Bud moved ahead of Corvin to meet the quickly approaching inquisitor.

Hump felt Abraxus’ hold over him slacken as the man’s focus went to fighting the two knights. He pulled himself back to his feet with his staff, unable to hide the worry from his face. They had to hurry.

Bud’s sword blazed with Frostfire. Flame burst from his feet, trailing behind him, essence building around him. He exploded forward in an inferno, surging toward Abraxus on his new blessing. His sword was extended, its point aimed at spearing Abraxus.

The inquisitor didn’t react how a wizard should. He didn’t retreat. He didn’t raise a shield. He didn’t blast Bud back and create space. Moving quickly, he caught Bud’s blow with his staff, easily meeting the knight’s strength despite the momentum behind the attack. Redirecting it to the side, he threw Bud off balance and pressed him against the wall, holding him in place with just one arm.

At the same time, Abraxus extended his left hand toward an advancing Corvin and made a claw. “Mage Hand.”

A blue hand formed around Corvin’s ankle, grabbing it hard. Abraxus heaved, the hand moving with him, dragging Corvin’s leg out from under him and sending him to the ground. Pressed against the wall, Bud’s face strained as he tried to push the inquisitor off, Heart of Frostfire turning the air around him to pale blue. His Frostfire erupted in Abraxus’ face, but the man’s Armour of Essence resisted the attack.

Corvin tried to swing at the Mage Hand around his ankle, but Abraxus hauled him up again, this time throwing him against the wall. Corvin crashed to the ground with a heavy thud, armour shaking, the knight crying out in pain.

Bud roared, his Frostfire blazing even brighter, blue flame bathing the hallway in Kelisia’s power. Ice crystalised on the walls and ceiling around him. Finally, Abraxus’ Armour of Essence started to give, patches of it fading away beneath the icy cold. He stepped back suddenly, kicking Bud hard in the knee and dropping him.

Abraxus drew back his black staff and raised it over head. The focus shone with pure blue essence. “Essence Smash.”

Light streamed from the staff. He swung at Bud’s head.

In an explosion of darkness, Patrick appeared behind him. Shadowy tendrils exploded from both hands, latching onto Abraxus’ arms. Patrick leaned back, pulling on them like the reins of a horse, catching Abraxus’ blow before it landed. He held the inquisitor’s staff in place, shouting as he fought against his strength.

It was enough to hold him in place. An arrow struck Abraxus in the side of his head, deflecting off his shield spell but creating a hole in the weakened ward. Emilia appeared in a flash beside him, a boom of essence sounding at her speed, red light escaping her feet in a shockwave. She stabbed—her rapier was a blur—a red line that pierced straight through the gap of the reforming Armour of Essence. Her blade struck, and for a moment Hump felt like they’d caught him off guard.

Abraxus jerked his head back, shouting in pain. He staggered back, revealing a layer of stone like scales at the point of contact. Blood welled from the wound, but it was hardly enough to slow him down. He snarled as he shoved Emilia with his left hand, a flash of yellow bursting from the point of contact. “Jolt!”

She fell back in a burst of lightning, screaming as she hit the ground, sparks rising from her body as she rolled, her weapon fallen to the side.

Corvin was on his feet again now, charging forward at Bud’s side while Patrick hindered the inquisitor’s movements with shadows. Together, they pushed him back. Arrows rained in, taking away any chance he had to go on the offensive, preventing his Armour of Essence from fully reforming. Emilia struggled back to her feet, looking to re-engage.

Hump was trying to find his opportunity too, but in the cramped hallway their numbers meant little. His essence was ready, but there was nowhere he could strike without risking a hit to his own companions.

Our goal is the tree, not Abraxus. Focus!

They were distracted. If they kept fighting here, it was only a matter of time before more reinforcements arrived and then whatever slim chance of success they had vanished. Even if they could beat Abraxus, it wouldn’t matter.

Hump turned his back on the fight against the inquisitor, looking toward where Dylan, Krenton and Emery held the warlocks at bay. Dylan and Krenton were a wall of healing auras and defense that the warlocks had yet to pass, and wherever they slipped up, Emery met their foes with wind and fire. It was an effective trio in the doorway to the hall beyond, but the warlocks on the other side were powerful too. Hump could only make out three of them now—two in plate armour, and a third fighter with a sword and buckler. He seemed to be the leader.

“Celaine, we need to break through,” Hump said. “There isn’t time to fight Abraxus. You see the man with the buckler? Can you take him out?”

She followed his eye then nodded. “I can do it.”

Hump approached Dylan quickly, coming to a stop beside Emery.

“When the moment comes, we break out through the door,” Hump said.

“What moment?” Emery asked.

“It’ll be obvious.”

Hump felt the deadly intent of Celaine behind him—an instinctual fear that he couldn’t help. He squashed it ruthlessly and focused. A bowstring snapped behind him, and the arrow shot forward in a dazzling display of silver edged with shadow. It struck true, piercing the warlock straight through his heart and coming out the other side. The man’s eyes went wide. He staggered back, dropping his sword and buckler. Beside him, the armoured fighters glanced his way and backed up a step. Hump glimpsed fear beneath their helmets.

That was all Dylan needed.

“Forward!” Dylan roared. The giant of a man charged out of the doors and into the hallway beyond, towering over the two warlock knights before him, his Aspect of the Bear appearing over him. He battered the warlocks back, his vines grabbing at them as they tried to retreat, hammering at one with his staff while Krenton buried his mace into the head of another.

An arrow came from the left, catching Dylan in the side of his torso. He grunted.

Hump followed its path to where two archers and what looked to be a wizard specialising in air stood by a set of twin doors, a panicked discussion taking place between them. One nocked another arrow.

Before they could shoot again, Hump barked, “Shield.”

A wall of essence formed before him. The arrow struck it, falling away easily. From the strength of it, Hump put the archer’s strength somewhere around Rank 2. A practitioner—a warlock most likely—but not a true threat. The three retreated through the doors before he could retaliate.

“You okay?” Hump asked Dylan.

The druid pulled the arrow in his side free with a shout, the wound healing before Hump’s eyes as both Krenton’s and Dylan’s auras worked together to heal the wound.

“I’m fine. We need to get the others out.”

Hump turned to see Bud, Corvin, and Emilia on the retreat. He couldn’t see Patrick at all now, but the back of the hallway was bathed in shadows—he’d take that as a sign he was okay. Celaine and Kesha had stepped out into the main hallway with them.

Hump aimed his staff, tendrils of bronze essence lashing out at the ground, burrowing deep. “Explode Earth.”

The ground erupted at Abraxus’ feet, but the inquisitor dodged backward, avoiding the attack but not the cloud of dust that coated him. The others reached the doorway.

“Hump, take your party and go,” Corvin shouted. “Get to the main hall. We’ll hold him here.”

“Hold me?” Abraxus laughed, the cloud of dust clearing. His cloak billowed around him. Chains expanded around him, visible once more, moving like additional limbs. “Hold me how?”

Hump gritted his teeth, but he saw no other choice. “Good luck.”

“And you,” Corvin said. “Krenton! We don’t let him through this doorway.”

The cleric came to stand beside him, the two men blocking the passage, Kesha and Emery at his back. Patrick somewhere beyond. Hump crossed his fingers it would be enough, and then turned back to their own objective.

“Let’s go.”

“How many warlocks are left?” Celaine asked as they advanced through the hall.

“Three retreated through those doors,” Dylan said. “There could be more.”

“I don’t think they’re particularly strong,” Hump said. “Either there’s more of them, or they don’t think the tree needs the guards.”

He didn’t like that idea. Hump could feel the tree’s presence stronger now. He felt it in the air around him, in the ground beneath his feet, a constant, pulsing, ebbing flow of power. It poured in through the cliff, so rich in energy it made it hard to focus. The other Trees of Damnation had struggled to defend themselves, but they’d been a fraction of the size.

They reached the doors unimpeded. Behind them, Abraxus and Corvin’s party were fighting, the sounds of their battle filling the hallway.

Dylan directed two of his vines forward, opening the twin doors and revealing the main chamber of the House of Stone within. They were near the meeting room where they’d been made to wait when Countess Daston had come here demanding Vivienne’s release, and not two dozen paces ahead of them, the Tree of Damnation towered to the sky. The roof had collapsed around its thick trunk, filling the chamber with rubble. The bark was dark and wrinkled, its roots bulged around the base of it, erupting from the tiled floor like arteries. Through them, dungeon essence poured in, giving power to the great rift in its trunk; a dark void to wherever these warlocks and monsters had come from.

It was both awe inspiring and terrifying at the same time. Staring up at it, Hump didn’t even know where to start. It had seemed giant from outside but standing this close to it he felt like an ant. An ant with a phoenix feather. The thought didn’t fill him with confidence.

No. Keep it together. Wood is wood—it’ll burn just the same.

On the ground around the tree lay the bodies of dozens of Temple Guard and workers of the House of Stone. Worm-like roots wrapped their bodies, pierced their skin, protruded from their flesh. Either the tree’s way of consuming them or turning them into its thralls.

To the right, the entire wall of the House of Stone was in ruins, giving them a clear view of the battlefield and the extent of the destruction. The Sheercliff defenders still held their line, but fires had spread throughout the Upper City. With the containment field gone, there was nothing left to keep the invaders at bay.

“Have courage,” Bud said, stepping into the chamber.

Hump followed him, essence at the ready, searching for enemies. For the warlocks that had retreated, and whatever other trap might lie in wait for him. Nothing stirred. The chamber was still.

Hump glanced through the destroyed wall toward the Shrine of Osidium, sensing something in that direction. Something powerful. Something that made his blood run cold. He had a clear view of it over what remained of the destroyed buildings ahead. Light erupted from the shrine in a giant bronze ring. For a moment, there was nothing. The world became overwhelmed by silence. A beacon of bronze shot to the sky from the shrine, a pillar of power even greater than the god pillar of Kelisia. The power of Osidium himself.

The ground shuddered and Hump braced against his staff. It didn’t stop. It only grew worse. And then the sound of a hundred avalanches erupted. It was all Hump could hear. A deep, echoing crack vibrated through the ground. So loud, he screamed instinctually. He fell to the ground, pressing his hands to his ears.

When the rumbling slackened, Hump stared toward the Shrine of Osidium once more. Toward the battlefield. His mouth fell open as the shrine vanished, falling away to the ground below. The cliff was swallowed up, a gaping hole expanding inward. Houses collapsed, roads vanished. Sheercliff was split in two.

Osidium’s own creation had been destroyed in less than a minute.