The deeper they went into the Bone Warren, the more the air changed.
It no longer smelled merely rotten. The stench had thickened into something greasy and wet that clung to the tongue and crawled into the lungs. The tunnels sweated crimson slime. Veins of dull red light pulsed through cracks in the stone like diseased arteries buried beneath flesh.
Kael followed behind Lyra in silence, still marveling at the transformation she had used on herself.
The Shape-Borrowing Art.
Peria's version had always looked playful and dreamlike, layers of illusion floating over reality like painted mist. Lyra's was different. Brutal. Efficient. One breath, one shift of Vitae, and her entire spiritual presence folded inward and came back wrong.
Now she walked ahead of him in the form of a skeletal soldier, her movements perfectly matching the dead things surrounding them. Even the faint aura of corpse-energy leaking from her body felt authentic.
Kael lowered his voice.
"So it really was the Shape-Borrowing Art. Damn... yours is far more terrifying than Peria's."
The disguised skeleton turned its skull slightly toward him.
"The Shape-Borrowing Art is far more than simple disguise," Lyra said calmly from beneath the illusion. "There are applications you cannot even imagine yet."
Kael's heart immediately began itching with greed.
"Shreve... that day you didn't teach me the whole thing, did you?"
"Of course not."
She answered it so casually it almost offended him.
"The art is vast. What I taught you was merely the entrance gate."
Kael clicked his tongue.
"Then when are you teaching me the rest?"
"Not now."
Her voice sharpened slightly.
"Finding the Source Pools matters more."
Kael muttered under his breath, but he obeyed.
The disguise worked even better than he had expected. As they moved through the tunnels, scattered undead patrols passed them several times without suspicion. Skeleton soldiers clattered by carrying rusted halberds and baskets filled with chunks of bloody flesh. Twin-headed guards stalked through side corridors with enormous blades resting on their shoulders.
None of them looked twice at Lyra.
Or at Kael walking beside her.
The deeper they traveled, the fewer skeletons they encountered.
Kael noticed it quickly.
"There are way less of them than before," he whispered. "Looks like the Bone Legion really did empty the nest to attack Mirekeep."
"Do not relax," Lyra answered.
They entered a massive tunnel broad enough for siege wagons to pass side by side. The walls here were smoother, more deliberate. Ancient chisel marks cut through the stone.
Kael's eyes brightened.
"I know this place. The blood pits are ahead."
Lyra slowed slightly.
"Yes. I can feel it."
Even through the disguise, her tone changed.
"The dark power here is much stronger."
They advanced toward the end of the passage.
Then the tunnel opened.
Kael stopped cold.
The cavern beyond looked like the inside of hell.
Dozens of enormous blood pits bubbled across the chamber floor, each one filled with thick crimson sludge boiling like molten meat. Pink steam drifted upward in rolling clouds, and inside the blood, shapes kept surfacing before sinking again.
Heads.
Arms.
Half-melted torsos.
Human organs tumbling through the slurry.
Kael's stomach twisted.
Around every pit stood groups of black-robed skeletal sorcerers clutching twisted staves and chanting dark rites. The blood within the pits churned violently as naked crimson skeletons slowly rose from the bubbling gore.
Blood Variants.
Freshly made.
The newborn undead climbed out of the pits one by one, slick with clotted filth. Streams of red slime poured from their ribs and jawbones as they staggered toward waiting sorcerers, who carved symbols into their skeletons with hooked blades before beginning another round of corruption.
Kael felt genuine nausea crawl into his throat.
"So this is where they make them..."
His voice came out low and hard.
Lyra scanned the chamber carefully.
This cavern was different from the others.
Far more heavily defended.
Twin-headed skeletal swordsmen stood guard around the pits in organized formations, each monster gripping a massive black greatsword taller than a man. Patrols of skeletal halberdiers constantly marched through the chamber from adjoining tunnels.
The entire place crawled with guards.
Kael bared his teeth.
"Bastards kept this many guards behind?"
His fingers flexed eagerly around the hidden handle of the Eight-Claw Flamescourge.
"Good. I was starting to miss the fun."
Lyra ignored him.
Her gaze kept traveling upward.
Kael followed it.
High above the cavern ceiling hung an enormous circular stone embedded into the rock overhead. Only part of it was visible, yet the exposed section alone stretched wider than a fortress wall. Its surface was unnaturally smooth and carved with ancient Ward-Script patterns.
"Shreve," Kael whispered, "what are you looking at?"
"I'm thinking about how to destroy this place completely."
Kael blinked.
He looked back up at the giant stone.
"What's strange about it?"
Lyra narrowed her eyes.
"Look carefully."
Kael focused harder.
At first he saw nothing.
Then—
Movement.
The massive stone was rotating.
So slowly it was almost impossible to notice. Like a mountain turning by the width of a grain of sand.
"It's moving," Kael admitted. "So what?"
Lyra remained silent for several seconds.
"I need to think."
Kael forced himself to stay quiet.
By now his admiration for her had risen to almost frightening levels. Lyra saw things nobody else saw. Formations. Mechanisms. Hidden structures inside structures. Every time she spoke seriously, it felt like another veil peeled away from the world.
Finally, she spoke again.
"I understand."
"Understand what?"
"The Dread Mire is above us."
Kael frowned.
"Well... obviously. This entire cave system stretches beneath the swamp."
Lyra shook her head slightly.
"That stone is a mechanism."
Her eyes remained fixed on the rotating slab overhead.
"It converts the pressure of the swamp water into primal force. That force powers the main Source Pool of the Grief-Binding Array. The Source Pool then feeds hundreds of subsidiary pits throughout the Dread Mire."
Kael stared at her.
Lyra continued quietly.
"That is how they sustain the animation of four hundred thousand dead soldiers without exhausting themselves."
Kael felt his scalp prickle.
The scale of it was monstrous.
Not merely evil.
Brilliant.
"Those undead freaks actually built something like this..." he muttered.
Lyra exhaled softly.
"It's genius."
For the first time since entering the Bone Warren, genuine admiration touched her voice.
"I couldn't understand how a formation this large maintained itself. Not until now."
Her gaze sharpened further.
"The one who designed this mechanism was no ordinary artificer."
Kael swallowed and looked back up at the rotating stone.
Then his eyes widened.
"If that thing powers the entire array..."
Lyra nodded faintly.
"The answer lies there."
Suddenly the realization struck him fully.
His grin spread instantly.
"Then we smash it."
Excitement surged through him.
"If we destroy that mechanism, the Grief-Binding Array loses its power source. The Bone Legion collapses!"
Lyra added calmly:
"And once the stone breaks, the swamp water above us should pour into the cavern."
Kael nearly laughed aloud.
"Yes!"
His pulse thundered.
"Flood the entire damn nest! Maybe the old monster will even retreat from Mirekeep to save this place."
The more he thought about it, the more insane and beautiful the plan became.
"This could break the siege entirely."
"Perhaps."
But Lyra's voice cooled him immediately.
"Destroying it will not be easy."
She glanced toward the guards below.
"There are too many defenders. And destroying the mechanism itself will require considerable power."
Kael cracked his knuckles.
"Then we clear the room first."
"If we waste our strength fighting here," Lyra asked evenly, "how exactly do we destroy the mechanism afterward?"
Kael opened his mouth.
Then shut it again.
Damn it.
She was right.
He began thinking furiously.
Lyra finally said:
"If someone could lure the guards away... I could destroy the mechanism alone."
Kael answered immediately.
"I'll do it."
She looked at him directly.
"This is the center of the Bone Warren. Once you move, every tunnel may fill with undead. You could be trapped between pursuers and barricades."
Her gaze lingered on him.
"Can you survive that?"
Something hot surged through Kael's chest.
That look.
That tiny hint of doubt.
It stabbed directly into his pride.
"Of course I can."
His blood heated instantly.
"Just watch me."
For a moment Lyra seemed hesitant.
Then she nodded once.
"Fine. Draw them away."
She pointed subtly toward the ceiling.
"If I succeed, the floodwaters will consume this place quickly. Do not return here afterward. Run for the exit and keep running."
Kael frowned.
"What about you?"
"Leave that to me."
Her voice remained completely calm.
"I have my own methods."
Kael rolled his shoulders and circulated his Vitae.
"I'm starting now."
Lyra suddenly raised a hand.
"Wait."
She stepped closer.
Even beneath the skeletal disguise, her presence felt overwhelming.
She lifted slender fingers and formed several rapid seals. Soft yellow light gathered at her fingertips. She traced symbols through the air before Kael's forehead, chest, abdomen, and lower stomach.
The glowing symbols sank into his body one after another.
Warmth spread through him instantly.
Then the yellow glow abruptly shifted into brilliant violet lightning.
Lyra traced another series of symbols across his shoulders, navel, sternum, and lower core.
Kael blinked as heat pulsed beneath his skin.
"What did you just do?"
"I placed the Tempest Ward on you," Lyra answered.
She lowered her hand.
"And the Flashstep Art."
Kael felt the difference immediately.
The air around him seemed thinner.
His body lighter.
Power vibrated through every muscle.
"For the next half hour," Lyra said, "weapons will struggle to touch you, and your speed will double."
Kael grinned fiercely.
"Now that's more like it."
"Do not waste the time."
Her tone sharpened again.
"And do not allow yourself to be trapped in this cavern."
Kael nodded once.
Then he moved.
He exploded upward like a launched arrow, soaring straight toward the nearest group of skeletal sorcerers beside a blood pit.
The Eight-Claw Flamescourge screamed from his sleeve.
Fire erupted.
The whip crashed across one skeletal sorcerer with enough force to lift the creature completely off the ground before hurling it into the boiling blood.
The undead shrieked once.
Then dissolved.
Bone melted instantly inside the crimson sludge.
Two more skeletal sorcerers jerked in alarm, black light gathering around their staves as they began casting.
Too slow.
Kael twisted midair.
The Flamescourge roared outward in a blazing spiral.
"Dragon Sweeps the Four Seas!"
The flaming whip smashed through both sorcerers at once, igniting them instantly. Burning skeletons collapsed backward into the blood pits.
The cavern erupted.
Twin-headed skeletal swordsmen charged from every direction, enormous blades rising overhead.
Four reached him first.
The monsters moved with terrifying coordination, giant swords slamming downward from four angles at once.
Kael touched the ground—
—and vanished.
The Flashstep Art sent him streaking sideways like lightning. The blades crashed into empty stone.
Kael laughed.
Gods, he felt fast.
The Tempest Ward wrapped around him like invisible armor while power surged through his limbs. Every movement flowed perfectly. Smooth. Effortless.
His whip lashed out left and right.
Two swordsmen staggered backward under the impacts.
Kael twisted his wrist.
The Flamescourge coiled around the neck of another skeletal guard. Using the whip's binding force, he hurled the creature bodily into the fourth swordsman charging from behind.
Both monsters crashed together in a heap of bone and rusted armor.
The entire exchange lasted barely a heartbeat.
Kael's eyes widened slightly in surprise.
He felt incredible.
"Lyra's arts are insane..."
More swordsmen rushed him.
Twenty.
Thirty.
Kael charged directly into them.
The Eight-Claw Flamescourge became a spinning firestorm. Burning arcs tore through the cavern while skeletons shattered and flew apart beneath the relentless assault.
Blades occasionally slipped through his defense—
—but every time steel came within inches of his skin, the Tempest Ward distorted the attack away as though invisible walls surrounded him.
Kael roared with exhilaration.
"Come on, you piles of shit!"
He fought like a man drunk on violence.
For a few glorious moments, he completely forgot the actual mission.
Then something black drifted toward him through the chaos.
A tiny flame.
Dark as ink.
Floating gently through the air.
Kael barely noticed it before it touched his shoulder.
Pain exploded instantly.
He grunted sharply.
The black fire burrowed into flesh like molten poison, burning straight toward the bone.
Kael spun violently.
A skeletal sorcerer stood at the edge of the battlefield with its staff raised.
The Tempest Ward could deflect weapons—
but it did nothing against sorcery.
Rage flooded Kael instantly.
He lunged across the battlefield in a streak of motion and unleashed a brutal barrage with the Flamescourge. Fire swallowed the skeletal sorcerer whole, smashing the creature apart in a storm of burning bone fragments.
Then Kael suddenly felt something wrong.
The muscles around his shoulder tightened violently.
The pain spread toward his chest like invisible claws twisting beneath the flesh.
Dark rite contamination.
His expression hardened.
He immediately circulated his Vitae to suppress it.
At the same time, he caught sight of another patrol rushing toward the cavern—skeletal halberdiers flooding through one of the side tunnels.
Too many.
Kael finally remembered the plan.
"Right. Lead them away."
He sprang backward out of the melee and dashed toward the edge of the cavern. Without slowing, he picked a random tunnel and shot inside at full speed.
The undead army surged after him.
Swordsmen.
Halberdiers.
Skeleton soldiers.
The tunnels thundered with clattering bone and furious shrieks as the horde poured after their target.
Within moments, the gigantic cavern became strangely quiet.
Only a handful of shaken skeletal sorcerers remained behind near the blood pits.
Then something blue exploded through the darkness.
A blur.
Fast as lightning.
One skeletal sorcerer collapsed before it even realized it had been attacked.
Then another.
And another.
In the span of a breath, more than ten skeletal sorcerers were smashed to the ground by the sudden blue figure that had appeared from nowhere.
The last skeletal sorcerers scattered in blind panic.
Unlike the mindless lesser dead, these creatures still carried scraps of hunger, fear, and self-preservation. Their empty jaws clattered as they fled between the blood pits, robes whipping behind them.
They never made it far.
Blue lightning flashed across the cavern.
One skeleton exploded apart from the waist up.
Another had its spine crushed before it could even raise its staff.
A third tried to cast some dark rite and got grabbed by the skull. The giant blue hand squeezed once. Bone shards burst from its eye sockets.
Lyra Farrow moved through them without mercy.
The Stone Colossus towered beside her in its true form now, a massive blue-crystal giant whose body glowed with crackling veins of stormlight. Each step shook the cavern floor. Its fists smashed skeletal sorcerers flat like rotten gourds.
The remaining undead tried to run.
Thunder-fire swallowed them.
Within moments the cavern fell silent except for the bubbling of the blood pits.
Lyra swept her gaze across the chamber one final time. No hidden movement. No lingering Vitae fluctuations. Nothing remained alive down here except the two of them.
Good.
With a flick of her sleeve, the Stone Colossus dissolved into streams of blue light and vanished back into its holding seal.
Then she strode toward the enormous circular stone embedded high in the cavern ceiling.
That was the lock.
Or one of them.
Her eyes narrowed.
The entire Bone Warren had been built beneath the lakebed of the Dread Mire. Destroying the Source Pools alone would cripple the Bone Legion, but if she could break the upper seal too—
The entire underground fortress might drown.
Lyra inhaled slowly and rose into the air.
Her robes drifted around her as she floated upward until she hovered several feet beneath the giant stone disk.
Then she lifted both hands.
Soft wind flowed from her palms.
At first it looked harmless. Gentle. Almost delicate. Like a cool night breeze passing over still water.
But the instant the currents touched the stone, the surface began to rot.
Not crack.
Rot.
The enormous seal darkened from within as invisible force burrowed through it layer by layer. Ancient ward-lines hidden inside the stone flickered weakly before collapsing into dust.
The air itself started whining.
Lyra's expression remained calm.
This was one of the highest forms of the Lesser Four-Sign Art.
The Heavenly Calamity Wind.
A silent storm capable of corroding steel, grinding mountains apart, and hollowing living flesh from the inside out.
The giant stone trembled.
Dust rained from above.
Far overhead, somewhere beyond hundreds of feet of earth and rock, the waters of the Dread Mire pressed against the weakening barrier.
Lyra's eyes hardened.
"Break."
---
Kael sprinted through the tunnels like a hunted animal.
Lyra's Flashstep Art surged through his Channels, lightning-like force driving speed into his limbs. Every leap carried him twice as far as normal. Wind screamed past his ears.
Behind him came the endless clatter of bone.
The horde was still chasing him.
Good.
That meant fewer enemies near the Source Pools.
Kael cut through another tunnel intersection and vaulted over a pile of broken skeletons. The deeper sections of the Bone Warren felt strangely empty now. Most of the patrols had clearly been deployed toward Mirekeep.
That should've made escape easier.
Instead he was getting more lost by the second.
He glanced around wildly while running.
No landmarks.
No fresh air.
No exit.
"Damn it..." he muttered between breaths. "Don't tell me I ran deeper inside."
The tunnels twisted like a maze carved by lunatics. Every passage looked the same—wet stone, old bones, foul black slime, the stink of corpse smoke.
Another fork appeared ahead.
Kael slowed sharply.
Three tunnels.
Two narrow.
One massive.
He wiped sweat from his brow and forced himself to think.
Big undead needed big passages.
Which meant—
"The exit has to be the large one."
At least that sounded reasonable.
He bolted into the widest tunnel.
The passage curved sharply several times before suddenly opening toward a gigantic doorway ahead.
Kael's heart leapt.
Light.
Open space.
"By every god listening..." he breathed. "Please let that be the way out."
He lunged through the doorway at full speed.
And immediately dropped.
His stomach lurched.
The ground vanished beneath him so suddenly his mind blanked. He crashed downward, hit a steep slope hard enough to nearly break his ankles, then stumbled wildly another dozen steps before finally managing to stop.
Kael looked up.
And froze.
His face went white.
He had fallen into an enormous funnel-shaped pit.
Platforms circled the upper edges of the cavern like execution stages. Upon every platform stood skeletal sorcerers holding black staves.
Dozens of them.
No—
Over a hundred.
Kael stared upward in horror.
"...You've got to be kidding me."
Cold sweat rolled down his back.
But even that wasn't the worst part.
A strange rasping sound came from behind him.
Slow.
Heavy.
Breathing.
Kael turned.
And saw the dragon.
It lay coiled in the darkness like a mountain of blood-colored bones.
A skeletal dragon.
Massive beyond reason.
Its ribs rose and fell with corpse-light pulsing inside the hollow cage of its chest. Crimson flames burned deep within its eye sockets. Broken chains hung from its neck like execution restraints.
Lord Ossian's mount.
The Skeletal Dragon.
And Kael stood less than thirty feet away from its skull.
For one impossible moment, neither moved.
Then one of the dragon's eyes rotated toward him.
The corpse-fire inside it brightened.
Kael's soul nearly left his body.
"Oh, hell."
---
The walls of Mirekeep shook again.
Another wave of undead poured onto the battlements.
Hook-bearing climbers swung enormous hooked poles across the walls, tearing open gaps in the defensive lines while skeleton archers hidden behind axe-wielding guards launched volleys of ghostfire arrows into the defenders.
Men screamed as green flames stuck to flesh and armor alike.
"Push forward!" officers roared over the chaos. "Kill the bastards! Retake the wall!"
The Iron Maw Legion surged back into the breach.
They were elite heavy infantry of the Twin-Light Empire, veterans hardened through years of war in the Dread Mire. Their massive tiger-faced shields were thick enough to stop ordinary arrows and lined with brutal iron studs meant for smashing skulls apart.
But the undead were perfectly designed to counter them.
Long hooks dragged soldiers out of formation.
Ghostfire exploded across shield lines.
The battlements descended into chaos.
Then one of the Bone Towers struck.
High atop the grotesque siege giant, skeletal sorcerers raised their staves together.
The massive skeletal arms of the tower swept sideways with thunderous force.
Crunch.
Dozens of Iron Maw soldiers vanished into red paste.
Blood, shattered armor, and organs sprayed across the walls.
Mira Stonwell flinched pale at the sight.
Rovan Ashford did not.
"Fire!"
The Earthrend Arbalest unleashed another explosive roar.
A massive Warding-Vase Bamboo bolt screamed across the battlefield and struck one of the Bone Towers directly in the head.
This time the range was close enough.
The impact detonated the tower's skull apart.
Bone fragments exploded outward like artillery fire. The six skeletal sorcerers hidden inside the eye sockets died instantly.
Without guidance, the gigantic undead construct staggered sideways and collapsed against the walls of Mirekeep in a catastrophic avalanche of stone and bone.
The battlements shook violently.
Cheers erupted.
"We got one!" Mira cried in disbelief. "We actually got one!"
The undead noticed the threat immediately.
A formation of axe-wielding skeletal guards smashed through the fighting lines and charged directly toward the Earthrend Arbalest.
Rovan watched them come with icy calm.
Then he raised one hand and made a strange signal.
A fresh squad of Iron Maw soldiers rushed forward from reserve positions.
These men were different.
Huge.
Broad-shouldered.
Each wore a red cloth tied around the helmet. They still carried the heavy tiger-faced shields in their left hands, but their right hands gripped vicious spiked clubs instead of swords.
They formed tightly around Rovan.
The young marquis produced a Ward-Script between two fingers.
His lips moved rapidly.
Then brilliant white light erupted outward.
The light struck every red-banded soldier at once.
For several breaths their bodies glowed pale white.
Then the change began.
Muscles swelled beneath armor.
Veins bulged along exposed arms like twisting worms.
Their bodies trembled violently under the surge of power flooding through them.
Yet their eyes became colder.
Sharper.
Predatory.
These were already elite warriors chosen from among the Iron Maw Legion.
Now they became something worse.
Battle monsters.
Rovan lowered his hand.
The red-banded soldiers exploded forward.
They hit the skeletal guards like charging wolves.
Their attacks were brutally precise. Shields slammed into spines. Spiked clubs crushed vertebrae apart. Every strike targeted the few weak points capable of truly disabling undead bodies.
The skeletal formation collapsed almost instantly.
The empowered Iron Maw soldiers smashed through them without slowing and continued directly into the hooked climbers and skeleton archers beyond.
Bone fragments flew everywhere.
The defenders roared in renewed fury and surged after them.
For the first time since the siege began, an entire section of the wall was reclaimed.
Cheers thundered across the battlements.
Morale surged upward like fire catching dry wood.
Even the women of Vane's Summit watching nearby couldn't help feeling impressed.
"Those soldiers are insane," Mira said, eyes wide. "The undead couldn't even stop them."
"It's the Ward," Sylva Dreyn answered quietly. "I've heard Elder-Uncle Aldric created battlefield Ward-Scripts called the Warlord Series. They can increase strength, defense, speed—even morale. Some affect only a few feet. Others can cover entire battlefields."
Her gaze followed the fading white glow around the red-banded soldiers.
"The one Rovan used just now should be the Lesser General Ward."
Mira stared openly in admiration.
"That's incredible..."
Auryn Gale suddenly looked westward.
Her golden eyes sharpened.
"Another tower."
Far across the walls, a second Bone Tower slammed into the battlements, hurling stone and soldiers into the air.
Isara Ashvane spoke immediately.
"Go assist them. Kill the skeletal sorcerers inside the skull first."
Auryn nodded once.
Then golden light exploded around her body.
She vanished across the battlefield in a streak of pure gold.
Mira watched with naked envy.
"The Gilded Stride..." she whispered.
But Selene Voss suddenly pointed upward in alarm.
"There!"
Everyone turned.
Dozens—no, hundreds—of flying skeletons swept across the sky.
Winged Skeletons.
Silver armor covered their bodies while mechanical crossbows hung in their arms. They dove toward the battlements in organized attack formations.
The defenders panicked instantly.
Heavy infantry were not equipped for aerial combat.
Scattered arrows rose upward uselessly before being overwhelmed by storms of bolts raining from above.
The Winged Skeletons fired continuously while circling in the air.
Even when defenders managed to land hits, the undead barely slowed unless their skulls or spines were destroyed outright.
Zaeli's face drained pale.
"We saw those things before... on the island..." she said shakily. "They were the first ones through the main hall."
Mira clenched her hands nervously.
"They're armored, fast, and attacking from above. The soldiers can't hold against this alone—"
Before she could finish, one enormous winged undead commander descended like a meteor.
It swung a massive skull-headed flail glowing silver.
One strike.
Two.
Three.
An Earthrend Arbalest shattered into splinters.
A squad of Iron Maw soldiers charged bravely toward it under their officer's orders.
They died instantly.
Bolts scythed through them like wheat.
One soldier got pinned directly onto the ruined arbalest frame by a heavy bolt through the chest. His limbs twitched helplessly for several moments before finally going still.
Selene lowered her head sharply.
Zaeli gagged beside her.
Even veterans of the Dread Mire struggled to stomach scenes like this.
"We need to move," Isara said quietly.
She had just begun leading the others toward the western wall when rapid footsteps approached.
Rovan Ashford arrived at a run.
His face was grim.
He dropped to one knee before Isara.
"A report just arrived. A massive undead assault has struck the northern hills. I ask to reinforce that position immediately."
The northern hills.
Emerald Rest.
The only section outside Mirekeep's walls.
Mira inhaled sharply.
"You didn't leave it undefended, did you?"
Rovan answered instantly.
"Eight hundred Iron Maw soldiers and three hundred Demon-Breakers from Dawnbreaker Hold were stationed there."
"And they're still losing?" Sylva asked.
Rovan's jaw tightened.
"There are two giant undead creatures attacking the position. And skeleton-spiders."
Selene's breath caught audibly at the last words.
The memory clearly hit hard.
"If that line breaks..." Sylva murmured grimly.
"The city gets surrounded," Rovan finished.
Then he lowered his head further toward Isara.
"So I have no choice but to ask for your help."
Isara studied him for a moment.
"And this side?"
Rovan turned his gaze back toward the swarming Winged Skeletons darkening the sky.
"We can still hold for now."
A long pause.
Then Isara nodded.
"We move."
The women of Vane's Summit immediately followed her across the battlements toward the north.
As they departed, Rovan suddenly spoke again.
Quietly.
"Be careful."
Mira's heart jumped.
She looked back instinctively.
Rovan was staring directly at her.
Heat spread across her cheeks so quickly she almost stumbled. Embarrassed, she hurried after the others without another word.
Only after they had run far across the walls did she finally dare glance back again.
And froze.
Golden light was exploding upward behind them.
Something gigantic rose slowly into the air above Mirekeep's battlements.
Massive golden wings spread wide against the blood-red sky.
The creature looked part lion, part scorpion, armored in shimmering gold.
The defenders erupted into deafening cheers.
The Golden Wing Scorpion.
Rovan had finally used the Golden Wing Scorpion Ward.
Mira suddenly felt cold for reasons she couldn't explain.
If he had been forced to summon that thing...
Then the battle was becoming truly desperate.