God’s anus drew all mana into it, forcing the magi to abandon Blackwood castle or risk impotence. Though it had a pleasant side effect of absorbing the mana that created the portals as well. For two precious days, Blackwood Castle knew peace as portals winked into being then flew upwards, deforming into teardrops before falling into the puddle of purple death. Two days later. God’s anus began to harden, its hazy purple mist clarifying into a sky blackened by ash and soot.

The largest portal ever to exist was finally opening. To prevent it from obliterating anyone, Liam had sent all non combatant’s away, a task aided by the sudden halt to portal appearances. Now it was the four people who had once portaled from Greenhaven to Avignon, a chaotic group who were now closer than twins.

“It’s stopped collecting mana…” Said Rhendal.

“Yes, now is the time. Leave no regrets behind. Nyota, do not heal anyone today. Once you’ve shot every bolt of lightning I need you to retreat.” Said Liam, strapping one of the brass golem’s swords to his belt.

“I’m not leaving you behind.” Retorted Nyota, wrapping her arms around his waist.

Liam reached over his shoulder, sweeping the air in a soft arc that ended on Nyota’s platinum hair. He guided her head forward, over his shoulder and planted a kiss smack dab on her lips. Making her melt with affection. Practically purring at his touch. Which vibrated his beard, tickling them both.

“This is a well practiced tactic from my world. They call it a fighting retreat. To prevent chaos we’ll fight in waves and any injured or drained mages will leave first. I’ve warned Blackwood’s citizens, and many have already fled, but Blackwood Castle is going to fall today. Our goal is to kill as many of the creatures as we possibly can before that happens. To this end, we’ll undertake a fighting retreat, Arlet, if you would elaborate further.” Said Liam.

He snapped to attention, brass spear in hand and a steel kite shield with Blackwood’s emblem splashed across the front. If he survived the shield would no doubt be scrubbed to a mirror finish, but for now he allowed the monsters to strike at Blackwood’s sign.

“Yessir! In summary, we are abandoning the fort, slowest units will leave first, and fastest units will leave last. That should give us the best opportunities to inflict casualties while also spending the fewest lives. We’ve assembled Blackwood’s remaining carriages and wagons, as well as his pack mules, asses, and steeds. I’ve even got a few dairy cows hitched to wagons. We’ll evacuate in waves, with wounded men being triaged and evacuated first, since they can be healed fully after winter falls.

The former slaves will fight the initial waves first, since they are likely to suffer the greatest casualties. Once they are reduced to half strength they’ll withdraw and the Greenhaven militia will replace them, followed by Blackwood’s forces. Those who remain intend to win, or at least fight to the death, brave fools.” Said Arlet, shaking his head with a smile; as only a champion who dreamt of duels to the death could. “The knights, magi, and myself will bolster each wave from the front, though we will retreat in groups. Should a magi be wounded or exhaust their mana, then a knight will escort them back to Mont St Michel. Matimeo and Nyota will use their spells first, once exhausted Soren’s magi will take over. Subsequently, Niana, Rhendal, and Lord Liam will be last, per his orders–”

“I’m not leaving you two behind!” Snapped Nyota, tightening her grip around Liam’s chest and burying her face into his shoulder.

He scratched the back of her head, the spot between her ears that she couldn’t quite reach alone. “I’m only staying behind to keep Niana safe, her hulks must serve their purpose, and Rhendal can portal us both home once she is done. In fact, we’ll reach Mont St Michel before you do, so in a way, we are leaving you behind- ow!” Said Liam, trying to tease Nyota and earning a chomp to the collarbone for his troubles.

“Mmm nnnn.” Nyota grumbled through clenched teeth.

Liam nuzzled against her ear, whispering the answer to a question Nyota didn’t know she was asking. Then he pecked her cheek, retreating from her slack jawed expression.

“That’s… Impossible…” Said Nyota.

“I’ve got it on good authority, straight from Rhendal’s own lips. You’ll see me again, pinky promise.” Said Liam.

“As if Liam understands the concept of possible or impossible. He speaks the truth.” Interjected Rhendal. “You are in a vulnerable state my lady. Oh Soren, be a good lad and portal back to the king when IT shows up.” Finished Rhendal, handing Soren a journal.

“It?” Repeated Soren, equally annoyed and confused by the sage’s vagary.

“Hush! You’ll know what I mean.” Snapped Rhendal.

Arlet cleared his throat, gesturing towards Blackwood Castle. A squadron of the magi and officers returned to the gatehouse, finding the gates open. Liam held Nyota the entire way, savoring every second of her company. Dorian’s outriders were on standby manning the gates, ready, but not yet engaged. He sounded a horn, blowing until he was red faced and breathless.

Upon hearing the summons every man in earshot left his home, bringing their spears to Blackwood Castle. Tallying more than five hundred men, and a few women to boot.

Liam beheld the men of Blackwood, marveling at farmers who picked up weapons to defend their homes. These were not warriors, many were gray, balding even, or men who would more accurately be called boys. Yet they came, marching to defend their homes. Is this what happened in Greenwood? Wondered Liam, recalling the first company lost to the portals. This world lacks Christian charity, but maybe… They have Taloc’s own courage. Ah, I've been so focused on what this world lacks, I haven’t spent the time to appreciate what it possesses…

Spears clattered against cobblestones, heralding the five hundred farmers. Bolstered by their allies, Liam took his position overlooking the courtyard, Nyota on his right, Niana in his lap, and Arlet to his left. Mana pooled in the air, raw radiant power that Liam quickly bent to his will, charging his staff, then Nyota’s Teutonic Codex –the vaunted ‘Cody’. Whose letters moved whenever Liam tried to sneak a peek over Nytoa’s shoulder.

Rhendal’s detection crystals began to dip, finally pointing at something besides the dragon portal above. As a single portal began to form in the courtyard below.

“I guess even calamities have to learn how to walk.” Said Liam, aiming his finger at the portal and disrupting it with a single ‘pew’.

It flickered out of existence, reforming almost instantly as a rush of mana rejuvenated the gateway, stabilizing the electrifying interruption.

“Bummer.” Said Liam.

“Aye, twas worth a shot.” Said Rhendal, chuckling at his pun.

Where the first portal had formed there were now two smaller portals. In seconds they opened, accelerated by the Dragon portal in the sky above. Two hellhounds pushed into the world, met by scores of hunting spears. From Blackwood’s farmers to Liam’s freed slaves, everyone pressed towards the portals, bringing the beast down.

But, this time the portals did not fade. Seconds passed as new figures materialized on the other side of these stable portals. Permanent gates that spawned a new form of hellhound. The beast crossed their thresholds, jet black flames flickering against midnight skin and obsidian eyes. Unlike the hellhounds Liam was familiar with –which were creatures of flesh and blood– these were demons. Untameable, illogical, and born from human vitriol rather than a lupine womb. More akin to wrathful energy than any canines.

A third stable portal formed dumping a normal hellhound into waiting spears. Demon born or natural, the hellhounds were transfixed by spears. Arlet leapt from the wall, rolling to absorb the impact and sprinted into the fray.

He ducked under the forest of spears, parried a hellhound’s swipe with his gauntlet and slashed at the creature’s throat. The mighty brass blade bit deeply, opening the hound’s throat. Though it continued to thrash, spraying blood with each attempted howl. Its body running on adrenaline alone as its blood drained.

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“Push them clear of the portals! Get spears into their thighs! Help the knights cut their throats!” Shouted Arlet.

Slaves and knights understood, Arlet was a champion, he could parry attacks they could not. Guided by his orders more slaves joined the fray, thrusting spears into hellhounds til they could be lifted and carried across the courtyard towards Niana’s waiting hulks. Whose preposterous muscles made efficient meals out of the normal hellhounds.

Yet the demonic hellhounds did not bleed. Each spear penetrated normally, entering the creature’s hide. But no blood dripped free, nor did the demons slow as their throats were cut.

“Uh oh…” Muttered Liam, his hand straying toward’s Nyota’s waist.

If they exhausted her power in the first wave, it would give a greater head start, but that boded ill fortunes for those who came after.

The demonic hellhound nearest them twisted, breaking half the spears holding it. As if the dozens of foot long spear blades caused it zero pain. Its tail flicked, almost surprised as it suddenly found itself free. the monster lunged, obsidian fangs tearing into a former slave. He died screaming, torn apart by the hellhound pinning his legs under his front claws and pulling upward with his lupine jaw. Absolutely shredding the man.

Captain Dorian acted before others could intervene, leveling his pistol at the beast he sent a lead ball directly into the demon hound’s eye. Five of his outriders imitated him, blasting away at the target. Each of their balls found an organ, lungs, heart, stomach, and pelvis, yet the creature ignored them. Leaping forward into a wavering thicket of spears the hellhound claimed two more lives, claws slashing open ribcages and fangs rending unarmored throats.

“Nyoooo!” Shouted Nyota, leveling her finger-gun at the nearest demon.

She intoned the word of power and blasted away, her bolt connecting with the demonic hellhound’s skull and popping it open. Skull fragments and black brain ichor burst outward, peppering the unarmored slaves with vile darkness. Nevertheless, her attack was successful, claiming the first demon to be slain in Blackwood Castle.

Not ten feet away, the second demonic hellhound was tearing through Blackwood’s soldiers, it had already claimed the lives of ten conscripts, and was chewing on the eleventh when Alexander Blackwood hit it with a fireball. The beast staggered backwards, wounded but alive.

Ah, of course the demonic hellhounds are more resistant to fire. Thought Liam.

“Niana, can you blow out that demon’s flames?” Asked Liam, hoping to learn her wind magic by proximal osmosis.

The youngest immortal extended her hand, blue energy formed around it and in an instant she summoned a wind blade to make Kinseeker proud. It flew through the air at the speed of sound, impacting the demon’s upper back and failing to move the flames. Apparently fire wasn’t an actual component of demonic hellhounds.

“This… just got a lot more difficult.” Liam muttered.

Alexander Blackwood saw the wind blade fail and showed no mercy, pelting the creature with fireball after fireball, driving it back while his few remaining knights reformed the conscripts. A third fireball knocked the creature off its feet, and the conscripts charged. At least twenty spears stapled the demon to the ground, pincushioning it to the earth.

Yet it thrashed on. Men-at-arms pounced onto its back, thrusting their swords so deeply into the creature that its black flames licked their hilts, burning hands and forcing the men to withdraw. Neither pain nor wounds had any tangible effect on the demons.

It howled, a long low cry of hunger. And some arcane burst of air began to expel the blades embedded in its hide.

Conscripts dug their feet in, forcing their speartips into the howling gale. Human will versus the irresistible force of an ancient god. One whom should have remained dead.

Then Arlet arrived. His brass sword flashed gold, slaying the air on its way to cleave the demon’s neck. One stroke ended the howl, a second slash cleft the demon’s spine, and the third hack finally slew the demon.

Whatever magic had been imbued into the brass weapons, it was effective against the new demonic creatures. Arlet flicked his brass sword, scattering droplets of black blood across the dirt. Then he raised the blade in front of his face, appraising it and finding no damage or blemish on the weapon. He nodded in satisfaction, then tossed the blade to Alexander Blackwood.

“Give that to your best man, when he falls, the next warrior must pick up his blade.” Said Arlet, returning to Liam’s side and distributing the other brass weapons to his knights.

“Tis worse than I feared.” Muttered Rhendal.

Liam silently agreed, understanding they had lost twenty men to two hellhounds. More casualties had occurred in just a few moments than in the past week. And the portals were only beginning.

Each new portal spawned a natural creature first, then it solidified into a permanent portal and seemed to birth a demonic version of the initial creature thereafter. Dorian’s outriders expended the last of their powder on the natural creatures, running dry as the seventh portal opened.

They battled the portals for hours, Nyota used her lightning more readily, quickly exhausting her own affinity and turning to the teutonic codex. Since mortal weapons could not slay the demons her magic was the only thing separating the former slaves from death. The book was no average grimoire, every page was preserved by the boundless magic contained within. From the days it journeyed alongside Taloc, to the thousands of years it had remained as the Fulminonimbus’ icon, accruing mana from the hundreds of thousands of supplicants. Who worshiped it as proof of their own God. Nyota drained it’s power. Slaying hundreds of demons.

Her seemingly endless power made the world quake in fear of her passing. And the men of Blackwood would forever memorialize this day as the Lightning Queen’s awakening. As would the companies of Sintra, and the silver knights of Greenhaven. But she was only a single mage, and Liam employed every resource in their battle.

“Rhendal! Is there a spell for enchanting our soldier’s weapons? Something our fire mages can use?” Shouted Liam.

“Indeed there is… Now if only I could remember the chant… Ah, bloody heaven… Was it ‘By Taloc’s fury’ or ‘By Taloc’s balls’...” Muttered Rhendal.

“Finally gone senile?” Asked Soren, reciting the chant that Rhendal had taught him decades earlier.

"By Taloc's rage, let vengeance blaze,

With Ardor's blade, my foes I'll raze!

Through fire and storm, in battle's dance,

I wield the sword, in Taloc's trance!

With fervent might, I'll strike them down,

With Ardor's flame, their kingdoms drown.

In Taloc's name, I claim my right,

To vanquish foes in darkest night!

Flames engulfed the speartips of ten nearby slaves, and the chant was echoed by a half dozen fire affinity magi, including Rhendal. The spell proved mildly effective, since its fire prevented the demonic hellhound’s black flames from weakening the slave’s spearshafts. A blessed boon that allowed the slaves to pin them in position for a knight with a brass weapon to slay.

Six hours later the flames faded, Nyota’s power waning as her Teutonic Codex ran empty. Her fur was matted by sweat, evidence of her unwillingness to accept Liam’s strategy. Despite her will, It was time to retreat.

“Nyota.” Whispered Liam into her ear.

“Nyyooo!” Snapped Nyota, barring her incisors.

“If you don’t leave now, I won’t be able to convince any of the slaves, or Niana, or Lyra, or Nora–” Began Liam.

A paw –claws extended– slapped him across the face, drawing four thin lines of blood.

“Don’t use them against me!” Shouted Nyota.

Liam didn’t relent, nor did he raise his voice. He slowly moved his hands to Nyota’s cheeks, lifting her face to his.

“Nyota… In both of my lives, i’ve never found a woman more unjustly deprived, and more worthy of, love. This isn’t goodbye. I promise you that we’ll meet again.” Said Liam, heart hoping it was true, brain comprehending the lie.

“Promise?” Asked Nyota, her ears fully facing him, as if she could detect the lie based off his beating heart.

“Pinky promise, with a cherry on top.” Said Liam, interlacing their smallest digits and kissing his thumb before pressing it to hers.

“Stupid.” She said, burying her face in his chest to avoid laughing.

They lingered in that embrace for several long moments, yearning for the world to pass them by. Both had spent a lifetime unfulfilled, and now, just as they had found their true purposes. That which gave all their suffering meaning, it was being stripped from their fingers.

“Come back with me.” Begged Nyota.

“I must kill what comes out of that portal. No one else can.” Answered Liam.

“Arlet–” Began Nyota.

“No. Quetzalcoatl made that clear. I, a Lightning Lord, must be the one to meet that enemy.” Interrupted Liam.

Nyota broke free of him then, walking away. Two of Arlet’s knights –both wounded– followed her, escorting their Lady Green to her waiting carriage. She paused at the top of the stairs, looking back at Liam one final time.

“Don’t forget your first promise to me Liam. My daughters need a father.” She said.

Her final goodbye nearly broke his mask, only his love for her held it in place. They’ll have to settle for uncle Arlet and step-uncle Jenkins. Thought Liam, giving the greatest love of his two lives a final smile.

“I haven’t forgotten. Nor will I ever forget.” Said Liam, mentally reciting a saying his grandmother often said.

‘Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends.’