Zonon-In’s goading had worked better than she’d expected.

This ‘Chosen’ was tearing through the sky shadowed by the other two flying mortals, the giant clay soldier, and a horde of air elementals. Below them, walking trees were coming from the swamp, wading toward her.

The rest of their forces weren’t idle either, they had gathered in numbers and were scrambling to block her army.

It was perfect; she’d made them chase her and her horde, and like fools, they’d done exactly what she’d wanted. Now they were divided, weakened and easier to conquer.

Which also meant…it was time to direct her troops.

“Keep retreating,” she reached into their minds. “I will catch up. There’s something I have to do first.” Her teeth bared.

Gripping her war-spear, Zonon-In spread her arms in invitation.

“Come!” her voice thundered. “You wish to test your mettle against me, ‘Chosen of Oolurder’? Well, here I am! I respond to your challenge with one of my own! How will you answer it?” She enjoyed twisting the god’s name.

His answer was a shouted incantation and flame circling his hand.

“Oooo, how spicy.” She spread her arms wider, ready for his magic.

The Chosen threw a fireball.

It streaked across the marsh—trailing sparks—and exploded against her torso. A magical inferno engulfed the demon, but all mana within it recoiled from her flesh.

‘This raging flame feels no hotter than noon in this lifeless place...oh how I miss the joy of true heat,’ she thought, standing among the flames, patiently watching them fade, then fanning smoke and steam away.

“Not bad, mighty Chosen!” her tone was dismissive. “But you’ll have to do better than that! Do I look like some lesser demon who would have been roasted by your little spark? I need a challenge, something to drive me down to one knee, but I’m sorry to tell you, that wasn’t it! Maybe a slap or two from your little hands might work. I might feel that!”

Despite her goading, the Chosen—much to her disappointment—didn’t take the bait and rush her in a blind rage. It was too bad, she loved when mortals did that.

She waited for his next move.

He was slowing, advancing cautiously…his body was tensing: getting ready for something...

All of a sudden, he blurred into motion, charging straight for her.

“Yes! Come on!” Her weapon whirled in anticipation.

With a terrible noise, the hungry war-spear slammed against his morphic weapon, surprising her with the force of his blow.

“You are a strong one,” she complimented. “For a mortal.”

She thrust the war-spear, crashing against his guard, knocking him back.

“But, I am strong too, for a demon.” She grinned, letting her mouth tentacles run along her teeth.

“Holy Uldar! Hear my cry, let your light fall and burn this invader of your land!” The Chosen called out to his god.

A shift of divine force came from above, she glanced up just in time to catch a column of light streaking from the sky. It struck, swirling around her, seeking the destruction of her very essence…but it recoiled, just as the mana did.

The demon scratched at her skin. “Agh, trying to itch me to death isn’t a very sound strategy, Chosen of Ooladar,” she abruptly thrust her war-spear at his Mark through the fading light. Cedric zipped away, barely escaping a blow that would have impaled his chest.

“Perhaps you can call on your god to come down himself if you want his power to strike me down!” She was enjoying herself. “When it comes through you it’s a little…lacking. That’s not an insult mind you, just a fact. Maybe we should see if your martial skills fare any better.”

With a snarl, her war-spear exploded, serving up a flurry of blurring cuts. The Chosen dodged the barbed blade while it cut air, water and nearby trees with equal ease.

She’d expected the shirtless man to die time and again, but to her surprise, he endured. He even parried her strikes, angling them away and diverting much of the force.

Her eyebrow arched.

This mortal looked young…even by mortal counting, but he fought like he’d lived through a lifetime of battles.

“You might make a good tribute for my lord,” she said. “I think—”

The rest of the thought abruptly ended when ugly sounds escaped her. She began cursing in her demon tongue, glaring from a gaping puncture wound on an upper hand, to the Chosen.

He grinned viciously. “Oi, demon, how’s that for a tribute? Now, less talkin’, an’ more fightin’.”

Zonon-In looked from the wound to her opponent one last time.

“As you wish.” She shrugged.

Metal struck metal, the sound reverberating through the air.

A massive blow from her war-spear slammed into his morphic weapon, flinging him through the air like a catapult stone. He bounced off a tree, struck the ground and skidded across swamp water before halting with a thud against a willow.

His groans revealed his condition as he slid down the trunk, catching himself on a branch, his mind in a daze.

Zonon-In flipped her war-spear, pulling her arm back for a throw. First, she would sever his throwing arm, then—

Something flew at her face.

She caught a glimpse of what looked like a glowing hand gripping a vial, right before crimson light and the crunch of breaking glass came.

A whoosh of vapours blocked her sight, but she sensed mana recoiling as she inhaled the dense mist.

“Maybe go back to talking!” a new voice said. “I liked it a lot better when you were talking!”

Then she was surrounded by whirling air elementals.

###

“Oooooh by the Traveller!” Alex murmured, gaping at the enormous demon who’d just swatted Cedric like a fly.

“She’s fast,” Theresa said grimly. “Way too fast for something that size to be.”

“That’s for damn sure,” he agreed, tossing booby-trapped potions at the towering demon. “Zap her!” he shouted in a tongue of air elementals. “Keep hitting her from every direction! Let’s see if you can get her flustered!”

The air came to life as air elementals raked her with an onslaught of wind and lightning. But her reaction was like that of a bull being pestered by fruit flies; unimpressed.

“And who is talking to me now, I wonder?’ the titanic demon called through the rising potion mist. “Are you trying to poison me? How adorable!”

That voice sent a chill up Alex’s spine and his instincts spiked, warning him to run for his life. He fought them.

“Claygon!” he called. “I want you to—”

“Alex! Watch out!” Theresa screamed.

There was a blur as something enormous cut through the air for him. He shot to the side, his eyes wide, his heart drummed in his ears.

The enormous war-spear tore by—bursting three of his deflective force rectangles—almost slicing him in two. It flew straight ahead before he felt a surge of teleportation magic, then it vanished in a flash of light, only to reappear in the demon’s hand.

“Oh shit!” The young wizard swore.

“Those make poor last words,” she grinned.

“Yeah, well they’re my last words and I say whether they’re poor or not!” he yelled down at her. “I mean, no, those aren’t my last words!”

“Oho! This one has quite the mouth!” She swept her spear around her, cutting through at least a dozen of air elementals in one stroke. “Always good to have a nice talk when fighting to the death!”

“Ooooh this is bad,” Alex murmured. “I’ll try to keep her off-balance until Cedric gets back in the fight.”

“Same.” Theresa sheathed her swords and drew her bow.

She fired arrow after arrow at the demon, cursing each time one bounced off.

That’s not good. ‘Claygon, blast her with the jewel in your forehead then shoot the water she’s in with the other two!’

Whoooooom!

Three gems had been building in power, and now released their fire-beams. Two struck the water, sending explosions of steam through the air. The third hit the demon’s chest and she bellowed in pain.

‘Yes!’ Alex thought. ‘Now we—Oh.’

The steam cleared…she was completely unharmed.

“I should’ve bloody known,” he muttered.

“Hah!” The creature pointed a pincer at Alex and Theresa, ignoring the wind gusts and lightning. “I always love that look in my opponent's eyes! That sudden shock!”

Alex frowned.

This wasn’t working.

“Theresa, what’re your chances against her?”

“Not great,” she said, her voice frustrated. She shouldered the bow and drew her swords.

“Alright, then I’ll try to even some of those odds.”

He took two of the last three booby-trapped flight potions he had, tossed them to Wizard’s Hands, then sent the spells at the demon as she swept her war-spear through the last of his air elementals. His jaw clenched then released, his hatred for the monster growing by the heartbeat.

Claygon blasted her, flames licked up her body, making her look even more like a walking nightmare. As the fire danced around her, the two Wizard’s Hands flew right past the towering demon, stopping only when they reached her army. Glass shattered, potion-mist billowed out, and puzzled demons sniffed the air before abruptly hurtling into trees, cloudy water, and their leader.

“Agh! What’s this?” She cried, anger finally touching her voice, her own minions collided with her spine.

Alex looked for Cedric, finding the young man on his feet with a glowing hand pressed to his chest, and bruises that were rapidly fading. He was almost back in the fight.

The witches’ trees were on the move, closing in on the giant demon.

Time to press the attack.

‘Now, Claygon!’ Alex reached out. ‘Crush her!’

The golem dove at the demonic leader at the same time Cedric did.

Snarling, she swept her weapon in an arc, pulping minions, then parrying a giant club wielded by an attacking tree.

A twist of the haft sent the club flying from her enemy’s log-like fingers, and a thrust sent the barbed blade slicing into the tree’s trunk, exploding from its back. The animated hardwood was slowed, but still fought on.

It soon began withering.

Wisps of dark smoke bled from its wound, and in heartbeats, the young tree had wilted and shrivelled, until it collapsed onto itself in a pile of rotting bark.

“Ooooh hells!” Alex swore.

“That’s it! Give me a haste potion!” Theresa said, clearly irritated.

“What? You’re gonna go near that thing after that?”

“Not without a haste potion! Toss me one!”

Alex reluctantly threw her the potion, watching as she chugged it and charged at the monster with no sign of hesitation.

The demon leader was cutting through another tree when Cedric and Claygon reached her.

They attacked from two sides, she fought them with supernatural speed, parrying their blows. But now, all was not in her favour. A club struck her ribcage and she reacted with a grunt. She growled when Cedric’s weapon slashed her shoulder, then outright howled when one of Claygon’s fists struck her back.

“That hurt! But, well done!” A pincer snapped a wooden arm from a walking tree, then she whirled on the golem with both pincers snapping.

They surged toward him.

She looked amused for a breath, then growled when his lower hands caught them.

“This can’t be!”

The two titans pushed against each other, neither budging.

Alex didn’t know who was more surprised: her, at something actually matching her strength, or him, at something matching Claygon’s.

She kept struggling with the golem, trying to wrench free. Then his fire-gems flared, hitting her from up-close.

“Argh! A dirty tri—Agh!” she screamed as the Chosen stabbed his spear deep into her side, then she cried out again when Theresa flew behind her with both swords flashing.

The huntress went for the soft flesh beneath the pits of the demon’s lower arms, and her blades bit down, drawing a trickle of black blood. The cuts were shallow, but Theresa kept on them, slashing at the wounds repeatedly, deeping them with each stroke of her blades.

The leader exploded in booming laughter.

Theresa and Alex looked at each other.

“This! This is what I’ve longed for! Months of boredom and finally, some actual fun!” she shook with delight. “Alright then, let’s see what all of you—very determined things—can do!”

Her foot shot up and kicked Claygon back, breaking his grip.

Her war-spear whipped out.

There was a tearing sound.

Clay dust sprayed through the air.

Alex screamed.

A deep gash ran through the golem’s chest.

###

With another slice of his blade, Hart severed the beam-demon’s throat, keeping a tight grip on its face while stifling the sounds of dying. He slowly lowered the creature to the ground and rolled it into a nearby tent.

“That’s twenty,” he whispered, stalking forward like a predator.

He’d been moving through the camp under his ill-fitting disguise, killing anything that was alone, or not in plain sight. As long as he kept his hood down and his distance from prying eyes, he passed for just another cultist with blood on his robes: able to move through the camp and kill at will, and—with so many tents around—it was easy to hide the dead.

Still, he knew it was just a matter of time before somebody or something noticed that folk who should’ve been packing up supplies, had had their souls packed off to the afterworld. With that thought in mind, the Champion had enough time to slit three more throats before the alarm went up.

“Howaln’s dead!” a man’s voice shouted. “Someone slit his neck from ear to ear!”

“Aaaah damn,” Hart muttered, partway through wringing the necks of a demon with two crocodile heads. “Well, it seems the party couldn’t last forever.”

With a final crunch, he broke the demon’s spines, kicked the creature away, then looked around its tent. A large, spiky axe leaned against a chest, seeming to call him to heft it over his shoulder.

“Axe in one hand, dagger in the other, not the most glamorous way of doing business.” He whirled them in his hands. “But, they’ll do.”

Cracking his neck, he burst from the tent.

“That’s right, you filthy freaks! The bogeyman’s here to gut ya!”

With a laugh, he cleaved in the face of a surprised cultist, and stabbed a nearby traitor witch in the neck.

“Come and get dead!” he taunted them.

The stunned cultists could only gape before snapping out of their stupor and springing into action. They grabbed weapons or began casting spells. Demons charged.

The Champion of Uldar leapt into battle like a fish into the sea.