strike redirection].

Mytharis' edge guided the incoming claws away from me.

Another earth spike flew at the Horned Man, but vines erupted from the earth and smacked it down.

I again rolled under another of our enemy's slashes.

"It can cast spells without incantations!" I warned my party and remembered how I often used my druidic aura to keep track of enemies as well. "And I think it can sense where you are without seeing you!"

With the Horned Man's focus diverted back to me, Arthic rushed past Rosaria and guided his war maul towards the back of the numina's knee with a mighty swing.

The spirit kicked its hoof backwards towards Arthic. His swing halted, and the exposed portions of the squire-captain's skin flashed with some form of skill as the spirit's hoof impacted him. Instead of going flying or having every bone in his body broken, he merely slid a half-dozen feet through the grass. One of his hands kept a hold of his weapon, but his iron chest plate was dented deeply. Arthic looked shaken, but he did not crumple.

With the Horned Man off balance and leaning forward, I lifted my fist towards it. The roots I'd brought back from crepusculum stirred to life around my forearm.

With only the smallest bit of will and mana needed, I sent the pointed and hungry roots towards the eyes of the Horned Man. They found their purchase and gored into its skull. I could feel their glee and their hunger as they absorbed portions of the spirit's ancient life-energy and mana. Off-shoots sprouted from the length of the roots and begin to wrap around the monster's head. They used their stolen energy to fuel their attack, growing more violent and animated the longer they bored into their target's flesh. There was a reason I hadn't used the roots against Cedric or even the fauns. They were not a tool suited for restraint.

The Horned Man howled and grabbed ahold of the roots, which were still connected to my arm. With a violent jerking of his body, he ripped them from his eyes and lifted and flung me off of my feet with them.

I felt Mile's shock over our bond and saw myself go flying through the dog's eyes.

I grunted as my free shoulder connected violently with the ground as I rolled from the impact. I heard a loud pop in both of my arms. Wet, aching, pain rolled through my limbs.

Before the Horned Man could do much more to me, Rosaria slashed through the roots I'd extended and left the spirit holding only one disconnected and bloody tipped end of their length.

The end of the roots extending from my arm retracted to settle back into a writhing bracelet over my wrist. I did my best to push myself up with the more intact of my injured sides. I barely managed it as other much thicker, sharpened lengths of living wood that I did not command ripped out of the ground and drove towards me.

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I didn't see Garron come up from behind me. I did see him, however, as he slammed his palm to the glade floor and a sigil flash raised two walls of earth to our left and right to intercept the incoming tree roots. There was a loud impact as the roots dug and cracked into the outside of the hastily constructed barriers.

"Are you alright?" Garron asked me.

"I'm okay," I replied. "Thank you."

The pain in my arm was bad, but it was already receding as [mending] flowed through my aura and into them. A tendon had been torn, but not all the way through, and a ball-joint dislocated; knitting myself back together was more than manageable, even if my vision grew bleary from the pain. I just needed a few seconds.

"You stain my flesh with soul-stuff!" the Horned Man bellowed, the now mush-filled hollows of his eyes seeping with dark, raw blood. "Yet sight is not bound to eyes—I see without them, pretender! I see each of you in your young futility!"

The Horned Man raised his arms as his voice rolled like thunder. The earth shook as further sharpened tree roots tore from it all around us.

Rosaria and Arthic backed towards us, covering our exposed front. Mile retreated even closer to me than they and growled menacingly at the spirit who'd harmed me.

"I'm fine! Garron! Bind him!" I shouted to everyone. "I'll cover you! Rosaria, Arthic, help me!"

The earth mage rushed forward and slammed his hand to the ground once-more, directly in front of our enemy.

My left shoulder clicked itself back into place as I ran forward with my companions. Rosaria spun, sundering roots with her blade. I batted one length of animated wood away, and Arthic again surprised me with his dexterity when he did the same with his maul.

The earth itself heeded Garron's call and rose up once again, this time to encase the hooved legs of the Horned Man.

I shouted an incantation of my own and pushed my will into two of the roots which the Horned Man controlled. I felt the resistance of the ancient spirit's intent meet mine, but he was controlling many roots, and I focused only on two. I fought the touch of his mind back from the roots he'd brought out from under the earth and ordered them with my voice and mana to heed me instead.

The Horned Man shook backwards in what may have been shock, as the sharpened roots I'd wrestled control over each pierced through one of his wrists and then curled around his arms before yanking them apart and towards the ground.

Rosaria and Arthic charged forward.

I heaved from the exertion of my efforts. So too did Garron.

Before either Rosaria or Arthic could reach the Numina, the body of the Horned Man writhed and became less than flesh. His fur untangled itself around where I'd pierced him with his own roots and became a mass of undulating bark and vines. The lower half of the shapeshifting spirit did much the same, and where his legs had been encased with stone, heavy tree limbs burst through and shattered the earth that Garron had bound him with.

The now plant shaped legs of the Numina, barely even looking like legs anymore, barreled forward, and he lowered his still-horned head.

His charge was violent and direct.

Rosaria was knocked aside by a back-handed sweeping of his clawed hand.

Arthic bellowed a war cry and, without hesitating, intercepted the Horned Man as the spirit charged directly towards Garron and I. I saw a burning hatred in the spirit's eyes.

The body of the squire-captain shimmered, as too did his maul, and life-energy exploded from him. The hammer-face of his weapon cracked violently upon the side of the numina's blood-covered face, sending a flash of his skill energy directly into the spirit's skull.

The monster lashed out with his vine-arms as its head was slammed into the ground side-long, and the spirit's claws tore Arthic's cuirass from his body as it fell.

Mile launched himself forward, and so did I.

Arthic fell back multiple steps as the half-plant, half-bestial monster writhed quickly up into a feral crouch. I could feel the abject agony rushing through the knight-to-be's abdomen as Arthic shakily stood his ground.

The Numina lunged towards Arthic with a violent, crouch-cast thrust of its claws; the vines that made up its arms stretched and propelled forward its pointed hand, but I was already where I needed to be.

I shoved my own palm forward, made the sign of a [lesser ward], and a sigil flashed before me. My [shield] formed rapidly as I spoke a word of power to further quicken its formation that Luke had taught me during our study session. The word, spoken in the arcane tongue and infused with my panicked mana, distorted into inarticulateness and crashed into my magical barrier, giving it the final push it needed to become truly solid.

The Horned Man's fingers, formed into a spear, lengthened and thundered against my shield. My arm shook, my signing hand vibrated painfully, and my shield shattered as the Horned Man's strike rebounded off of my magical barrier.

I staggered backwards.

The spirit was fully standing now, his body reforming into something that resembled flesh, and he lashed out again. In a tackle that nearly sent us both sprawling, Mile collided with me and narrowly pushed me out of the way of the spirit's follow-up strike with his growing weight.

Rosaria moved like a whirlwind and rushed in front of Arthic, who had now fallen to a knee. Her sword cut deeply into the again-flesh of the spirit's slashing arm. Skill energy flashed along her blade and emanated off of her biceps as her weapon turned into a whirlwind that severed one of the Numina's fingers.

Garron drove forward toward the Horned Man next, a sigil flashing in front of his palm once more; sweat poured from his brow as he launched an earth spike directly into the spirit's stomach.

The Horned Man was staggered and bent backwards by the force of Garron's spell.

Feeling weakened beyond nearly anything I'd felt recently, I realized that I too needed to seize the moment. If we allowed our enemy to get his footing again then we'd be too weak to fight it.

Mytharis hummed in my hand as I charged forward, and my mana poured out of me.

I still had one card to play.

Tapping into the last drops of my mana, I once more ordered the grass of the glade to ensnare the legs of the Horned Man. I then funneled my will and [wind-affinity] attuned mana down my arms to coat my sword once more.

Bastion had once told me that Mytharis could slowly store my life-force as it naturally leaked from my body and that it could release it all at once, roughly only once a month at my current attribute levels. I'd felt the sword calling to me in recent weeks, desiring to pierce deeper, strike harder, and cut more deeply before, but I'd never been forced to allow it to.

Now I willed the blade to do just that and I felt that it somehow heard my intent; its metallic length erupted in a vibrant, sky blue brightness as it pierced into the space beneath the Horned Man's sternum. Mytharis sung with a resonant ringing, its usual humming now loud enough to fill the air audibly. The blade sunk with my fury into the Horned Man all the way to the sword's jeweled hilt.

The Horned Man screamed and grabbed me, sinking his claws into my arms and forcing me to my knees as he bent over me.

Through my agony, I released the wind mana I'd coated Mytharis with, and urged it to pierce him even further. If [wind scythe] formed a cutting edge, then I now willed into existence a spear of puncturing air directly into the body of the spirit.

I felt the lance of wind, directed off of Mytharis' glowing length, as it forced itself out through the back of the Horned Man.

[You have acquired the Wind Lance spell at the novice level.]

My eyes grew foggy, and my hands began to loosen on Mytharis as the Horned Man's claws ripped large chunks of flesh from my arms in his own agony and anger.

I screamed. I could only scream at the agony.

Mile's indignation resounded like hot fire over our man bond. The dog soared over my head in a leap that I was shocked his half-grown legs could manage. The dog's teeth latched onto and tore out the throat of the Horned Man.

Rosaria rushed by me next, her own blade coated in skill-energy.

"Shield-Breaker!" She screamed and thrust her sword into the chest of the Numina as well.

Her sword shimmered with flecks of lavender and seafoam as it cracked through the ribs of the Horned Man and pierced the spirit's heart.

As Mile fell to the ground, taking with him a large section of the spirit's throat, Arthic's maul crashed once more into the head of the spirit.

The squire-captain stumbled and nearly fell from his injuries as another earth spike drove into the already bloody eye-cavity of the now collapsing spirit.

I followed the body of the Horned Man to the ground; my arms screamed in agony as the spirit's claws slipped wetly and limply from the channels they had torn into my flesh. My hands lost their hold on Mytharis' handle as the sword's blue glow died away.

I then, to the surprise of my pain-addled mind, felt Mile make a decision over our mana bond.

I'm sorry, he said and I felt him swallow the flesh he'd torn from the Horned Man. Need to protect you too.

The glade all around us began to shift and fade.

[Mile has activated his born trait Consumption. He has absorbed the Spirit Sight trait.]