The Greymouth Moth. One of the few creatures adapted to the harsh climate of Jorgansol. Legends had grown to paint them as fortune-tellers or, more accurately, misfortune-tellers. They would land on the blades of grass surrounding a soon-to-be battlefield, waiting for the blood of someone that would be lost in the conflict.

One such Greymouth meandered through the rolling winds, its powdered wings dusting the grass below before it came to land on a dried-out seed head. It subtly landed between Mikey and Adendé - the two of them in a standoff.

Adendé had his fists tightly balled, each of his knuckles cracking under the padding of his gloves. He glared menacingly at the boy that opposed him, a brief spark surging around the bronze lining his apparel.

Meanwhile, Mikey sat firmly atop Bat; the spirit’s twisting staff in one hand and his shortsword in the other. An arrogant exhale escaped Mikey’s mouth with the twitch of a smirk appearing as he inched forward - ready to launch.

The lone Greymouth’s wings waved in the wind, the air gently nudging for it to take flight. The moment its wings fluttered, Mikey’s smirk erupted into a grin.

“Hya!” he roared, kicking his heels into Bat as the two went sprinting towards Adendé. Mikey lowered the head of his staff, allowing it to brush through the tips of the grass.

Slamming his foot on the ground, Adendé lowered himself and spread his arms - he was steadfast, readying for a standing tackle on not only Mikey but seemingly Bat as well. Electricity flared between his hands like they were pylons, creating neon chained netting between his fingers.

Mikey’s violet eyes dilated heavily, the glow emitted from his thinning iris only growing more intense. Cocking his arm back, he swung his staff straight into the ground. As if awakening a den of snakes beneath the weeds, wisteria roots burst from below and weaved in and out of the soil; hundreds of them viciously toiling toward Adendé.

Adendé released the accumulated charge between his hands and dove to the side, the wisteria roots barely clipping his boots. Rolling into a crouch, he immediately took off alongside the upturned dirt towards Mikey.

Mikey, riding on the other side of the roots' trail, readied his sword for a swing, leaning over to reach out to Adendé.

Once in range, Bat pounced over the trail and directly for Adendé - his jaws spread wide. Mikey readied a swing, expecting Adendé to evade or roll out of the way. Instead, Bat came to a sudden stop.

Catching him by his upper and lower jaws, Adendé's fingers pulled tightly apart to keep Bat from not only closing his jaws but also, pushing Adendé to the ground. His grip tightened, which forced a series of cracks from Bat’s teeth - slowly shattering under the pressure.

Jumping over Adendé, with a step off Bat's head, Mikey landed swiftly on the ground behind him. Mikey swung his short-sword high as he turned to face him, the blade moving for Adendé's left ear. Glancing at it, Adendé ducked and dragged Bat into the path of the sword.

Squeal!

The bladed tip sliced straight through the eye of the warg, slashing open the flesh around his eye socket and undoubtedly blinding Bat’s right eye.

Adendé used the moment of disorientation to thrust kick Mikey in the gut, sending him barrelling off into the grass. Following the kick, Adendé summoned forth a blistering surge of electricity from both of his hands - electrocuting Bat through the high voltage streaming from his teeth.

A burning scent lingered off of Bat’s charred skin with much of the hairs being burnt from his thick coat. Adendé snapped one of the canine’s fangs off as it fell to the ground, flipping it in the air before turning and throwing it behind him.

Like a soaring arrowhead, the fang shot off towards Mikey, who had already got back up on his feet, and pierced through the cartilage on his ear.

“You cannot fathom his potential Adendé. The boy is something else - something more!” Mikey spoke out, though Adendé recognised them as the spirit’s words. Mikey, by now, had extended both of his hands out towards the bronze giant. With open palms, his violet eyes very briefly flickered white.

“Charge!” he ordered as an enormous orb of magical energy formed before his palms. A cold whirlwind flurried around Mikey, as Adendé instantly made his move.

Propelling himself forward with an enormous first step, the masked behemoth instantly burst into a desperate sprint. Every footstep was heavy with urgency, his eyes locked onto the rapidly condensing object of magical energy.

Mikey managed a chuckle, amused by the danger his attack posed to the apparently unstoppable Adendé.

The hum of concentrating power quickly elevated in pitch, raising at the same rate as Adendé’s rapidly increasing pace. Fifteen metres. Twelve metres. Six metres.

“Release!” he chanted as his gaze widened with glee.

Zzzeeeeooop!

The compression of the orb this time was much more efficient, shrinking it down to the size of a tiny marble. It shook violently with anticipation. Two metres.

BWOOOVVV!

The marble warped into a minuscule teardrop and blasted forth from Mikey’s hands. Realising he wouldn’t make it in time, Adendé lowered his hands to his gut and caught the high-velocity projectile with his bare hands. Bolting into his left palm, Adendé used his right hand to cushion the other from behind. He leaned over it and dug his feet into the ground, but failed to keep the projectile from its path.

Sent unavoidably sliding back, carried by the orb’s sheer power, Adendé only slowed it down for mere moments. When he lost his footing, it was over.

Spiraling off into the distance, his feet flailing after him, he soon disappeared from sight.

BOOOOOOM!

The ground began to violently rumble, the shockwave of the blast immediately tearing up the ground around it. The inevitability of the shockwave reaching him prompted Mikey to stab his staff into the ground, summoning forth domes of woven wisteria roots from the soil. The domes formed over not only Mikey and Buggro, but also the unconscious Bat who lay on the floor.

“Arrogant swine,” Mikey chuckled as his barrier formed, the onslaught of his attack’s shockwave stampeding towards them.

The dome shook violently, but the tensile strength of the roots seemed to hold well despite the various thuds and bangs against it. Eventually, however, the gale was reduced to a whistle and upon opening the domes the entire landscape had changed.

Mikey twirled in wondrous awe, seeing the plains of yellow grass shredded into a rough wasteland of withered soil. But his awe ceased when he made a full turn, his eyes reaching the Ironheadz camp… or at least where it had been.

Stood in front of the savage camp was a colossal barricade of bone. Moulded and merged together to form one massive, solidified structure, a massive pile of dirt and washed against the foot of the wall, unable to penetrate it.

"It was only a matter of time before you came out, you bloated, blubberous berk," Mikey snarled, baring his teeth in maddened disgust.

"Why that's no way ta greet an ol’ friend, Cassius!" a bellowing voice echoed from over the top of the wall before the bone at its base blew open. Charging shoulder-first through the dust, was the ogre war chief La’Qashur, clutching his tree-sized staff in his boulder-picking hands. “Ya’ve taken the young acquaintance of mine hostage. Got some business with him still, ol’ friend.”

“You’re no friend of mine, tyrant. I’m dumbfounded how you could let such a treasure slip through those greedy paws of yours,” Mikey replied aloud, spreading his arms to invite the ogre to attack. The ogre’s attention however briefly shifted behind Mikey, as Buggro approached atop Ribs.

The ogre spat on the ground beside himself as the dust cleared behind him. Untamed warriors, baring jaggedly forged iron, emerged from the clearing. Each lined up behind the war chief, issuing war cries to Mikey and Buggro with crazed passion.

At the very forefront of the masses, standing beside La’Qashur, was Lazarus. He clenched his jaw, his fists pink from how hard he’d balled his fists.

“Kill ‘em,” the war chief called out, his eyes darting to Buggro briefly, then back to Mikey. Lazarus exhaled, fairly uncertain, but prepared after watching Mikey’s conflict with Adendé. “Both of ‘em.”

The cries all converged into a symphony of harmonious bloodlust. Lazarus was the first to charge forward, sprinting ahead of the pack, before the savages all followed behind him. The ogre remained behind, watching his followers throw themselves forward by his command.

"Rats, all of you. Plagued rats festering in the filth of this land," Mikey uttered, taking a knee and laying his staff over the untouched grass below him. "Let it swallow you!"

A rumble beneath the warriors slowed their rampage towards him, though they lacked the care to stop moving.

Lazarus, however, did not, as his pace willingly slowed to a halt.

As the savages passed by him, continuing their advance, enormous Kraken-like roots exploded from the dirt. Sweeping through the masses, coiling around entire groups and stabbing through columns of tribesmen, the roots brutally tore apart the Ironheadz ranks as the entire area was covered in a thick dust cloud.

Lazarus himself was forced to retreat, though ran to the edge of the infant army rather than the rear. His escape began with a vault over one of the giant roots, two savages skewered by it but still squirming.

Following the vault, Lazarus launched himself through a small opening between two savages running towards him, though immediately dropped into a slide. He only narrowly ducked under a pursuing tree root, the bark scraping over the parting in his hair. A terrified echo could be heard from behind him, followed by the splattering sound of what he assumed to be impalement.

Moving out from underneath it, he vaulted up onto the root, before running along the length of it to continue moving through. Unexpectedly, a group of horsemen galloped out of the dust in front of him, each of them charging head fist into a volley of projectile splinters sent from one of the roots.

Forced to alter his path, Lazarus made a left, running alongside the horses momentarily - before they were all slaughtered by the roots’ ranged attack. Although he was seemingly pressing forward, Lazarus found himself entering an open space amidst the wisteria forest, though his vision was still impaired due to the thick dust cloud.

“Que the corny line,”Lazarus joked, stopping his momentum with one powerful step and swinging his hands forward. A vivid vibration had begun halfway through the swing, on a course of certain collision with one another.

CLAP!

A sonic boom blasted from his hands in an omnidirectional wave of force, the dust swiftly fading as a result.

Lazarus’ hands turned to a vibrant red, the force of the clap spotting blood all over his palm. In this small dirt clearing, however, surrounded by an imperfect circle of wisteria, his attention was pulled forward by the fierce barking of a warg. Buggro and Ribs stared at him amidst the small fighting ground they’d found themselves in.

“You’re out of your league, Buggro. You should know that,” Lazarus warned the little red goblin with the shake of his head, unintimidated by the runt warg.

"Mud cap'in. Buggro's been taught a few tricksies. Dontcha know?" Buggro spoke in a more sadistic tone than usual, his tongue escaping from his mouth to lick the edge of his axe. A growl emerged from the wisteria behind Lazarus, a brief pattering from a leap over the debris. The warg Mud emerged from behind Lazarus, growling at Ribs and Buggro.

"Perfect. Let's share."

Somewhere, in the far distance, a storm began to brew. Black clouds took to the sky, as a behemoth pushed itself off of the base of a gigantic crater carved into the ground. Tattered robes littered the ground, its absence revealing metallic charcoal clad firmly over the giant's skin.

The dark shine of his metal skin reflected the azure flashes overhead.

"Alright, Mikhail," Adendé uttered as he reached down to equip his bronze mask, pulling it over the burnished skin with a clink. "I'll be beating your ass now."