Barely. I only barely move out of the way before the Viisin tears through the space I stood hardly a moment ago. The little flame that breaches its coating of dust disappears. Painfully. It’s like the gaze of the Forvaal, only at a far greater intensity. I can’t let it touch me.

It throws itself toward me, and I don’t even attempt to compete. A jet of flame rockets me out of reach. The Viisin doesn’t let me open the distance though, springing after me as soon as its claws find nothing but empty air.

I jerk to the side, barely dodging the decaying creature. It is too fast for me, there’s no escape. I’ll have to fight it. My flames do nothing to it though, and it hurts every time the Viisin removes them from existence. The only chance is to kill it with my spear. There’s no other way to deal with it.

It leaps for me again, but instead of running away, I stop. With a tight grip, I thrust into the creature’s trajectory. My aim is perfect. The sharp blade thrusting directly into the featureless head of dust.

For a brief moment, I think I’ve won. It hurts a bit, but I cover the blade in physical flame to stop the decay. Half my spear’s length lodges within the head of the Viisin.

Then, my arm disappears.

Agony hits as the Viisin brushes past me. I push away before it can do any more damage. I’ve lost limbs before, but it is always so horribly painful. My remaining arm lifts my spear in some form of self-defence, but my eyes fall on the missing blade, along with most of the shaft.

Did I even hit the creature? Or did my weapon melt away before it could touch it?

The remaining pole clatters along the ground, discarded in frustration. It will do me no good now. The only thing I have is my flame. I pull it in on myself, concentrating the swirl of fire entirely on my immediate surroundings. My fire can’t breach its decay, but maybe the heat alone will be enough.

As soon as I do so, swarms of mermineae rush our defensive lines. I follow the countless creatures as they cross the burnt landscape. They were waiting for me to stop. I want to spread the flames once more, but I can’t afford to lose focus.

With no way to defend myself against this nightmare of a creature, I’m back to sinking all my energy into each dodge. It’s exhausting to move around like this. Barely am I keeping out of its claws, but this can’t keep up.

The Viisin takes on a more controlled offence. No longer launching itself through the air toward me, instead keeping its feet. I don’t have to deal with the explosive movement, but it is far harder to dodge now that it can switch directions in an instant.

Grímr’s large form enters my range, and I do my utmost not to look toward him. The Viisin dashes for me, but its head inclines upward. I panic. It knows Grímr is coming.

I direct the swirling twister of fire down on the Viisin, compressing the flame and increasing the heat as far as they’ll go. Frustratingly, my inner wall blocks the flame growing any more intense. It isn’t enough to even hurt the creature.

Grímr’s talons lash out as he swoops past, but so too does the Viisin. His metal claws disintegrate on touch and the Viisin swings an arm, obliterating a wing and leaving deep gouges in the alicanto’s chest. Grímr gasps, his voice reverting to a metallic grating.

Momentum carries Grímr away from us. He slams into the earth, and dirt explodes into the air as he rolls dozens of metres.

I can’t tear my eyes away as the alicanto skids to a stop. He doesn’t move. I want to do nothing more than rush over to Grímr and check on him, but I can’t. Even if the Viisin goes after Grímr right now, there’s nothing I can do. I hate abandoning him here, but I need to give the Viisin a reason to keep chasing me and leave its already downed opponent.

I flare my flames, not toward the Viisin, but the mermineae rushing our defences. The best I can do is to burn through as many of them as I keep out of range of the Viisin’s touch.

My chest aches. Why is it only after I’ve escaped the knot that told me to abandon him, I actually do so? The world is cruel.

Without my spear, I have to rely on my body to deal with the Forvaal. Claws grow on my one remaining hand while the other regrows. I tear forward, burning each mermineae and clawing at any that doesn’t incinerate. It’s not all that effective, but I can feel the Viisin chasing me, so I can hope Grímr is fine.

I last a long time doing this. So long, that my arm almost fully regrows… though I’m not sure how long that actually is. It feels like hours, but probably no more than minutes.

Of course, my luck doesn’t last.

The Viisin tears forward once more, and I’m simply not fast enough to dodge completely. A scratch to my chest is all it takes to put an end to my run. I stumble and collapse. I hit the earth and what little remains of my clothing tears. The canteen of oil clatters beside me.

A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.

I’m exhausted. I don’t think I have the energy to run, even if I’m not missing a chunk of my chest. The Viisin is annoyed. Not that I can see its face through the mask of dust, but it stomps toward me with clear agitation. I take some pleasure in knowing I’ve upset it, even if it’s only a small feeling amongst the anger and frustration of my own.

What can I even do? Nothing I throw at the Viisin hurts it, nor can I run. I don’t want to give up, and I won’t, but no ideas come to mind. My flames curl up around me, as hot and dense as they will reach. I don’t have the energy for physical flames anymore, having used it almost nonstop since the fight with the Viisin started.

I reach for the bottle of oil, hoping the temporary boost in energy will be enough to recover. Maybe let me run for another few seconds.

My clawed fingers wrap around the neck of the canteen, the long since peeled paint lumpy in my hand. I reach my other hand to take off the cap, before I realise I don’t have it. Instead, I melt the cap off and immediately bring the sweet juice to my mouth before it can explode.

I’d rather drink this nectar directly if it’s going to be the last thing I drink.

The taste is amazing. Better than I remember. The pain of my missing arm and leg disappears to the heat that floods my body. My flames press on me, hiding the intensity within me where I don’t have to share. My entirety feels hot, excruciatingly so, but it also feels wonderful.

I forget about the world outside myself. I do, until the Viisin is above me, reaching down to end me. My arm lashes out, striking through the dust ridden limb before it can touch me. Pain flares through me, but not nearly as bad as before.

The Viisin still stands above me, but its arm is gone.

The creature seems as shocked as me. It looks down at its arm as it regrows before my eyes. My own arm is quite the sight; bright, pure white flame takes the place of my normal flame.

I strike out again before the Viisin can, taking its head and scramble backward.

My fingers are now gone, but my hand remains despite going through the Viisin’s head. I shakily rise to my feet. While the pain in my arm and chest are gone, they haven’t regrown. Neither has my energy increased after drinking the oil.

I finally realise what’s happened; the heat of the oil pushed me past my barriers. The flame of my body compresses far greater than before, as does my heat.

I’m still exhausted and temporarily crippled, but I now have a fighting chance.

My flames rush toward the Viisin, but they immediately revert to yellow and fail to even singe the Viisin as its head regrows. Why? Don’t tell me it’s not permanent. The heat rushing through my chest tells otherwise, as does the steady white the flames making my body. Why can’t I apply this to my inner flame?

A guttural growl escapes the Viisin as it takes a step toward me, its head regrowing with frightening speed. The dust billowing off the creature clouds my vision, but I can still see the thousands of mermineae falling as they rush toward our defences without hesitance.

Our line is holding up far better than I expected considering the number and desperation of mermineae. With the Viisin held here with me, we’re actually holding them off.

The smirk rises to my lips before I even realise, gloating to the Viisin. This battle isn’t over. I’m at the end of my rope, but I can hurt it now. There is a way and I’m not about to roll over until I’ve burnt this creature with all I have.

The Viisin hisses at me, the gravelly voice hiding none of its fury.

My flames can burn away its body before the decay can melt away my fire, but I have nowhere near the recovery speed it has. So if I’m to do this, I need to get all of it in one go. If I leave any of its body to recover from, I can’t imagine success being possible.

As the Viisin prepares to throw itself at me again, a tremor shakes the earth beneath our feet. Amongst the constant peppering of artillery shells exploding, a louder blast booms over the battlefield.

The Viisin stops, along with every other creature on the battlefield, and turns toward the origin of the heavy quake. I can’t stop myself from doing the same. The presence that floods over the battle is impossible to ignore. The claws of a monster dig into my chest and prevent movement.

The presence exceeds anything I’ve felt before. Stronger than even Spenne’s. Like what I would imagine a Titan’s presence would feel like.

It is familiar.

It is hostile.

Beyond the furthest mermineae is a being I would recognise anywhere. It rises to its full height, towering over everything on the battlefield, easily visible despite the distance.

The Viisin snaps out of its daze and gives me a single glance before it throws itself into the army behind me, cutting through rather than fighting. The rest of the mermineae follow suit a moment later, rushing toward our defences in a hysterical panic. They are not fortunate enough to escape the giant ursu.

Hund.

The massive warrior lifts his towering blade and bounds forward. Between his massive heft and the extended blade, hundreds of mermineae vaporise in an instant. In the wake of his movement, a shockwave rocks thousands of others, followed by a barrage of shrapnel.

Hund only takes a few moments to crush the swarm of mermineae. Even the Forvaal fall like children to the incomprehensibly strong ursu. He doesn’t waste time, nor does he enjoy the battle, simply cleaning up the battlefield as if it were a chore.

I’d seen it before. Felt his presence before. But I never truly understood the depth of his strength. I’m not sure if I do even now.

Soon, he is done. No mermineae remain. His gaze falls on me and I feel just as much a child as I first did under his attention. He takes a step toward me before halting, a perplexed expression crossing his face.

He recognises me. I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not.

I suppress the instinctual fear that overcomes me in his presence. Choke it down. I promised myself I would thank him the next time we met. Considering he’s saved me again just increases the need to do so.

Gathering my courage, I take a step toward the giant four times my height. Hund remains still, but his eyes narrow. Instead of letting me approach, his face becomes resolute and… wistful. Hund turns away from me and walks back the way he came.

I stop my approach. Does he not want to talk to me? Was I wrong that he’d helped me out of kindness back then?

Far beyond him, I notice movement. At first I think there must still be mermineae not yet dealt with, but as I focus, I see an army of ursu push across the land, trailing in Hund’s wake.

They’ve come to help? Did the mermineae already try to push into New Vetus? What has happened to the Zadok Kingdom?

Well, that’s all irrelevant. With Hund on our side, there’s no chance we could lose.