This was not a fight worth fighting. He wasn't even sure they could win.

Actually, he was pretty sure they could win this fight. It was the ensuing battles they would need to have in order to leave the territory that concerned him.

And that was assuming she didn't get involved. Fat chance on that.

Ever since Fang led his people into this… realm? He had been hearing the land whisper to him. Most of the time, it was a jumble of voices that made little to no sense, but occasionally something would come through that he could understand.

From the month they had hounded their pray into this land, he had pieced enough together to understand.

They should never have come here, they did not belong here, and the inhabitants did not appreciate their visit.

There was little choice in the matter, though. They had to kill the Other Swarm Queen. It was a creature that did not belong, and should never have been allowed to enter, their world. Its very existence twisted everything around it. They could not take the chance it might come back a fourth time to ravage their lands after retreating into this realm… again.

The first time they did not understand what they were fighting. They thought it was just another pack of abominations.

When they returned more powerful than before a few decades later, the People had to pay the blood price to fight them back. They tried to hunt down the Queens of the Swarm, but when one ran into one of the vales leading to The Wilds, everyone thought it would die.

They were wrong.

When it came back, it nearly destroyed the People. The monsters spawned by the queens were too adapted and focused as a counter to the clans and their myriad narooh.

Even with all of the gathered Peoples' strength, they could not stop the onrushing hoards.

Chitin-covered lizards ran down wolf packs on the plains.

Spiders reaching up to eight feet wide and four tall stalked the nights hunting the cats, screchas, and foxes.

Leathery eight-legged beasts could stop a tri-nose charge cold.

And under the ground, worms and something similar to rats swarmed over the moles and thunder dragons.

Not to mention that the swarms' blood was poisonous to consume and blighted the land it fell on. Even when they won, they were forced to flee the blighted area the battle was fought over, so untimely, they still lost.

The only way people survived was by running. Their enemies were just too many and too strong. One after another, once grand cities, the pride of their respective clans, were razed until only the oldest, farthest away cities remained.

And even those would have been lost if not for circumstance.

A combination of the Crown happening to send waves of destruction fire out into the world once again spawning the abominations, along with Fang hunting down most of the Swarm Queens alone, were the People able to survive.

In the end, however, they still failed. A queen escaped into The Wilds.

They sent a warband of their strongest five thousand warriors and narooh into the vale leading to the wilds after the Other Swarm Queen.

It was an act of desperation.

Of all the borders to their land, this was the one they knew the least about. None of the scouts and adventurers that ventured into the wilderness past the vales returned.

Even Fang was wary about entering. Something about the idea of stepping paw into those forests set his heart full of trepidation.

He had been to every border of the Peoples' land.

He ran through the Elemental Mountain Range to the west, where creatures of stone, water, wood, air, fire, metal, and lightning roamed.

Looking over and walking along the Cliffs and Trench lining their southern border. Fang even interacted with and watched the traders that sailed the waters of the Basin.

The most enjoyable of all the borders was when he bathed in the Boiling Sea to the northeast.

But the north? No.

Fang had walked along and ventured past all the edges of their domain, except one. To trespass into those lands—The Wilds as he now knew they were called thanks to the whispers—he would have needed a significant driving force and to be at his best. Not the nearly broken heap he was after hunting down the queens.

When only a few dozen warriors and narooh of the thousands sent into The Wilds returned, Fang was not surprised. He was saddened that he sent so many of them to their deaths, or worse, but not surprised.

Once they talked to those who returned, they found that all of them were broken in some way, their minds and bodies not designed to withstand the trials they encountered.

Some told stories of the beautiful fair folk they encountered. They described their voices as musical and lilting. How the warriors could and did, become captivated—enchanted by a single word or distant song.

The returnees spoke of how they saw some of their comrades eat the lushes tempting fruit and food of the Wilds, and they began to change. Becoming… otherworldly. Not fully human.

Everyone who ate the offered food became increasingly distracted by their surroundings until they wandered off, never to return.

Charismatic compelling voices, spoken by the most enticing creatures they had ever seen, offered bargains to warband members, and without exception, those who accepted lived to regret it. Or so the survivors said. They were reluctant to talk about it and usually shivered in fear at the memory.

Two things were constant in the stories of the returnees. They wandered around the picturesque forest after fleeing from whatever contact with the inhabitants they had, and they never saw the Other Swarm Queen.

As they ran, a constant chorus of low giggles and laughter, interspersed with half-heard words, chased them. And if they stopped, the feeling of imminent doom would build until they started running again.

They said it was a constant drum in their ears that jumped from barely audible to defining. After a while, the noise filling their mind and ears shifted to the beat of hoofs and baying of hounds growing ever closer.

When they could take no more running and collapsed to the ground gasping for air. At that moment, the survivors described they were so desperate to stop the sound that they began trying to tear their ears off to stop it.

In that instant, the noise stopped, and a silver mist rose from the ground enveloping them in its cold clammy grip that seeped into their bones.

The touch of the mist was described to Fang as the life being sucked from them. The feeling of weakness grew and grew until they felt like they had nothing else to give, then a heartrending, slightly male-sounding mocking voice spoke to them, "A deal made is a deal kept. Come back soon… mortals."

They knew it was one of the beings that lived here. That he was the one doing everything to them and killed their comrades, but everyone, without exception, had a look of longing as they spoke of the voice.

And then they found themselves stumbling out of the forest in the vale they used to enter The Wilds.

Fang watched them all tell their tales. And though their accounts varied somewhat, a common theme ran through them all. As much as their journey through The Wilds terrified the former proud warriors, they longed to return.

It was a drug that they could not get out of their system. And over the years, their yearning to return grew. Eventually, the impulse reached the point that the survivors either killed themselves in an attempt to return or made it back to the forests of The Wilds.

That was the first and only band of his people that Fang planned on letting go into such a cursed and poisonous place. Even those who came back with horror stories of their time there never really came back.

They knew the Queen would eventually return, so they prepared.

Fang, and the other spirit ancestors, made sure they were prepared. That the stores of their near destruction remained fresh in the minds of all.

And when the Swarm Queen came back with its children two generations later, the gathered tribes smashed the hoard before it could reach the numbers that would overwhelm them.

In the end, though, they failed again. Another queen escaped and ran back into the wilds.

This time, Fang was not recovering from a massive expenditure of faith energy and years of battle.

If a force had to be sent into The Wilds, he would be at its head.

The Council was not happy about it, but they could not stop him either.

And so Fang led his warband of six thousand into The Wilds, and it was a good thing he did.

Whatever rules the realm ran by, they were not logical. Look away from one section of forest for a second, and a different forest area will be there when you turn back.

It might be similar, similar enough that one could question if there really was a change, but Fang had a good enough memory to pick out the differences.

Everything was a trap to deceive and trick the mind.

Without him being a connecting unifying force the warband could gather around, his people would have already been separated by the twisting reality and illusions that plagued this world.

One step to the next, Fang found his surroundings could alter as if he was teleported to another part of the forest. And always, he saw and heard the elegant slender creatures walking around his people off in the distance.

They would not come close enough to fight, but more than a few of his people were lured away by the sweet whispers they used to ensnare their minds.

Mocking voices would chase after him as he rushed to save his ensnared people. Whether he failed or succeeded, their jeers would follow him.

It did not seem to matter to them what happened, only the enjoyment they got out of the situation and mocking.

Fang quickly learned not to try and save his warriors. The moment his attention wavered from the group to retrieve a single warrior or bonded, ten more would be taken from the other side of the warband.

The longer they stayed on the trail of the Queen, and the farther they went into The Wilds, the more Fang began to understand what he heard from the land. Fang began to understand where they were with fragmented memories of his time before the People. Or the thought he did, at least.

It did not make him any happier to know. Only increased his drive to leave.

This place was far more dangerous than he could understand.

Without fulfilling their purpose, though, the warband could only press on.

That was how they ended up where they were after days and weeks of travel.

They sat on a hill that had a crack on its crown which led down to a cave system that Fang was sure contained the hiding Queen and her growing hoard.

The impossibly elegant and beautiful creatures riding great stags with glowing antlers surrounded them. Milling around the hoofs of the stags were giant shaggy wolves with their teeth bared.

The silvery metal making up their swords, armor, and spear tips gave Fang an uneasy feeling. They were more dangerous than they looked.

Even now, as their two armies stood on opposite sides of the field preparing to join in battle against the elves—or are they fae? Does it really matter?—who giggled and whispered among themselves, passing around food and skins of wine.

It was a stark difference between them and Fang's warband. Warriors and their companions shifted nervously and tried to hide their fear behind stony faces and shouts of bravado.

No one was fooled. Half the warband could smell the barely contained fear on the drifting breeze, and the other half knew the first half could smell it.

Fang knew it was time to put it all on the line. Up to this point, he had been… wary of acting directly.

The land spoke of its Ruler. And once Fang knew to look, he could feel her constant presence.

She had not noticed him, not consciously. But every time he drew on his power, a little more of her attention would be drawn to him. To them.

They were in a realm Fang was confident stretched farther than he could not fully comprehend, and it was under her direct control.

The land did not follow the laws he knew and whispered how it could make her wishes and desires a reality.

He had hoped that he would be able to pass through the lands without drawing her full attention, but that was impossible now.

Whatever powers these pointed-eared freaks had, it was disrupting his peoples' connection to the totem. It was no wonder the previous expedition had been such a disaster, with that being the case.

With Fang around, his presence passively reinforced their connections, letting them press on longer than they otherwise would have, but it had reached the limit.

His warriors were weak and would only grow more vulnerable the longer they remained in this place.

Fang's connection to the totem was still fine, if a little constricted. All it would take was a surge of will on his part for the spiritual link to be thrown open and the power to surge through him. And from him to the rest of the warband.

Letting out a huff, Fang closed his eyes before snapping them open and doing just that.

Power filled him, making him feel more alive and stronger than a moment before. It was exhilarating—addictive—to be filled with such power.

Fang let the power flow to the warriors around him. Their spines stiffened as the power struck them, and the fear suffusing the hill vanished.

In its place, excitement and anticipation took over. At a word, the warriors would charge down the small hill into the faces of their enemies.

He was not done, however. If they were going to fight, a fight that would, more likely than not, not end for days as battle after battle presented itself, he would need to put everything he could into it.

Reaching down his connection to the totem, Fang flexed, straining the wall of the spiritual link. Then he pulled.

Power filled Fang to bursting, and he let it coat his sides reinforcing his fur. Sparks would drip off his coat as he doubled and then tripled in size, shining a brilliant silver.

When the sparks hit the ground, the energy sparked and sizzled against a dark-rich-green energy that came out to challenge it.

The power dripping off Fang fought against the dark green energy for only a moment before Fang's power consumed it.

And with the consumption of the power, the ground around Fang began to change.

How it changed, Fang had no idea, only that it did. That it felt more… welcoming.

But he knew the effect. The warriors and narooh making up the warband stood straighter, rolling their shoulders and shaking their legs. It was as if a weight that had been pressing down on them this whole time had been lifted. The ears of the cats and wolves perked up as if they could hear a little better.

Fang let more of his power roll off him once he saw the effect of his power, trying to increase the area of the land affected by the change. He knew they were running out of time.

He could feel her full attention. It was not as bad as he had feared, but he suspected that was because of the change his power was having on the ground.

She was confused about what was happening, but that would not last long, and his instincts screamed that he did not want his people on unchanged land when she finally got around to coming here.

Like a waterfall of silver light, the power streamed off Fang. His power crashed over the land and down the hill halfway to the opposing army.

An army that had started to shout and scream in fear as they pointed at Fang.

The leader’s—whose head was topped with a massive pair of antlers that had lighting jumping between its points and a cape that always seemed to billow in a breeze even when there wasn't one—face paled.

He pointed his spear forward at Fang when the wave of silver energy was halfway to him and was about to shout something when everything froze.

Well, not everything.

His warriors were slumped in place like a massive weight was pressing them down, locking them to the ground, and they could not move more than their eyes. The elves, some of which were in mid-leap or sprint, hovered in the air or impossible to hold positions like a front toe touching the ground in a sprint yet to be completed.

It was somewhat disconcerting that not even their eyes were moving.

The power flowing off Fang, though, was far from still. It clashed and raged with a dark ice blue power completely encasing it, trying to stop its spread.

The power was pouring off a small woman standing a few feet beyond where their opposing energies raged against one another.

Fang could feel that his power was winning the fight. Why he could not say, there was nothing he could feel that should give him the upper hand, but as he watched, the boundary between the two forces inched outward slowly.

He was not deceived, however.

From the time the Crown exploded with destruction energy, the Mistrunner's population soured. Whole tribes and city-states dotting the plains had been integrated into what they now called themselves: The People.

Others had tried to make other names like the Watchers, the Wardens, the Guardians, or the Collective. They all had some ring of truth to them, but Fang liked The People, and it was the one that stuck.

There were distinct tribes making up the People, and all of them belonged to one or more clans according to their adopted narooh. Even with the cities they had lost to the Swarm Queens, they still numbered around four million.

It was only about five percent of what they were, but they were recovering fast. And all those people were funneling faith energy to Fang through the totems.

The amount of power he had access to was staggering.

The fact remained, it was not enough.

Fang faced the avatar of a nearly endless world filled with trillions of living sentient beings at the low end. And she could pull power from every single thing within this realm if she wanted to.

That was what Fang heard from the land, at least. And he did not get the feeling that it was lying.

It would be like an ant fighting against a tsunami.

Maybe not that bad. Point for point, Fang had the advantage.

It was just that she was a millionaire and he was a thousandaire. He would be swamped by her reserves of power without her breaking a sweat, even if he drained the totem.

Walking one careful step after another, Fang approached the small elf. He would guess she was about five and a half feet tall, but that would only put her about mid-chest on the other elves around her. Combined with her slender, delicate appearance, it made her look positively tiny compared to the other elves.

Not that anyone, or thing, could ever make the assumption that she was weak. Power filled the air around her. And more than that, she carried herself with the bearing of authority. No one could describe her without using the world regal.

Stopping the same distance from the still fighting energies as the woman was, Fang bowed his head.

Whatever the outcome of this situation ultimately became, she deserved respect and acknowledgment. Fang could feel that.

The word old did not do her justice, and in that long life, she had accumulated power and done things that Fang would not even dream of. Most importantly, she held onto that power while fending off her rivals. Underestimating her would lead to his and his people's death. Shit, thinking we are equals might do that.

Giving her the respect she was due when he was the one invading her land, even if it was for a good cause, was the very least he could do. It beat the alternative of pissing her off because of some perceived slight.

Pissing her off seemed like a needlessly complicated and potentially excruciating way to commit suicide. Fae were not kind to enemies. Or allies, for that matter.

After he raised his head and looked back at her face, she locked eyes with Fang causing his fur to stand on end.

"Why do you invade my lands?" her voice was the most captivating thing Fang had ever heard. It put all of the music he had ever listened to shame, and he doubted that would change anytime soon.

Her perfection and elegance that had already made the rest of her people look bland in comparison grew with her words.

A pressure began to exert itself upon Fang. He did not know what it was, but he felt it deep inside.

The power was insidious as it slipped past all of his defenses and efforts to stop it from worming into the core of his being.

Fang began to feel a deep overwhelming need to please and serve the perfection in the shape of a woman before him. He would do anything to see this goddess smile or hear her laugh. Even a pat on his head would with worth any amount of effort.

"I do my duty. You should perform yours. Now leave!" Barked Fang in a biting voice.

He did not know where those words came from. All he wanted to do was please the goddess. The perfection made flesh that deserved all the world had to offer. All he had to offer.

As she took two whole steps backward and frowned, Fang thought he might die.

*Crack!*

Fang shook his head, bearing his teeth at the woman as his head cleared. He did not know what she had done to make him feel like that, and the fact that he didn't know how he resisted did not help.

The pricklings of fear running down his back grew as the slight frown on her face deepened as he glared at her.

No longer was the elf woman perfection made flesh or a goddess of beauty standing before him. She was still an otherworldly beauty that mortals could only aspire to, but Fang could handle that.

Her growing frown and darkening face and the black clouds gathering overhead were more concerning. Why do they feel like the same thing? Thought Fang.

When she spoke, Fang was about to launch an attack to stop the growing tension. "I request a Summit."

The words rang out into the world with power. The very air seemed to reverberate with every syllable.

Reality shifted, and Fang could feel the attention of something… monumental pass over him.

For an eternal moment, the attention studied everything and one, then it spoke, GRANTED—

Fang blinked, trying to place where he was.

As what was before him swam into focus, he remembered freezing in place as the world looked at him. Then… nothing.

Anxiety and fear caused his coat to fluff out and his ears to lay back against his head.

The feeling quickly faded, though he had no idea why. It just felt wrong?

Everything was still frozen in place, and he stood the same distance away from… Mab, The Guardian of the Boundary and Queen of Winter. Where did that come from?

Fang shook off the weird feeling of having her name and titles popping into his head and focused.

The ground between the two and arching out to the sides around the hill to his back was burnt and deformed from the clashing of the two energies.

There was no concern within him that the energy was gone.

Once he had steadied himself, he looked at the Queen of Winter.

Her clothes were a dark blue over pale blue open shoulder dress with a silver-like metal choker around her neck, long sleeves, and a top that hugged her skin until her waist. At her waist, the dress billowed out slightly, hanging loosely with the skirt's pleated layers actively shifting to different shades of blue, dropping right above her ankles and naked feet.

After a moment of him looking at her, Queen Mab gave Fang a slight smile that literally lit up the world, then flung her arms and skirt down and out in a sweeping curtsy.

Fang could not call it elegant. Calling the movement elegant would mean he would never again see something elegant. It was… the perfection of grace.

As she lowered herself to the ground, her skirt flared out settling smoothly over the grass.

As she knelt, head bowed, flowers of ice bloomed all around and on her skirt. Above her head, snow began to fall as a backdrop that melted before hitting the ground.

She knelt on the ground for three seconds before she rose to her feet as gracefully as she knelt to the ground.

"I apologize for how my subjects treated you." A flash of disgust and hatred twisted her face into a mask of terror as she flicked her hand at the ground.

A wave of power rolled out of her at the gesture, and the land froze. Once vibrant trees and bushes flourishing in the heart of summer became devoid of leaves in preparation for winter.

Clumps of snow hung in the branches of the trees, and the ground was covered in frost.

Beneath Fang, a cold, unlike anything he had ever believed possible, tickled his senses.

The ground razed ever so slightly before dropping a foot down and stabilizing again.

Face shifting to the cool inviting mask it had been when she had apologized like it had never changed, she spoke again, "Thank you for alerting us to the threat and taking it upon yourself to rid the world of the filth. We should have welcomed you with open arms for your service. You and your people will never be treated in such a way again."

She turned at the words, and a mantle of power and authority formed around her. Her words took on the sound of Law and reverberated out into her land for all to know, "Let it be known, The Warden, The Warden's Shadow, The People, and any that act under their purview are welcome within these lands in performance of their duties. Should are come across them while they chase their prey, you will aid them to the best of your ability without deceit or trickery. And when they are done with their hunt, you will guide them back to their lands by the swiftest roads. None shale coerce, through threat, trick, bribe, guile, or lust, those under the protection of The Warden's Mantle. Should one knowingly or unknowingly break this law, in spirit or word, they will be subject to The Warden's will and stripped of all status within The Wilds."

While the Queen of Fairy spoke, Fang searched the ground with all his senses looking for the Swarm Queen and found no sign. It was like it was never there, to begin with.

When the Queen turned back to Fang, all of the elves around the hill were bowed, facing toward her.

As one, the gathered elves spoke, "We hear and obey!"

The gathered elves stood, and their weapons and armor were replaced by loose festive clothing. All around the gathered hill and into the forest, quickly coming back into full bloom now that the snow that covered everything was gone, a feast was laid out.

Already the elves were frolicking between the boughs, their tinkling laughter tickling his ears.

"You may join the festivities and fear no harm. In the morning, you will wake to find your bodies and minds refreshed and fond, joyful memories filling your hearts. Or, you may take this path," Mab waved her hand to the side and a tree-lined path that was half shadowed by leaves and had a joyful, merry feel to it rather than the depressing overbearing forest they had been traveling through to get here appeared, "and you will find yourselves at the border of your lands in a half-days travel."

"Thank you for your hospitality, your majesty. I will accept the offer." Fang said with a bow of his head, turning his warriors who were gathering themselves and looking around in confusion. He spoke again, "Should any feel the need to leave, take the offered path without fear or hesitation. Should you with of experience a night you will never forget, stay. This will the be the dawn of a new era for our people."

Tuning back to the Queen, Fang walked towards her as he half turned and waved for him to join her. Side by side, they walked through the joyful elves.

Fang knew everything the Queen said was true.

How did he know… well, he felt he would understand in time. And while he felt she was as bound to the Law she proclaimed as much as anyone else, it did not do to insult a Queen, regardless of the reason.

He was just happy that they would no longer have to fear traveling into the Wilds while pursuing the Others. Leaving those around longer than necessary was asking for trouble.

Shaking himself, Fang looked around. It had been a while since he could let loose without fear of something terrible happening.

Responsibility isn't good for my soul. He thought as his weary body sparked with new life.

**********

Endless Qi flowed.

A cycle that compounded upon itself. It built and built, cumulating into a savage raging storm.

It was impartial as it spent its fury upon the land and what was on it.

Within the heart of the ever more chaotic storm, the source and primary target of the storm howled and wheezed into the dark sky.

The smoke did tint and defuse the faux sun's light, but that was not the reason why it was dark.

For sure, it was part of the reason.

Can't have a flock of hundreds or thousands of demons overhead and not have the surrounding light be impeded. But even the flocking demons were not the reason for the perpetual consuming darkness.

It was the liquid Qi, black and normal, that was blocking out all light except the light he made.

Jake's fur burst with power as it strained to shed the growing power building within him. I can't hold this power. It's too much.

Over the past hours, Jake had learned his fur was his best and most adaptable resource.

His claws could rend and dig into the ground, but blocking all attacks with his nails in a melee was impossible, especially in a melee with mobile, maneuverable combatants in three dimensions.

Even if he could track everything around him, he was far from being able to swing his arm around and connect to the threat. Or jump to the side to avoid every strong attack.

His fur fed by his Qi, though? There were very few spots on his body that were not covered.

As such, shooting out strands of fur like a spear to pierce an enemy or hook into the ground and tow him to the side was invaluable by itself. His fur was also blunting the force of anything slamming into him. And when the demons tried slashing him, their nails skidded across his fur, unable to gain purchase and dig in, as it folded to make a smooth surface.

He did not have to worry about piercing attacks with the demons not having any tools and their tails rather useless, not that he would be concerned if the demons suddenly brought them out. The new weapons would add to the growing fun.

Even if they did appear, the power rolling off his body should blunt the thrusts enough that his skin should be able to handle the rest.

Howling into the sky, Jake's right arm was in constant motion as his fishing line shot out, wrapping up imps to bring back to be smashed under his feet. He prioritized the ones that looked like they almost had a fully formed fireball before them.

When the fireball exploded in their hands as they were interrupted, it would often distract the surrounding imps, sometimes resulting in a cascade of explosions running around him as the other demons lost control of their own Qi workings.

It was kind of pretty to Jake.

"It's like fireworks!" shouted Jake as he caused another chain of explosions. I need to stop fighting.

Not that he got the time to admire it, the imps would never leave him alone.

Right now, his greatest ally is his constant movement.

Movement by itself was pointless, though. If something did not thin out the crowds around him, they would continue to mass until he could not move at all and bury him under the mass of their bodies as they tore him to shreds.

Even his protection and regeneration would not last long under that onslaught. Anything could be brought down given enough nicks bleeding away their strength.

Stomping down his paw and twisting to rend the flesh of the newest imp that his rod brought in, Jake slashed his other arm out, bisecting an imp.

Dropping low in a crouch and leaning far to the side to dodge a volley of fireballs and a wing of three demons sweeping in, Jake flexed his legs, skimming over the ground in a leap.

After a second, where he traveled two dozen feet, Jake's fishing line that he had been letting trail behind had come into contact with seven imps.

He did not yank them all to him. Without his feet planted on the ground, claws dug into the ground, he could not even pull in three of the things as they fought to stay aloft.

They were some of the hardest fighters he had ever had on the line.

Jerking to a stop as he stopped letting line reel out, Jake began to swing around the imps avoiding the exploding fireballs in front of him.

As he was carried slightly into the air as the demons tried to not fall to the ground, patches of his fur clumped together like a screw before rapidly twisting out.

If the targets were within a few yards around him, Jake's fur would stay together as it grew, skewering the targets. Anything farther, his fur would rapidly spiral out about a foot leaving the center hollow before an internal gathering of hair at the base surged outward, propelling a bullet-shaped snarl of fur towards an enemy.

He tried to aim, it was good practice, but he knew it didn't matter. Any Qi it took would instantly regenerate, and there were good odds it would hit another demon behind the one he aimed for.

Those attacks were only taking up the back of his mind.

Within the first half an hour, he had adapted his fur to make such attacks with little input from him. I'm learning too fast…

Hitting the little fuckers that attacked out of his range was important at keeping his anger in check during the first part of the battle while the total mass of the demons had yet to descend.

He could only do so much with his fishing pole.

Once the demons massed to the point that he could no longer intercept all of the demons trying to reach claw and fang range, Jake focused on his defenses.

His fur was already incredibly strong and adaptable. What else could you call something that was able to fend off a fireball and make what amounted to a gun?

Given enough time, any stagnant defense could and would be breached. So like anything that wanted to survive, Jake adapted.

His movements took on a grace that had never before touched his body.

A dip of his shoulder caused a slash of corrupted talons that would have penetrated even his defenses, slowing him down for a moment he might not be able to afford, to slide along his hardening fur.

Jake slid to the side and took a glancing blow on his ribs to avoid a blow to his left leg.

Legs in constant movement, Jake adopted what he was.

With every step and sway of his body, the power of chaos shown through.

A leap that should take him over a house saw him dropping to the ground.

Sliding his foot across the ground sent him shooting off, skating over the ground with his other foot.

Taking a step forward made him appear a step backward, facing 180 degrees from where he took the step.

His arms began to flicker and appear seemingly at random around him. If one tried to anticipate his moments from his body, they would never predict where he would be.

Jake did not even know where his body would appear.

There were only two things that he knew. He would never be put inside another object, and he would be able to make another attack with reasonable success if he was quick and strong enough.

Appearing within a group, Jake slashed around him, decapitating a group of imps. He took a slash on the chest that pulsed a rotting black for a few beats of his rapid heart before the black faded away. Once the black was entirely gone, the wound healed within a breath.

Leaping to the side, Jake appeared above where he just was, falling to the ground. The demons to the sides of where he was jumped at him in an attempt to dogpile him. Flexing his fur, he sent out spikes puncturing the gathered imps through their skulls.

The slight upward movement of his spikes hitting the ground sent him hurtling to the side, passing through a group of demons whose claws scraped along his fur.

Small strips of corrupted blackened blood appeared along the shallow cuts.

Jake's body thrummed with power as he sank deeper and deeper into the waves of energy roaring through him.

Every drop of black Qi used on his land shot straight to him as if pulled by a massive magnet once it achieved its initial purpose. Even the Qi used outside of his land began to build up, causing more black Qi to be pressed into the borders of his land.

Jake had never felt so much Qi running through him and past his core. It had long since gotten to the point that it never really closed. That's bad, right?

I need to stop. Whispered a small quiet part of his mind.

"Come at me and die like the trash you are!" shouted Jake, voice filled with power.

The annoying part of his mind had been growing increasingly quiet recently. Which was good. Left him more able to focus on the fight and his evolving combat style.

His body felt like it was burning up, even as it was filled with life.

As he moved, a haze of white dust was left in his wake.

It was the tips of his fur.

With every movement and increased by the use of his Qi, the tips of his fur flacked away, dissolving into nothing as the specks floating in the air.

His fur was disintegrating into the air. The only reason he was not a bald werewolf running around was his fur was constantly growing.

The drain was a minor annoyance, but with all of his Qi, it did not matter.

This is too much… too much power! "More! I need more power!"

Jake reached around him and pulled more of the Qi swirling around his body into him.

A pulse of raw power threw everything around Jake back for a moment before they rushed forward again.

Looking at his fishing pole, Jake sent out a stream of power, changing its shape. The rod condensed, becoming little more than a baton in length.

The flood of bodies hit Jake.

A flick of Jake's wrist smashed his baton into an imp's head, caving it in.

His other hand intercepted the slashing claws of another imp and clamped down, using the imp's body as a club as he swung it about.

While he moved his arms and occasionally kicked out and smashed a conveniently placed imp beneath his feet, his fur was rapidly shooting out spears of disintegrating fur. I'm dying…

There were too many. Claws would slash against Jake's fur, puncturing his skin. His body could not heal fast enough, and he was slowly overwhelmed. But it was ok.

Every wound on his body had a multi-colored prismatic light shining through. The light would eat away at the injuries the beams were shining through as his body tried to heal them.

For a moment, a balance was reached.

When the light hit a demon, it would disintegrate, falling to sparkling dust.

His body could barely keep up with the wounds the imps gave, but the light was killing so many demons as he spun and twirled around that his body was slowly winning the fight against the wounds.

"Hahahahaha! Come and fight! I will be the death of you all!"

Jake reached out to pull more power to him. He wanted more. Needed more.

He felt more alive than ever, despite the constant feeling he was being consumed by an internal fire.

The power was addictive, and any fleeting pain he might feel was overshadowed by the euphoria of the raw power he held within him.

Suddenly the swarming demon around Jake vanished, not that Jake realized it at first as he continued to spin around for a few seconds guiding the torrents of power to him.

As the last of the wounds on his body closed up, Jake stopped his gathering of power for a moment to look around. It will be a better rush if it all hits me at once.

He would be surprised if two hundred imps were still alive, hovering around him. He was slightly sad that he would need to find something else to fight. But there was always something more around here.

Blinking while looking at the demons, Jake heard a soft thud and was surprised to see an imp in front of him when he opened his eyes.

The main difference was it no longer had a beer belly and was over twice the size of the other imps.

Jake was going to lash out at the imp, but something in the creature's black eyes stopped him. There was—

Something slammed into Jake, his body ravaged, unlike anything he had experienced in the long fight before.

A black fire was running over his body, burning through his fur and eating away chunks of his skin.

Once the multi-colored light shone through his skin, the flame surrounding the point would be put out, but only until—if—the wound was healed.

His body was covered in flames, and his regeneration was far from keeping up.

Jake felt like he had slammed into a cushion.

Like a blanket caught Jake as he flew and was trying to slow him down as it folded around him.

It wasn't an actual blanket, but when his eyes regenerated for a moment and he could see through the flames and surrounding light, it looked like space was warping to Jake.

The world was fuzzy, and objects that should be distant were overlapping.

Or it could be his eyes. Jake was in no place to judge.

The warping world only lasted for a few moments before something tore, and he could feel himself flying through the air again.

Jake caught glimpses of his valley rapidly growing distant. Mountains appeared and slipped into the distance as the wind howled.

He stopped.

For the shortest of instances, Jake stopped cold. His body began to crumple from the pressure of the impact and be covered in thousands of tiny wounds.

The energy within his body exploded out, ripping into his surroundings and putting out the black fire.

The wall beneath him shattered.

One second, Jake looked out over a grassland that stretched as far as he could see.

The next, he looked down at a city perched along a bottomless trench miles wide. A stone arch over half a mile thick and wide with buildings on top of it that lead to an even larger city spaned the trench.

Flickering away, Jake looked down at a raging sea with waves taller than skyscrapers crashing into the side of a stone cliff.

Now he was looking at a boiling sea covered in steam with dark towering shadows one second and the next, a ravaged war-toran strip of land flickering with explosions as massive armies fought.

Over and over, the scenes flashed by, and Jake could feel the burning energy within him decrease ever so slightly.

Faster and faster, they flickered by, and soon, everything became a blur to Jake.

Then he was falling over an ocean with an island off to the side sparkling with light that was growing larger and larger as he fell, forming an increasingly large ball of fire around him.

Of all the ways to die, falling to his death seemed like a good way to go.

A weak smile spread over Jake's face. He was too tired to do anything more.

His body felt like it was weighed down by thousands of pounds.

Keeping his eyes open from the overwhelming waves of exhaustion pressing against his mind was one of the hardest things he had ever done.

Even as the exhaustion overcame him, he struggled to take it all in as he fell to his death.

It was the most beautiful sight he had ever seen before him.

The moon was out.

It was night. For the first time in… far too long, Jake was in a night.

I'm free…thought Jake as sleep overtook him.