Rowan felt queasy. The maulers almost came up to the height of the wall, and even if their gait was lumbering, their speed was deceptively fast. They had the same dexterity score as him, and Rowan knew just how much having 18 points in dexterity meant.

“We need to meet them out there.” Bron declared, walking towards the edge of the wall without hesitation. “If they destroy the wall, we’re dead even if we survive this battle.”

Then he stepped off. Sounds of combat immediately rang out, the last few Rotsworn Chargers stragglers at the foot of the wall were reduced to bits in record time. The two beastfolk didn’t hesitate in jumping off the wall either. Most of the soldiers followed their officer’s lead while the mercenaries held back.

“I don’t suppose I can get a ride down?” Olivia asked Rowan. “All of my boosts are applied to mana for better effect.”

Briefly, Rowan wondered if everyone around him had just gone crazy. But when the wall-jumpers somehow made it to the bottom without breaking their legs, he realized that he might have underestimated the effect that stats made. He shook his head, gave Olivia a smile, and swept her off her feet. The little ‘eep’ she made when they jumped surprised him more than the ease with which he landed.

Olivia handed him a new potion that he downed without hesitation. Strength flowed through him. Specifically, his strength stat went up by five points. Rowan raised his spear. It was featherlight. Riding off that high, Rowan decided that he could finally be the hero that everyone thought he was. He focused on the mauler to his left, and charged.

Rowan could hear curses and shouts behind him, but he forgot all of that as the wind blew through his hair. There was still quite a bit of distance left between him and the monster he chose. That meant that his Relentless Advance had all the time in the world to ramp up.

As the card pulled on his mana, Rowan felt the process like never before. The increased mental stats meant that he could tell what the mana was doing, feel it coursing through and out of his body. For the first time, he tried to help it along, to manipulate and urge it to be more effective.

His speed kicked up by another notch, and the mauler was drawing closer.

His heart card seemed more effective, too. The familiar feeling of forced calm was enhanced, structuring his thoughts in a simple sequence of what he needed to accomplish.

As Rowan looked at the mauler, he could almost read the monster. It was no longer advancing and instead gearing up for a strike with its clawed hand. Mauling Strike, if Rowan was forced to guess.

This meant that its armpit was exposed, a stretch of flesh where the monster’s fur was thinner, almost non-existent.

Rowan pushed on Relentless Advance even more, accelerating out of the monster’s impending blow, and used Contortionist's Physique to slide onto his knees and slip perilously close to its arm. Most of his momentum was invested in his spear, the tip of it blazing blue with mana, aiming straight for the target Rowan had picked out a couple moments ago.

At the last possible moment, Rowan came back to his senses and remembered what Olivia had said about potion madness. What he was doing was downright mad. It was too late to pull out of his move now, but there was just enough time for him to hesitate and instead of thrusting into the monster, Rowan pulled the spear in a slice, cutting through the hard muscle.

A shower of sickly-green blood nearly hit Rowan as the mauler’s limb went limp. He dodged only by his continued momentum. His knees paid the price, but they were still strong enough to support his weight when he sprang to his feet.

Behind him, the monster roared out in anger, and Rowan turned just in time to see it grip its own arm and tear it away.

Wielding its arm like a cudgel, the mauler lumbered towards Rowan and swung the amputated limb by the wrist. This made drops of its blood rain everywhere, forcing Rowan to backpedal in fear. If the blood had the hounds’ corpse explosion properties, then it’d be game over before he knew it.

For a brief moment, Rowan caught sight of the other two maulers already in combat and blocking off the others from supporting him. Beyond them ,there was the village. The walls that had been battered over the last few days and the villagers who stuck their heads out to watch the battle. These were the people he was fighting for.

This is real life.

Rowan’s confidence returned to him. This time, it wasn’t the reckless variety that the potions brought. Rather, this was knowledge that if he could survive for long enough, the victory was theirs.

“Come here, you big brute!” Rowan yelled at the mauler. Then, he charged again.

This time, he didn’t engage his cards, choosing to use his dexterity to carry him forward. The mauler’s eyes lit up with glee and it prepared to bludgeon him to death with its own limb. When it tilted backward the slightest amount, Rowan burned all three of his cards.

He used Reckless Advance to gain a spurt of speed, Contortionist's Physique to tilt his angle, and poured as much mana as possible into his spear tip with Empowered Thrust. But instead of stabbing forward, Rowan took aim and threw the spear right at the thing’s face.

Throwing a spear wasn’t something he had tried before. The baron had warned that such a move should be a desperation attempt, one that would leave him defenseless. More than that, he hadn’t used Empowered Thrust with a spear that had left his hands. Mana began to pour out of Rowan, keeping his connection with the spear alive for just a moment longer.

And that moment was all that he needed. The spear, with the full power of Rowan who now have almost thirty points in strength, sailed forward and met the monster’s eye. And it didn’t stop. The spear came out the other end of its skull, quivering and burning blue for a fraction of a second longer before petering out.

Rowan slowed down and watched as a blank expression slid over the monster’s features. Only when the mauler finally toppled backward and landed on the ground with a thump did Rowan start moving again.

He found his spear, cleaned it of the blood by using a bit more mana, and sprinted back toward the others.

Bron had demolished his mauler even faster than Rowan had, neatly chopping the massive monster into different blocks. And the combined efforts of everyone else had taken down the last monster. Despite their giant size, it seemed that the maulers weren’t exactly meant for small-scale engagements.

Rowan took a quick glance at his mana, and grimaced.

Mana: 27/100

“Have a mana potion to spare?” Rowan quipped as he fell in by Olivia side, and had one practically shoved into his chest.

“Don’t do something that reckless again,” Olivia said, eyes trained on the demon that was content to keep standing there.

“I’ll try.” Rowan used his teeth to awkwardly unplug the potion.

“Such amusing morsels. Such reckless morsels. You draw near of your own accord. Yes, come closer. Let me see you,” the demon said. Its voice seemed to echo and the words overlapped on each other.

Rowan glanced around and saw grim lines on everyone around. The soldiers lined up behind Bron while the two beastfolk made their way next to Olivia.

There weren’t any grand speeches or clever quips as the group began moving toward the demon. Everyone knew their job. They had to fight. There was no other choice.

If Rowan had been at the top of the wall, he might have recognized what was happening. It was exactly like the painting he had seen in the palace. A group of souls marching toward the darkness because that was the right thing to do.

As it was, he was right in the middle of the group. The first couple hundred paces were easy, everyone stayed fairly close together while the demon simply watched. But when they were about a hundred paces away, Rowan began to have trouble breathing and his legs felt heavier than ever before.

Rowan looked around to find that most of the group was slowing down, only Bron was completely fine.

There’s some kind of aura that higher classes give off, Rowan concluded. As the only common tier combatant in the group, he was finally feeling the limitations of his class. There was only a slight tinge of adrenaline against uncommons but there was now a brew of unease, doubt, and fear as he got closer to his enemy.

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Still, Rowan convinced himself that he would be okay. I’m a hero. I just killed a giant. The green blood on my spear is proof that we’ll win.

“Divine morsel. So kind of you to come. Yes, so very kind,” the demon whispered, its lips still refusing to move.

Rowan wondered if forcing it to scream would finally do the trick.

“Be ready for any tricks. Demons do not fight fair,” Bron warned.

That made the demon chuckle, and it shifted its entire torso so its face was pointing at Bron. “Such unkind words. I will have such fun devouring your flesh. Well, why have you not struck yet, Blade? Do you wait for your master’s leave?”

The demon’s whispers were like feathers that tickled Rowan’s ear, making him shudder. Bron, however, shrugged off the comment as he pulled out a normal-looking potion, knocked off the cap, and downed it. Before the demon could speak, Bron’s sword lit up with mana, and he was suddenly there, striking at one of the demon’s many limbs.

Metal met flesh in a shower of sparks, and the demon cackled as its limbs suddenly surged towards the swordsman. Seeing them up close, Rowan noticed dozens of different joints on each limb. They bent and twisted every which way, coming at Bron from a variety of unexpected angles.

Somehow, Bron became superhuman. The sword was everywhere, blocking, countering, and parrying the blows from the limbs. As the two of them fought, the rest of the group spread out, trying to find weaknesses in the demon.

Rowan was the first to try something. He pushed down the fear in his heart and kicked off the ground, making full use of Relentless Advance to add as much power to his blow as possible.

The others added their power to the attack. A rush of miasma clung to the tip of his spear and when the demon tried to bat Rowan away with one of its limbs, the shield bearer was there, tanking the hit.

When Rowan’s thrust finally reached its mark, it actually sunk into demon flesh, causing the monster to flinch slightly.

The tiny distraction was enough to give Bron his opportunity, and his sword’s mana shroud intensified as he began slicing.

Two of the demon’s arms tumbled to the ground, the stumps spraying black ichor that everyone struggled to avoid. A couple of drops landed on Rowan’s shoulder, and his eye twitched when he saw the leather sizzle in response. Luckily, the liquid wasn’t acidic enough to completely burn through his armor before its effects ran out.

Next time I fight, I’m finding a nice, normal monster that didn’t have diseases and acid for blood.

Still, the demon’s floundering provided Olivia with a stationary target, and she was ready to show off. The potion that impacted the demon’s hide didn’t burst into flames. Instead, miniature storms of electricity kicked up, ravaging the creature’s flesh and leaving charred trails in its gray-purple skin.

The shield bearer surged forward again, protecting against all harm by a halo-like aura, and bashed his shield against the demon.

Shockingly, the thing actually swayed, almost losing balance before its back pair of arms stabilized it against the ground.

The soldiers swarmed forward and Rowan was secretly glad to be outnumbering the enemy for once. The demon’s limbs flailed, pushing back the soldiers. Once again, Bron was the only one who could keep up with the demon.

Half of the soldiers were slow in the retreat. And while the blood of the demon was only slightly acidic, the claws at the end of its limbs were dripping with green poison. It swung one of its limbs at the soldiers, letting loose a couple drops of deadly fluid. Those drops ate a hole through everything that they touched, whether it was the metal, wood, or human. At least of quarter of the soldiers collapsed, either dead or injured so seriously that they were out of the fight.

“Damn demon!” Bron roared when he saw his men falling. He redoubled his efforts, only to be repelled by the demon’s limbs, which had taken on a black shine. When they clashed with Bron’s blade, the black corroded the sword’s blue haze.

Bron glanced at his blade, and canceled and reapplied the card. The new blue glow didn’t have any lingering black spots but Bron’s face stayed grim.

Rowan found himself stuck. The demon’s limbs were now whipping all around, leaving no room for him to try an attack. The other soldiers hurled themselves into suicide attacks, only to score shallow cuts that healed back in moments.

Olivia, at least, was doing work. She never seemed to run out of potions, peppering the demon with bottles of lightning, ice, and flame. She never used the same potion twice and despite the demon’s whips, she always found the right angle to sneak her projectile through.

They were in a stalemate. The demon couldn’t defeat Bron and get at the weaker humans and no one could deal a decisive strike to the demon. It seemed like it would be a war of attrition, and with the numbers on their side, Rowan was certain they could wear the thing down.

After a few minutes of fighting, the demon seemed to realize the same thing. It tensed its legs and launched itself at the mage beast folk who stood in the back.

Rowan could do little more than take potshots at the thing as it sailed over their heads, and Bron took the chance to charge a massive blade slash, severing another one of its limbs.

It was the shield bearer who came to his companion’s rescue. His shield gave a blinding flash of green light and the demon was frozen in midair for a second. Then, like being sucked by a magnet, it began to fly towards the shield bearer.

It landed heavily on the shield, almost flattening the beast folk behind. Using the opportunity, the demon swung its limbs out, digging at the shield bearer while still being stuck to the shield.

“Help him!” Bron called as he rushed forward first. His sword created a deep gash on the demon’s back and Olivia’s flames charred another section of its skin. Even with all that, the monster moved like nothing had happened and hopped to the side, gearing up for another pass at them.

Rowan readied his spear for an attack when a voice wormed its way into his ear. “Wait, not yet. Its attention is being drawn by the others. Stay back.”

For a second, Rowan thought that it was the demon trying to divide them. A shroud of black smoke around him quickly dispelled that notion. He looked back and caught the eye of the mage beast folk. Around him, the other soldiers, all holding spears, also held back with their own black clouds.

“I’ll create an opening. Use it,” the voice said.

Rowan tensed his muscles, and readied himself to perform his skill combo.

The opening ended up being in the form of a giant wave of black smoke that formed into a cackling, twitching skull. It rushed forward and slammed into the demon, freezing it in place.

Rowan pushed as much mana as he could into every single one of his cards. The others also took advantage of the opportunity. The other soldiers stabbed with Rowan, charging forward in unison. Bron launched himself into the air, the blue glow on his sword intensifying before the blade carved right through the demon’s head, obliterating everything above its jaw.

When the monster was still twitching after all that, the shield bearer spun his shield, turning it into a giant drill that crushed through its limbs and caused a deluge of slush-like black ichor to spill out of its torso. And Olivia delivered the final blow. She tossed an unusually large vial at the center of the demon. When the potion crashed against the demon, everywhere the liquid touched immediately turned into stone that started cracking and fracturing.

For a few long moments, the only thing Rowan could hear was the thundering of his own heart as he readied a second combo. Finally, the demon teetered side to side, then collapsed into the puddle of its own blood, laying still.

“Is that it? Did we get it?” One of the soldiers finally broke the silence, inching closer to the demon and nudging it with his foot.

“Wait, don’t! We didn’t get the experience yet!” Bron shouted.

The demon screamed.

It was unlike any of the sounds it had made before. The sheer force of its voice lifted the soldier into the air like a rag doll. Rowan was thrown backwards right into Olivia’s arms, and the two tumbled to the ground in a heap.

Only Bron and the mage beast folk kept their feet, the latter due to distance and Bron due to sheer power and skill.

The demon’s flesh rippled, pulsing, and then wiggled. All of the damage they did sloughed off its body along with chunks of quivering flesh. New limbs burst out of its stumps, thumping into the ground and righting the creature once more.

Even the severed head was bubbling, flesh reaching upwards and re-growing once more into the expressionless face.

The only good news of all this was that the demon was diminished. Its healing came at the cost of its bulk, and the thing was slimmer now, smaller. That seemed almost trivial compared to the fact that the monster had just come back from the dead.

“Pathetic food. You take my kindness for permission to show insolence. You will pay, and I will have my meal, no matter what it takes,” the demon spat.

Strips of flesh began peeling away from the demon’s body, revealing a grotesque mix of petals lined by thorns. Black sludge spilled down from the monster as its limbs began to take shape as vines around the petals.

“Rotflower,” Bron called out as he waved everyone back.

“Ah yes, it’s been decades since someone called me by my proper name,” the demon replied, finally showing a smile. “For that, you get to watch your friends die first.”

As the Rotflower spoke, its body kept transforming. From the chest up, Rowan could still imagine the monster as some kind of person. Below that were four ridges of bone and cartilage, while the torso-turned-petals splayed out like some kind of sick flower. At the center of it all was a heart. A sick, infested-looking thing that somehow still functioned. Each time it pulsed, black sludge bulged through the many, many blood vessels that led away from it, cycling into the vines and petals.

Honestly, Rowan wanted to just turn away, run, and scrub the thing from his memory.

This is real life. I can’t run when things get hard.

The Rotflower took a step forward and everyone, including Bron, flinched back a couple of steps. It laughed. “Here’s a peek to what you’ll become once I’m through with you.”

The vines shot out and attached themselves to four of the downed soldiers. A couple moments later, the previous dead men stood back up. Rowan saw that their eyes were unfocused and empty, and their bodies moved more like marionettes than living creatures. They moaned in unison, a tortured, unearthly sound, and when their mouths opened, Rowan wanted to gag.

At the back of their throats, he spotted a black flower-like growth, its roots spreading down and up into the soldier’s bodies.

“No, no more.”

“It hurts.”

“Kill me, kill me, kill me.”

“It’s in my brain, in my chest, in my heart.”

The reanimated soldiers began to cry for help, straddling the line between being alive and dead.

For the first time since Rowan knew the man, Bron faltered. His face paled as his feet stumbled backwards.

“We can’t fight like this,” Olivia whispered.

“Give up the struggle,” the demon said softly. It watched as panic rippled through the soldiers who saw their dead friends stumbling forward. “Your outcome was already determined when you came to fight me instead of running like morsels should.”

Rowan could see the group’s morale flagging. If the demon could turn the dead into his allies, then the war of attrition was flipped against them. There was a chance that the reanimation was a one-time thing, but Rowan couldn’t count on that.

“Send the men back,” Rowan suggested. Bron looked at Rowan like he had lost his mind. “They can’t fight against their friends. And anyone who dies to the demon can be turned against us. Send them back.”

“Retreat. Pull back,” Bron commanded, taking Rowan’s advice. To their credit, the remaining soldiers didn’t just cut and run. They pulled back in an orderly fashion.

“Don’t go too far, my morsels,” the demon hissed. The smile was still plastered on its face. “I’ll find you all soon enough.”

With the four resurrected soldiers, it was five against five. But Rowan found a way through the problem by doing the thing that heroes do best.

“I’ll take care of the undead,” Rowan said as he moved away from the group. “Focus on the demon.”