With his allies—his friends—so close to Fitch, Hiral focused all the force of the blow straight down on the Infested. No Expansion or Impact, just the Rune of Gravity tethered to the center of Fitch’s chest.

The Emperor’s Greatsword met the Spear of Clouds and Fitch’s sword with enough momentum to shatter an island. Some small part of Hiral winced at the collision—Will this break the spear?—but Fitch was far too dangerous to hesitate against. And the Spear of Clouds was also a legendary, S-Rank weapon. As if in defiance of Hiral even considering the weapon would break, solar energy lashed along its length, runes lighting up and sparking against Hiral’s sword.

Like he’d used his Rune of Time Dilation, the world around Hiral slowed as the spear’s Rune of Connection thrashed energy across his hands. In that frozen moment, he witnessed some of the spear’s memories. The woman who’d forged it and tamed the skies with it in her hand, binding a primal storm dragon within the weapon in the process. The countless battles that had come after as other Progenitors vied for control of the world, only to band together against a common foe. Then… nothing. A gap where the spear slept, only to be found by the Progenitors’ distant descendants.

More battles, and the return of the same foe the spear’s original owner had fought against. More losses. A chance to save the children. A desperate plan. A fierce battle. Old, kind hands, and another long sleep. Blood and broken wood where it was stolen from its resting place, and the fury of being used by the thing it hated.

And… within it all… a voice calling out. Faint, but calling, calling, calling.

Calling… Hiral’s name…

The ground cracked at Fitch’s feet as time returned to normal speed. Crevices spread in every direction, while his bashed-in knee gave out below him. Driven down, the ground further cratered, and the Infested fought to hold Hiral’s glowing sword at bay. Almost simultaneously, like a second hammer-blow driving in a nail, the force trailing Hiral’s fall caught up at that moment, throwing back Seena, Seeyela, and Right.

Fitch’s face creased with the effort of stopping Hiral’s strike, and for the long blink of an eye to Hiral’s Atn, it looked like he’d succeed. Then his elbows shattered, the bones snapping like twigs while his muscles twisted so hard the flesh ripped around them. Down went the spear and sword, Fitch shifting his head to the side just in time to avoid getting brained, instead taking the greatsword in the shoulder.

The tentacle there glowed to repel Hiral’s weapon, but there was too much force behind the strike, and it split like an overcooked sausage. Parting skin and bone as easily as paper, the Emperor’s Greatsword bit deep into Fitch’s chest, passing his shoulder, chopping through his ribs, destroying internal organs, obliterating…

WHAAAAM! Something hit Hiral from the side so hard he didn’t even see it coming. Suddenly he was flying through the air, his own right arm broken, and he hit the wet ground only to bounce. Once, twice, three times, he careened and rolled across the slippery stone before finally coming to a stop. Well, his body stopped, but his head was still spinning from the blow. Beneath him, his right arm screamed in pain, and he tried to shift off it, but he was holding something in his left hand and couldn’t push himself up.

Ah, still have the greatsword.

Even realizing that, he couldn’t seem to bring his fingers to let go. Instead, sword still glowing, Hiral drove it into the ground and awkwardly sat up. A quick look at his health in the Party Interface showed himself at half, but High-Speed Regeneration+ was already going to work.

Even his broken arm should…

Owwww!

The bones rearranged themselves—along with his flesh and muscles—at a somewhat alarming pace. And though the ability was healing him, it wasn’t doing anything for the pain.

“That hurts,” he said, wincing against the agony and standing.

“Told you not to get hit,” Seeyela said over the party chat.

“Technically, you said kicked or stabbed.”

“Fine. Add tentacle-smacked to the list.”

“Fitch?” Hiral asked, but his head finally stopped spinning enough for him to see the Infested standing in the crater Hiral had driven him into.

Even as Hiral watched, the tentacles wrapping the Infested’s arms and legs flexed, forcing the limbs back into their proper shape despite the mangled joints. The tentacle on his shoulder pushed itself together, then flashed like it was cauterizing the cut. Blood continued to ooze from the garish wound running down Fitch’s chest, but it hardly seemed like it would slow the man down.

Right was there a second later, and Fitch turned to look at the same time a flaming fist caught him on the jaw. WHAAMMMOOOOSH! The blow hit like a gong, followed by a horizonal column of purple flame. Staggered to the side, Fitch took the next punch in the gut, which lifted him from the ground and bent his body around Right’s arm.

The double drew his arm back so quickly Fitch was left hanging in the air. Then he snapped his hips around for a vicious circular kick that sent the Infested bouncing and skidding along the ground to the side of the crater.

Swooping overhead on wings of blue flame, Left shaped a tattoo and then hurled the resulting spear-like manifestation at Fitch. Purposely missing by a few feet, an ominous black banner snapped in the wind.

The Banner of Despair’s black aura expanded into a dome fifty feet wide, and even the rain falling within seemed to take on a sense of hopelessness and loss. With the banner in place, Left reached to his wrists and shaped the paired Daggers of EnSath. Liquid trailed the weapons as the double dove at Fitch, and a line of purple flame followed Right as he rushed ahead.

Hiral, whose arms were now back under his control, likewise charged at the black dome. They had to put Fitch down before he could recover enough to fight back. Green and red flashes signaled the two sisters had the same plan, and by the time Hiral arrived, the other four were already engaged with their opponent.

Spear, sword, and tentacles flashing, Fitch was doing his best against the assault, but he was finally starting to accumulate wounds across his body. While the Infested was slowing, Hiral and his party still had plenty left to give. A little more. Just a little more!

Hiral joined the fray, greatsword so light it was a flashing blur as he swung, but it was also coated with a powerful layer of Separation. Down, left, overhead, he attacked and danced around the others. Using his higher Dex, he constantly shifted to try and hit Fitch’s blind spots. The damn tentacles still seemed to be almost everywhere, but the pulsing green venom within them made them noticeably slower.

The Spear of Clouds, on the other hand, didn’t slow at all. If anything, it was speeding up, powered by Fitch’s supernatural strength. In his other hand, the tentacle-wrapped sword whipped through the air, catching Seena across the shoulder, batting aside Seeyela’s daggers, and drawing thin lines across both of Right’s thighs. Even with the minor cuts, the party didn’t slow, instead continuing to push their own limits—and Fitch’s.

Seena, with burning-red heat sparking within her small injury, charged in close again, spinning fireballs within her palms. The previous injuries she’d inflicted on Fitch had only partially healed—the flesh around his stomach was still torn and stretched, and tentacles swooped in to stop her. Almost eagerly, she threw herself at the limbs getting in her way, more chunks of the solid solar energy getting carved off with every pass. Dodging a downward smash, she leapt at the tentacle and slammed both her hands together with the appendage in between. A wet whirring, and the limb spun off.

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Having had enough of that, Fitch shifted his focus and lashed out with the Spear of Clouds.

WHOMP! Hiral deflected the first stab with a powerful swing of his own S-Rank weapon, then the second, third, fourth, and fifth attacks as well. The two weapons blurred and struck at each other, solar energy spitting off every contact. Hiral pushed the blade—and his runic control—as hard as he could, speeding up the greatsword with every strike. The air around him filled with afterimages left by the sword’s fallen-star form, and he constantly shifted the weapon’s weight so every swing would hit differently. Heavy, light, heavy, light, heavy, heavier, light.

Despite the two weapons’ relatively equal power, Hiral was slowly gaining ground with his improved mastery. And that wasn’t all. The forced melee was pulling Fitch into the Chord of the Primal Echo. It wasn’t enough to control or predict the man’s movements—yet—but each weapon strike brought the beat closer in line. Just another few seconds, and Hiral would have his opportunity.

Not that Seeyela and the others were letting Fitch’s distraction go to waste. The Fangs of the Lady had managed to score two more deep wounds along Fitch’s arm and leg, while Left had combined his two Daggers of EnSath into a single watery weapon similar to a Sho-Val. The double attacked Fitch like a waterfall, the two blades constantly spinning and leaving their own explosive trails. Every tentacle that got in the way was blasted aside, and it only took Left a few seconds before he knocked them all away and drove his weapon into Fitch’s side.

Another explosive exit of water pressure blew out a fist-sized hole just above Fitch’s hip. With a follow-up attack already coming, the man turned slightly to parry with the Spear of Clouds, simultaneously bringing his sword around to delay Hiral.

The Chord practically rang like a gong at the opening, and Hiral poured power into his runes. Energy flared the edge of the blade while Gravity reduced the weight to almost nothing, drastically increasing the blade’s speed. Separation coated the edge, and Rejection behind the blade practically launched it around.

Fitch caught the increased speed out of the corner of his eye even as he blocked Left’s attack, trying to snap his own sword across faster.

The music in Hiral’s ears finally lined up perfectly, an exact overlay with the world around him. The sounds of the Shaper battle became the percussion. The howling storm, the wind instruments. The flow of Hiral’s party was the strings.

He twisted his wrist at the last second, altering the direction of his weightless sword, then slammed the blade against the inside of Fitch’s incoming wrist. Flesh, bone, and tentacle were no match for the cutting prowess of his weapon, and Fitch’s hand—along with his sword—spun off into the rain, severed.

Blood fountained out in an arc as the man’s arm continued like it didn’t know part of it was missing. A second later, Fitch screamed and lashed out wildly with the tentacles on his back. Ignoring the wounds he took as he did it, he pushed the party back a step, then slammed the Spear of Clouds straight into the ground at his feet.

The blade punched into the earth at the same time the tentacles across Fitch’s body flared like the noonday sun. Power washed off him in a wave that stole the breath from Hiral’s lungs, and the man screamed again. Hiral and the others staggered back another step from the sheer volume of it, and Fitch’s glow only increased.

The same buff the Infested in The Buried City used. It drastically increased his strength. Is it going to be the same…?

Fitch was suddenly right in front of Hiral, the Spear of Clouds coming around in a blur. Hiral got the Emperor’s Greatsword in line to parry, but even with the increased weight, he was the one who got knocked back. And Fitch was already on top of him with the weapon spinning in his single hand. One, two, three, four, five slashing cuts Hiral managed to parry, but a backhand with the spear’s haft finally got through and crunched into his chest.

Ribs broke like kindling as Hiral got knocked back, but he somehow managed to get the sword back around to turn aside Fitch’s next thrust. Then, before a second could follow it, Left and Right closed in from both sides. Power glowing in the night, the doubles held nothing back as they battered at Fitch. Right’s fists slammed into the man’s chest and chin, while Left scored a hit that tore a chunk of meat off Fitch’s thigh.

The Infested didn’t even flinch. Once, twice, he slammed the butt of the spear into Left’s forehead, then the blade into Right’s stomach. Both doubles staggered back, only for a spinning sweep of the Spear of Clouds to slash across each of their chests. Solar energy bled from their wounds in a torrent, though both doubles refused to fall.

With a bamf, Seeyela appeared behind Fitch and drove both her Fangs deep into his shoulders. Again, he hardly seemed to notice, instead jerking the spear in and then over his shoulder. So fast the woman didn’t even have time to react, the crystal blade caught the front of the Seeyela’s helmet and sent her tumbling away in a spray of blood. Not even bothering to take the daggers out of his shoulders, Fitch whipped around and clotheslined Seena in the chest with his handless arm.

The two fireballs gouged another chunk out of his upper arm and chest, but it was Seena who hit the ground with a pained grunt.

“Mistress!” Li’l Ur shouted, floating protectively above Seena as Fitch stepped over her and lifted the Spear of Clouds above his head.

Solar energy flooded into the weapon, lighting up all its runes with absurd levels of power. The blade shimmered as Separation honed the edge, and a line of Connection stretched down to the center of Seena’s chest, exactly where Fitch would thrust the spear.

Time slowed to a crawl as Hiral activated his Rune of Time Dilation, but he was dozens of feet away and could barely even take a breath through his broken ribs. Fitch’s strength had to be close to the A-Rank range with the buff, though he’d completely forgone any sort of defense. Almost like some kind of berserker rage… but it was easily overpowering the party.

Hiral looked at Seena, her eyes wide at the spectre of death poised above her. Off to her side, Seeyela sprawled on the ground, one hand clutched to the faceplate of her armor where blood mixed with the rain. Right crouched on one knee, solar energy pouring out of his stomach and chest wounds, but he hadn’t been dispelled yet. Left was in slightly better shape, though the blow to the head had dazed him, and his Daggers of EnSath had faded.

Neither of them would be able to get to Seena in time to save her.

What… What could he do?

Hiral’s head pounded as time demanded to be unpaused, but he pushed back against the pain. If he let time move, Seena would die. Fitch would run the spear straight through her heart, and there was nothing he could do about it. He—they—needed help. They needed…

“…al…” a whisper on the wind said. Or was it his imagination? A hope somebody would rescue them?

“…ral…” it said again.

That… couldn’t be his imagination. But where was it coming from? None of the Shapers were close enough, and it wasn’t one of the party members…

“…Hiral…” It said his name clearly.

His eyes snapped to the Spear of Clouds and the Rune of Connection. To that single strand that extended down through the ground with lightning arcing within.

No…? Could it be…?

“Hiral!” the voice called—demanded.

Time slammed into the back of his skull like a sledgehammer, punishing him for holding it in place so long. Whatever the voice was—salvation or imagination—Hiral was out of options, and he reached out with his own Rune of Connection.

As soon as the two strands touched, Hiral pushed as much solar energy out as he could. That break in concentration broke his hold over the Rune of Time Dilation, and the storm raged around him again. Thunder boomed in the sky while tremendous lightning cascaded into the haft of the Spear of Clouds at the same time Fitch brought it down.

A flash—Seena!—and Hiral had to turn away.

When he turned back, a cage of lightning arced around his party leader, Fitch, and the spear he’d thrust for her heart.

For, but not through.

Somehow, beyond all reason, a third person crouched within the raging lightning. Electricity ran along his scaled armor, and one hand held the spear’s blade firmly in place inches above Seena’s chest.

“Fitch, that’s my friend you’re trying to skewer,” Yanily said.

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