Nothing about the situation made a lick of sense to Tallah. In all her postings at the Rock, she’d never seen a nighttime assault to have even an inkling of tactics behind it. It was either a race towards the ravine and the promise of escaping into wider Vas, or a tidal wave of meat crashing against the walls.

Every time the daemon hosts, regardless of numbers, had been crushed between the combined might of the Twins. The doctrine of war in the Cauldron had never failed…

Now, here it was. A feint to draw her fire while the other monstrosities lobbed soldiers onto the walls from the back ranks. If that wasn’t just the cheekiest bit of mischief she’d ever seen! In any other circumstance, she’d appreciate the surprise.

‘We may need something a bit more impressive,’ Christina mused. ‘A decimation strike to break their morale?’

“It doesn’t work on these,” Tallah mused as they loosed more fireflies out into the masses of monsters. “You need self-awareness to successfully demoralise an enemy. Daemons don’t have that. Not the fodder.”

She expected the dragon to make an appearance at some point. Or, at least, that white-faced beast from the city.

Neither deigned to show up. It boiled her piss.

With Vilfor guarding her back and Christina guiding her fireflies, she had enough resources and time to plan a proper countermeasure to what they threw up at them.

The monsters on the walls were inconsequential. The Rock’s garrison was more than sufficient to handle some dozen beastmen as they charged the walkways. Even Vergil was fighting and doing quite well from her estimation. She held back on helping him. Other soldiers had the boy’s back.

But those down there could prove an issue if she didn’t carve a large enough rent through them. They’d run come daybreak, but that was still a long time away. There would be uglier things coming from the forest soon enough. Nagas hadn’t yet made an appearance. Nor had the grave horrors or those strange multi-eyed flying heads. At this level of the infestation, she also expected the butterfly-winged dream eaters, but those were always a rare and terrifying sight.

Red lightning arched around her fingers as she and Christina built up a charge.

“I need some time,” she called to Vilfor.

The vanadal cleaved a beastman in two and hurled the body off the wall.

‘Tell them to stop wasting the blood. You want help, get me blood to use,’ Anna admonished. ‘You’ve barely enough in you to feed a bat, let alone a proper channelling.’

Tallah sighed. “Stop wasting the bodies. Throw them down in the courtyards. I need them.” She couldn’t believe she was saying this, but Vilfor didn’t question it. The next wolf-headed beastman that came at him found itself headless before it managed to raise its rusted axe.

Vilfor kicked the corpse down on the proper side of the wall and relayed orders to a runner. The boy looked as confused as the commander, but ran off to spread the word. Soon corpses began to gather in the inner courtyard.

Tallah focused her mind to the battle. This was a halfhearted assault at best on the daemon’s side. Again, an anomalous behaviour. Even so, it couldn’t be allowed to proceed. The Rock needed a few days to rebuild strength so they could better plan their next moves. This was why Vilfor had listened to her and hadn’t taken to the field on this night.

For respite to be feasible, the walls needed to be held.

Power cycled through her. Such a simple exercise this was, and yet its effects were tremendous. If she had focus to spare, she’d chastise herself for never reading that tome from Ludwig. Its opening sounded trite, true, but Grefe made it clear the Makers understood illum on a level that made modern use seem primitive at best.

Some winged horror descended on her. She caught a glimpse of it, all talons and teeth, like some flying centipede, thrashing through the air and promising painful evisceration.

Archers brought it down before it got within killing distance. To have tens of eyes guarding her back was a pleasant feeling. But, as vicious and brutal as Vilfor was, she would’ve preferred Vergil and Sil at her back. With them scattered, she couldn’t shake the itch on the small of her back, constantly expecting a knife there.

‘Focus,’ Christina suggested. Tallah obeyed.

Power thrummed through her, climbing in pitch as she began to glow in the midnight dark. The coils of red lightning outshone the moons already, and only got brighter the more she and the ghost amplified their shared load. Every monster for leagues would see the beacon on the wall and make for it. If they were even remotely intelligent, they’d know to run.

It was nearly too much to control. Nearly. She and Christina teetered on the razor’s edge of disaster, pushing still for new limits. Just a bit more.

Another ball of beastmen climbed over the wall to rain down bodies onto the defenders. Several fell close to her, and were on their feet before any of the archers had finished dealing with the previous wave. They howled and rushed, weapons held high, bloodlust screaming tearing through the well-disciplined order of the soldiers.

In a flash, Vergil was there. He ran up the stairs, past her, and shoulder tackled the closest monster. With an impressive heave, the boy toppled the monster off its feet and threw it down into the pit.

The next he met with axe and sword, dancing between its strikes like he’d been born to it.

It nearly tore her focus away from the weave. A lick of the lightning deadening the nerves of his arm brought her back around.

Some of the monsters got past the boy, reaching within two paces of her. They burst into red paste the moment they entered her killing field. Those behind fried and screamed. A single bolt of power had grounded itself through them and left only ashes in the wake of its passing, slightly dimming her prepared strike. The bolt grew wild and unruly and Tallah had to strain to bring the power back under her control.

A Titan’s Punishment would have done some damage down there, but it was entirely too localised of an effect. It would kill whoever was in its path and spread out for some distance, but it wouldn’t be enough.

Her Disintegration was useless from a distance, but it would kill a great many monsters in one strike, especially if the effect perpetuated.

What she and Christina prepared was an insult to every law of channelling they were both aware of. The monstrous potential of their concept would be enough for Hoarfrost to demand her head twice over, without even considering the sin of soul theft.

Just a bit more. The world dimmed to a red glow, all her focus drawn inward at keeping the build-up going and under control. If she failed, she’d burst apart and take the entire wall with her.

Rhine watched from the side, hollow eyes grown wide. She mouthed words.

Fear sweat evaporated off Tallah’s brow as she shut her eyes against the red glare and the sight of her sister. Even so, her arm shone like the sun and hurt her shut eyes in a way that promised complete blindness.

Any moment now.

Christina executed the cast. Power screamed out of them, wild and barely controllable, the lightning spilling off the walls and onto the monsters like a great unravelling curtain of death. Casting it like this was part Titan, part Disintegration in its effects. It fed on both Tallah and ghost, sucking in both their stores of illum.

The effect was death on an unimaginable scale.

Even as they struggled together to control the abomination, Tallah knew what it accomplished. The front ranks of the monsters was simply gone. Whatever was meat at the base of the wall disappeared into less than blood mist. Screams errupted and were snuffed out. The entire Cauldron shook with what they’d unleashed.

Christina gasped in the back of her head, the cost unexpected to both of them. Tallah’s knees buckled and she would’ve fallen if not for Vergil. He was at her side, hands on her shoulders, helping her save dignity.

Down below, the red lightning spread like a plague, chasing able bodies, jumping from corpse to melted corpse. The kill count would be colossal.

Vilfor whistled as he approached. He held a headless beastman by a foot and threw it down into the pile below.

“I don’t want to know what you’ve just done,” he said, “or how. If you can do it again, we may just survive this.”

Tallah shook her head. No. This wouldn’t happen again, not on this scale. Her veins screamed in agony. Christina’s seal was a spot of undiluted pain on her back, burning in her skin as if it threatened to rip out. They’d had the idea to combine the two devourers via this method, but hadn’t expected the incredible synergy they would command. Or its incredible cost. That they’d manage to control the discharge without a single limiter between them was nothing short of a bloody miracle.

Was this how Catharina had won her wars? Was this how she smashed Bastra’s walls? Had she stumbled across these secrets on her own?

“I’m not doing this again any time soon,” she said. Coughed. Tried to swallow but found her throat parched.

If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

Vergil handed her a canteen of water, still staring out at the devastation. Tallah could barely make out his features among the coloured blobs marring her sight. She knew men were still fighting on the walls only by the sounds of their struggles. Beasts cried out and died in droves.

“There’s more in the forest,” Vilfor said as he gazed out. “You haven’t reached that far.”

Tallah couldn’t even see properly to the end of her nose. Her glasses had almost not survived the first tests in Grefe—her clothes certainly hadn’t. She didn’t even dare look down on herself, expecting her dignity to not survive the night.

“The big ones?” she asked instead.

“Aye. Them. Some flying ones too. They’re not coming close.”

“Good. I suggest we consider them intelligent from here on out.” Speaking hurt her throat. The discharge had scarred every bit of her. Still, she forced herself to word out her thought. “If they can feel fear, they’re intelligent enough to be a problem.”

“Agreed,” Vilfor rumbled. “Boy, back to your duties.”

“This is my duty,” Vergil said matter-of-factly. His confidence surprised Tallah and she choked on the water. “I’m sworn to her, not you.”

“Can’t argue with that, Vilfor.” She chuckled, acutely missing Bianca’s support.

‘I am completely spent,’ Christina whispered. ‘This is worrying. I didn’t think I could get burnt out like this.’

The problem was they had no way to treat Christina’s issue. Tallah could take more ink nettle, but that wouldn’t help the ghost.

Hang back and wait it out. It takes some time to regain ability. Don’t strain. She offered a smirk as she felt Christina attempt to pull in strength through her. Don’t be a child, Christi. Rest now.

Got back an image of Christina showing her a middle finger from her perpetual office.

The battle waned, the carnage below turned into a feeding frenzy for the survivors. The beasts that had lived fell upon the burning corpses and ate, the bloodlust spreading. This had been much more effective than she’d hoped. It was still a long time to morning, but—

An unmistakable roar filled the air and her eyes shot upward, to scan the clearing sky. Sure enough, among the throbbing blobs of after-light, there it was. It swooped down from the high clouds, sailed over the battlefield and landed heavily in the middle of the carnage. The nearest daemons turned their weapons on the dragon as it began eating its fill from the dead. It swatted aside several of the beasts with great swipes of its tail, then with claws. They fell upon it, a new focus for their frenzy.

The great lizard seemed confused for a moment, then reared up on powerful hind legs. It spat a stream of purple flames at its desperate assailants, moving it at in an arc across the survivors. More burned and died as the dragon dropped back down and began eating.

“Not on their side, then,” Tallah said, fascinated by the sight. “We don’t annoy it, it leaves us alone.”

“It’s beautiful,” Vergil said, eyes fixed on the feeding creature. “Do… Can… I…”

“Words, Vergil. Think the words and then speak them.”

“I don’t even know,” he admitted. “I always wanted to see real dragons. It’s terrifying.”

“Be happy it’s down there and not coming up here. Ready food is more tempting than one that fights back.”

“Could you fight that thing, if it turned on us?”

“I could make it bleed. Beyond that…” She shrugged. “What do you see in the distance?”

“Uh… where?”

She pointed in the direction she knew the Anvil, the Rock’s twin, would be. Vilfor had said little on that one, concerned with immediate survival, but she wanted to know more about what went on there. Vergil’s sight was a great deal better than hers, glasses or no. Maybe it was his unique origin, but she was pretty certain his eyesight was nearly aelir-like.

“There are fires there,” he said, squinting into the night. “Over the forest, yes?”

“That one.”

“You can see that far?” Vilfor asked as he drew closer. “We’ve one spyglass left in the whole bloody Rock, and it’s locked up. I’m taking the boy as a scout.”

“Ignore him, Vergil. Do you see fighting?” Tallah asked.

The boy scoffed. “I don’t have telescopic vision, Tallah. I can see… another fortress. And there’s another army there, on its walls. I can’t see more.”

“There are fires burning, yes? Like down here?”

“Yes. Pyres. Big ones.”

Then the Anvil was still fighting. That was a pleasant surprise. If it had been plagued by the dragon swooping down to feed, then this distraction here may have lent the defenders there some time to draw a breath. It was hopeful thinking, but at least now she knew why Vilfor refused talking about the issue.

“You’ve lost the tunnels,” she said. She hadn’t meant the withering tone, but really… they had lost the bloody lifeline connecting the two fortresses. Wherever Thulin rested, he would be spinning in his grave.

The vanadal growled. Of course he’d hate admitting it. He’d been promoted into the role by chaos alone, then lost his cadre on the same day. Admitting to losing the tunnels would break even greater men than he. The only way he could’ve failed harder as a commander of the Twins would have been to lose the city below, which explained the desperate field action of the previous night.

Vilfor drew a deep breath and answered, “First day, aye. We got hit from there too. We’ve sealed them best we could, but men swear they can hear digging. It’ll be a matter of time.”

A cheer went up from the ranks of soldiers, followed by chanting. Again, they were crying out her name. Cinder would always cling to her like ash, regardless of how far she ran from those early days of service to the Eternal Empire. Shame for all that Cinder meant nearly overshadowed the glory of the moment. Tallah allowed herself to bask in the moment and accept the soldiers’ gratitude, regardless of how it was delivered.

Rhine wandered about the walls, lost and unseeing, as if trying to determine where she was and why. Tallah ignored the wraith as it passed by. Christina, even spent, could keep the apparition occupied, so Rhine’s gaze never met hers.

“Is this why you were called Cinder?” Vergil asked, pointing down at where corpses still smouldered with the final effects of her casting.

“This is where I earned my name. Right here, in this very spot. It’s ironic in a way.”

Vergil shrugged. “Cool.”

Vilfor bellowed for silence on the walls. The night wasn’t done. The dragon may have been on their side for the night—or its stomach’s more likely—but there was no reason to invite its attention. Archers leaned back behind the parapets, and soldiers began dragging the wounded away. Vergil threw her one final look, checking if she could stand unassisted, then headed back down the stairs to help with the triage.

For once, luck had been on her side.

‘What next?’ Christina asked.

Illum flowed into her seal again, answering the ghost’s call. A tremor of panic melted away at the first touch of power. Tallah allowed herself several heartbeats more of hollowness. Flesh was somewhat more capricious than soul thread.

“Next,” she spoke aloud, “we’re going to go and check up on the Anvil.”

“I’ll have a squad ready at first light,” Vilfor said.

“No. I’m not taking anyone with me.”

The dragon raised its head to the sky and forced down a mouthful of corpses. It choked on them, but eased the issue with a blast of its furnace breath. It swallowed and went back to feeding.

“They’re still out there during the day,” Vilfor went on. “In the forest. You won’t make it alone.”

“I’m not alone. And I don’t plan on walking.”

She wove several orbs of flame in the air. They were shells of fire, not really worth much, and barely enough to give a beastman a sunburn. But sometimes it was the posturing that got the idea across. If there was some intelligence guiding the daemons now, it should learn to fear her.

Vilfor wanted to protest. But something odd happened down there.

Tallah spied it in the thick smoke. A shape drifted on the up-drafts of hot hair. Great black wings carried it silently towards the dragon. Her heart leapt into her throat, choking the air out of her. This wasn’t a good moment to confront that monster. A panicked prod brought Anna to the surface of her mind.

‘I’m busy,’ the ghost admonished.

“Tough.” Tallah growled and squinted at the familiar shape approaching the dragon on silent wings. “That thing’s back. I need eyes.”

Anna sighed inwardly and did not make the change pleasant. ‘I need you to learn to do this on your own. I do not aim to be your personal flesh sculptor.’

The murky sight of the field came into sharp, almost painful focus as Tallah’s eyes shifted to something more predatory. She could see every ridge on the dragon’s hide, every crack in the bones sticking out through it’s armour, and every organ dangling out of the mound of daemon flesh in its mouth. Liquid black eyes caught her gaze for the space of a heartbeat and she felt the creature’s interest in her. It faded just as quickly as it walked away, stomping through the frozen field, picking up more victims.

Those that tried to flee were incinerated in purple flames. Tallah envied that jet of fire, the purity of it when the dragon ignited. Now she dearly wished Mertle would make her some gloves that resisted dragon fire. With what she’d gleamed off Grefe’s hoard of knowledge, she was more than willing to go hotter now.

The flying demon stopped and hovered above the dragon, wings silently flapping in the smoke. Only the smoke’s distortion signalled its presence.

“What’s it doing?” Vilfor asked. “It’s not attacking.”

Tallah grumbled. A feeling of unease knotted her guts. Her hair stood on end, strands rising as if a storm loomed.

“It’s casting a spell,” she surmised. “Loose on that thing!”

Vilfor’s order roared across the battlements in the space of the next heartbeat. Some archers reacted in confusion and their arrows crashed against the dragon’s scales. Most, however, had seen the menace.

The distance was great and most arrows would probably not reach as far as that even at a cresting arc. She doubted even her lances could maintain coherence across the distance, especially not before she was fully recharged.

But Vilfor was already bellowing down below, at the engines of war they kept in reserve. Soldiers scrambled to obey, turning the great catapults according to instructions from the walls.

They’re not going to hit it with rocks. But then she saw what they were loading. Great weighed nets of iron were set atop the weapons, ready to be flung out. Smart man, Vilfor.

She drew in power, working to replenish her reserves, Anna helping with her own.

‘What are you reacting to?’ the ghost asked.

I’m not about to let that thing do whatever it means to. I don’t know what it is, but I don’t want to learn it.

She’d been on the receiving end of too many surprises. This one she wouldn’t allow to come to pass.

The energy in the air turned electric, like razors scrapping across her skin. The dragon sensed it and looked up, turning around faster than a thing that size should have been able to. It stared right up at the black daemon, opened its mouth, and purple fire errupted into the sky.

It was too late.