Leor clambered up the ladder, hands slippery with sweat, breath tight, and heart pounding in his head. His biceps burned from the edgewolf clawing to him like an oversized, over-furred backpack. He was the last to start the climb as he was tasked to the flank, but he knew it was due to being the slowest. Or to be a meat shield.

Resting midway, he swiveled his gaze below as far as Yoru would let him. The spiked-armor knights patrolled the base, oblivious to their sneak. Slipping past their guard was easy enough for him to wonder if they truly needed to leave Hendrick behind. But once he started up the ladder, he changed his tune quickly.

At the overlook, he could see Hendrick and Líada waving. The merchant had offered to keep the giant company until Leor returned. The two seemed good enough friends, but Líada still struck him as curious. What was she after in Solaris? What was she planning? He did not mull on the thought for long, choosing to focus on his duty. He wiped his hands against his cloak, one at a time, and climbed.

When they reached the top, a metallic thunk boomed from the Thumb Ring, followed by a whistle then a tremor. One after another in a rhythmic tune like the clapper of a bell hitting each end of the lip. It was a dreadful song. A death toll.

There was no doubt something was manning the ballistae, but they were too far to make out. He could feel the air tightening as the giant bolts tore through the sky. His heart pounded harder. Lisa, Yola.

“We need to get to the outer wall now,” he said to Luella, grabbing her by the shoulders.

Shocked for a moment, her words fumbled out. She pointed past him. “The rope slide closest to the Thumb is —”

Leor pulled her by the wrist and ran along the rampart, only peeking behind to check if the others were following. He turned his gaze back. A glint of steel flashed and sailed by his face as he threw his head aside. Behind the shot was a squad of archers. Four human-sized ones. One glance and he knew by their gray, pruned skin and half-gone armor the archers were mad ones; the accursed the Frog Knight mentioned perhaps.

He drew the longsword at his hip, his hand warm from the light teeming the edges. He saw four bright points speeding at him, deflected two with a single slash, and danced around the third. The last came too soon for him to lift his blade. He tucked Luella closer as he whirled his cloak over them like a shield curtain. To his surprise, the arrow fell dead on impact.

He looked again and Yoru was already on one, tearing through broken leather armor and into ashen flesh. Even the blood that sprayed was an unnatural dark crimson, almost black. The rest were preparing another shot. Releasing the scholar’s hand, Leor darted, hurled the longsword at the furthest one, then unsheathed Gerald’s greatsword and lunged, stabbing another through the chest. Blood gushed as he continued his charge until the tip pierced the last.

The accursed groaned, grasping at the greatsword as if they did not realize what had happened, before slacking dead on the blade. The sudden weight made the greatsword give way and plant into the stone. Leor used his boot to slide the corpses off and wrench the sword free.

Another round of thunks echoed from the outer wall and sent his heart pounding in his ears.

He found the rope slide fastened to a wooden beam built upon a raised platform. The line stretched across from one ring to the next, high above the pebble-sized buildings. One slip and his body would explode into an indistinguishable mess. But there was no time for doubt.

“Yoru, after me. The rest of you may stay for all I care but you —” He gave Luella a look “You are coming with me.”

He threw his cloak over the line and looped the ends around his arm, twice for good measure, till the dragonscales gnawed his skin red. Before Luella could offer any retort, he pulled her in by the waist and locked his arm, then leapt off the edge.

Alden shouted, but his voice was lost in the hot, carving winds, the flapping of clothes, and Luella’s pleading cries. Through the tears welling in his eyes and crawling across his face, he spotted the edgewolf racing along the rope, close behind as he commanded. He knew edgewolves were deft, nimble creatures but the sight bewildered him nonetheless.

Iron spoiled the air as they soared nearer. The artillerists grew from flies to humans to something far greater than he could have imagined: colossi fashioned of graystone in the likeness of thick-bellied warriors hunched over by heavy muscles. They lumbered to reload, having to turn fully before being able to crane another giant bolt.

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When his coat caught the beam at the end of the line, he whipped and tumbled, nesting Luella’s head in his arm before crashing against the crumbling parapet. The blow knocked the wind out his lungs. . . yet there was no time to wallow as the firing started up once more. Ears ringing, he rose, greatsword in hand. No time to plan. No time to think. Every second wasted meant their lives.

He left Luella behind with Yoru and charged. He threw his full weight behind a flurry of slashes across the first colossus’ hulkish ankles, roaring until his throat felt like it had burst. There was a grueling tang as the blade scratched its stone skin. The steel stung in his grasp as if he had caught an iron whip with bare hands.

But the colossus did not flinch and continued loading the bolt. Now that Leor was up close, the size of the walking tower was daunting. Its foot twice the length of him. He bit down the pain and tightened his grip.

“Down here, you fat oaf!” he squawked as he tried a few more desperate slashes at its legs. Only managing some chippings. He felt the sun blare overhead for a brief moment, shadow shifting. It’s moving. . . reaching for another round.

And it came to him. . . . A way up!

He rushed to the front. Now face to face, his reflection stared back at him from the colossus’ light blue eyes like two topaz gemstones against a blanket of ash. It somehow called to him. Howled at him. Leor whirled and cut upward across its face, fighting past the grind of stone with a throat-stabbing scream. The colossus reeled. Leor coursed up its floundering arms, over grooves and mounds, drew his longsword, and plunged both blades into its gemmed sockets.

The colossus bellowed as it fell. A deep groan of pain. Its stone body shattered to pieces, dust blooming from the crash. Leor rolled clumsily to his feet, panting.

“Hah!” he breathed with a crack of a smile. He had done it. Without the help of Yui or the others. With his power alone. “The ring was not needed,” he said to himself.

Light flared. Something blunt slammed him from behind and the world was spiraling. The parapet came to meet him. He crashed halfway through the wall. There was a crack and he did not know if it was his shoulder or the stone. Darkness ate his sight in blotches with stars blinking.

In the distance, he heard Luella faintly calling his name and Yoru barking. He struggled to his feet to answer their call, but his knees buckled. Then he was falling.

Until he felt something hook under his arms. Blinking, he saw a figure blacked out by the sun standing over him, tendrils of night-dyed hair brushing his face.

“Well done, Leor. There may be some spirit in you after all,” Yui said. “Here. Drink.”

Something cold and slimy slithered down his throat like a half-frozen viper. The cold snake wormed its way to his back and shoulder, and settled for a moment before dissipating to a quiet warmth akin to that of a campfire. The warmth made his eyelids heavy. Then it faded along with the pain.

“Be grateful Lord Alden forced the dragonslayer woman to offer her healing waters,” she said.

“I’ll be certain to remember that,” Leor said, rising. He picked the swords from the rubble.

“Sheath your blades, Leor. Your role is done. The dragonslayer woman has been tasked to fell the other golem before the Pontiff arrives with the silent one.”

Golem? Those things look nothing like the fables, Leor thought to himself as he turned his gaze.

Golden light swelled in the golem’s eyes and beamed at Emilia; a blink and he would’ve missed it. She danced past the ray with little effort, lightning engulfed her suit and sprouted violet wings from the cracks of her plating. The power to slay dragons, Leor thought with a tremble. Was it fear or excitement?

Thunder cracked. She cleaved through the golem’s leg in a single stroke of her hissing blade like it were made of butter, turned and sliced across, severing its last leg. As it fell, she hurled her longsword, blasting a hole through the golem’s chest — the tip aimed at Leor.

He flinched and scrambled to block, but the deadly point never reached him. With a wave of her hand, Emilia called back the sword to her grasp.

Leor’s mouth opened, but nothing came out. He could not see through her helm, but he knew she was glaring.

Alden and Menno arrived soon after the defeat. The Pontiff rushed to his side, shouting. “I called for you to wait, Leor. To conjure a plan of attack. To divide the work.”

“The firing started. There was no time for that.”

“A few words could have been exchanged at the very least!” His face was turning red. “You could have gotten yourself killed!”

His anger flared. “I couldn’t just stand idle! Lisa, Yola. They’ve put their faith in me. I had to do something.”

“What good are you to them dead? What of Miss Luella? If she died, your plan would’ve gone to waste!” Alden sighed and reached out. “You cannot think of yourself as exposable, my friend. Ceri —”

Leor smacked his hand away. “Don’t you dare bring her up now. Not you too.” He felt his eyes watering so he turned his back and made his way to the wall’s edge looking over Fort Greymir.

The taste of iron was strong. A red mist and cries rang from below. Leor swallowed. A storm is coming. “We must hurry to the King’s Finger.”