Ray tried to estimate numbers a bit in his head. He assumed there were about eight to ten powerful Everstead who were in on the whole plan besides their king. Safer to assume a dozen. Then he had seen another six Sylvans, including the Lord of the Third Floor, coming down.

All in all, they were numerically well-matched. He looked at his compatriots. Well…

If the last battle hadn’t depleted a lot of their energy and injured a bunch of them.

“How many of them can you heal up?” Ray asked Joaquin.

He looked calculatingly at the wounded. Then blinked. “Ugh, I don’t know. I should be healing everyone, not trying to determine who I can and can’t heal.”

“I understand. But this is a do-or-die battle. We have to be tactical. We don’t have healers galore over here.”

Joaquin wasn’t the only one with healing abilities, thankfully. There was one Sylvan who could perform a similar kind of regeneration power, and another Denizen who could heal as well. But even three different people healing the wounded might not be enough.

“I’ll take care of it.” Joaquin said with a sigh. “I think we should heal as many as we can, but not to full health. Just take care of the worst injuries, make sure they can stand and fight.”

Ray nodded. “Good idea. I’ll leave it to you, then.”

Nodding at the others who were relatively alright, he started towards the royal palace. A mix of Sylvans and Denizens followed as fast as they could.

Ray looked up as he approached the edifice. The Floor Lord had retreated into the throne room. There had been no sign of the king, nor of the Lord of the Third Floor, both of whom had to be there. Ray doubted there was some other means of reaching between Floors besides using the Eternal Guardian.

And that giant creature still hadn’t moved from where it was resting at the base of the palace.

Ray urged the rest of them to move on while he paused at the foot of the Guardian. He did remind them to be wary. Their opponents were powerful.

“One last task, big guy,” Ray said, gently rubbing the huge Guardian’s feathery leg. He wondered if it even felt something so minuscule. “Think you can do that for me?”

There was still a tenuous connection between them. That Tower Node of the Songstress really had forged something lasting. Ray was lucky it had lasted this long. Since it had, though, he would be foolish not to take advantage of it.

The Guardian rumbled out something he didn’t understand. It didn’t appear angry. Maybe just tired.

Slowly, carefully, he explained the plan to the Eternal Guardian. The giant creature listened patiently, almost intently.

“If this works,” Ray said with a promising tone. “Then we’re done. I swear.” He grinned. “Especially because you’ll be heading where I can’t reach you just yet.”

The Guardian’s call sounded quite accepting.

Ray’s eyes fell on the corpse of the Viledrake far, far above. Halfway towards the peak of the royal palace, the huge monster’s dead body was lodged into broken wall of the palace itself. Even now, the corpse was steaming. Pools of lava and molten chunks of the palace dotted the body.

He still had trouble believing that Mary had somehow survived that. But since she had, he had to wonder where in the world she was now.

Waving a farewell to the Eternal Guardian, Ray headed inside the palace itself. As he entered, he was joined by Kredevel and a small group of Denizens. Joaquin had already finished healing them, so now they were rushing to the battle.

“Good timing,” Ray said.

Kredevel smiled at him. “I am surprised you aren’t already inside.”

“I had a little thing to take care of.”

“Your pet Guardian?”

“Nope. Your Floor Lord.”

Kredevel looked at him questioningly, but there wasn’t much time to explain. They could already hear the distant sounds of screaming and fighting. No time to waste.

Rushing up the palace showed where a trio of Denizens were trying to hold off Cory. Ah, the bastard had indeed survived. Ray cursed. Why couldn’t the people he defeated stay beaten? It was Cory now. He wouldn’t be surprised if Mary Felds ambushed him from some hidden alcove.

“Go!” one of the Denizens shouted. He was beating back a storm of debris glowing a glimmering gold with thin, needle-like tendrils. “We’ll hold this one. Get to the top.”

Cory noticed Ray’s arrival. He tried to switch his attacks to the newcomers, but a woman zipped in, lashing at him with a spiny whip. Cory was forced to return his attention back to his assailants.

“Enjoy, Cory,” Ray said as he rushed past with a grin.

There was a similar situation all along the climb to the throne room. The members of the Everstead who were in on the plan were trying to stop their enemies’ climb. Ray wasn’t certain if they had been strategically placed at different locations, but he wasn’t about to complain.

That didn’t mean their rush to the throne room was completely uncontested. Just past the gate that led to the floor preceding the throne room, they faced their stiffest obstacle.

It was the Sylvans from the Third Floor alongside the man—

Ray blinked. “You’re him! The guy who released the Floor Lord. You’re…” He suddenly recalled where he had seen the man before. Ray blanched a little. He had healed the guy. That was his first patient on Cliff One. The man whose healing had provided the pathway for Ray to meet the Fleshcrafter personally. “You’re him. James.”

“How intriguing that you remember who I am,” the man said.

Despite his obvious youth, James looked confident. Powerful. Well, he had to be, considering he had jumped into the middle of an ongoing battle to personally free someone like the Floor Lord before flying off with her. What a fucking hero.

“Stand down,” the Sylvan in front of the group said. Ray recognized him. That was the guy who had spoken up against the Lord of the Third Floor in the throne room.

“We do not take orders from traitors like you,” Kredevel said. “The Burgeoner shall judge you for your frivolous actions.”

“You hardly know what you speak of, young one. It would do you well to stay silent and stand down. Listen to your elders, to your betters, before you suffer something irreversible.”

“Oh, that sounds like a threat,” Ray said. “Sorry, but my friend Kredevel doesn’t take threats lying down.”

He slapped Kredevel on the shoulder as he stepped forward.

Ray: Careful. They’re powerful.

This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.

Kredevel: Oh, I am aware.

That was good enough for Ray. Behind him, the other Denizens were spreading out to begin fighting against the Sylvans and James. But Ray flicked his fingers at them, indicating them to concentrate on the Sylvans and support Kredevel. They were a bit outnumbered, but if Ray could deal with James quicky, then he could lend a hand against the Sylvans too.

It was just a bit of a tall order to think he could defeat James fast enough. He was probably too strong.

Just as they were about to begin the battle, though, a shout rose up the stairs. A second later, Ray grinned as Gritty charge into their midst, leading a group of harried-looking Sylvans who had no doubt had great trouble keeping up.

“That’s him!” Gritty shouted. Her eyes flared with unbridled bloodlust and ever-building rage. “That’s the fucker who knocked me out. It’s time for payback, you asshole.”

Her explosive entry had shocked all of them. Even Ray was surprised by her sheer vitriolic ferocity. What he wasn’t at all surprised by was the way she charged and attacked James. Oh yes, that was good, old Gritty.

“We’ve come to assist you, Kredevel,” one of the Sylvans said. It was Serian. Ray recognized him as one of the few Sylvans who held nothing against Kredevel.

Kredevel himself nodded. “Then let us take care of these traitors. Ray, you go on ahead. Pay back the Floor Lord.”

Ray grinned. He was happy to see his friend remembered the fact that Ray was owed a rematch against the Floor Lord after she had chucked him off Cliff One. “Going to pay her back by throwing her off this damn palace.”

“Fair fortune.”

The battle had already begun, courtesy of Gritty smashing into the James. A golden shield was stopping her furious blast of attacks, where bone and blood slammed towards James in a volley that made Ray almost gawk. Gritty wasn’t just worked up, she was determined to end her opponent.

Ray wasn’t the only one looking for some payback here.

They tried to stop him as he got going. One of the Sylvans almost seemed to teleport in front of him. He was tackled away by Serian.

Then James himself appeared, blocking off the main path to the huge doors of the throne room with his body and a wall of golden flames. That was alright. Ray had other means of reaching his destination.

He swung to his left, heading towards the area where he had fought Cory and that huge axe-wielder. As he flew, he cast Lifeblood Soulform to create several dozen bees, granting them a bit of his intelligence to find and secret themselves in little rooms all over the floor. They’d come in handy when the final battle began.

It didn’t take Ray long to recognize the area or find the spot where he had breached the throne room from below. He grinned. Those idiots really thought they could let their little henchmen handle Ray and his cohort.

“Well, think again,” he said as he rose through the same hole he had used last time.

The throne room was the same as last time. A giant, mostly empty chamber with a throne on the raised dais at the far end on the right. This time, though, Ray noted the wide balcony behind the throne. He’d need it.

“I told you,” the Lord of the Third Floor said. “You should have patched up that hole.”

“Impossible.” The king of the Everstead stared at Ray like he had offended the royal great grandma. “Where are the others? James? Austin? Where are you?”

Ray grinned at them. His heart had begun to pound hard, but it wasn’t with fear. He was excited. “They’re a little preoccupied. Like you’re about to be, with me.”

The king fumed. Despite his form, he looked very un-Sylvan-like at that moment.

“End him,” the Lord of the Third Floor said.

The Floor Lord of the Second Floor looked on impassively. Ray had thought that he had caught the slightest frown marring her expression, but it was as though it had never been.

Ray stepped forward just as the king did, but he ignored the ruler of the Everstead. “Why are you sending your little Imitator lackey, Floor Lord? You afraid to face me on your own?”

The Third Floor Lord scoffed. “I would never lower myself to facing one such as you.”

Ray laughed. He nudged his head from the Everstead king to the Third Floor Lord. “You see, Your Majesty? This is the kind of creature you’re supposed to be dealing with when you climb higher up the Tower. Prideful, incompetent, and scared little creatures. Believe me, they might scorn you, but they’re no less of a pretender when it comes to ruling the Tower than you.”

Every single one of them bristled at Ray’s words. He really ought to receive some kind of award for being able to rile all three powerful entities in one go. It worked to perfection.

The Lord of the Third Floor actually stopped the king’s approach, stepping forward himself. “This little insect thinks far too highly of himself. There is no need to engage in pointless fights. I will squash it, and we can carry on as we have been.”

“I dare you—”

Ray blinked. The Third Floor Lord was already in front of him. There was no time to prepare himself, no time to do anything.

The Sylvan’s backhanded blow sent Ray flying.

He coughed out blood as he sailed through the air, feeling like he had just been bent in half in a fraction of a second. Insane power. Recovery healed up his injury real quick, but he was forced to use up nearly a quarter of all his entire capacity. Not good.

Ray summoned Soaring Wings. He was already flying so why not. The wings spread wide and allowed him to actually control his flight, and a quick flap took him past the throne and into the balcony.

Where, it appeared, the Third Floor Lord was already awaiting him.

“You seem to have a thing for being thrown off high places, little insect,” the Sylvan said. “So be it. I shall oblige your death wish.”

Ray righted himself. His enemy was almost upon him again, giving him no time to react. But thankfully, he didn’t need to react.

The balcony shattered as the Eternal Guardian rammed in from below. Ray was flying back to the edge as the Lord of the Third Floor got caught by the Guardian’s sudden appearance. He was strong, fast, powerful. But none of that mattered if he never saw the danger coming.

In this case, with his full attention on Ray, the strongest being on the Second Floor of the Tower of Forging had never seen the Eternal Guardian coming.

It was only after crashing through the balcony that the huge creature shrieked out into the air. The Guardian continued rising, shooting straight into the sky.

Carrying the Third Floor Lord with it.

“Unhand me!” The Sylvan’s screams were audible even after the Guardian had risen so quickly with him in tow.

He was certainly not making it easy. Spiralling growths burst around, piercing through the Eternal Guardian’s feathered body. Bursts of strange power struck the Eternal Guardian. Wounds rent open on Ray’s giant ally, blood and feathers raining down. He grimaced. But the Guardian maintained its grip on the Third Floor Lord.

“You can do it,” Ray whispered.

The Eternal Guardian could. The Eternal Guardian did. Despite its captive’s continued struggles, it bore the Sylvan straight into the spiralling clouds.

Then, both the giant bird and the Sylvan it bore disappeared. Gone, for good, from the Second Floor.

“No!” The king of the Everstead had come to stand in the balcony, staring skywards with growing horror on his face. A very, very un-Sylvan-like expression. “No! Come back, you feathered bastard. Come back, I say. I demand it. I order you to return.”

The Eternal Guardian was already gone, of course. Disappeared into the clouds.

“It’s not coming back,” Ray said. He straightened, trying his darndest not to smile smugly at his enemies. “Not until it’s time for me to ascend to the Third Floor.”

“You!” The king turned to him with burning wrath in his eyes. His whole form quivered, the expensive robes and jewellery all turning into Imitator grey as he stalked towards Ray. It was a little comical to see him walking around the giant hole in the balcony to get over. “I will rend you, piece by piece. I will tear you apart into a hundred, thousand smithereens. I will end you.”

“Sorry, no can do.” Ray jerked a thumb at the actual Floor Lord he cared about. “I’ve got someone else I need to kick the ass of. Maybe you can wait your turn?”

“You have no one and nothing to protect you now, you mongrel. If those were not your last words, then I suggest you utter them quickly before I rip your head off your—”

“Who said he has no one and nothing?”

Ray grinned as a stream of spiralling projections rushed towards the king of the Everstead. The fake Sylvan jumped back, warily eying the real one coming up the stairs from the huge doors.

Kredevel appeared. Ray wanted to say hi, but he kept his eyes focused on the Floor Lord who was still standing impassively at the centre of the throne room.

“You…” The king looked like he was one step away from frothing at the mouth. “Have you not heard the orders of your superiors? Stand down, or you shall be summarily eradicated.”

“I would like to see you try, impostor.”

For a brief instant, Ray met Kredevel’s eyes. The message there was clear. Regardless of the difference between Kredevel’s and the Everstead king’s power, his Sylvan friend would hold His Royal Majesty. At least until Ray was done dealing with the Floor Lord.

In other words, Ray could focus entirely on stopping his nemesis and the perpetrator of the horror of the Flesh Plague.

Kredevel rushed past, attacking the king of the Everstead with his powers flaring. Ray was tempted to actually observe his friend’s increased prowess for a second, but there was no time. The Floor Lord had caught his eye. Plus, he couldn’t waste even a millisecond of the time Kredevel was buying him.

He had to be fast. He had to win fast.

“You could stop this, you know,” Ray said. “You could end the Flesh Plague and let the actual Denizens climb to the Third Floor. Accept responsibility that you fucked up the Second Floor in your desperate wish to appease your dumb god. Despite everything you’ve done, despite all the atrocities you’ve committed, it’s still not too late to fucking stop.”

There was no change on her face. Not even a flicker that she had registered what Ray had actually said. “What do you take me for? Did you not hear? You are a mere insect. I do not take advice from some such base creatures.”

“That’s alright. You don’t need to take my advice. You can just take my pummelling instead.”

With a roar, Ray rushed at the Floor Lord. It was time to end the battle.