Typhos spoke. It sounded like thousands of different kinds of animals speaking at once. It was deafening, and Narcissa fell to the ground, screaming. Alkela remained behind, looking up in awe. It was all Sahshir could do to stand and take a stance.

Wait, what was he doing taking a stance? He was in a room with two godlike entities of unfathomable power allied against him. He turned and ran for his life. As he did, their words reached him nonetheless.

"Yes," said Zigildrazia. "I apologize for the blade through the heart burning through some of your power. You know these destined heroes are always throwing plans into disarray. My sincere apologies."

The hallway was no longer translucent. Whatever material it had been made from was cracking, and through it was seeping a red mist. The very presence of it hurt Sahshir's skin, but the Sword of Order flared, and it was driven away. Typhos spoke again.

"And it has been returned to you." continued Zigildrazia. "Even now, its power grows as the chaos sewn long ago comes to the front. Monsters and men consume each other, and nations fail.

"The world awaits only your return to destroy stagnation and liven things up."

Typhos snarled something incomprehensible.

"Did I?" asked Zigildrazia with a laugh. "How unfortunate. I must have been very bored. At any rate, I did overthrow her in turn. Her domain as the Demonic Archon of Lust has passed to me." Typhos replied again. This time, there was sarcasm in her tone. But the voice faded as he ran with all he had.

Sahshir stumbled up the steps and out of the Sanctum. He found the doors were broken open and the walls cracking. Shadows were seeping out of the cracks, taking on monstrous forms—many-headed serpents around him. Two-headed lions emerged from side rooms, roaring. Sahshir hacked and slashed through the snakes, but their heads regrew. He leaped over the lions and found himself cornered. Wielding the Blade of Chaos and the Sword of Order, she desperately hacked and slashed around him. Both flared with an unworldly light, and he killed them by the dozens.

But there were always more.

Stumbling out into the street over their corpses, Sahshir rushed through the gate. Heaving them, he slowly closed them. Finally, they shut with a clang. It held them momentarily, and he stumbled out to the streets. Gasping, he fell to his knees.

The sun had been shining before. But now it was darker out here than it had been inside. Turning up, he saw the form of Typhos flaring into life. Innumerable tendrils that pained the eyes coiled around taller structures. Giant claws were perched upon the dome of the Sanctum.

Sahshir forced himself to stand as best he could. He had to stop this abomination somehow. But how could he? What hope did he, a mere mortal, have against such a creature?

The Sanctum's dome cracked from the outside, and then many tentacles burst forth. The stones shattered as something indescribable arose. It had tendrils and millions of heads of all kinds. And from it came innumerable voices, screeching with incomprehensible glory.

The veil was torn apart. Sahshir averted his eyes from the horror now coming fully into the world. It clambered over the buildings, spewing blood upon the ground. That blood-soaked over the corpses, and the bodies grew. They sprouted tentacles or took on aspects of animals as they arose in new, twisted lives.

Every one of them rushed toward the outside of the fortress. They paid no heed to Sahshir. He was beneath notice.

Sahshir got back on his feet with some difficulty. But, he would be noticed. He would make this cosmic horror regret its arrogance.

Snatching up his swords, he sprinted toward the nearest leg. Scaling up a building, stone by stone, he reached the top. As he did, the portion landed on the building. Rushing toward it, Sahshir leaped onto the leg and slashed at it with both swords. The blades cut deep, and the leg recoiled. He barely held on and stabbed the Blade of Chaos in the leg. From there, he pulled up and stabbed the Sword of Order higher up.

In this way, he scaled up, stabbing and hacking. Only minor wounds were being dealt to this horror. But a thousand flies could kill a lion.

Beneath him, he saw Typhos pass over the walls. The horrors were streaming out of the gates toward the legions. Cries of horror came from them as they fled before the beasts. But one legionary stood tall, calling aloud to his brethren. Rallying as many as he could, he formed them into a line on a hill. They stood their ground there, creating an island of order among the chaos. The men flocked to them or ran all the faster as they chose.

Sahshir scaled higher, inflicting many more minor wounds. Tentacles surged at him from elsewhere, but he hacked them off. Now, he was near the body.

His muscles were burning. His every inch ached.

Pulling himself onto the main body, he hacked with the Sword of Order at the leg. The first blow sank deep—the second cut bone. The third cut it off. An ocean of blackness spewed from the wound, and wherever it fell, vast forests grew out of the ground.

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

Then, from the wound emerged another arm that twisted upwards so it clawed at him. Sahshir leaped away from the slash and sank the Blade of Chaos home. Then, as the hand reached for him, he slashed off three fingers.

The arm twisted as tendrils grew from the bloodied stumps and slashed at him.

One of them caught him in the hand. Sahshir felt a searing pain and fell backward. Looking at his hand, he saw two stumps and three fingers. He'd lost two of them and felt nothing. Clutching the wound, he realized as he fell that he must slow his fall, or he would die.

Shifting his weight, he guided his descent and surged toward one of the legs. It was reaching for the still-fighting knot of legionnaires. Driving the Sword of Order in, he slowed his fall, slicing the arm in half lengthwise as he descended.

Finally, he hit the ground. Drawing off his scarf, he wrapped the fabric around his bloodied stumps. Tying it tight, he took the Sword of Order in an underhand grip and rose.

Looking around, he realized he was on the hill. The tides were washing against the legion remnants. Those who had fled were being overtaken. And the broken forms of Typhos' arms began to shift and reform into monstrous serpents of bone. They surged toward the legion lines.

Sahshir ran to aid them.

Yes, they were his enemy. But they were men of order in their way. They did not deserve to die in such a way. Their lines were now only two thick, which was for his benefit. He vaulted over them and began to slash and hack, dodging and weaving as he cut down monster after mother.

One of the serpents of bone rose above him and snapped at him. He rolled away and half-cut through its neck with a downward stroke. It reeled back, bleeding fire. Sahshir slashed through the other half without a word. The turf around him was set aflame by the blood. As he passed it, he saw a wave of ice engulfing a nearby area.

That same legionnaire had killed the other serpent. Now, he stood alone. Sahshir landed and fought his way toward him, hewing down many. Then, he came to him at last, and they covered for one another. Back to back, they made a wall of bodies wherever they went. Strange new plants grew as the blood of Typhos's children spilled out over the ground.

Soon, they were surrounded by a great forest of thorns that grabbed them.

Hacking down the limbs of the trees as they went after them, they soon found themselves alone. Halting, Sahshir looked at the corpses and felt suddenly weak. He collapsed to one knee and looked up at his unexpected ally. The legionnaire looked at him.

"I remember you," he said. "You landed upon that airship."

"And you fought valiantly," said Sahshir. "Who are you?"

"I am Marius of the Legions." said the man. "You?"

"Abdul Sahshir," said Sahshir, resting on his blade. "Why?"

"Why what?" asked Marius.

"Why such butchery?" asked Sahshir. "You killed men, women, children."

"We had no choice," said Marius. "Zigildrazia is a plague on our society. For a time, we thought we had limited her to Zigilus. But her cults were spreading throughout the cities."

"And that justifies genocide?" asked Abdul.

"The worshippers of Zigildrazia are savages," said Marius. "They kill children for being unpleasant to look upon. Babies are sacrificed in the fire in bloody orgies. They think nothing of it. There is not one good person among all the servants of Zigildrazia. Not one.

"For she is the divine usurper. Of her sister and of Safara."

"The Love Goddess," said Sahshir. "She resides in Ruscow."

"Yes," said Marius. "And she is the rightful god of Dinis before you Calishans took her from us. In her absence, Zigildrazia filled the void. Now we see the results."

"Your butchery created these horrors," said Sahshir.

"Then it will end them as well," said Marius.

"You are overconfident," said Sahshir. "The beast we fight is a god."

"Actually," said Marius, "it is an avatar of a god."

"What?" said Sahshir.

"You did not seriously think that we mere mortals could deal true injury to such a being?" asked Marius. "What we face is a mere figment of Typhos' true self. The bulk of her power lies dormant deep beneath the ruins of the west. No doubt, she will attempt to access that once we're finished here.

"Destroying the heart of Typhos was one of our goals."

Sahshir went cold. "...Do you have a plan?"

Marius remained silent. "If we stab it enough, it may bleed out."

"Let's do that," said Sahshir. Yes, it was futile, but it was core to make plans around.

They staggered out of the forest, hacking their way through the thorns. When they emerged, they saw the landscape shifting. The ground was sinking in as pools of green liquid filled them, steaming. Zigilus was shaking as great spires of rock rose in one place and another. Anyone left within was probably going to die.

But the legion still fought on. There were only a few now, but the corpses of the horrors surrounded them. Several broken limbs of Typhos were around them. How?

Sahshir looked and saw the Sword of Order gleaming. Had the blade inspired them? Or was this something else?

But Typhos remained on high. She had withdrawn her limbs and was merely swirling high above. Sahshir tried to make out her core head, the one giving the commands. But there didn't seem to be one. And she will be transforming this place.

He and Marius hurried toward the battle, but it seemed winding down. The horrors had ceased to rush. Only a few legionaries remained, a paltry remnant of a once magnificent army. But they cheered when Marius returned.

"Tribune Marius," said one, "we feared the worst."

"Well done, all of you," said Marius. "With this man's aid, we triumphed. Once we have secured this place, we will ascend into Zigilus and finish our work, once and for all." He paused. "Where is General Ariadus?"

"He fled." said a man. "I saw him fleeing with the others."

"No, he didn't," said another, "he was trying to rally the deserters."

"If the latter, he may return to aid us. If the former, he will stand in shame," said Marius. "But, we will finish our work here, nonetheless."

Sahshir was impressed with his determination. Less so with his intelligence. Above them, Typhos arose into the sky and was gone from sight.