Light mages have made this place brighter than day, the reflections off of bared steel burn my eyes. I blink it away, but it still hurts. A burning hot bonfire rages at our backs, promising a tiny measure of safety. No one complains about it.

The howls haunt us from afar but grow nearer the longer we wait.

“Gather close, and don’t let them through!” The march commander orders aloud as our formations close in tight. Usually, we don’t stand this close to each other but the leaders seem to think the best way to fight the moon-blessed will be by grouping up tightly like this.

“Back rows, be ready to catch those that jump the front lines! Don’t assume they’re down until you’re certain!” He shouts over the rising howls, which are only growing louder. “Healers, fix their madness where you can, but don’t risk yourselves. Focus on anyone injured, and keep them from getting infected.”

The last of the orders call out and the squad leaders start to shout in his place, as we all shuffle in place, waiting for the enemy to come for us. Namor whines quietly, and I spare a moment to grip her shoulder comfortingly.

Grey is hiding out in the distance, while Crow is flying closer to try and help with scouting the enemy.

There’s no mistaking the rising howls. They’re coming for us.

Will he be here too?

Nadia and Lothar stand at the front with heavy shields meant to keep the enemy away. I stand with Theo right behind us as Adeleya and Namor stand behind us. Adeleya is channelling a fire spell, it’s a constant effect on the bonfire at our backs, rising a whirlwind high above and burning the thin canopy down to nothing.

We’re ready as we can be, but it won’t be enough against this enemy. We can’t win a fight if he gets to choose where and when we’re battling.

“They don’t make sense,” Namor whispers behind me, tugging at my padded armour. “Their voices make no sense.”

“It’s the sickness, making them insane,” I say, stopping myself and repeating in her language. She’s already shaking her head.

“It’s different,” she whispers, gripping her shield tight. Her spear is leaning up against her shoulder and the weight of it is still a little much for her. She’s positioned on the bridge between the unarmed families and the warriors, not quite part of either group.

Anna is nearby, but even with Titan, she’s awkwardly unable to find a place in our formations. Olive and Saya are with her, looking about, ready for a fight.

“Okay, it’s different,” I nod to Namor, listening close and trying to figure out what it means. I don’t think even she knows.

“Wolf-beast! Two incoming from the east!”

“Three west!”

“Four- no, six- a dozen from the north!”

A glimpse at them is enough to figure it out. They’re not moon-blessed, not really. They’re not anyone that Namor would recognise at all, they’re the victims turned by the maddened tribe.

Half-human beasts throw themselves at anything around them, there’s no pattern to what parts have changed and what parts haven’t. A man has his left side covered in fur and twisted into the shape of a wolf, but his human right leg is struggling along, unable to keep up with his strengthened left. He stumbles and tumbles, but never stays on the ground for long.

A woman has her entire top half turned and runs on all fours, her front paws clawing at the ground and throwing her body further forward. Her dress is long since gone, but she doesn’t seem to care, closer to an animal than a person.

It’s not her fault.

A small army follows them, blood and injuries cover each and every one of them.

I lift my long sword high. I need to do this carefully, with the others around me but it’s the only weapon I have with the length to reach them when they leap.

As the first wolf leaps at the front row, Nadia and Lothar meet it with shields high. They catch its claws and smash its shoulders with an axe and sword. A deep growl bursts out, it doesn’t care that it’s been hurt, it doesn’t care that its arms don’t work.

Long jaws with razor-sharp teeth snap just a few inches from Nadia’s face as Theo steps in thrusting clean into the creature’s neck. The insane man tumbles down to the ground, still gurgling on his own blood when another lands on him, taking his place.

A shadow flickers up from behind the newest fighter.

“Up!” I call out, readying my sword and thrusting up at the falling shadow. I’ve already used my chants and increased my weight, so when the falling attacker meets the tip of my blunted sword I expect to simply throw him back but instead when I hit his guts, he slides down the length of my blade.

His claws sink into my face before I can respond.

Strengthening my body, I grapple the man and dig out the disease inside him. Theo is busy helping the front lines and he trusts me to deal with his.

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“Grah!” Namor shouts, smacking the infected man back and giving me some breathing room. Even forcing my magic into him, the disease has consumed him so badly that I can’t pull it all out in an instant.

The man is already pulling himself back up as another merc grabs him from behind, incapacitating him for me. I nod my thanks and leap in thrusting my hand into his belly and bursting more healing into him. I could kill him and be done with him that way, but since I have a chance I’d rather try saving him.

I don’t want to kill.

It takes a few moments of pouring my mana into him to fix him, but when it’s done he falls, clutching at his stomach and howling in pain. The mercenary waits a moment before kicking the man back and retaking his position in formation.

“Keep it up!” the commander shouts from behind as I take in the sight of the battle.

The front lines aren’t quite overwhelmed, but each person is holding down a beast stronger than they are. Not all of them are fully focused on using a shield, and only a few have strengthening as good as mine. Theo is artfully using his sword to hack at limbs, but even with his efforts, it’s slow work.

Too slow.

Powerful mages are working around the outside, slowly eliminating the dozens of insane beasts but at the speed they’re working some of the people near me will already be hurt or even killed. Adeleya can’t use her fire, even if she was willing to, the enemy doesn’t know pain, the fire will just make it more difficult for us.

“Kick it into gear!” The commander shouts. “Finish them quick!”

At his command the front lines all at once shove back the enemy, those that struggle are supported by the row behind. I give my support to Lothar, throwing the enemy putting my weight behind his and pushing him through.

In the small gap we earn, magic flies.

Small stones, slick metal shards, ice, sparks of lightning, and anything else. Sometimes it’s on striking blades and hard-hitting hammers, shields that shimmer and some that glow, and darts that sizzle dripping green ooze.

A thousand warriors with a thousand techniques and weapons, stand and fight as one. Some blows almost annihilate the beasts with each hit, and some barely distract, but together the damage is incredible.

The insane enemy are halved in their number, and while not all are dead, the ones still living are stumbling on broken legs and limbs.

But, the howls are still rising.

“How many are there?” Lothar grumbles, staring out into the forest where the insane infected continue to pour out at us.

“Thousands, tens of thousands, maybe,” Theo suggests, his expression serious. “Just think, how many people could be hurt by one of these creatures before it’s put down? Ten? Twelve? Each of them then hurt ten or twelve more.”

“There’s… lots,” I say as Crow looks down over the swarm that is moving out to us. The people bitten were left behind by everyone, we healed those we noticed, but other groups didn’t even do that. The disease festered and now…

“We don’t have the endurance,” I say but Theo shakes his head.

“Worse. We can’t survive the press. If they crowd us in until we don’t have the room to swing our swords, then we’ll have lost,” he says as we throw back the closest infected. “The commander will figure something out.”

He sounds confident, just as calm as usual.

“I… I could do something,” I suggest, but he stops me short.

“No.”

He doesn’t explain. He doesn’t give me room to argue.

The corpses on the ground are mostly twisted and broken, but that doesn’t mean that I can’t use them if I have to.

It doesn’t take long before we’re buried behind just as much flesh as before. The infected tear at us, and I can see the injuries on Lothar and Nadia, but I don’t even have the time to heal them, too busy keeping the beasts back so that they have the room to keep fighting.

The knight-grade mages move by us, freezing the front row that we quickly shatter to bits, but even that is only a momentary breath in the overwhelming swarm.

How are they so strong?

Why does the moon-blessing do this to a person, and why does it make even a weak villager into something so powerful?

It’s not right.

Namor whines, thrusting her spear in past me to try and help, but even when she hits it barely does anything. The enemy doesn’t care about getting injured, they fight and fight and fight until dead or so broken that they can’t even move any more.

A man to the right of me falls, the beasts grab his arm as he’s attacking, dragging him out of the formation and the moment he’s outside the shield wall, they tear into him. His blood sprays over us all and his friends try to save him but it’s already too late. He was dead moments after he was taken.

As he falls, the infected push into the gap. We fight hard to push them back, I draw my shortswords cutting into them as they push through the press of bodies. In a few moments, the mages are here supporting us, the enemy is frozen and shattered as quickly as we can deal with them, but when we form back up into a new wall, there are fewer of us standing than before.

Screams spread out through the group behind me. More of the infected leap over the shield walls, and each time it takes longer for them to get put down.

Adeleya chants louder still, the whirlwind of fire at her back bending down from the top and landing amidst the enemy. The flames spread and catch on the fur of the enemy that then leap at us, eliminating dozens but making so many others more dangerous for her effort.

Nothing is working.

There are too many of them.

I can hear the screams.

The fire.

The smoke.

Everything is becoming ash.

“I’m helping!” I shout, shuddering as I gather my power. I have to give this my all, and that means that I’ll be knocked out after a few minutes. I’ll buy them only that much time unless I can beat them all.

I have to beat them all.

“No, not yet,” Theo bites back. “Wait until you see the end of them. Wait until they’re all here.”

I grit my teeth and smash my swords into the nearest beast.

He’s right, but…

Crow watches the tide of infected. They’re not all here yet, but they are starting to thin out further out from us. There can’t be too many more, even their howling is quieting, turning to growls as they come nearer to us.

“Gah!” Nadia stumbles, a set of powerful jaws catching her shoulder as a small infected woman crawls over the other one she’s fighting. I grab her, pulling her back so she doesn’t fall forward into the enemy. A quick thrust of my sword isn’t enough to stop the little thing.

Forgetting what she was, what she could be if we healed her. I thrust the sword into her jaws cutting Nadia just as much, before sawing outwards. Using as much force as I can muster, I finally sever the lower jaw of the little infected and toss her back out over the shields.

The formation is collapsing around us.

Even Namor is fighting for her life.

“Do it!” Theo growls, pulling Lothar back from being pulled out of formation.

“Everyone, please help me,” I whisper, forcing my power out into the open air. So much mana goes to waste as I weave through the open air, finding corpses and seeding my will into them.

Fallen infected and mercenaries alike accept the power I give them, remembering what it is to be alive. They rise, their open eyes showing me too much to understand. Too many things all at once.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “Thank you.”

I rise, my bodies all finding their feet at once.

My mind flickers black as my body and soul burn.

I scream, throwing myself at the enemy.