Hump’s heart pounded in his chest, unable to tear his gaze away. His skin tingled as the air thrummed with a power so immense he couldn’t tear his eyes away.
The exchange was fast and explosive. Karlac unleashed a storm of spells, fire erupting from his fingertips, arcs of hellish energy surging forward. Aldric met them with an unyielding wall of water. The liquid danced in the air, shimmering with the intensity of his essence. Before Hump could figure out the attack, Aldric’s voice filled the room and spears of water streaked at Karlac, each one as sharp as a dagger.
Karlac countered with blasts of molten fire, the two forces colliding in midair with a thunderous boom. Mist and smoke obscured the room, the silhouette of Karlac visible on the other side as he gathered more fire to him. Rain poured from Aldric’s domain, silver streaks piercing through the room like needles. Each combatant unleashed a flurry of blows, clashing with the speed and power of titans, neither wasting a moment, their magic wielded as naturally as breathing. Karlac—the embodiment of rage and destruction, while Aldric was calm, his movements measured, his magic the exact amount necessary to keep the demon’s attacks at bay. No matter how ferociously Karlac attacked, Aldric’s magic met him blow for blow.
A deep growl rumbled through the room as Karlac called forth more strength, his hungry intent a visceral thing. His previously smouldering eye blazed like the sun. His skin blackened, veins glowing as rivers of molten lava beneath cracked volcanic rock. His sword ignited, wreathed in roaring flame. The air around him shimmered with heat, shadow rising around it like smoke, reality itself warping from his strength.
Then came the Hellfire. Not just living flame, but something more. It formed an orb before Karlac, seething with shadow and flame, a miniature sun of destruction. Hump felt its hunger. The raw desire to consume everything in its path. The ground beneath it cracked, and air was pulled toward it, creating a vortex of swirling essence and debris. The orb surged and an ear-splitting screech erupted from it as if the fabric of the world itself was straining beneath the force of the battle.
Aldric slammed his cane against the earth, the sound reverberating through the chamber like the toll of a great bell. A pulse of silver light burst from his staff, rippling out in a shockwave. The wizard’s responded, the silver water on the ceiling quivering violently. It erupted from every surface, from every corner of the room, until rain stormed into the fire from all directions.
Silver and orange flame collided. The rain poured relentlessly, hissing and steaming as it met the all-consuming inferno. For a moment, the two forces were locked in a deadly battle, two forces of nature refusing to give an inch.
Then Karlac roared. His voice was the breaking of mountains. Essence surged, and the orb of fire exploded with a great boom. Steam erupted in a blinding cloud. The roof above them crumbled, and cracks spiderwebbed through the walls. The floor of the room between them crumbled further, the pit of fire beneath Karlac’s throne room expanding, only to be quenched by Wizard Aldric’s rain, turning molten rock to obsidian.
The mist shook, a second explosion roaring as it surged toward Hump and the others. Hump flinched, raising his arm to protect his face from the expected heat, but there was no need.
“Shield of Storms!” Aldric’s voice boomed, his staff raised high. A dome of shimmering water formed around him, the rain weaving itself into a barrier of pure silver essence. The explosion from Karlac’s blast washed over it like a tidal wave, disappearing into the black abyss behind them.
Hump’s gaze roamed the magnificent dome, a swirling maelstrom of water and essence. It spiralled around them, wisps of silver swimming within.
“Go!” Wizard Aldric commanded. The mist around him churned, the water above rippled with the weight of his words. Lightning crackled within the dome, flashes of silver streaking through the swirling rain.
Celaine’s hand gripped Hump’s arm, yanking him toward the exit. His heart raced as they fled the collapsing room, Aldric backing up the stairs behind him, not relinquishing his magic as they retreated.
“I shall hunt you, Wizard Humphrey,” Karlac roared. “I shall be in every shadow. I shall stalk you to the end of the world and back. There is nowhere safe from me!”
“Well, that sounds delightful,” Hump muttered. “Don’t blame me if you don’t like what you see.”
There was no path through the abyss. Darkness was everywhere, but for a window into the Infernal Halls far ahead of them. Hump clutched one of Nisha’s horns in one hand, and Celaine’s hand in the other, then jumped. Immediately, Hump felt like he was falling. His stomach churned, but the Infernal Halls were getting closer.
Hump cast one last look back as Karlac’s sword carved through the air, and with it, a behemoth of shadow burst from his feet, far beyond the demon in size but echoing his movement. A swarm of silver serpents erupted from Aldric’s shield and the domain of rain around him, diving into the shallow water at Aldric’s feet and shooting forward until they sank their fangs into the shadow. Their bodies blackened, a haze of shadow coming over them as they drained the shadow of strength.
“White Lightning,” Aldric barked. Lightning crackled in the mist of his Soul Manifestation, gathering in blinding streaks of white and blue light to the wizard’s cane with a blinding intensity. Its focus shone silver. The air thundered, a screeching sound building before it was set free in furious chains of power. Stone crashed down from the ceiling, dust and essence filling the chamber until Hump couldn’t see Karlac at all.
Hump stumbled as they emerged from the abyss, black spots dancing in his vision. The harsh reality of the Infernal Halls crashed down on him as he spilled out onto the blood-soaked stone. The overwhelming stench of rot, fire, and death assaulted his senses, making him gag. His ears rang with the cacophony of war—shouts, screams, the clash of steel, and the inhuman roars of demons. They had gone from one battlefield to the next.
Hump’s eyes adjusted and he took in the chaotic scene. What had once been the demonic marketplace was now unrecognisable, reduced to a smoking ruin. The stalls were nothing more than shattered wood and twisted metal. Wherever the prisoners they had rescued might be, he could not tell. Demons tore through the remnants, locked in vicious combat with Chosen, practitioners, and ordinary soldiers. Bodies lay strewn across the battlefield, and fires crackled in the distance.
Nisha stumbled to her feet and leant against Hump, alert and ready to fight. Celaine pushed herself up beside them.
“Hump! Celaine! You’re back,” a voice cut through the noise, urgent and breathless. “Where is Aldric?”
Hump looked up to see Marcela standing nearby. Her squad was with her, formed up in tight ranks and working to hold the demons back. It took a moment to realise that it was him and Celaine they were guarding.
“He’s…” Hump turned around, but all he could see was a thick curtain of darkness, clinging to the side of a large building. His brow furrowed with confusion. “He was right behind us.”
“Should we go back?” Celaine asked. “He did save us.”
Hump hesitated, the weight of the decision heavy on his shoulders. Wizard Aldric hadn’t saved them—he’d saved the book.
“He did,” Hump said, frowning deeply. Could they just abandon him? More importantly, was there anything they could do to help? Perhaps if Marcela’s entire squad went with them, they could fight off Karlac, but how many more would be slain in his stead? Wizard Aldric was a member of the Three Eyes—a wizard of the seventh rank. Perhaps the best thing they could do was trust in him.
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Before he could decide, Aldric came hurtling out of the darkness, crashing violently to the ground. “Destroy it!” he shouted. “Destroy it, Marcela!”
Marcela whirled around, blade slicing through the air and carving apart an artifact Hump had not notice before—two stones, one on either side of the curtain, holding it open with solidified essence. In two strokes, she carved them both in two, the stones dropping to the ground. The black curtain closed.
Wizard Aldric groaned, struggling to rise as his trembling hands fumbled through the folds of his robes. Angry, throbbing veins bulged across his neck, glowing with a sickly blue light, as if something poisonous had taken root in his blood.
Hump scrambled over to the man, but Aldric shook him off. He took out his flask and drank deeply, his eyes rolling with relief as the veins in his neck slowly receded.
“What are you standing there for, fool?” Aldric rasped. “There’s still a battle to be won.”
That’s when Hump’s mind went to his party. He grabbed his staff and forced himself to his feet. “Marcela, where’s Bud?”
“He was over…” She trailed off as her eyes found something.
Hump followed them, spotting the knight amidst a crowd of demons. Much of his armour had been torn off. A jagged wound ran down one side of his face, splitting his eye. Blood dripped from an arm that hung limp at one side while he heaved his sword around in the other, Frostfire roaring.
A hot surge of anger and fury ignited in Hump’s chest. Killing intent rose from Celaine at his side, turning the air sharp as a knife.
#
Slash. Parry. Stab. Bud’s world had shrunk to nothing but the fight—each movement, each strike a rhythm that pulsed through his muscles without thought. His body operated on pure instinct, every action ingrained in him through countless hours of training. Where there was a demon, he killed. Where a blade came too close, it was blocked. As long as he kept moving, he wouldn’t fall.
Cold agony tore through his side. His vision blurred momentarily as pain flared, sharp and biting. He snarled, swinging his sword in a savage arc, cleaving the arm off an imp that had driven a dagger into him. The creature squealed, crumpling to the ground. Without pausing, Bud crushed its skull beneath his boot, the crack of bone echoing as shards of bloody ice crystalised beneath his foot. Bud searched for his next foe.
The demons kept coming. They swarmed from every corner, emerging from buildings like rats from nests, spilling from the shadows of alleyways, even dropping from the skies like a swarm of insects. There seemed to be no end to them. Yet Bud felt their desperation in the way they charged, reckless and wild, as though their existence hung by a thread. He met their desperation with his own.
Searing heat erupted nearby as a blast of fire sent a group of demons hurtling through the air. Water crashed into another cluster, sweeping them away. An arrow whizzed past his ear, embedding itself into the skull of a demon he was about to strike, the creature dropping dead at his feet.
For a brief moment, the killing paused. Bud’s heart pounded in his chest, the beat of battle pulsing through him. His sword was ready. He was poised, a blade ready to strike. His grip tightened on his sword, the weapon heavy in his bloody hand.
Bud heard a voice. Instinct took over. He whirled around, sword arcing through the air, a battle cry ripping from his throat. But just as the blade was about to connect, he stopped—mere inches from Hump’s face.
“Bud, it’s me!” Hump stared nervously at the sword, though his voice was steady.
Bud’s breath came in ragged gasps, adrenaline coursing through him. Slowly, he lowered his sword, his arm shaking from the effort. Exhaustion hit him all at once, like a heavy cloak settling over his shoulders. The world came crashing back, and with it, the pain that had dulled in the heat of battle. He looked around to see Marcela’s squad and the Blackthorne Company reinforcing. He looked down as Nisha brushed up against him, whining softly.
“Aldric?” Bud asked.
“He got us back.”
Bud nodded. “I almost chopped your arm off.”
Hump let out a strained chuckle. “You wouldn’t be the first. Take a breather, my friend. We’ll handle things from here.”
Bud’s gaze drifted to Emilia, lying motionless on the ground nearby. Panic flared in his chest. “Is she…?” he began, his voice breaking.
“She’s alive,” Dylan said. “Don’t worry, Bud. Emilia will be fine.” Then Dylan shouted, “We need a healer!”
“Ursil, help them.” Bud turned to see Wizard Aldric nearby.
Bud felt a hand clasp his shoulder and he started to resist. Hump looked up at him, stilling his instinct to keep fighting. “Sit down, Bud. Rest. I’ll be back soon.”
Nodding, Bud did as he was told. He half fell to the ground as he sat, his body suddenly feeling heavy. His eyes went to Emilia’s unconscious face beside him. He stroked back the hair stuck to her forehead with blood, holding back tears as he took her in. She looked so pale. When the healer arrived, she ignored Emilia and tried to inspect Bud’s side. Bud pushed her off, irritated.
“Not me. It’s Emilia that needs help.”
Dylan was there then, taking Bud by the arm and gently lowering it. “Relax, Bud. Emilia is stable,” the druid said softly. “Let Healer Ursil work on you now, alright?”
Bud blinked in confusion. “On me?” His mind was still on the fight, on Emilia. A little rest and he could keep going.
“There’s no need,” Hump said to the healer.
“These injuries are serious,” Ursil said. “He needs to be checked on.”
“I’ll take care of him,” Hump said. He held out his staff, and Bud’s eyes lingered on the Silver Sprig dangling from the end, shining with essence.
Only then did he feel the icy numbness creeping through his body. The sharp pain from before was fading. Slowly, he looked down. Blood—his own blood—was pooling around him in thick, dark streams.
“That’s… a lot of blood,” he whispered, voice faint.
His vision started to fade.
Two of the leaves on the Silver Sprig started to glisten, essence shining from them in beautiful streaks like gazing up at the sun through trees. Bud squinted as their warmth and nourishment poured over him like he’d never felt. Strangely, his mind went to his mother and her smiling face as she held him in her arms as a boy, the silver light shining behind her head. The light faded as one of the leaves was drained of its essence, the vision fading with it. The pain was gone now, replaced by an ache in his side. Moments later, that too was gone, the second leaf losing its lustre.
“How do you feel?” Hump asked.
“Better,” Bud said. “A little cold still.”
“You lost a lot of blood,” Hump said. “I’m not sure this thing replenishes it.”
“It’s enough,” Bud said. He tested his strength, rising to his feet. His body felt his own again, if exhausted.
Cheers erupted around Bud. At first, he thought it was for him. But as the darkness at the edge of his vision disappeared, and the pain rescinded, he looked around to see people celebrating as they looked at the sky. Turning his eyes up, the red sky of the dungeon was dissipating into glittering shards of essence, revealing darkness beyond.
Bud grinned. The core was vanquished.
“What did you do?” Healer Ursil said. Bud turned to the woman. She alone was staring at Hump in shock—no, she was staring at the artifact. “What is that?”
“A healing artifact,” Hump said as he made his way over to Emilia’s side. “And one I’d rather you didn’t tell anyone about. Unfortunately, we’re in a hurry and I need my party.”
“What’s happened?” Bud asked, the sense of victory leaving him.
“No time,” Hump said. “Get Celaine and Marcela. Make sure they don’t stray far. I’ll be with you when I’m done.”
With that, Hump held the Silver Sprig over Emilia, this time just one of the leaves glowed. Bud drew in a deep breath gazing over the celebrating soldiers and suddenly feeling apart from them—the day wasn’t quite over after all.
#
Hump leant heavily against his staff, resting his aching head. He’d mended his broken arm, fixed up Celaine’s face, and finished healing the stab wound to Emilia stomach. All in all, it had used up every bit of essence he’d poured into the Silver Sprig, and while he and his party members weren’t a hundred percent, they were on their feet again. He stretched out the fingers of his left hand—they were stiff and sore, far from the perfect healing he’d expected of the artifact. There was still a slight scar on Celaine’s face too. Was there something wrong with it? It didn’t seem as potent as before. He wondered if its effect was weakening outside of the essence-rich environment on Drakalyn—something he would need to figure out later.
“It’s over,” Marcela said as she walked over, gesturing at the sky with both arms. She had a wide smile on her face. “We won. Why do you look so defeated?”
Above, the sky disintegrated. An entire world was fading away like it was nothing, revealing only the darkness beyond. All of this would be gone soon now that the dungeon core had been claimed.
Yet it didn’t feel like victory. Hump’s mind turned to the windows into Alveron that Karlac had shown him. If there was any doubt that they were real, it was gone now. Seeing Emilia’s wound and the others fighting to save her was enough to leave him convinced to take what he had seen seriously. Assuming they were true, the warlocks must have travelled from here to Alveron somehow.
“It’s not over yet,” Hump said. “We need to get to General Korteg, Marcela.”
“What has happened?” she asked.
“I’d really like to know that too,” Bud said.
Hump saw the moment of elation was replaced with worry in her eyes, and it made his stomach sink. He didn’t want to say it.
Before he could spit the words out, Aldric did the job for him, “This was a trap. Alveron has been invaded. We must go to the core chamber now. Gather your squad.”