With a powerful beat of its wings, the alcaoris has regained the sky. And this time, he’s mad. Even though the route through to the tunnel is wide open, with my much-reduced group of Bound pelting across the ground as fast as their weary limbs can take them, the draconic creature shows no intention of heading for it. Instead, it seems to be aiming itself directly at my single largest group of Bound. To my increased horror, it’s the group that includes Bastet and Lathani.

In desperation, I grasp for a solution. Nothing that we’ve thrown at the creature so far has done more than make it pause for a short time. I can’t even try Dominate on it again – not because I don’t think that I can use it on the same creature twice in a row, but because I still feel overstretched in whatever facet governs its success or failure.

The alcaoris inhales and I’m running forwards before I’ve even thought about it. If I can only use my wooden shield to protect them, it’s better than nothing. And it’s better if I’m the one struck – I already know how to heal myself from the deeper effects of the acid attack. I’m the only one with the fire-affinity mana which seems to do so well at purifying its effects.

Fire-affinity….

A moment before the jet of acid hits, I throw forward my own jet. It travels across the distance and the billowing flames strike the acid attack. The fire doesn’t nullify the alcaoris’ strike, but it does divert it enough that my Bound escape almost unscathed.

They bolt past me, entering the edge of the forest. I suddenly realise that I’m the only one still visible in the clearing and my heart quails slightly inside my chest as the alcaoris turns his undivided attention to me. For a moment, we’re both frozen, eyeing each other up.

You have stood between my eggs and me for the last time, I hear in the same way we communicated during the Battle of Wills. Why now? Has he decided that he deigns to grace me with his speech? Or is this a holdover from the connection we had in that space? It’s a voice full of menace.

We don’t have to be enemies, I try, attempting to project my mental voice back in the direction of the emotion which carried the alcaoris’ message. The offer of a deal is still open. There is no response.

Biting my lip, I get a very bad feeling about what’s about to happen. The alcaoris, instead of attacking me, starts flying in ever decreasing circles around the clearing. As he flies, he starts glowing green, wisps of acid flickering over his scales.

Those who can, run, I tell them, unease running through me. I don’t like the look of this.

I will not run while a Pathwalker remains in danger, swears Shrieks, Iandee in uncharacteristically quiet agreement. That Peace doesn’t say anything surprises me – until I realise that he is one of those struck down in the last fight.

You’ll run because you need to protect Joy and River, I tell him bluntly.

But what of you? he asks, almost plaintively.

I have a better chance of surviving this than any of you, I tell him, hoping that I’m right. He needs a target, and I’m the slowest of all of you. And this was my fight – I brought you into it. It should be me that finishes it.

Guilt curdles in my stomach at having done that. At having brought us into this battle. At having kept us in this battle when hindsight says I should have retreated and come back later. At the failure of my battleplans – I’m not a general! Who decided that I should be the one to command fighters?

Overhead, the wisps of acid mana which had been flickering over his scales now start gathering between his front claws, a ball of acid mana building up. I figure that it’s either going to create a death beam or bomb of some sort, though it could be something else for all I know. This must be that final ‘unknown’ ability which I saw with Inspect.

Just run would you?! I yell down the Bonds. I don’t want more dying for this doomed fight than have already.

Cutting off communication from my Bound, I try to think of a way that I will be able to survive this too. The only thing I can think about using which might possibly work is fire, but I won’t have enough mana to sustain anything powerful for very long – I don’t know how long this attack is likely to go on for.

Then a realisation occurs and I look to my side. Sure enough, Aingeal, my little fire elemental is still bobbing serenely over my shoulder, out of my usual field of view. Why hasn’t it attacked the dragon already? It was so eager to fight the samurans during the ranking fights; why isn’t it trying to protect me here?

I send a slightly accusing set of feelings to the fire elemental, doing my best to ask that question. Aingeal responds with confusion. It takes me a precious moment to work out the issue, but when I do, I feel like strangling someone – probably myself.

Aingeal is incapable of identifying one type of fight from another. That was obvious in the fight with the first samuran Warrior when it tried to kill the samuran. So, when I told it not to attack, it took that to heart, especially when I rejected its help when it offered it again. I didn’t tell it that the rules had changed, and that it should attack this creature…so it didn’t.

It takes a few more precious moments to communicate that I very much do want it to be part of this fight. Indeed, if it doesn’t help me with this next attack, I don’t know whether any of us are going to survive it: with the amount of build-up the alcaoris is dedicating to this, how can it be anything less than utterly devastating?

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Fortunately, the little elemental is very happy to act on my behalf, now it knows I want it to. Just in time: the alcaoris finally stops circling, hovering in midair, right above me. It releases the ball of acid, now about the size of its own head. The thing falls towards me with a chilling sense of finality.

Aingeal rises in the opposite direction to meet it, and I pour mana into the little elemental. It doubles in size, then doubles again with the influx of mana, its heart glowing brighter and brighter. It’s smaller than the ball of acidic mana, but I hope that doesn’t mean it’s weaker. Aingeal is the heart of the inferno which consumed almost the entirety of the forest of vine-stranglers. It’s the remains of a force of nature far more powerful than a mere Tier three beast – at least, that’s what I hope.

I pull the wooden shield over my head and huddle as close to the ground as I can – I have no idea what’s about to happen.

Brace! I cry down the network of Bonds.

There’s a moment of silence, and then the world explodes with a bright light that sears through my eyes. I close my eyes reflexively against the brightness, but it still hurts even with my eyelids in the way. I’m forced against the ground with crushing power and a wave of heat intense enough to make me feel like I’m breathing fire. A moment later, a loud, deep whoomph deafens me.

When the light dies away, I have to blink hard, still barely able to see anything. Automatically, I send mana to my eyes and ears, finding that my eardrums have been ruptured by the change in pressure, and my retinas have been injured. I quickly heal those and sigh in relief as my senses come back.

The rest of the damage seems to be deep bruises from being pressed hard against the rough ground, but nothing serious – I think my increased Constitution must be helping with that. I don’t bother healing those – they’ll heal easily enough by themselves and I might need the mana for other things.

Cautiously lifting the shield, I’m met with a scene of devastation indeed.

The trees closest to the clearing have been blown over completely, knocking into the ones beyond and making them tip precariously or even fall. It’s like pictures I’ve seen of sites where a meteor has hit, though not quite as widespread as those. Plus, there’s no dip in the ground itself. And I don’t think meteor strikes usually cause trees to catch light.

Fortunately, it doesn’t appear that we’ve accidentally set off a forest fire, but I can still see certain sections of trees smouldering, and the trunks of the worst affected trees are blackened and burned.

What happened?

Sirocco must pick up on my emotion as she sends me a quick series of images. She was watching from above through the whole thing.

The alcaoris dropped the bomb – since that’s the only thing I can liken it to – and Aingeal rose to meet it. When they met, a light bright enough to damage even Sirocco’s eyes was created, and a shockwave of force and fire went out from the meeting point in all directions.

Trees were pushed over like with the hand of a giant, but Sirocco didn’t see much of that – even as high in the air as she is currently, she felt the effects in updrafts which threatened to either rip her wings off or send her falling towards the ground.

The alcaoris didn’t come off completely unscathed: caught by updrafts, he was sent flying up and then to the side, slammed into the trees himself. Looking sharply to where Sirocco showed him landing, I see that his bulky mass is still there. I start moving in his direction, my body aching.

A flicker of light catches my attention – Aingeal drifts down to bob over my shoulder once more. It's down to a quarter of its usual size, glowing far less brightly than normal, and exuding a mixture of tiredness, satisfaction, and questioning. Like it’s seeking my approval, wanting to know it’s done a good job.

I send it my approval indeed – and my admiration for what it managed to achieve. I hate to imagine what would have happened if the acidic bomb had hit without interference. It might not have exploded to the same extent as it did, Aingeal’s influence is clear in that respect. But it would have clearly been powerful anyway: I wasn’t able to put that much mana into the little Fire elemental.

Then again, maybe it did use up something that remained of the inferno – my little elemental has definitely been significantly impacted by the blast. Hopefully it’ll recover in time. With a swoop in my stomach, I abruptly wonder whether it could have been killed if it had proved to be less than the ‘bomb’. I hadn’t even considered that possibility. Maybe I should have.

It does surprise me a little that there’s so little evidence of acid in the damage. But perhaps Aingeal managed to burn it off? Well, hopefully, my Bound won’t have accrued more acid damage then.

My Bound!

A shockwave with that force could have killed them, especially the most injured. I quickly send out a mental message, fearing what I might receive back. Or rather, what I might not receive back.

With everything that happened all at once, I don’t know if I would have felt the Bonds break as I did before. I don’t think I have many fewer Bonds than prior to the attack, but it’s hard to tell. At least my strongest Bonds are still intact, which is a relief.

We’re all here, Bastet answers, giving me a sense of being within a woven dome. The weaving lizard protected us. None of us are lost.

Now that she says it, I realise that there’s an odd dome-shaped object among the fallen trees, one that looks damaged by the shockwave, but still intact. Incredible relief goes through me along with shame.

I told them to run, hoping to keep at least some of my Bound alive, preferably my closest connections. Instead of doing that, Joy evidently found a different solution, one which could protect everyone.

Thank you, I say fervently to the Pathwalker. She sends me back a sense of exhaustion – it must have been tough on her.

By this point, I’m almost at the alcaoris who is starting to stir. It’s a bit of a risk, but I move around to his head and stare into his eyes. Like with the samurans, I create a cloak of fire around myself. This time, I add two wings like his to the demonstration. I can’t hold it long, but hopefully it’s enough to prove my point. I dismiss the fire with a wave of my hand, trying to make it look like it wasn’t just because my mana is almost empty again.

“I’m the one who destroyed the ‘trap trees’,” I tell him, doing my best to project my thoughts. I still don’t feel like I could hold a Battle of Wills for long, but hopefully he can hear and understand me. “We can keep fighting, but neither of us will come out of it intact. Make an agreement with me,” I offer once more, hoping that he can’t sense my bone-deep tiredness or grief.

At this point, though he’s clearly heavily injured, I’m not confident that I could kill him easily. A truce is the best case scenario: I don’t want to lose any more of my Bound and an agreement between us offers the chance to get what I really want. Killing a Tier three was never the intention.

Activating a Tame bond, I offer it to him, pouring in my intentions to help him find a different way to give his eggs what they need without causing unknown damage by continuing to block the Energy stream.

Taking a deep breath, I send it over to him to respond.