Loch appeared behind the Crone, Onyx swinging, the edge crackling with energy. The Crone sensed the attack, twisting and managing to summon a glowing green translucent shield. Onyx slammed into the surface, cracks spider webbing across the shield, crackling bolts of energy snapping. The smile was gone, replaced by a grimace of frustration.

A blob of silver energy slammed into the Crone’s back, staggering her forward. Loch swung again, blocked by another shield, forcing the Crone to focus on him.

“Coward,” Hoskia shouted.

Loch couldn’t see him, but could feel the elf rushing his way.

Swinging Onyx against the Crone’s shields, Loch resisted the urge to escape. Not yet. He saw the bright white light of a spear coming for the Crone’s back. The old elf woman could feel it. She started to turn but another swing by Onyx forced her to focus back on Loch. She never saw the spear.

Loch Activated Windstep just as the tip burst through the Crone’s chest.

He appeared next to Loric. The surprised Ghostweaver managed to get his staff up in time to stop the swing of Onyx. An easy swing, not with Loch’s full strength, just meant to distract the elf. The end of the staff started to glow, Loric’s fine features edged in anger. He turned, some sense warning him. But not in time.

Randy’s fist slammed into Loric’s face, staggering the elf.

“Fight me coward!,” Hoskia yelled.

Loch Activated Windstep.

He appeared behind one of the Silver Bark Midwardens. The elf was pressing one of the twins hard. Loch swung Onyx, slicing deep into the Midwarden’s side. The elf fell forward, right into the twin’s spear.

“Thanks boss,” the twin said, Loch wasn’t sure which one it was.

Loch nodded and used Windstep again.

He pushed the Ability as much as he could, using it as often as he could, pushing the cooldown, the range and everything else about it. Loch moved around the battlefield, assisting his people. He didn’t kill anyone, but each appearance and single attack was pivotal. They were distractions, letting his people get the advantage or even the killing blow. As Loch stepped from fight to fight, the stalemate ended, Clan Brady coming out on top.

Hoskia Silver Bark stopped giving chase. He stood in the middle, surrounded by smaller battles all around. Anger flared in the elven leader. His eyes tracked Loch even with the speed of Windstep. He turned, following Loch as he went from fight to fight.

Finally, Loch came to a stop. He stood twenty feet from Hoskia, Onyx hanging by his side. Loch was breathing heavy as he faced Hoskia, who looked to have healed from his wounds and not winded at all.

“That was foolish Lochlan Brady,” Hoskia said, pointing one of his swords at Loch. “You already could not defeat me and that waste of time used up more of your Spirit reserves. There was no point to it.”

“Sure there was,” Loch said, standing a little straighter. He smiled.

Hoskia twisted, sensing the attack as two inkblack cats jumped toward him. He slashed with both swords, cutting through the inksummons. Drops of black liquid fell to the ground as the cats dissipated. Hoskia ducked at a shining spear just missed his shoulder. It struck in the ground before disappearing. A sword swung, blocked an arrow, knocking it to the side. He turned back to glare at Loch, eyes filled with hate.

“Coward. You are afraid to face me by yourself,” he accused.

Loch shrugged.

“No, but why should I?”

“Your honor demands it,” Hoskia growled, twisting to avoid another arrow. “To rely on others is to show weakness.”

“No, your honor demands it,” Loch said, taking a step forward. “Not mine. I am strong and powerful but it’s not to use that power for myself.” He took another step forward as Hoskia defended against spear thrusts, arrows, blasts of silver energy and more inksummons. “I thought the power was to be used to protect my people but it’s not. It’s to be used to support them. I can be the difference maker but I am not alone. I am the leader but I am also a soldier and soldiers are never alone. I am the Warbreaker.”

Loch shouted the last like a warcry, throwing Onyx. The axe spun end over end, crackling with energy. It slammed into Hoskia’s shoulder, cutting through armor, drawing blood. The weapon disappeared, back in Loch’s hand as he crossed the last couple of feet. Growing to full size, Loch swung the weapon with Cleave Activated.

Hoskia held a sword up, trying to block the downward swing. Onyx met the metal of the sword, energy flaring, bolts crackling. Somehow the sword held, even against the strength of Loch and Cleave. The sword held, but Hoskia’s arm did not. The snap of bone was heard over the sounds of battle. Hoskia dropped the sword, Loch stomping on the blade to prevent the elf from trying to pick it up.

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The elf rolled back, grunting in pain as his broken arm slammed into the ground. He stood up, a little unsteady, holding his single blade toward Loch. Walking backwards, Hoskia stopped, turning around to see the giant form of Jarl standing a few feet away. The giant horse reared up, kicking at the air.

Hoskia turned the other direction but stopped as the glowing tip of a spear barred his way. Kelly stood there, Piper just behind. Loch’s youngest held her wand in hand, pointed at Hoskia. Just behind her sat a large inkcat.

Turning the last direction, Hoskia saw Elora and Randy. The elves' eyes got a little wild as he realized what the other’s presence meant. The Crone and Loric Greenspire were dead.

“You are a coward,” he said, moving to stand in the middle, pointing his last sword at Loch. His left arm hung useless. “Is this how you show your strength?” He moved the tip of the sword, pointing at the others surrounding him. “Do you need others to fight your battles?”

Loch didn’t say anything, just took a step closer.

Hoskia faced Loch, but his eyes shifted from Kelly and Piper to Elora and Randy. He knew Jarl was behind him, but didn’t turn. Loch could tell the horse’s presence bothered the elf. He was no longer calm, but twitchy, like he could feel Jarl’s breath against his back.

“You will anger the Connection,” Hoskia growled.

“I don’t care,” Loch replied, taking another step forward.

The ground shook as Jarl’s hooves slammed down. Only Hoskia stumbled. The inkcat opened its mouth in a silent roar, padding closer, moving slowly around Hoskia in a circle. The elf stabbed out with the sword, missing the cat. He turned to glare at Elora.

“Betrayer! Oathbreaker,” he growled. “You turned your back on your people and your ancestors.”

“There was a better way,” Elora replied, not even bothering to raise her weapon. “And I took it.”

Hoskia looked like he wanted to lunge at her. Elora didn’t even flinch.

“This is not how things are done,” Hoskia yelled. “In the Connected System, the strength of the individual is all that matters.”

“I don’t care,” Loch said, taking another step forward. He Activated Precision Strike, seeing more yellow dots appearing over Hoskia’s body. “We don’t care. The Connection may create the rules, it may give us our Abilities and control almost everything.” Lock sent Spirit flowing into Onyx, the axehead crackling with energy. “But it does not rule us.”

Loch Activated Cleave, swinging Onyx down. Hoskia raised his sword, blocking the axe. Kicking out, Loch caught the elf in the knee. A glancing blow that made Hoskia stumble. Onyx came down again, the sword barely catching it in time. Loch pushed, his strength driving Onyx down, closer to Hoskia’s face. Fear filled the elf’s eyes. They flashed briefly. He Activated an Ability.

Loch felt a wave of force slam into him, pushing him back. He didn’t stumble, able to keep his balance. It hurt, just from the pressure wave, but no additional damage. A repulsion Ability. It had to have a high Spirit cost, or long cooldown, as Hoskia didn’t look happy about using it.

Gone was any arrogance, the elf glaring at Loch with hate and a little worry. He glanced around the battlefield, the sounds of fighting had grown quieter. There were still some small fights but most had ended. Those would soon be finished as more of Clan Brady were able to assist the others. His eyes lowered in anger as he saw some of his Silver Bark had surrendered, only a handful of Clan Brady standing guard, including those horses. A single man sat on top of one, holding a strange looking device in his hand, aimed at the prisoners.

Those Silver Bark looked on, watching Hoskia. There was no anger in their eyes at the dishonor being shown him. There was no fear. There was just resignation. Some even showed relief. None made a move to help him.

Of course they wouldn’t. That wasn’t how the Silver Bark were taught.

“I will kill you,” Hoskia said, glaring at Loch.

Loch swung Onyx, the sword coming up to block. Bulwark swung, spikes leading. Hoskia tried to twist to the side, but couldn’t, Loch’s leg catching the elfs. Loch pulled his leg, Hoskia falling to the ground. Onyx followed, the sword barely blocking as Hoskia rolled away. He jumped up ten feet away from Loch, falling again as the thrown and shrunken Onyx cut deep into his leg.

Grimacing in pain, but not crying out, Hoskia reached for the axe, wanting to take Loch’s weapon from him. It disappeared. He turned to face Loch, seeing the axe in the man’s hand, growing to full size.

“There is no honor in this,” Hoskia said. “If you kill me, it will have been with help. You did not do it alone.”

Loch lowered Onyx, not stepping forward. He shook his head sadly.

“I don’t care about honor. I care about my people and my family. Whatever it takes to keep them safe.”

“You are a fool.”

Loch shrugged.

Hoskia sneered, about to say something but stopped. The smile disappeared as he felt a presence behind him. Turning, Hoskia saw the large head of the inkcat. It was detailed, all parts of the head visible. Ears that twitched, long whiskers. It was all one dark black color, but the eyes were visible, glaring hungrily down at the elf. The wind pushed at the fur across its back.

Trying to ignore the cat, Hoskia turned back to Loch.

“Face me,” he shouted. “You have already shown yourself to be a coward. You have a chance to redeem yourself.”

“Redeem myself?,” Loch laughed. He shook his head sadly. “I feel bad for you.”

He turned away from the elf.

“Your wife will die. Your children will die. You will watch them be…”

Hoskia fell silent, the shrunken down Onyx embedded in his chest.