Initially, things had been straightforward.

The legion had been prepared for the sacking of a city and had yet to expect heavy resistance. Instead, they had broken ranks and begun to loot, pillage, and take prisoners. This allowed Sahshir to pick and kill his targets one at a time.

This had not lasted.

Now, the legion had gotten organized. The legion advanced from building to building in good order. They were setting fire and killing as they went. They guarded each other against demons and mortals alike. Their shields protected each other. Together, they began to mop up scattered resistance.

A door broke open, and a woman fled out of a house, pursued by the legionnaires. Arrows landed around her, but none found their mark as she sprinted away. In her grip was a screaming child.

Sahshir dropped down from the rooftop and through the window. Bringing his sword around, he beheaded one of the archers. From there, he went from window to window, killing as he went. Some withdrew to lower floors. He knew they would return with better-armed soldiers. Before they could, he leaped out of the window and landed on the street below.

He saw the woman fall as a legionary raised his blade to kill them. Sahshir sprinted with all his might and passed him, cleaving. The man fell into many pieces, and Sahshir pulled the woman up.

"Run for the Sanctum of Zigildrazia," he said. "The monks have a way of escape."

Then, as she ran, he turned to face the enemy coming at him. They hurled spears at him. He dodged and weaved, cutting one in half as it fell. Then, hurling several kunai. He was disappointed when they all were caught on their shields.

More of them were coming now. Their swords were bloodied from fresh kills.

He ran, sprinting into an alley. Running up the wall, he kicked off, then back and forth until he reached the top. Then he leaped from rooftop to rooftop to escape. As he did, he saw a group of citizens with weapons fighting with the legionaries. Several of them fell, and not one legionary died with them.

He leaped to that rooftop and cleaved through a helmet. Then, drawing his blade out, he stepped around the next man's guard and jabbed his sword under the man's armpit. Pulling out, he fended off several strikes before vaulting over his enemy. As he landed, he stabbed him through the throat from behind.

The citizens were all dead now.

He fled down the steps and found the enemy waiting at the bottom. Leaping over a spear thrust, he beheaded the man and landed quickly. More were waiting for him at the base of the steps, and these, too, fell. But somewhere along the line, he must have been cut. As he stumbled into another room filled with civilian corpses, he felt an ache in his arm. He'd been sliced.

Sahshir felt like he was bailing out a sinking ship with a thimble. All he could do was buy time for the people to get on lifeboats, and only a little of it.

As he fled into the darkness of night, he slipped into an alley and fell to one wall, breathing heavily. He could hear screams and battle raging around him. Troops of soldiers rushed by him, crying battle cries. "Forward Legionnaires! For the Emperor! Let none of these heretics survive the reaping!"

Demons met them in battle, and the legions fought them without flinching.

Curse these legions. They had no fear. Sahshir had had several close calls tonight. Drawing a bandage from one of the compartments in his belt, he tied his wound to staunch the bleeding.

"Please, please don't hurt me-" begged someone before their voice was cut short.

Looking around the corner, he saw the legion was now fighting with some of the city's defenders. They were hacking and slashing at each other in a melee now. They seemed evenly matched.

Turning into the street, Sahshir rushed to join the fray. He hacked and slashed, killing and maiming. He was almost in a trance, watching blood spilling across the flagstones.

Soon, he found himself fighting with a legionary. His enemy was good on defense, and his shield could hold up against the Sword of Chaos. They fought back and forth, and Sahshir realized he had seen this one before.

He'd killed many demons in the fields before the city. Now, he wielded a cracked shield and bloody sword against the weapon of a god. Sahshir's blows were warded off, and lethal thrusts were the reply that he had to dodge. They circled, slashing and fighting without end.

Magnificent.

But it could not last.

The defenders of Zigilus had now fled or died. The legionaries were moving to surround him. Leaping back, Sahshir fled into an open door and up a flight of steps. He heard them following him.

The stairs led ever higher. Soon, he realized he had scaled to the top of a tower. Slamming shut the door, he ran to the edge and vaulted over the edge, allowing himself to fall. Then, drawing out the Sword of Order, he jammed it into the stonework. It sank in deep and slowed his fall as he surged toward the ground.

Coming to a halt, he sprinted away.

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Eventually, he halted and fell to his knees. He could not continue like this.

"Another dozen souls cut down by your blade, Kalthakian?" asked a question.

Sahshir rose and looked up. A dark-skinned man in a long coat stood before him with his hands in his pockets. He was smiling.

"Would you stand by and let them go unopposed?" asked Sahshir.

"You defend your enemies?" asked the man. "Many things have been done in the name of Baltoth. Not this, I think."

Sahshir looked at him warily. What was he playing at? "It is in the name of my own will."

"Very well, then." said the man. "I am Dakan. May I make a suggestion?"

This was absurd.

"What is it?" asked Sahshir.

"You are fighting two enemies now. The raishans and the legion," said Dakan. "And all this violence is happening in the city. If you could move both out to fight each other, many more could be saved."

"I have no power to control raishans," said Sahshir.

"True," said Dakan. "But the raishans are focused wholly on the Blade of Chaos. Speaking of which, you may have noticed our friend." He pointed upwards. Sahshir followed the gesture and saw that the shadow he had seen before had grown. He could now make out scales and individual aspects of the heads.

It was not yet in the world. But it would be soon.

"Where is the Blade of Chaos?" asked Sahshir.

"In an exceptional part of the Sanctum," said Dakan. "Only a Garacel and Zigildrazia knew of it until I followed Garacel to it. Within beats the heart of Typhos. In that heart, if the Blade of Chaos.

"If it were removed, that shadow might dissipate. Bring the Blade of Chaos into the main camp of the legions. They will have to withdraw to defend it."

"Why are you helping me?" asked Sahshir. "What do you want?"

"All within this city are my enemies," said Dakan. "For I have made them so. But the civilians are of no threat."

"Will you lead me there?" asked Sahshir.

Dakan shrugged. "I'd love to. But we're about to have company."

Sahshir turned and saw Grakus walking into view. He was soaked in blood and grime and smiling wide as he walked toward them, soaked to his neck in blood. The cords on his arms were wrapped around nine legionnaires, choking the life from them. They constricted suddenly, and their heads rolled across the street.

Grakus stretched. "So, the descendant of Neseriah, he weaves his webs, does he?

"And his pawns are all set. But the board will be flipped before he ever uses them."

"Grakus?" said Sahshir.

"I am pleased you remember me, human," said Grakus.

"You know what Garacel is doing, do you not?" said Sahshir. "This will destroy the very city you are meant to protect. Kill thousands." If he could get past this man without a fight-

"Far more than that," laughed Grakus. "And it has already killed thousands."

Sahshir considered what this made him. "...You're a monster," he said matter-of-factly. However, he felt nothing when he said it. Oddly, he should feel rage like some old heroes when witnessing atrocities.

"You remind me of someone I once faced," said Grakus. "A fool who sought to battle me in single combat. He sought to avenge his wife and refused help to do it. For the life of me, I cannot remember the woman.

"It was on that day that I met your mentor.

"Tell me, does humanity suffer grief for the slaughter of innumerable sheep? Does the hunter mourn the deer? No, they do not. It is the nature of all things to consume and devour others."

"But you have served as an officer in the service of those you deem sheep," said Sahshir, readying his sword. The two began to circle one another. "You benefit from their culture and society. Who forged the armor you bear? Or sewed the cloth beneath it?"

"Humans, of course," said Grakus.

"Then, whatever your race, you have made yourself one of them," said Sahshir. "You have integrated into their society and cannot stand above it. You are not a predator hunting prey but a murderer."

"I prefer to think of myself as a wolf among sheep.," said Grakus. "HAIL TYPHOS!!"

His cords then burst into green flame, and he surged at Sahshir. Sahshir yielded ground beneath the onslaught, fending it off as best he could. Finally, the heat of the cords was unbearable, and Grakus continued his assault.

Turning, Sahshir ran up a wall, kicking off it, and passed over Grakus. However, he twisted to avoid the cords even as his sword went down. Landing, he slashed at Grakus' leg, but the man pulled back in time to avoid losing it. There was a small cut on him, however.

"You're strong, Kalthakian," said Grakus. "It is rare I am forced to face an enemy.

"Once before, we stalemated on the airship. It shall not happen twice. The flame of Typhos shall break the foundations of the universe! And I shall cast it!" Then, raising a hand, he summoned five spheres of fire and hurled them at Sahshir.

Sahshir ducked under one, rolled past another, and cleaved through a third with the Sword of Order. As he did, the other four hit the ground and exploded. It sent cobblestones and dirt everywhere.

One caught him on the shoulder, and he fell to one knee in agony. Looking up, he saw Grakus surging toward him. His cords were all moving to impale Sahshir. And there was an opening. Rising to his feet, Sahshir surged toward Grakus.

Before he could see where his strike fell, Sahshir and Grakus passed one another. They halted, and Sahshir felt the pain of a burn on his leg. He fell and touched his other shoulder, burning as well. He looked back and saw Grakus standing tall. Had he hit him?

Then Grakus raised the hand from which his cords came. It was glowing, brighter and brighter. Blood spilled from an artery in his side as he fell to one knee. "My hand... It burns... IT BURNS!!"

Grakus' entire form began to light up. Cracks appeared in his flesh as fire surged from his veins. A howl came from his lips as Sahshir leaped into a nearby gutter and prayed for the best. There was a surge of heat and green light as the walls were scorched. Then it was over. Sahshir pulled himself up and saw no sign of Grakus. He had been a formidable opponent and died for his cause.

Sahshir bowed in respect.

Then came the sound of clapping.

Dakan moved forward as Sahshir forced himself to stand. "Well done, well done indeed. It's been a long time since I had such an excellent show." Drew out a vial and tossed it at Sahshir's feet. "Drink that; it should restore your flesh and bone."

Sahshir had little choice but to take it on faith. If he didn't drink it, he was a dead man. Dropping his sword, he unstoppered the bottle and drank it down. Instantly, his burns and injuries flared with unbearable pain. It was all he could do not to fall.

But when it was over, he was in perfect health.

"Now," said Dakan, "follow me. And I will lead you where you want to go."

How considerate of him. Sahshir made a mental note to kill him once he outlived his usefulness. He really seemed like the treacherous sort.