“Come, daughter. There is no time to waste. You know the next move we must make.”

An exhausted Elonia, shaking from an awful mixture of fatigue, despair, withdrawal, and bone- weary exhaustion, her alchemist’s concoctions the only thing keeping her from being incapacitated with nausea and pain, swallowed her too dry throat, drinking deep of the flask of nectar-infused spirit water her mother handed her before nodding.

She flashed a weary smile. “I’ll try, mother. But after the wall...”

Aurelia Silver’s pitiless and impossibly beautiful features gazed into her daughter’s for long moments, until Elonia finally lowered her head, cheeks blazing with shame.

Shame for past mistakes her mother would never truly forgive, shame for territories so savagely and quickly taken by enemies somehow equipped with arcane sniper rifles utterly illegal for anyone but those damned goblins to use… and most of all, shame for not having the strength to hold that barrier until they finally unlocked the key to opening the way to arcane secrets that would have accelerated their growth in ways even her mother seemed eager to explore.

Her mother’s gentle sigh, the way she squeezed her shoulder not with the fierce intensity of a commander expecting better from her troops, but the maternal touch of a woman feeling her daughter’s pain, was too much for Elonia. She immediately burst into tears.

“I’m sorry, Mother! I’m sorry I couldn’t hold it for a even a single second longer. I’m sorry I couldn’t deal with the pressure… I’m sorry I’m so fucking weak!”

And out of all the wonder and horrors she had experienced over the past few months, nothing shocked her more than the feel of her mother’s arms wrapping tightly around her.

“I know, daughter. I know.” Her mother’s hug was surprising and heartfelt, the eyes gazing down into hers so gentle it touched her soul.

“We played for daring stakes this time around, my daughter. So close to victory, yet...” she sighed and shrugged. “Fortuna’s grace is a fickle thing. None know that better than I.” She winked. “And fret naught. The goblins will pay dearly for their interference, that I swear to you here and now, Elonia Silver, lastborn child of mine.”

Her smile sent chills down Elonia’s spine as they raced down a maze of tunnels and passageways of polished stone. “For all acts have a price, my daughter, and those fools cannot comprehend how steep the bill will be. Daring to break accords my clan forged with them, so many centuries ago.”

Elonia gazed at her mother in stupefied disbelief, exhausted synapses slowly putting two and two together, eyes widening in something that would have been horror, had she not been so drained and exhausted that she could barely stand.

“Mother, wait… wait, wait, wait!” She lurched up from the upholstered recliner she found herself lying back on, blinking back stinging hot tears as she finally took in the domed amphitheater she found herself in. “Mother, did you know? The goblins, I mean? That they’d… do that?”

Maternal warmth of a second ago had been replaced by an unfathomably cold glare that froze Elonia where she stood… so dizzy she collapsed back in her chair. “Silence, Daughter. Your part in this is done.”

Elonia gazed at her mother in stupefied disbelief, unable to even say the words screaming in her mind as she stared open-mouthed at the women that had frozen so many to stillness with her glare alone. The fabled Winter Queen of storybook and legend having somehow become the most glamorous of Hollywood stars… and her mother as well. A fearsome Silver so powerful that Elonia could barely even grasp the scale of the woman’s might, already knowing she could single-handedly send all of Earth into another ice age that would last for millennia. Yet her mother was utterly forbidden from even helping her daughter, or her own alliance, as anything but an adviser, general, and sage, whispering so many eldritch secrets that Elonia alone was permitted to hear. No matter how much those sibilant words made her scream, fearing her brain would melt, mindless with pain.

The impossibly beautiful and fearsomely powerful fae queen that had birthed her was now glaring at a theater-sized projection of the dominion interface map, now zeroed in to show a bird’s eye view of the countless thousands of orcs with their god awful artillery arranged against them.

And of course, the handful of goblin snipers that had come so close to killing her so many times, leaving permanent scars on her neck that not even level ups could fully heal, having to pay actual points just to convert their permanently crippling wounds to superficial status, crying bitter tears at the pain, the lost, the terror of near death… as every single ritual spell she tried to cast, magics she had so reveled in feeling course through her body and soul back at Solaris Academy, were cut off. Brutally.

Each and every time.

Assassins outside the grand wall surrounding their portal to a magnificent heavenly city containing so many lost secrets of arcana, just a single mystical key away from opening.

A key they would never get to in time.

Even worse, there were now assassins inside as well.

It was the only thing that could explain how close she had come to death, her guardians taken unawares, her skull cracked open by a high caliber bullet, before she could even release her whirlwind in the shelter of their fortress courtyard.

So perilous was her situation that she dare not attempt even a lesser ritual, or expose herself to the sky at all. Not from the grand spiraling minarets she had once so loved to view the world through. Not even from a safe courtyard.

The goddamned goblins effectively had her in checkmate. Had, in fact, all but claimed her piece from the board almost from the moment the orcs had first begun claiming the territories Elonia had once considered the backbone of her future kingdom.

Her only glimpse of the world beyond had been reduced to the citadel orbs through which she channeled so much of her arcane energy, her life force, the very nectar of her soul, just to buy them a few more precious days before the grand enchantments were ruptured by cannon balls infused with the blood curses of their greatest foes.

Orcs. Savage, brutal, and ungodly stupid. With limited but powerful starting tech, which they used to claim as much of the board as they possibly could early in this grand game of kingdoms and thrones, crushing all resistance before other races could develop champions and arcane advances that would match, and eventually surpass, their might.

A cutthroat early game full of blitzkrieg tactics was a play-style she had always hated and her brother had always adored, whenever they played strategy games with their friends.

Yet they were strategies that worked damn well in real life, she had found, much to her horror and regret.

Elonia closed her eyes, squeezing back fresh tears as the torment of frigid nodules sent spikes of pain through her body and soul, yet another surge of nausea wracking her body.

She flinched with shame, and more relief than she wanted to admit, when the warm sensation of relief flooded through her, cramps and nausea at last beginning to fade, the promise of bliss and the warm cottony feeling of floating away from all regret, all pain, just a few more cc’s away.

Quickness check made!

“That’s enough,” she hissed, her hand squeezed tight the wrist of her caretaker, who immediately eased her fingers from the plunger, slipping it free of her flesh a second later, a single drop of blood beading on the tip of the needle.

Her mother’s hard gaze snapped from the theater screen so clearly depicting their enemies’ devastating barrages of cannon fire to Elonia, glaring at her for long moments.

“Even now, you would deny yourself the sweet release I will finally allow you, when on the verge of losing your kingdom. When you once sought such vices in the arms of the unworthy, with nothing more than a child’s angst compelling you to bitterest folly.”

Aurelia flashed a hard smile when Elonia flinched under her ice-cold gaze.

“Very good, my daughter. Finally you are learning. Dull the pain sufficient to focus. But focus must always be your goal. To forever hone your mind into the weapon it was always meant to be, savoring the boundless opportunities permitted only to minds as sharp as steel. Focused solely upon the pleasures of bettering yourself, and besting your foes. No matter how great the pain of nodes that have yet to properly harden. No matter how sweet the nectar of vices you were such a fool to savor, once upon a time.”

She then saluted a stunned Elonia with her flute of crimson nectar. “Congratulations, child. You are finally growing into the woman you were always meant to be.”

“At the cost of my kingdom!” Elonia said with a bitter sob.

Her mother nodded, taking a slow thoughtful sip of her wine. “Indeed.”

Elonia couldn’t even formulate a response to her mother’s affected indifference to their inevitable deaths at the hands ten thousand brutal monsters armed with an equal number of muskets and far too many cannon. For they were now armed with less than a thousand surviving elven archers and only a handful of Elementalists, most of them nearly as depleted as Elonia was in ways that went far beyond a temporarily drained Mana pool. Especially after all their gambits to crack the riddle of the key failed so miserably. And all their champions picked off by goblin snipers, one by one.

Elonia’s spiraling despair-filled thoughts ground to a startled halt, however, when she found herself gazing at the theater screen in wide-eyed wonder.

Her mother frowned at Elonia’s distraction before immediately spinning around, now was gazing at the screen with disbelief, fluted glass dropping from her hand, as stunned by what she was seeing as Elonia was.

Her brother had finally come home.

“Increase magnification on the boy!” Her mother shouted, an adviser quickly moving to comply.

And there Eric was, wearing exotic armor of crimson scales, riding a massive mount as big as a house.

And the look on his face. Surreal in its unearthly beauty. Radiating an intensity, a magnetism, mother had tried so had to capture when Eric was in front of the camera. And as much as Elonia loved her twin, she was as painfully aware of his limitations as he was. Whatever gifts he had inherited from their mother, it didn’t change the fact that he could never truly become his character. He was a boy playing a roll he didn’t much care for, only coming alive during the combat scenes.

But now he was here, riding to their rescue on a monstrous mount summoned from death’s distant shores. Elonia’s eyes widened as she finally caught a close-up of her brother’s face, after so many months away. Pristine, inhumanely beautiful features kissed by shimmering ruby essence scars so like her own… Elonia could barely swallow the lump in her throat. It was all she could do not to burst in tears.

Her brother had finally come home.

For a brief second, her heart filled with joy.

Before her joy froze to awed disbelief, and mounting fear.

“Mother… that’s Eric. Eric is here!”

Aurelia nodded. “Yes, dear. I know.”

“But mom… he’s charging! What the fuck is he doing?”

Her mother flashed an enigmatic and far too knowing smile. “I believe his going for the artillery, dear.”

Elonia gazed at her mother for long moments. “There are almost a hundred fucking cannons. Cannons claimed by half a dozen Classers that could obliterate him with what amounts to howitzers, and several dozen bronze that could spray shot at him like its nothing. And all the others… are in fucking fortified pill bunkers!”

Her mother flashed a smile that sent chills down her daughter’s spine. Truly worthy of the whispered title ‘Winter Queen’ she heard countless fae referring to her as, with a mixture of reverence… and fear.

“And yet he thinks he has it within himself to take them on. I’m anxious to see just how far your brother has advanced along the Path of Peril. So different a path from the one you yourself walk, lastborn.”

Elonia gazed at her mom in slack-jawed disbelief. “Mom, that’s your son out there. Your son!”

“I know that quite well, Elonia Silver!” Her mother snapped, cool demeanor turning hot in an instant, eyes windows to a soul filled with a storm beyond Elonia’s ken to pierce.

She shuddered and stepped back, bowing her head as her mother’s words washed over her.

“Over the last two days four tiles have slipped from the orc’s clutches, daughter. Three to our Blue acquaintances… and one reclaimed by Lady Arci herself! Her message solidified my suspicions, your brother’s ascendance proof of his potential. And yet not one territory did he claim for himself. Not one! Still declaring himself a Free Agent, of all things.”

Jewel like orbs now matching her brother’s far more than Elonia’s own pinned her where she stood. “Would you happen to know why, Elonia?”

Wordlessly, she shook her head.

Her mother nodded. “Exactly. Now hush, and gather your strength. On the off chance that damned foolish boy actually has it within himself to do anything save stave off the inevitable, best we be ready.”

Aurelai exchanged looks with what was left of her command. Elonia’s command, technically, but she certainly knew the score… the nods she received in turn made it clear they all understood her mother’s unspoken command.

Save for Elonia herself, gazing at her brother on the theater-sized screen with a mix of desperate hope and despair.

Her eyes widened when he summoned forth not one but dozens of massive creatures she had first thought some type of rhinoceros. Only to blink, realizing they were all warthogs, and each and every one of them was the size of a mastodon. Now they were charging lines of cannon, and somehow, much to Elonia’s awe, they were claiming row after row.

To glimpse her brother’s insane charge, moving so fast he actually dodged rapid artillery fire before sending that gunner to his maker left her absolutely slack-jawed with awe.

But to actually see him charge a double platoon of Berserkers, howling as he nobly raced to his death… it was all she could do to resist revealing herself despite all the risks, to throw one final spell that might make a difference… Before being frozen her tracks, unable to escape her mother’s ice cold gaze, for all that her words were gentle enough.

“Just watch, daughter. He’s flanked by twenty of his Greater Revenants. I doubt he’d be such a fool as to lead the—“

“Charge?” Elonia whispered archly when Eric did just that, blinking and wishing fiercely for a pause button to see her brother move so fast he moved like a blazing streak of fire leaving collapsing bodies in his wake, his massive blade of fire all but dancing through the air, slicing through flesh and steel as if he were blow-torching paper dolls.

She gazed in wide-eyed disbelief at the sight of Eric panting, clearly drained of something, as his giant warthogs raced around him, conveniently crushing in the skulls of whoever they hadn’t finished off in the first pass.

“What the hell did I just see?”

She blinked at her mother’s snort, not realizing she had spoken aloud.

“A very good question.” Aurelia turned to what was left of their military command. “What do we know?”

The men paled. “Eric Silver has summoned nearly four dozen Greater Revenants beyond the fiftieth rank in power. He is clearly an extremely talented necromancer. Their race and pedigree are alien to any necromantic fellowship or school that we are aware of.”

A second tactician dipped his head. “His blade is mithril, mirroring the type used by the Feng Ren Sect. His technique is infused with both Wind and Fire Qi, however. I am unaware of any cultivation academy that follows that exact path in this sector.”

Aurelia nodded. “So we know my son walks a path incorporating both necromancy and cultivation, a pairing which is inherently contradictory and should be causing an absolutely absurd degree of backlash. Far greater than anything you have suffered, my daughter. And yet, as is clear to anyone with half a brain, his physical attributes are already far beyond what any standard Classer should be able to achieve by level fifty.” She frowned thoughtfully. “Even Advanced Classers at that level would be hard pressed to match any of the physical attributes I see on display. Not without any number of fortuitous encounters.”

She flashed her daughter an arch smile. “Dare you guess what class he possesses?”

Elonia blinked, shaking her head, still shocked by what she had seen, when a cold jolt of fear shivered through her soul. “Mother! That damned general took notice! Eric took out thirty of his cannon! He’s not going to let it go…” She swallowed, locking gazes with her mother. “He’s advancing. Ten thousand troops. On Eric.”

Elonia shivered at the sight of her mother’s arch smile. “He is indeed. So what do you think you’re brother will do about it?”

She was about to answer when her interface rang with words that made the entire high command break out in anxious whispers, even Aurelia frowning as the words slithered through her soul.

“Surge, centuria! Imperator imperat tibi!”

Aurelia swallowed, gazing at her mother. “Mom… what did he just say?”

Then she lurched back in her chair when a massive shambling mound of slimy slithering ropes of flesh and way too many blinking eyes bulged into being. An abomination possessing a massive mouth filled with vicious backward slanting teeth perfect for gripping prey… with countless roped tendrils whipping forth from the cavernous maw with hideous speed, tearing whatever screaming berserkers had just been playing dead at Eric’s feet, desperate for the chance to slip away.

And her brother was not afraid. He was, in fact, gazing at the monstrous horror with… affection? The same way he had once smiled so fondly at his pet guinea pig.

He then pointed to the gun slits so safely shielding dozens of long guns from arrows and spells Elonia and the others had been trying to unleash to little effect. Not surprising, as their target was over half a mile away.

But that was hardly a hindrance for a nightmare abomination right next to the bunker… with those gloriously hideous braided tongues now whipping into the gun turret slits and tearing out squirming orc and human gunners much like a fisherman reeling in desperately squirming prey at speed that was nothing short of mesmerizing.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Elonia whispered. “My brother’s a fucking necromancer. I mean a real, honest to goodness, badass summoning necromancer!”

Even Aurelia looked a bit surprised. “He’s no basic Necromancer, daughter. That’s beyond even an Advanced Summoner’s purview. Nor would any Adept dare such a feat without several day’s preparation and any number of sacrifices.” She gave a pleased nod. “Summoning abominations like that, even ones stored in an ascendant artifact, is an Elite tier feat. Your brother has achieved a pristine class, Elonia. Your father would be proud.”

Elonia blinked, gazing at her mom in disbelief. “Our father was a Necromancer? And you’re just revealing this now?”

But her mother was frustratingly silent on the subject, her eyes practically glued to the theater-sized screen, and a softly cursing Elonia didn’t blame her a bit.

Not when Eric pulled his next unbelievable rabbit out of his hat…

A rabbit the size of a dozen cannons, both bronze and blackened iron, all of them secured together in a half-moon framework reinforced with scales and fronted with angled pieces of steel.

“How?”

Elonia froze, swallowing as she slowly looked up at her mother, finding her look of surprised disbelief the most wondrous and terrifying thing she had ever seen.

Aurelia Silver. Always competent and on top of any situation. Never flustered, never uncertain, always knowing just what to do. Even when Elonia had stumbled so damned hard, her mother was there. Taking steps… treating it all like an unexpected injury. A setback. Just one more element of Elonia’s life to get back under absolute control.

As much as she loved her mother, she couldn’t deny how incredibly sweet it was to see even her caught slack-jawed by a feat she just knew should be impossible.

A feat that only grew in it’s sheer absurdity when, without the lighting any fuses or black powder flash pans, the air bloomed with flashes of fire and massive plums of white smoke as cannon after cannon fired payloads of shot that transformed countless hundreds of orc troops into meat paste, most especially the platoons of orc berserkers that had been charging Eric and his milling warthogs with the wild-eyed glares of fanatic berserkers.

Until all Eric’s swine had simultaneously shuffled back, revealing the deadly cannon battery Eric had summoned out of nowhere in a matter of seconds.

Yet the slaughter didn’t end with a single pre-prepared volley, Elonia saw to her absolute wonderment. Her brother proceeded to unleash volley after volley of death, with the same gleeful look on his face as when he was absolutely slaughtering his opponents in Duty’s Call, happily using Wallhacker and every other cheat under the sun, the look in his eyes making it clear victory was everything, more than happy to break all the rules to crush his opponents.

Which made him a shitty sportsman, but a damned godsend on the battlefield where victory was everything, and bizarre classes that actually let you pull a full rack of cannon out your ass was a gift worth any number of sacrifices to earn.

She smiled into her mother’s stunned gaze. “So, any idea what class, or what fucking level, my twin brother is at?”

Her mother solemnly shook her head. “Believe me, child. I am at least as eager to learn how he has managed to so perfectly embrace impossibility’s paradox as you are.”

Then she felt it, that cold jolt of dread twisting her gut, gazing at her brother’s unbridled look of sheer joy. A pristine moment of triumph.

Exactly when the goddamned snipers she hated with every fiber of her being would strike.

“Eric!” She screamed with her mind, pouring every iota of will, intent, and sheer desperation she could into her scream, praying her brother would, somehow, know enough to move. To duck.

To not be another victim of the assassins that had come so close to killing her, time and time again.

“Elonia!” her mother hissed, glaring. “You can’t push yourself that way. Not now. Your soul is too fragile!”

“But if I don’t, he’ll die,” she whispered, tears coming to her eyes as the dizziness became overwhelming, surprised and grateful to feel her mother’s cool touch on her brow, easing her back into her chair, the ice-maiden mask cracking for just a second to reveal the worried queen underneath.

“Your brother’s not a fool. His revenants surround and circle him. Protecting him from predators like any herd.”

Elonia swallowed, her relieved smile turning to an anxious gasp when first one, then another, then another boar was hit by flashes of plasma the interface could barely register.

“I was right,” Elonia whispered. “They’re going to do everything in their power to kill him.”

Aurelia nodded, hard-eyed gaze turning to an oddly delighted smile. “My son actually has a brain. Triangulation. Brilliant!”

Elonia frowned, looking from his mother to Eric, who had just slaughtered the remaining orcs in their camp and… yes… raised their bodies, each of his warthogs now carrying multiple undead orcs on their backs, carefully gazing all around with those oddly glowing eyes.

“He gave the orcs to his mounts?”

Aurelia smiled, shaking her head. “Look closely as he dares ride into certain peril once more.

Elonia paled. “I know. He’s actually riding on one of those warthogs again. Being an idiot. He’ll get shot!”

She hissed, heart lurching in her chest when Eric leaped with a speed that astounded her as his mount abruptly lurched, a smoking hole now piercing its side. A flesh wound that didn’t seem to effect the revenant Eric now ran beside any more than that, having failed to hit eye or joint or score any class-associated critical hit. Because the massive warthog clearly hadn’t been the intended target.

Yet Elonia just knew that if it had actually hit Eric… she shook her head, not wanting to think about it.

The her eyes widened as the screen panned out, and she saw Eric’s undead troopers pointing, of all things.

Aurelia flashed a fierce smile. “Triangulate the revenant’s hands. Do so now!”

And in less time that Elonia would have thought possible, after weeks of desperate effort that had led nowhere, endless nights sobbing as her kingdom was slowly carved to pieces by the hands of jackels and snipers… they had done it.

A handful of undead revenants triangulating the origin of a plasma beam shot by a sniper goaded into firing… and Elonia was now gazing at a clump of leafless trees, one of many such stands utterly unworthy of notice… finally seeing the scurrying movement underneath.

“Magnify.” Aurelia’s voice hissed with a siren intensity that captivated even Elonia’s focus, the officers present quickly dialing in the screen until blurred movements of shadow became the frustrated snarls of a trio of goblins she could see.

For the first and only time since Elonia had been struck by their deadly beams, she could actually see the scaly yellow skin of her would-be executioners, the ugly snarl of scarred features glaring with hate at the world as they chittered and gestured, and Elonia had absolutely no idea how they managed to make such deadly use of the pair of weapons that were longer than they were.

But that didn’t matter. Didn’t matter as she got her first good look at her would be killers, noting their camouflage armor or that the spotter with his oversized binoculars was equipped with no weapon save a short, snub-nosed blaster. All that mattered was that she had seen her foes. She knew their faces! Her enemies had finally been revealed!

Aurelia solemnly handing her a vial filled with fluorescent-blue liquid. “You know what you must do, my daughter.”

Elonia froze, licking her lips, her gaze meeting her mother’s. “But I thought you said this was…” She chuckled ruefully, shaking her head. “You’re right. The ritual needs to be cast. We need to make sure these little fuckers can never ever sneak up on us, ever again!”

She chuckled softly. “Thousand point ritual, here I come.”

“Wait, my lady!”

Aurelia cursed.

Elonia froze with the flask just touching her rosebud lips, eyes widening in absolute drop-jawed shock at what she saw.

“Are you serious? After all that… after all we went through… Are you fucking kidding me?”

Elonia didn’t know whether she wanted to laugh or cry as she saw one goblin hiss and sniff the air, before looking right up at the sky, at a spiritual globe that should have been utterly beyond his sight, and give a furious hiss.

Glaring right at a shaken Elonia with his hate-filled serpentine eyes, as if he could see her right through their tactical interface map.

Before his head exploded in shower of crimson gore.

The two goblins next to the headless corpse now spurting blood from its neck stump stared in stunned disbelief as the body slowly toppled from the branches. They exchanged terrified looks, right before the closest one lost its right arm in a spray of bloody mist.

The remaining goblin with both head and limbs still attached quickly jumped off with what Elonia was sure were panicked screams, though she could hear nothing. Nothing at all as she stared for long moments at the desperately racing pair of goblins, one slowing as blood spurted from its arm stump, trembling to its knees as it struggled with some kind of patch.

Before being sent flying into the air as one of her brother’s massive warthogs sent it soaring, Eric himself coldly lining up a shot on the final fleeing goblin… with the same oversized sniper rifle that the goblin’s used. A weapon that looked more than capable of blasting holes through tanks.

She flashed a bleak smile. Because sure as shit, even if tanks were no longer a thing, those bastards were finally getting a taste of the same hot death they had used to kill so many of her elite troops and prevent her from casting a single ritual spell for months. Since the very moment her foes had committed to their blitzkrieg offensive, snatching nearly every single one of her territories and so effectively crippling her own faction at every turn. All thanks to multiple squads of assassins that had no place on this world, and all of them specialized specifically in Mark II Deathblaze sniper rifles that were outlawed from all newly ascended realms for very good reason. Because of course, those bastard goblins had found a backdoor.

And as her mother had made clear, they always did.

Only now, by some miracle, her brother had managed to claim one of those plasma rifles, and was now using it against her would-be killers to shockingly lethal effect.

“I can’t believe it,” she said, with a tearful smile as the third goblin fell to the ground with a neat hole in its chest. “It’s actually over. Eric did it. It’s actually over!”

She blinked in surprise, however, when Eric didn’t stop there. With a cold-eyed glare she dreaded ever being on the receiving end of, he raced forward and lashed out with his mithril blade, transformed once more into a six foot long jet of liquid flame, and she didn’t know why he was abusing already savaged bodies.

It seemed so wrong. She wished he’d stop.

Before seeing his brother lurch back when a sneering and very much alive goblin stabbed his foot, of all things with a spike of some sort.

Just a heartbeat before his head went tumbling through the air.

Elonia paled and swallowed when her brother cried out, eyes wide with fear she never expected to see, pulling a long silvery spike from his naked foot. And why the hell he wasn’t wearing boots, she couldn’t fathom.

But she still stumbled back when he cut off his own foot.

“Eric!”

Her mother’s hand clamped her wrist. “Goblin assassins use a Bronze tier poison with that spike, daughter. A toxin so illegal that even their perks won’t protect them from retribution, if they dare to use it on the job. But as a retributive death-blow… it’s allowed. Since death is coming for them either way.” She shook her head. “Even if my son’s Vitality is at a hundred… it could have all too easily killed him.”

“But his foot!”

Elonia’s eyes were glued to the image of her brother’s features. As movie star handsome as their mother could want, and just as hard and cold as Aurelia had always wanted him to look on the screen. Now aiming his oversized sniper rifle back at the broken corpse flopped like a broken doll on the muddy ground, a single long pull turning the goblin’s skull into superheated paste.

But that wasn’t what had Elonia gripping the armrests of her recliner. “Mother. His foot! How the… is he a healer as well?”

Even Aurelia looked impressed as the bleeding stopped almost immediately, Eric’s foot budding and reforming in less than a minute’s time.

Elonia gazed at her mother for long moments. “Just what the fuck is my brother’s class?”

Before Aurelia could formulate any kind of answer that would explain her son’s extremely odd, utterly contradictory, and surprisingly effective collection of powers, the screams and distant shouts she could now hear all to clearly, along with the alarms blaring through their compound, made it clear that their brief respite was at end.

It didn’t matter that her brother had taken out nearly a hundred cannons with a company of dinosaur-sized revenants and abominations. It didn’t even matter that the assassins had finally been taken out, one squad anyway, long after they had successfully sabotaged countless rituals and desperate attempts to break free of the ever tightening noose.

All that mattered was that their final defense had been breached, and countless thousands of orcs were now pressing the advantage, storming the break in the wall to flood the courtyard and extinguish the last Sylvan stronghold on Earth, once and for all.