"Spencer, halt!"
Aster's command cut clean through the rush of wind.
The horse skidded to a stop at the edge of the clearing, hooves digging into dirt. Aster slid down, chest heaving, and lifted his gaze.
The goblin camp sprawled before them like a wound in the earth.
Crude tents stitched together from hides and stolen cloth ringed the clearing. Fires burned low and greasy, smoke crawling upward in lazy spirals. Laughter echoed everywhere, sharp and ugly, bouncing between clanging metal and gnawing teeth.
It wasn't just a camp.
It was a village.
Goblins swarmed the area in numbers far greater than before, dragging loot from recent raids. Cracked chests, torn banners, sacks of grain, jewelry still smeared with dirt. Some lounged around the fires, chewing noisily. Others shoved prisoners forward, chains rattling as frightened villagers were forced to kneel.
Aster's stomach twisted.
"There are more…" he muttered.
Two additional chiefs stalked the perimeter, massive silhouettes pacing like bored predators. And in the center of it all, raised above the rest—
A throne.
Made of skulls.
Seated upon it was the Head Chief Goblin.
It was enormous.
Bigger than any orc Aster had ever faced. Its body was a fortress of muscle and scar tissue, veins pulsing beneath greem black skin. Each breath expanded its chest like a bellows. One hand rested on a weapon so heavy it cracked the ground beneath it.
"That thing…" Aster whispered. "It could tear six full grown men apart without breaking a sweat."
The goblins snarled suddenly, chattering among themselves in sharp, guttural sounds. Their attention snapped toward the clearing's edge.
The surviving chief staggered in.
Bleeding. Broken. Desperate.
For a heartbeat, Aster thought it might be spared.
Then the Head Chief rose.
The earth trembled.
With a roar that rattled teeth, it seized the wounded chief and tore into it without hesitation. The sound was brutal and final. As the body fell limp, something shifted.
The Head Chief grew.
Muscle bulged further. Its presence swelled, power rolling off it in waves that made the fires flicker and bow. The goblins howled in approval, slamming weapons against the ground.
Aster swallowed.
"…Ruthless," he said quietly. "At least orcs care about their own."
Nikolai's expression didn't change, but his eyes darkened.
"In goblin hierarchy," he said calmly, "status is everything. Strength is law. If you're weak, you don't survive."
His chains stirred faintly, reacting to his intent.
Aster tightened his grip on Everanth, eyes locked on the throne of skulls.
"So," he murmured, a sharp edge creeping into his voice, "how do you want to do this?"
"We lock ourselves in."
Aster stiffened, shock flashing through him, but he did not argue. He trusted Nikolai.
The mages moved instantly, slipping behind them and chanting in unison. Mana flared, threads of light weaving together until a barrier snapped into place, sealing the battlefield shut like a clenched fist.
"As they trap us," Nikolai said calmly, "Elodie and I will make it rain."
"Rain what?" Aster tilted his head, confused.
Before Nikolai could answer, the air buckled.
Immense mana surged forward.
Nikolai moved first.
He clenched his fist and yanked downward.
"Come forth."
The ground split open. Chains erupted from beneath the earth, lashing outward with violent precision. They did not only seize goblins. The iron links swept past them, wrapping gently yet unbreakably around the bound villagers, tearing them free from cages and posts, pulling them out of harm's reach in one powerful motion.
At the same instant, Elodie stepped forward.
She raised her hands, light spilling from her palms like liquid dawn. A vast protective barrier bloomed into existence, enveloping the rescued victims as they were dragged free, sealing them inside a cocoon of warmth and safety before the goblins could react.
"Mirage," she whispered.
Her form shimmered and vanished, illusions rippling outward across the battlefield.
Aster felt it then. A quiet pressure settle around him, unseen but absolute. Elodie had extended the protection to him as well.
The air shifted again.
Nikolai's aura surged outward, sharp and electric. Aster's hair lifted as thunder rolled overhead, deep and hungry.
Nikolai's voice cut through the storm, calling a name that sounded like a tectonic plate snapping.
"Caelum."
Above them, the churning clouds did not simply part. They ruptured.
A singular link of celestial iron tore free from the heavens, blazing with terrifying auric heat as it hurtled downward. It struck the ground at Nikolai's feet like a falling star. Stone exploded. Grass flattened for fifty yards in every direction. The impact thundered through bone and soil alike.
Blinding white light poured from the tear in the sky.
Nikolai stepped into it without hesitation.
He reached forward, fingers closing around a grip of cold blue steel, and with a guttural roar, tore the weapon free from reality itself.
As it emerged, its true form revealed itself.
The sickle blade was forged from deep, translucent cobalt, less metal than crystallized night, as though a fragment of the midnight sky had been sharpened into a crescent. Along its spine ran veins of polished sun-gold, etched so deeply they seemed alive, pulsing like a nervous system carrying divine intent.
Then came the chains.
Golden links poured from the rift behind the blade, hissing with static, writhing as if eager to strike. Each link was a work of royal contradiction, a storm-blue Damascus steel core encased in mirror-bright gold, strength and splendor bound together.
The clouds sealed shut above him.
Silence followed.
Nikolai stood at the center of shattered earth, weapon in hand, chains coiled at his feet like obedient beasts.
Even the goblins had gone still.
Before the night could even breathe, light screamed through the darkness.
A spear of radiance punched through a goblin's skull.
Then another.
And another.
They fell in rapid succession, bodies collapsing before their screams could form.
Aster watched, stunned, as the light struck with divine precision, one after another, never missing its mark.
"Elodie…" he whispered.
She was nowhere to be seen, yet everywhere at once. From unseen angles, her magic rained down, clean and merciless, thinning the horde with surgical calm.
The ground trembled.
The Head Chief roared and charged.
Nikolai stepped forward to meet it.
He swung Caelum in a wide arc. The chains screamed through the air, colliding with the massive stone baton. The impact sent a shockwave rippling outward, cracking the earth beneath their feet.
The goblin swung again, faster than its size should allow.
Nikolai twisted aside, chains snapping tight as Caelum hooked around the creature's arm. With a brutal pull and a sharp turn of his wrist, the blade bit deep.
The arm tore free.
The Head Chief howled, rage fueling it further as it lunged with its remaining strength, smashing the ground where Nikolai had stood a heartbeat before.
Nikolai didn't retreat.
He advanced.
Meanwhile—
Aster tightened his grip on Everanth and charged.
Two Goblin Chiefs turned toward him, tusked faces splitting into cruel grins. One swung low, the other high. Aster ducked, rolled, slashed left then right, dark mana flaring as Everanth sang through the air.
He landed a solid strike across one chief's chest.
The other slammed him aside.
Aster skidded across the dirt, breath knocked from his lungs, but he forced himself upright, eyes sharp, stance ready. He rushed them again, dodging a crushing blow by inches, driving his dagger into a joint, twisting hard.
The chief roared and grabbed him.
Then the second joined in.
Their combined strength lifted him off the ground.
Aster gasped as hands closed around his throat, feet kicking uselessly in the air. His vision blurred, stars bursting at the edges.
I can't die.
His thoughts burned, frantic.
Not here. Not like this.
I faced a dragon before.
I faced...
The world slammed back into him as one of them hurled him downward.
He hit the ground hard, pain exploding through his ribs.
"No!" Nikolai shouted.
Across the battlefield, Nikolai abandoned caution.
The Head Chief swung again, but Nikolai cut straight through the attack. Caelum's blade flashed, chains tightening as he severed the creature's head in one merciless motion.
He turned instantly toward Aster.
Too slow.
The two remaining chiefs raised their weapons for the final blow.
Then
"Whither."
The word was not spoken aloud. It crept through the air, cold and final.
The goblin chiefs froze.
Darkness crawled across their bodies like rot accelerated by time itself. Their roars turned to choking silence as flesh crumbled, armor rusted, and bone collapsed inward.
In moments, there was nothing left but drifting ash.
The ground beneath them blackened, cracked, decayed.
Silence fell.
Nikolai reached Aster's side just as the last motes faded.
Aster was on one knee, breathing hard, Everanth clenched in a white-knuckled grip. He looked up, eyes burning, alive.
Nikolai exhaled sharply.
They both stood there for a moment, bent over and panting, the battlefield finally quiet except for the distant crackle of fading magic.
Elodie rushed to Aster's side, light gathering in her palms as she knelt.
"You've broken a rib," Nikolai said, his voice tight as he looked him over.
"Well," Aster coughed, forcing a crooked grin, "I'm used to it."
Nikolai's jaw clenched. "I shouldn't have dragged you here. You were already hurt. You almost—"
He stopped himself, worry and dread written plainly across his face.
Aster reached out and caught his hand.
"Hey. I'm okay." His grip was weak but steady. "I'm just keeping my side of the deal. You can't exactly have a dead fiancé."
The tension drained from Nikolai in a slow breath.
"Even when you nearly die," he muttered, "you still have the nerve to joke."
Then, quieter, sincere, he added, "You did well."
Aster smiled faintly.
"You didn't thank me when I helped you back at the clearing," Elodie said, her tone light as healing magic flowed over Aster's ribs, knitting pain back into bearable warmth.
"Shut up," Nikolai snapped, turning away.
Elodie smirked.
Nikolai was blushing.