I broke into a loping spring back toward the mines. Getting there took less than five minutes at a flat sprint. It was still too long. I skidded to a stop at the edge of the quarry, looked toward the west, and saw the army marching for the gates.

There were at least five hundred Centurions. Closer to a thousand, marching in rigid columns to either side of the road behind a smaller procession. Blue and white flags snapped and fluttered on the wind. Drums pounded, torches bobbed. The light illuminated a central figure riding on the back of a Legion about the same size as me. At first, I thought it was a griffon. But its head was lion-like and bestial. The forepaws were also more feline, and the hind feet and tail were those of a dragon. It was feathered and scale from head to ass, and by torchlight, it was radiant. As if each of those feathers and scales were beaten from pure gold.

[Anzu (Spirit/Air/Holy): This evolved S-Type Legion is associated with kings since the time of Babylon, embodied of power and dignity. It can breathe both fire and water as weapon. Anzu is excellent in all kinds of combat, can carry its rider in the air, is brave and ferocious of spirit.]

The Anzu's rider wore a set of high-quality steel armor, cloaked with indigo cloth. A glowing blue halo hung behind him, spitting sparks of electricity into the air.

[Thundersprite (Mind/Air/Psionic): A lesser legion that is very difficult to catch. Many of these S-type legions gather together to generate the monsoons and the huge thunderstorms. When alone, they lightning attacks are weak, but in the good team they excel in partnership with others.]

I couldn't see the trainer's face under his helmet. But who else was it gonna be?

"Lulu, Angel, Kaban's coming down the road with a damn battalion. I'm headed for the gate. I'll meet you there." I bounded down the cliffside, using feet and tentacles to descend quickly and quietly to the ground. The crowd of nervous rebels gathering in the square behind the gatehouse parted for me as I bounded up, trotting through them until I reached Angel, Lulu, Doc, Merc and Solomon at the front. All the humans looked worried. Lulu had caught a giant rat and was bobbing up and down on it, cheerfully oblivious to the doom approaching on the other side of the gates.

"There you are," Angel signed sharply. "Finished sulking yet?"

"No, but sulking is cumulative. I'll finish up later." I resisted the urge to lash my tail. The likelihood of accidentally cutting someone in half was high. "Kaban's on his way, on a big fancy fuck of a legion."

"I know. We saw." Angel didn't quite meet my eyes. "That Anzu... I've never seen anything like it before. It's in the same class as you."

"Eh. The Tondrothaw was an S-type, and you know how that went for him. I had beef for dinner."

"Sure, but there's S-types and then there's S-types. Tondros are at the weaker end of the S-rank spectrum, especially in the Fourth Realm. Training and teamwork matter, too. A strong S-type that hasn't realized its potential can still be beaten by a well-trained A or B-type, or even a very cleverly deployed C-ranked team," she signed. "I don't know a lot about Legions from the higher realms, but I know from rumors that a well-paired Reaper is generally considered to be one of the Legions at the top. But so are Anzu and Electrosprites."

Outside the gates, the drums reached a crescendo, then came to a sudden stop as the Imperator reached his destination.

"Yup. That's my ex," Merc sighed. "He sure knows how to make a dramatic entry."

"He's got at least five hundred men out there," I thought to the group. "If I had that much backup, I'd be dramatic, too."

"You don't need any help to be dramatic," Angel signed. "I'm going to find a lookout and pop his head off his shoulders like a zit."

"No. Don't try anything," Merc said. "Not even the Duces know how strong he is, really. But I do know that he's got some buff on that armor of his that can turn damage back on people who hit him."

"Damn. Didn't know that shit even existed." I growled under my breath.

"Here? It usually doesn't. In the Third Realm and higher? It sure does," Merc replied.

"Slaves! Your masters have arrived, so listen, and listen well!" From outside the gate came a strong, thickly accented voice that was neither wholly Slavic or entirely British, but a little of both. And as the Brits would say, he sounded like a nonce. "You are our property, currently occupying the Ironside Mines. MY mines. And given there are quite a number of you, you only have food for three, perhaps four days. My soldiers emptied the inventories of all useful goods during their retreat, as they were trained to do in case of a rebellion."

"As I speak, specialized weapons are being prepared in Fortuna, along with an elite force of men and Legions who have drilled extensively for this exact scenario. As per policy, every one of you were reduced to one life when you were captured and rightfully indentured. And when we retake our property, you will be captured or executed. Dead or alive, you will be nailed to crosses on both sides of the road leading from my city to my mines to remind those of your kind in future of the fate that awaits them if they choose to follow in your footsteps."

"And I thought I liked the sound of my own voice." I thought, once I'd finished translating for Angel.

Lulu groaned. "Ooohuuu."

"You have one and only one chance at redemption," Kaban spoke over a megaphone, which amplified his voice well enough that it rang off the wooden walls of the gatehouse. "Turn over the Reaper and his trainer, and every man and woman here shall be shown mercy."

The skin on my body lifted, spines clacking as they all stiffened at once. I whirled to look back at Merc, Doc and Solomon. Merc looked exhausted. Doc looked angry, but scared. Solomon... Solomon looked resigned. There was whispering going on amongst the crowd. And I didn't like the way some of them were looking at us.

"You have four hours to make your decision." Kaban's amplified voice broke through the murmurs. "But if the Reaper and the girl, Angel Nunez, are not sent out through these gates, we will rain down hell."

The drums started up again before we could open the gate or otherwise make our own appearance in front of him. I hesitated, then swung my head to look at Merc.

“Son of a bitch hasn’t changed a bit.” Merc looked queasy as she glanced toward the gate. "But if there's one thing I can say for our dear 'Imperator', he keeps his word. He’ll march the entire Fortuna garrison on here in four hours.”

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

“Unless we hand ourselves over,” Angel said.

“You aren’t handing anything over, and neither are we.” Merc snapped. Her eyes were still haunted, but the steel was back in them. “For one thing, I’m sick of running from that narcissistic motherfucker. For another, he destroyed my village. My people. Fortuna only has just over six hundred garrisoned soldiers, so he’s brought everyone he has. There’s no backup for him. Three to one odds… I say we let them bring it.”

"Mercy's right." Doc’s spine straightened as he lifted his voice. "Out of everyone on this island, only a few have successfully stood up to the tyranny imposed on us. Of them all, only you two have ever gotten this far. I’ll be damned if we hand you over to that asshole.”

Solomon looked thoughtfully between us and his commander. “The Cents told us that we weren’t gonna get food here. Just worked to death in the mines so our corpses could be fed to their raptors. So I agree. If the choice is between dying on our feet or dying in a collar and chains, I’ll fight.”

The murmuring grew in volume. The Maroons had heard the passion in Doc's speech and were stirring up in support, but the other rebels just looked confused. A sense of unease prickled on the back of my neck. Five hundred disciplined, uniformly armed and armored Centurions against a hundred and fifty disorganized rabble rousers... it would be a slaughter.

“Unless Merc and Solomon pull a miracle and whip these people into a functioning army within three hours, they won’t be able to control the fight,” I thought to Angel and Lulu both. "I'm okay with walking out there. We can challenge him to a one-on-one and I'll kick his ass."

Beside me, Lulu waved her stubby little arms. Trying to get our attention.

"What is it, kid?" I looked over to her first, broadcasting so the others knew she was trying to say something.

"Twoop!" She squeaked, bouncing in agitation. "Woords... are... trrroop. 'Moon and woomoon'. Slooves... proopooty! Not moon or woomen!"

My tail lashed. "Oh yeah. Well spotted. Yeah, thinking about it, Kaban phrased his offer real specifically. Up until the end of his speech, everyone here was 'property'. But in Roman times, being called a man or a woman had a specific connotation. It meant you were free. Slaves weren't 'men' or 'women' or anything else. They were just things."

"'Exactly. ‘Every man and woman will be shown mercy’. Shown Mercy as the first one up on a crucifix, more like it." Doc's eyes glittered with barely suppressed anger. "Even if you beat him in a duel, he still has more lives and no history of or reason to be honorable."

“Then it’s settled. We make our stand.” Solomon lifted his chin. "Ma’am, we need to get on top of morale, fast. And we need to mine the shit out of this courtyard."

“Yeah, we do.” Merc assessed the restless mass of rebels with a cool, clinical gaze. If she was worried, it wasn’t showing. “Let’s split these people into platoons and drill them. Get them working together as a unit. If we can do that, and we utilize all the traps and tricks this place has to keep people out and in, I think we can pull it off.”

"We WILL go out if we have to," Angel voiced. She lifted her chin slightly. "It might not stop the Centurions attacking, but if I can stall for time, I will."

“This world doesn’t reward heroics, Angel.” Merc glanced back at her. “But I know something you can do will save our bacon. If Kaban brought all his soldiers here, then Fortuna is running on a skeleton crew right now. If you can break into the city and get into Rachini’s temple… I don’t exactly know WHAT happens, but I know that summoning her triggers an island-wide event. My uh, ex had a moment where he told me one of the reasons he built a giant spawn camp around that temple is because when he defeated her, something happened that wiped the original alpha clan off the island. That’s part of why we founded Eden where we did. All those old black ruins, like Vanara’s temple, the noble district in Fortuna, or the old monastery where we built, they’re persistent structures. Like, if a wipe event hits, those ruins are never destroyed. You can hide out in ‘em.”

“It’s not information we often tell others,” Doc added. “Otherwise the competition for those building sites would be deadly.

“I figured that out in early game,” Angel voiced. “The lava tubes never collapsed or filled with lava even when the volcano went off.”

“Exactly. Point being, though, if you defeat Rachini and trigger that event - whatever it is - and Kaban is outside our gates when it happens? We can retreat into the mines. But he and his army will be shit out of luck,” Merc finished. “Hell, even if you don’t defeat her, just getting into her arena might be enough for us here. There's a global announcement that goes out. Think of the psychological impact that's going to have on these cucks. Every Centurion here is going to jump out of their damn skin. Suddenly, they're thinking that this here at the mines is all a big ruse. They'll waver, and that's when we get them."

Angel, Lulu and I all looked at each other.

“I don’t want to leave you here to have to face Kaban yourself. But if you think it’s the best way… you know this game better than anyone we know.” Angel’s eyes flashed with determination as she turned her attention back to Merc. “But we need to know everything there is to know about Rachini and Fortuna.”

“No one except Kaban really knows. Everyone who ever fought her before him is either dead or ascended to the next layer of Purgatory,” Merc replied. “All I know is that she’s the hardest of the three bosses. You don’t have a hope of winning against her without a fully-leveled Air-resistant team, both mandalas, and the first evolution out of the way. Kaban never really told me much about the fight. I know it’s got three stages, and you can’t cheese it. No turrets, no hacks or anything. There’s a statue of her outside the temple that says ‘To fight the Queen of Heaven and Earth, you must give up everything’.”

“Ooo…” Lulu trailed off, and shuddered.

“Lulu is weak against Air attacks, but we knew that going in,” I said. “Her Omnishell ability might offer her some protection. If it doesn’t, we’ll deal.”

"Alright." She drew a deep breath. "We can take some time to strategize. I'll do it."

"WE'LL do it," I added.

"Ooooh!" Lulu hopped up and down, clapping her little goo hands.

Merc suddenly looked a little less exhausted, a little more hopeful. “You’re a good man, Mister Noodles. Angel’s lucky to have you.”

Angel flushed, then scowled at me. But there was a whole lot less anger in her.

"So..." I wagged my tail hopefully. "Trucies for now?"

"For now. I still want to skin you alive," she signed back.

“The three of you are so goddamn adorable. But I hope you can get that level real fast. We don’t have a lot of time.” Merc gave me a respectful nod, then looked to Doc. "Darling, can you find me a megaphone and help me up to the gatehouse overlook? I need to go yell at my ex for a couple minutes."

"Of course." Doc also gave me and Angel a bow from the neck, and offered his arm to his wife. Merc smiled at him in a way that made something in my chest ache for a moment. I still didn't know a lot about either of them, because Merc wasn't really the kind of lady who sat down and spilled her life story. But one thing I knew for sure was that, despite their differences, she and Doc were made for each other.

"Well? What do you have to say for yourselves?" Kaban's voice blared out again. "You have one minute to respond!"

"One minute IS about all you ever managed to last." Merc's harsher, feminine voice rang from overhead, also amplified. “Long time no see, dickwad. As you can see, your thugs didn’t get my tongue cut off in time.”

A ripple of laughter broke out through the now-neatly assembled lines of rebels. And in my chat window, too.

"Mercy." The one word was soaked with loathing, and Kaban’s accent suddenly shifted. He spoke Russian with a Kazakh accent, calling out to her in their shared language. “I should have known you were a part of this, you stupid whore.”

“Bran' na vórote ne vísnet.” Merc spat back. The saying didn’t have a good direct translation to English. It was pretty much the same as ‘sticks and stones will break my bones but words can never hurt me’, but more aggressively Russian. “Not any more. As it stands, we have the Reaper, the Limne, and the girl. And we're keeping them. Throw everything you want at this place. You know as well as I do it was built to keep invaders out and prisoners in, and the only reason you're stalling for time is because we caught you with your pants down."

There was an awkward sound over Kaban's megaphone, the sound of a man grinding his molars hard enough to split them. "Fine. Have it your way, suka.” He switched back to English. “They have forfeited their grace period! Prepare to breach!"

"Dammit. Why the hell did Mercy have to go and provoke this asshole?" Cursing, I backed away from the gates as a roar started outside. "Get on board, Angel. I don't know what they're gonna hit the gate with, but-"

A brilliant glow poured in through the cracks around the gate. Then there was a high pitched 'wheee-PSSHOO' sound, like a mini static boom... and the world turned white.