I cursed the snow for not doing a better job of keeping me protected from the super powerful psychos of the world, but that just wasn’t to be.

There was no way I could run, or disappear into thin air, or even fight. So, with a heavy heart and a hope that I would still be reborn, I sent myself up to face the music.

The moment I resurfaced, a massive golden ball of Neuma smashed me back into the snow.

“On second thoughts,” Natom said. “Wait there until I’ve cleared up this mess you’ve made.”

I couldn’t be sure how bad the damage from his casual blast was because I couldn’t see again. I knew there was more pain than I thought would be possible with my immense Constitution. The only thing I was convinced of was that parts of my skeleton were exposed to the cold air.

I barely had the wits about me to start healing, but Sania’s voice in my mind brought me out of my stupor. I couldn’t follow what she was saying, but just the sound of it was enough to shake up my survival instinct, and I began to heal. The moment I was repaired, I slowly raised back up to the surface until my head poked above it.

I hadn’t even seen Natom when he shot me earlier, but now I could see him, and he too was enormous. Not as big as the other two, but that didn’t reduce the imposing figure he was. Dressed in full golden armor, golden wings at least a hundred-feet wide spreading from his back, he faced off against both Stada and Cushec.

“Clive, get out of there,” Sania yelled again.

“I don’t think it will matter, Sania. Natom will find me now and he’s too fast,” I said dejectedly. “Plus, isn’t this the fight we wanted. Certainly not how we’d planned it, but well shit. They always say be careful what you wish for. I wonder how Natom found us.”

“It was the ball of energy you used when you hit Stada,” Danivra said with surprising calm. “The use of the Ethereal Spirit energy. It reeked of the power of Creation. Anyone with the ability to sense power will have felt it. I wouldn’t be surprised if it was felt across the entirety of Falritas.”

“Ah, damn. I was just trying to save you all, but you did warn me about that, Danivra.”

Despite saying I wouldn’t run, I lift myself up from the snow and slowly back away. Danivra’s prediction came true about people feeling the blast. A massive portal opened up on the opposite side of where the fighting was taking place in relation to me.

Eight Baatazu, levels in their early 100s, appeared, followed by a giant shadow creature whose level I couldn’t read. Then ten Gashadokuro followed through. Unfortunately for me, they all wanted one thing and one thing only, and it wasn’t each other. It was little old me. I was over ten-feet tall, and I was nothing but a friggin ant among them. Even the Baatazu looked ridiculous on this occasion.

My only saving grace was that Cushec, Laga, and Natom didn’t want me dead until they’d sucked the power out of me while Destruction’s forces and Stada did.

Which meant a strange kind of lopsided battle with the worst kind of alliances for the participants. The gold of Natom and Cushec stood between Stada and the forces of Destruction. And I kept backpedaling away from them and away from my friends, my family.

I couldn’t take my eyes off the battle, though, marveling as a Gashadokuro, who was technically on Stada’s side for the moment, punched him in the side. Stada retaliated, dismantling the Level 150 giant with two heavy thwacks of his glowing gray paw.

While he was distracted, Cushec hit him with a powerful torrent of flames from above. A gray shield flared up around Stada, protecting him and allowing him to return the attack, scoring a hit against Cushec’s arm as the golden Dragon wheeled away once more out of range.

Natom was waltzing through the eight demons, huge glowing sword making short work of the Level 100 Baatazu, who fell and never stood back up. His path was suddenly halted by the shadow creature, which flowed around him, encasing his body and stifling his radiant energy. The nine remaining Gashadokuro swamped Stada.

I thought Cushec would go back in and attack Stada once more, but he wasn’t stupid. While they were both occupied, his focus fell entirely on me. He came at me like a blur. I kept moving backwards, launching Spicy Balls at him as I went, but he managed to dodge almost all of them, and the ones that did connect barely bothered him.

I either had to use what had built up from the prayers of my bonded which he would most likely dodge, or activate the Cleaver of Clive and pray to myself to do something amazing.

Cushec slowed as he approached, mouth agape as he prepared to shoot flames at me. He was still going too fast for me to do anything but to embrace the burning pain on my non-demon areas and try to get in a telling blow with the cleaver.

The flames sputtered out almost as soon as they began as a ball of white webbing enveloped the front half of the dragon. He thudded into the ground nearby, and Danivra in full spider form jumped on top of him. Her first act was to skewer Laga through the chest with a glowing spider leg. Laga still lived despite the horrendous wound, but a second attack through her head finished the evil little shit off for good.

I didn’t just stand there gawping through. After casting a glance over to the distant battle to see that Natom and Grastad were still occupied with Destruction’s forces, I shot forward toward Cushec’s neck. Pushing as much energy as I could into my blade, I hacked down with all of my might. Cushec, still paralyzed by Danivra’s web, still had a ten-foot-thick neck and insane Constitution. So despite managing to penetrate flesh, there was no dramatic head removal happening anytime soon.

Danivra started plunging her sharp legs into his torso, only the purple glowing limb causing any real damage as I hacked again at his neck when he started to shift, the paralysis wearing off.

“We’ll never kill him in time, Clive,” Danivra said desperately. “We should attempt to flee. I will carry you as fast as I can.”

There was a rush of warm wind behind me and Danivra gaped.

“Or you could continue to fight,” Queen Olata said.

I spun around to see the six-foot-tall fairy on the back of the Wind of the Wild, who was now notably larger than he had been when we had met him. He was big enough only to carry the six-foot fairy at least.

“You came?” I said amazed, unable to contain my amazement.

“I said if you managed to get Stada and two others to fight Natom that I would come, and you achieved that, so here I am. Do you mind getting off Cushec, please?” he said calmly.

I moved away, as did Danivra. Olata floated from the Amarok, and he began to grow, not just in height, but his thin frame became more far more muscular. I couldn’t quell the doubts that swelled in me as he continued to grow to a similar size as Cushec. But he bit into Cushec throat with glowing gold and gray teeth and ripped a huge chunk away. Another bite and the dragon's head was off.

He quickly backed out of the area, and Olata dropped a hazy shield over the Dragon's body. It took a moment before it clicked into place. She was stopping his regeneration. They’d killed Cushec.

I was reeling so much from the sudden turnaround of the situation that my mind seemed to go numb for a moment.

“Clive,” Sania said. “Are you all right? What’s happening? Danivra left us. Your emotions just stopped.”

“Sania! I think I just had a brief mental breakdown. Olata and Wind of the Wild are here to help us. Cushec is dead.”

A babble of incoherent, joyful responses came back from her in my mind before she finally made sense. “Focus, Clive. Stay as safe as you can and do me proud. I know you can do this.”

“Wise words that I fully agree with,” Danivra added.

“Go and finish Natom,” Grigor said, then added in a very disgruntled voice, “We’re praying for you.”

“Thanks, man, I appreciate the help!”

I turned my attention the same way as everyone else—to Natom and Stada. Natom was hammering at Stada now with sword and glowing fist. The huge bear was covered in bright red blood now and limping badly. All of Destruction’s finest had been defeated and I wondered how the hell the two of them had done it.

“Shall we join them?” Wind of the Wild asked me.

I wasn’t prepared for the question. “I… er, yeah sure. Why not?”

I could think of a thousand reasons why not, but I didn’t want to ruin any semblance of faith these people had in me.

As we approached, I felt terrible for Stada. Despite everything, I didn’t want him to die like this, on the point of Natom Fucking Hilgresh’s glowing sword.

“He’s far from dead,” Danivra said. “But he is being soundly beaten, more than I would have expected.”

“He is in dire need of assistance, though,” Wind of the Wild said calmly.

There was a brief swish of wind and he had covered the distance to Natom within a second. The golden Seraphim who looked like he should be a good guy was quick to react to the new threat, spinning and slashing at the giant wolf with his glowing sword. But the sword passed straight through the Wind of the Wild as he leapt for the arsehole's throat.

Natom brought an arm up halfway between a defensive block and blow. Wind of the Wild was batted away. Stada chose that moment to batter Natom’s winged back with a double-pawed swipe, his one gray paw still glowing. The attack sent Natom to the ground for a brief second, before he flew up higher out of their way.

Looking down on the two of them with disdain, he yelled. “You should be glad that I will use the power to restore balance!”

Whatever reply was given wasn’t for our ears, and Natom began to build a glowing ball to send down at one of the unlucky beast kin.

That was when Olata chose to enter the fray, casting a hazy shield surrounded all three of them. The ball blinked out of existence and Natom’s face took on an expression of pure outrage. For a second, I couldn’t understand why he didn’t drop from the air. But the answer was obvious. The fuck head had wings. He tried again to produce a ball of Neuma, but it was to no avail.

“What is this!” he screamed, using his massive wings to spin around. It was only then that he saw Olata.

She flew past him, faster than he could move, and scored a hit against his face. He swung at her with his own completely dull sword and missed. She came back in faster than the eye could see, and Natom was growing enraged.

“She’s not even hurting him,” Danivra said, keeping pace with me as we moved ever closer.

“Is your webbing magic?” I asked.

“Only the paralyzing part,” she said. “Though if he is wrapped in it, and the shield drops, the paralysis will activate.”

I sensed a little anticipation in her voice as we came within range, and she wasted no time in spitting the immense ball of white webbing.

The enraged Natom who was thrashing wildly at Olata wasn’t quick enough to react, and the webbing struck his left wing. He dropped from the air twenty feet or so, while he quickly cut the webbing and managed to stop himself. Danivra shot another web immediately, which he dodged and started coming for us, ignoring the harmless attacks from Olata.

One thing he didn’t consider in the wild onslaught was his lower altitude, and Wind of the Wild made an incredible jump that enabled him to bite into Natom’s armored foot.

The sudden increase in weight dropped Natom further, but he managed to catch himself and raise his sword to attack the Amarok now dangling from his ankle.

The reduced height brought him in range of Stada’s desperate leap, and his wings could not come close to bearing the incredible weight.

Danivra moved in to join the fray now that she could bring her natural weapons to bear. I could barely make Natom out anymore under the sea of hatred for the man beyond what I’d even guessed at. Without Neuma, he had no chance against the enemies arrayed against him. I wanted to get involved myself, but I wasn’t really the right kind of size for this battle, and there was still every chance Stada would paste me as soon as he clapped eyes on me, so I waited at the edge of the barrier.

Considering it was purely physical, the punishment continued for a long time. Just when I thought it must be coming to an end, I heard a shriek. I could just make out that Natom had managed to somehow grab Olata in an outstretched hand. The barrier dropped. Wind of the Wild's teeth glowed, Stada’s paw glowed, Danivra’s leg regained its purple glow, but they all paled in the glowing golden energy coming from beneath them all.

I instinctively started building a Spicy Ball, walking toward the heap of fighting bodies. Natom couldn’t get free no matter what. At this stage, I’d happily take one for the team just to put Natom out of action permanently.

Once my core provided all I could, I tapped into my refreshed stores of energy from my Aspirants. The Ethereal storage was full again. They'd been busy, and the ball bloomed in a multi-colored swirl again.

Whatever power Natom was building erupted, and Stada, Wind of the Wild, and Danivra went flying away from him. The ball in my hand seemed to deflect the power that was spewed from his blast, protecting me as I approached.

Natom lay there, his body a total mess, both legs missing, rib cage open, his face half chewed, but he was beginning to heal quickly. I ran the last few feet, approaching his rapidly forming head.

I pushed the ball directly into his face. I’d Stada hit from a mile away. Natom got the full blast into the face. His head disintegrated as far as I could tell as I was blown from my own blast high into the sky.

Before the world went black, I knew one thing. This was the most injured I’d been in the entire fight, and I’d done it to myself.