Will grunted under the weight of battle. His chest ached, and he had too many cuts to count. He hissed, dreading the scolding Crystal would give him later—if he ever got to see her again. She was on the other side of the river, trying to save the kids. Most of the fighters with him were level four hunters, well-trained and seasoned. All of them had lost someone or knew others who had. They carried the scars of a life filled with unending dangers. Will knew that most of them wouldn’t make it back. Still, they stood, waiting for the inevitable end.

"Hold," Jerkins called, his voice trembling. Fear and exhaustion had sapped every ounce of courage from the man. Will looked up to see the sky clear, the sun half-hidden behind a cloud, showering the world with light.

"A beautiful day," Will whispered. Then he heard the crack. They had come just in time. The space in front of them splintered. A large hand punched through the fabric of reality a hundred steps ahead, gripping the edge of a cosmic gateway. Will stared in awe. He had seen it happen so many times, yet it never ceased to amaze him. Another hand, filthy with blood and scars, tore out of the crack. The portal would form naturally, but the monsters were getting impatient. Some of the other hunters speculated that something strange had happened inside the tower, but Will didn’t think so. He had fought too many monsters and had come to realize one thing—the abominations emerging from the towers only knew how to destroy. It was their source of joy, and this was probably just another slaughter frenzy.

"Larry," Will called to his new friend. The man was large beside him, built like the trunk of a low tree. Fat met muscle, with a lot of southern nastiness. Larry growled in response. "Apologize to Crystal for me."

"Sure," Larry said. "Same for me? Agatha will curse my corpse anyway, but she should know."

"Or you idiots gut these freaks and go back to your wives," Brandon chimed in. He was the leanest in the squad, and the prettiest too. He fought like a gazelle—with grace and speed that made Will sick with envy.

Will chuckled. In his right hand was the single-headed axe he had been using for the past three months. He gripped the haft in both hands, trying to silence the echoes of his fear. He whispered a prayer for his wife and another for his children, wherever they were.

The hands pulled space apart, tearing the fabric of reality until the familiar shape of a gateway appeared. Its head emerged from the chasm, blue as a clean pool. Its face was grotesque, filled with weeping holes leaking dark fluid that dripped down the sides. As it fully stepped out, Will realized it had been bowing. The creature dwarfed them all, towering perhaps eight feet tall.

"My God," Brandon whispered, staring up at it.

Its body was as hideous as its face, covered in hair and scars—old and new. Its legs were probably as thick as Larry's. Will felt his heart pound in his chest. His grip tightened on his axe, and suddenly, all his wounds seemed to come alive, weighing him down with their agony. Behind him, someone dropped their weapon and fled. Will heard more footsteps retreating. He chuckled, laughing at himself.

In each of the monster’s four hands, it held a longsword, each blade patched with dark stains. It moved to the side of the gateway, still not looking at the dwindling squad of humans. It stood there, raised its hands, and howled.

The sound rattled Will's bones, shaking him to his core. His feet trembled, and for the first time since he became a hunter, he thought about running. Was it worth it? The fighting and the dying? He couldn’t see any hope in their struggle to survive. He had lost everything. His children were likely dead. Soon, he’d be too old to even hold an axe. Reality settled into him like a weight.

If you encounter this story on Amazon, note that it's taken without permission from the author. Report it.

"Ready!" Jerkins yelled, pulling Will out of his thoughts.

"You pissing yourself, Will?" Larry called, and Brandon cackled.

Will heard the tremor in Larry’s voice and noticed how brief Brandon’s laugh had been. They were scared too. They were just as terrified as he was, and yet they stood. They all knew they were going to die, but they had always expected that. Each time the tower sent wave after wave of monsters, they had faced death head-on. They weren’t just brave—they were stubborn. Will laughed, startling Larry.

After the monster’s howl, an eerie silence filled the field, cutting through the heat and reaching the remaining squad members.

"Why isn’t it attacking?" Larry asked.

The monster stood there, watching them, its massive chest heaving. It stared at the humans it would soon cleave into pieces.

"It’s not ready," Will whispered. "Not yet. Wait for it."

As if he had summoned them himself, the sound of thuds echoed, and they felt the vibrations beneath their feet.

"They’re coming," Will said, baring his teeth as if to turn himself into the monster he faced. And like an angry storm, they burst from the gateway, mindless in their passion for carnage. They rolled over each other, snarling and hissing, their skin red as dried blood.

"Blood Trolls!" Jerkins shouted, but it was pointless. Everyone could see what was coming. Death. Blood Trolls were stupid, but strong, and the number spilling from the portal could sweep through a town, leaving nothing but red.

Will howled, releasing his frustration. Larry joined him, followed by the others, until Jerkins yelled for them to attack. They charged at the trolls, hoping to take one or two down before being impaled or torn apart.

Will swung his axe at the first troll he met, swerving right to avoid another’s grasp before ramming his weapon into its gut. He snarled, cleaving through another as he rose. But then something hit him on the left side of his face. His hearing vanished, replaced by a ringing pain. Darkness flooded his vision, and something slammed into him, dragging him down. He fought, but it held tight. In the chaos, he heard the trolls’ dying roars, the sound of pain familiar to him after so many battles.

Blinking away the darkness, Will saw someone holding him down. A familiar face. The man was saying something, but Will couldn’t hear over the cacophony of screams.

"What is this?" Will gasped, horrified by what he saw.

One by one, the trolls screamed, roaring in defiance at something unseen before they exploded from the inside. Will was covered in blood and troll guts.

Near the portal, the larger monster watched in confusion as its army died. It staggered forward, paused, then fled back through the portal.

"What just happened?" Will asked again.

"I don’t know," the man holding him replied. There was no need to keep holding him, but they both stared at the portal as it dwindled, then vanished. "Whatever it was—God or demon—they saved us."

Something appeared in front of Will: a small blue box with letters on it. He staggered back, stepping on the man behind him. The box followed, staying in view. Will reached for it, then recoiled when his fingers passed through it. Finally, he leaned forward to read the words.

[Congratulations! Tower of Amareth has been conquered!]

[Tower wave has been stopped!]

[Kneel before the Conqueror of the First Tower.]

Will fell to his knees involuntarily, his body weighed down by an unfathomable force. He let it happen, his fingers releasing the axe. His body shook with sobs. He had been so close to death. He tasted the blood in his mouth and felt more spilling down the side of his head. He bowed, pressing his face into the dirt. Whatever had saved him, he felt only gratitude.

He was still crying when Brandon howled their familiar victory cry, and the others joined him.