Chapter 68 - Chapter 69

At sunrise, Koh had appeared to brief the slaves about the new weapons. By the time the spy had left, everyone was very excited, seeming ready to break their way out of the cell with their bare teeth.

"Knock it off!" Felt said sharply. "Listen! We need to stay focused! We have one chance of pulling this off! There is no do-over. We need to be focused and we all need to know exactly who is doing what and when!"

The others all stared at Felt in shock, at this tiny girl who had silenced the room.

Garfiel cleared his throat. "OK, shrimp. What are we doing?"

Felt took a deep breath. "Alright. I've unlocked all your manacles. So that gives us an advantage right there. Make sure that you keep them on until I give the signal. Surprise is our only advantage here so we need to use it wisely. Hopefully, the guards will let us grab the weapons without ever realizing that they 've been switched. If the guards get suspicious, I'll signal everyone. That's when we attack the guards with whatever we've got."

"What we've got is nothing," Willa pointed out.

Felt sighed. "Look, if they feed us the same thing as yesterday, it'll be porridge served in cheap bowls. Gramps taught me how to make a shiv out of pottery."

"You know, your life makes so much more sense now, shrimp," Garfiel observed.

"Eat me, fleabag," Felt said as chuckles rang through the room.

I could almost thank Garf for saying that. It released some of the tension in the room.

"Baagh," Felt continued. "You've seen 'shows' like this before right?"

"Many times," Baagh nodded. "I've even seen this exact same war game performed once or twice."

"Koh said that we'll be defending a fort. Will that be a real fort or just something imaginary?" Felt asked sharply.

Baagh shrugged. "If it's anything like the reenactments that I've seen, it will be a real building. It's sturdy for a prop, but it is just a prop. They use the same fort for a variety of games in the Vollachian coliseums. "

Felt frowned. "Can you describe the fort to me?"

Baagh scratched her chin. "It's a large box with a sizable courtyard inside. Battlements on the outside but they're only about twenty feet tall."

"So they'll use ropes or maybe ladders to get over the side?" Garfiel asked.

Baagh shrugged. "If necessary. Lots of groups forget to even seal the gate in the first place. And frequently in these kinds of games, the gate is opened by a betrayer."

Garfiel blinked. "Why?" He asked in disbelief.

Baagh scowled. "Some condemned prisoners think that it's their best chance left. After all, they'll die anyway. If the Emperor is in a good mood, he might order the betrayer to be freed. If he's in a bad mood, he'll order him to be rewarded as a traitor deserves: tortured to death," Baagh said with a sneer.

Felt began to grin. "Alright. I think I know how to play this. Listen up," She said to everyone. "After we get the weapons, we'll head out into the arena just like we're supposed to and we'll take our positions inside of the fort. Gramps told me that it's always easier to defend a place than attack it."

"A wise man, your grandfather," Baagh said appreciably.

"Eh," Garfiel gave an ambivalent shrug. "Hold that thought until after you've met him."

"Shut up, fleabag, before I shave you," Felt said.

"Hey!" Garfiel protested over the slaves' laughter.

"Listen. There are going to be more than two of us for every one of them," Felt said.

"Lots of shows work that way," Baagh murmured thoughtfully. "It's supposed to be more impressive when the heroic gladiators break in and destroy the vastly superior forces."

"It'd be impressive if we both had weapons," Garfiel grumbled.

"Focus," Felt snapped. "Look. According to Koh, we'll be dealing with Captain Smite and a handful of his guards. These guys definitely know how to fight and they'll be good at it. But we're also expecting more than half of these slots to be filled with spoiled young noblemen looking for a game. We'll eat them for lunch."

Felt drew a box on the dirty floor. "We'll take up positions here, at the rear of the fort and on the battlements above. At first, the 'heroic' folks playing the Vollachians will charge right at us. There's no reason to hang back or be afraid of unarmed enemies so they'll come right at us. That means we can hold our ground inside the fort and let them come to us. Once they enter the fort, the people on our battlements can just jump down behind them and we'll have them in a box. We'll turn them into dog meat on the spot. Who here thinks that they know how to fight?"

A dozen men raised their hands, including Garfiel and Baagh.

"Alright. You guys will take up positions at the rear of the fort. The 'Vollachians' will be coming at us hard. We need to hold them back until the people on the battlements can get into the fight. Once we trap them, the fight is over. Nobody can fight from both sides."

"You think we'll kill them all that way?" Garfiel asked skeptically.

"We couldn't be that lucky," Felt sighed. "But I'm hoping that we can kill most of them this way. They'll be shocked when our weapons actually work and that will translate into several seconds when we can attack them while they're still panicking and confused. If I was Smite and his men, I'd hang back and let the kids go in first. For one thing, they'll enjoy the fight more. And for another, those guys are probably seasoned enough not to walk into a trap even if they think we're not a threat."

"Excellent strategy!" Baagh grinned. He slapped Felt on the back, nearly breaking her ribs. "You'd be a fine asset in the Vollachian legions, Felt!"

"Thanks," Felt groaned. "Alright. Once the guards are dead, we need to get to the stairs. Koh said that there was a stairway that led up out of the arena and into the stands. It's supposed to be secured by an enormous gate that we won't breach with anything short of a catapult but Koh says that he'll open it for us. When we walk into the arena, I want everyone to look around and make sure that they know where the stairs are. Once everyone in the arena is dead and the crowd is reeling, we need to move fast. We race up into the stands and grab whatever hostages we can. Sonas and Brendig are the targets."

"Sounds good, shrimp, but there's a problem," Garfiel murmured. "Once we leave the arena, we're up against the city guards and the mercenaries! They have us outnumbered seven to one!"

Felt took a deep breath. "Right," She said in a stressed-out voice. "Listen. You guys who are holding folks off at the fort's rear, you're going to be our vanguard."

"Technically, that makes us the rearguard," Garfiel pointed out.

"Somebody slap him for me, I can't reach," Felt sighed. "When we head for the stairs, I want the vanguard to go first. Now, Subaru promised us a diversion that will force the guards and mercenaries to deal with it. I don't know what he's thinking but I won't be in the least bit surprised if he figured out a way to make the goddamn volcano erupt! If we're outnumbered, then we'll stay in the stairwell. The narrow corridor will nullify the guards' numbers and force them to come at us in small groups. We can handle that for a while if we need to wait for the diversion. Otherwise, we'll just pour out into the stands and grab everyone we can."

"Alright," Garfiel said slowly. "Then what do we do?"

Felt sighed. "I don't know yet, fleabag. After that, we'll need to improvise."

At noon, the guards roughly pulled Felt, Garfiel, and the others out of their cell.

Ten guards weren 't a lot to handle dozens of men but these prisoners were chained up and disarmed after all so the guards weren't even concerned.

The guards led the sedate prisoners from their cell and down the hall to the armory of fake weapons which stood next to an enormous rusty portcullis that led out into the arena. The 'waiting room' was designed so that a portcullis could be lowered to separate the prisoners from the arena and from the passage back to their cells. This allowed the guards to simply place the fake weapons in the waiting room and allow the prisoners to grab the weapons without any risk to themselves.

Normally there would be a pile of cheap spears with blunted tin spearheads. There would also be a few dozen crudely made swords and a large number of shields. The shields were clearly not made out of soft metal to ensure the fight wasn 't over too quickly. There would also be one elaborate but clearly fake sword painted with red highlights.

So far the guards hadn 't noticed that the fake weapons had all been swapped out for real weapons.

"Pick something," The guard said indifferently as he watched a blond, heavily muscled demi-human start to walk under the portcullis and into the waiting room with his head down. The guard didn't care who got what weapon. None of these people were going to end up walking out of the coliseum anyway.

"Wait a second," A guard said slowly. "Those swords don't look right…"

The guard walked over and started to inspect them.

"Now!" Felt shouted.

In the blink of an eye, Garfiel broke out of his manacles and seized a pair of guards by their throats. He slammed them hard into the wall with a loud cracking sound. Both guards slid limply to the floor, leaving a trail of blood on the wall behind them.

The other eight guards desperately groped for the alarm whistles hanging around their necks but the other prisoners yanked shivs made of jagged pottery shards that they 'd made from broken soup bowls out of their pants and stabbed the remaining guards in the throat.

The guards gasped for breath. The only one who managed to get the whistle to his lips found he had no breath to blow it. His eyes rolled up in his head and he fell backward.

"Garf," Felt snapped, quickly looking around. "Stack those bodies in the back and try to hide them under something. Willa, grab that bucket and some rags and see what you can do about the blood stains. Everyone else, start grabbing weapons. Quick!"

Garfiel started grabbing bodies and piling them up in the corner while Willa tried her best to clean the blood off the floors and walls using a large bucket of water that had probably been left out to refresh the fighters.

"Why are we cleaning up?" Baagh asked Felt in confusion.

Felt peered through the rusty portcullis. "Because we don't want anyone to figure out what we did until it's too late! Go grab a weapon!"

Baagh nodded and he picked up a sword. "At long last," Baagh said with a grin. "My arm is complete again! Finally, I shall taste battle once more! Even if I die today, I shall die with a smile on my lips!"

"More focus on winning, not dying, please!" Felt snapped as she inspected the single red blade in the pile of fake weapons. "What's this?

"The blade of Shayna, the Rebel Queen," Baagh said with reverence, "A long ago Lagunican queen who took a large amount of Vollachian territory. Her blade was said to be drenched in the blood of her foes and could never be wiped clean! They must have painted it so that our leader could be clearly identified."

"Well, that's you, shrimp," Garfiel shrugged.

Felt started. "Huh?"

"You're the one who cooked up our strategy in the fort," Garfiel said simply. "You're the one who organized us."

Felt shook her head. "That was Subaru-"

"Subaru Natsuki may have come up with some of the ideas," Baagh admitted. "But it was you who made the tactical plans and who will stand with us in battle. I might challenge you for the position in other circumstances but I can not carry a blunted blade into combat and hope to prevail. So you may carry the blade and you shall stand as our commander." Baagh gave Felt a hard look. "Be cautious, girl," He said matter-of-factly. "The leader is always the first target. They will seek to slay you first so as to increase their own glory."

Felt sighed. "Gee," She said, taking the sword. "Almost makes you wonder why anyone might not want to be in charge."

"Stay close to me, shrimp," Garfiel growled. "I got your back."

Felt looked up and him and then nodded once.

Baagh looked at the others, most of whom clearly had no idea how to even hold a weapon.

"Listen up! You all need to grab weapons," Baagh said in a drill sergeant's voice. "If you don't know how to fight, take a spear! They're easy to use and as long as you stay close together in a tight clump there's no way for your foes to approach you."

The other prisoners nodded and quickly started grabbing spears.

Garfiel, Baagh and the other men with combat experience all took swords and shields.

Felt glanced out through the portcullis and turned pale. "What in the name of the Gods is happening out there?!" She gasped.

"Damnation by Beast," Baagh said indifferently. "A common event in Vollachia. Strange that Sonas should wish to copy us so closely. He must have been hoping to impress those Vollachian delegates. Those are condemned prisoners being executed by being fed to various wild animals and mabeasts. Most of them haven't been fed in days."

Felt shuddered and then shook it off. "Alright," Felt said in an urgent whisper. "Now, everybody listen up! We only have a few more minutes before the gate opens and out we go. If anyone is confused about the plan, this is the time to say it!"

The fort was enormous for being a glorified prop for a mock battle. It took up more than half of the arena and it was clear that while any siege weapon could knock it down in short order, it would stand its ground otherwise. The fort was built of solid wood and stone and there was a small courtyard inside the gates and a broad stairway in the rear of the fort that led up to the battlements. The battlements were only about twenty feet off the ground but they gave a solid high ground advantage to the defenders. The fort was mostly a shell that would allow people to fight on the battlements.

Most of the slaves were now all huddled on the battlements, hiding right above the gate and trying to preserve the element of surprise.

Baagh, Garfiel, Felt and the other slaves that considered themselves walked around boldly atop the battlements, trying to lure the enemy in.

Felt glanced up at the arena stands. Hundreds of people sat in a coliseum that was clearly originally designed to hold thousands. Oddly, no one seemed happy to be here for the show. The guards and mercenaries looked bored and most of the hostages just looked sick and frightened.

Felt saw Sonas and Brendig sitting in a private box and her eyes narrowed.

Felt couldn 't escape the irony of trying to hide in front of hundreds of spectators who could see them clearly and might warn the attackers but during their planning, Baagh had assured Felt that it was unlikely anyone would take their defense seriously.

"Alright, free men of Girali!" A great voice shouted out. "Welcome to our faithful reproduction of the Battle of Bladed Spires waged long ago by Queen Shayna of Lagunican and Emperor Vortigern of Vollachia, exactly six hundred and eighty-four years ago this month!"

The crowd was utterly silent.

Sonas looked annoyed and he whispered instructions to one of his guards who quickly sped down to speak to the guards and mercenaries.

"I'm Marcus Agrippa and this is my cohost Gaius 'Scipio' Sula-"

"Welcome to the fight, sports fans!" Sula cut him off. "Let's hear it for Governor Sonas who has personally paid for these proceedings!"

The guards and mercenaries in the stands gave a weak cheer.

"Sonas seems to have spared no expense," Baagh growled. "Those are two of the most famous commentators in Vollachia. I wonder if Sonas will pay them extra for allowing them to be taken prisoner by Brendig."

"Today's battle is a very special one," Marcus took over again. "Today, Emperor Vortigern is being played by everybody's favorite commander, Captain Smite!"

The guards actually burst into loud applause but the mercenaries sat there silently. The hostages just looked miserable.

"Yes," Sula broke in. "Vortigern and his noble heroes will personally cut out the beating hearts of every one of these despicable dogs!"

Baagh growled. "This Vollachian dog still has some teeth! " He glanced at the others. "Do not underestimate Captain Smite," Baagh warned. "He is a considerable fighter."

Garfiel nodded. "Having real weapons and the element of surprise will help," He muttered. "But our collars are still active and they limit our strength and mana usage."

"They think that we're unarmed," Felt reassured the group, feeling everyone's worried eyes upon her. "That's all the advantage that we need. Remember, Garfiel and Baagh will deal with Smite. He won't be able to handle these two fighting together. The rest of you handle the others. We have a solid two-to-one advantage in numbers. Victory should be easy as long as we keep our heads and don't panic."

Baagh and the other veterans nodded solemnly but several other prisoners just swallowed hard.

"You are a fine young man, Garfiel," Baagh said formally. "It will be an honor to fight at your side."

Garfiel first looked surprised and then touched. "The honor is mine, Baagh," He said, quickly shaking his hand.

Felt was careful to look away before rolling her eyes so that no one could see her.

The arena was completely silent.

"This is the strangest performance I've ever seen," Baagh muttered. "Nobody wants to be here!"

"I can think of some places that I'd rather be too," Felt muttered.

"Am I the only one who wishes they'd just hurry this up?" Garfiel grumbled. "The waiting is killing me."

Felt looked over the battlement and her eyes narrowed. "Looks like you got your wish, fleabag. Here come the 'heroes.'"

A crowd of almost forty men were marching and showboating across the area sand, their swords waving in the air. Captain Smite walked in front of them. He was stripped to the waist and carried an enormous quarter staff with heavy weights on both ends. Smite wasn 't showboating or cheering but the anticipation in his face was unmistakable. Two men with the appearance of city guards accompanied him. The remaining thirty-five men behind them were all around Felt's age and they didn't appear to be in the best of shape. Where the guards seemed almost bored, these others were clearly having the time of their lives and walked across the sand hooting and hollering.

Garfiel snorted. "Do you think those guys suddenly forgot that they're prisoners? That they're being kept here as hostages?"

Felt watched them come. "Well, they don't look like much. Except Smite and his guards."

"Never seen a weapon like that quarterstaff," Garfiel admitted in a worried voice.

Baagh snorted. "It's a fool's weapon! It's too heavy and unbalanced to use properly! It's a weapon for spectacle, intended to crush foes slowly for the crowd's entertainment. If Smite knew that he has a real battle on his hands, he would have brought a more sensible weapon."

Felt nodded as the men approached the fort. "Alright. Vanguard get ready!" Felt snapped. "Stay close together!"

Garfiel, Felt, Baagh, and the others with fighting experience gathered at the top of the stairs. The remaining prisoners stayed cowering on the battlements above the gate.

"Look at the rebels!" Sula laughed. "Cowering in their fort! I guess this won't be much of a fight!"

"Against Captain Smite?" Marcus snickered. "It wouldn't be a fight anyway. But maybe they'll die slowly at least."

"Time to shed blood for the Imperial Vollachian Empire!" Sula shouted. "The Battle of the Bladed Spires begins!"

The crowd cheered weakly but it was dwarfed by the howling cheers from the young nobles who charged forward with swords raised.

Felt nudged Garfiel. "I'm going to show them the sword and try to provoke them. Maybe I can get them to rush us instead of staying close together."

Baagh nodded, "Sound strategy, little girl."

"Thanks, old man," Felt replied tartly.

Baagh did a double take and then gave a wheezing laugh.

Felt raced to the front of the battlements and drew her useless but elaborate sword. "Who goes there?" She shouted down at the flabby young men impersonating gladiators.

"Ooh!" Marcus shouted, "We have a queen with some style this time!"

Smite looked up at Felt coolly and made no reply.

That 's OK. He's not the one whose attention I need.

"We're here to kill these Gusteko soldiers!" One man bellowed in a drunk voice.

"You're in Vollachia right now, bozo. Which means that you couldn't have gotten any more lost if you tried!" Felt shouted back.

To her surprise, the audience actually fell to laughing at her comment and the man that she 'd taunted looked flustered.

Smite said something to the boy but another yelled up at Felt. "How about you come down here and suck my dick? Maybe then I won't gut you!"

The crowd was silent.

Seems the crowd doesn 't have a high opinion of that kind of crudeness. Good to know.

"Sorry," Felt shouted. "But with the eternal night still going on, I'm worried I couldn't find that tiny, little thing in the dark!"

The crowd laughed again.

The 'gladiators' except Smite and the guards were grumbling angrily to one another.

They 're angry and not thinking clearly. Success!

Felt watched as under Smite 's direction, ten of the young men carried a battering ram over to the fort door. Smite raised his hand and prepared his troops. At a sharp word, the group charged the gate, slamming the battering ram into the doors with all of their strength.

Which was actually a huge waste of effort since the doors weren 't locked.

The young men looked thrown badly off step by this unexpected development.

They looked up the stairs at Felt and the rebels.

"What the hell, shitheads?" One rather pudgy and pasty boy shouted. "Couldn't you make this at least a little fun for us?!"

Garfiel scowled. "Just bring your pasty ass up here, kid! I promise that I'll make this real entertaining for you! "

Smite and the other guards entered the fort. The boys looked livid, their faces had the cheated look of someone who feels that they aren 't getting what they paid for.

Smite alone looked suspicious about the situation. He paid no heed to the demands of the phony gladiators to start the attack but finally he gave a crisp command and the gladiators charged up the stairs with a wild yell. Smite and his guards hung back long enough to let a few go ahead of them and then they joined the charge.

Felt waited until they were all on the stairs. "Now!" She screamed.

The remaining prisoners dropped down from the battlements behind the gladiators with spears at the ready, surrounding them and closing off their retreat. The prisoners looked terrified but they held their spears out with desperate strength.

"Whoah!" Sula shouted. "How about that? These Lagunicans have got some spirit!"

"Yeah, maybe this won't be over as quickly as we thought!" Marcus laughed.

Felt lifted her sword in an unsteady hand and looked down the stairs. The gladiators all looked frustrated and angry at having been outmaneuvered this way but none of them looked worried about being surrounded by a group that they had been told held nonfunctional weapons. Only Smite was beginning to look concerned.

The pudgy gladiator scowled and barred his teeth. "Filthy demi-human!" He snapped.

Garfiel growled. A moment later, he blinked, realizing that a decent portion of the crowd had started to shout protests and curses at the gladiator.

"Oh!" Sula said in an uncomfortable tone. "That's messed up! Who's supposed to be the Lagunicans here?"

"This is what we get for having amateur gladiators at these events," Marcus said in a tone of disgust.

"Maybe we'll get lucky and somebody will kill that one quickly," Sula suggested.

Felt made a face. It kind of bugs me that the major thing my homeland is famous for is being racially intolerant.

The pudgy young man flushed in embarrassment and, perhaps in an effort to recover the favor of the crowd, he started racing up the stairs, followed by two and then four of his brethren.

Smite shouted at them to wait but they ignored him.

The young men raced up at the stairs. Garfiel and Baagh stepped forward with swords drawn to challenge them.

The pudgy young man 's face went white as Garfiel's sword ran smoothly through his throat. Baagh almost contemptuously knocked the sword of the other gladiator aside with his sword and then drove his blade into the gladiator's gut.

The gladiators both seemed completely shocked by their mortal wounds. Then Garfiel and Baagh swung their shields in tandem and they backhanded the gladiators, knocking them tumbling back down the stairs and into the other charging fighters, bowling them over.

"Wow!" Sula cheered. "Look at that! This is going to be fun after all!"

"Hell yeah!" Marcus agreed. "I hate it when the games are too lopsided!"

Felt looked down the stairs. Smite 's mouth was a grim slash. The guards also looked worried while all the others just looked flabbergasted. It was clear that they had all figured out that their enemies were somehow armed with real weapons.

"Charge!" Felt shouted in a shrill voice and the prisoners all began to march down the stairs step by step, staying in close formation and pressing the gladiators closer toward the spear points behind them.

The young men fell back, their faces ashen.

"If any of you want to live to see the sun set," Smite snapped to the young men. "Then we need to kill these prisoners! You know how to use weapons, so use them! Don't just stand there waiting to die!"

The boys who 'd been playing at being warriors all looked sick but they raised their weapons all the same. With fear of death driving them, these young men threw themselves at their foes.

This time Smite led the charge and Garfiel met him. Smite swung his heavy staff at Garfiel who raised his shield in defense.

Felt 's heart stopped as she watched the massive bull wind up a crushing blow that would easily break Garfiel's arm but at the last moment, Garfiel stepped aside, throwing Smite off balance as the heavy strike missed.

Garfiel lunged at Smite 's face with his sword but Smite was barely able to deflect the strike with his staff, taking a long shallow cut on the arm instead.

A moment later, Baagh raced forward to help Garfiel.

Meanwhile, Felt saw that a young man was charging her, the same one whose genitals she had mocked earlier.

He must want to get even .

Felt found herself dealing with only a single young man but one who outweighed her by well over a hundred pounds and whose sword was twice the length of her own.

Fabulous! I can 't get this guy to underestimate me and get him off guard after all this! Felt thought in frustration as she fell back.

Felt retreated to the top of the stairs and then flailed at the young man with her sword. Felt 's swordsmanship was utterly pathetic but she had the advantage of fighting from the high ground and from a flat area while the young man she fought had to worry about tripping on the stairs.

The young man kept trying to slip around Felt but she kept thrusting her sword at his face, forcing the gladiator to stay defensive and preventing him from closing in on her.

Felt 's arm burned with exhaustion. I 'm not built to fight like this! She thought desperately.

Felt went for a desperate stab but the young man parried her blade and sent it flying.

The young man grinned at her like a fox at a rabbit, savoring his victory.

Felt didn 't waste any time feeling horrified. While the young man's sword was still extended off to the side, Felt simply launched her small body straight at him.

The young man tried to bring his sword back to bear but Felt was already under his guard. She crashed into the young man with all her might. Felt 's weight was minuscule but the young man stood on narrow stairs and he couldn't regain his balance.

The young man fell backward, catching the next step with his neck as Felt rode his body down the stairs like a toboggan.

Felt finally crashed onto the ground atop the young man 's dead body, shaken but unhurt.

Felt, now unarmed, tried to creep away from the fighting and avoid being seen as an easy target.

Near the fortress gate, Felt saw Willa desperately struggling with her spear as she fought a young man one on one. The young man contemptuously slapped Willa 's spear aside and Willa tripped and fell backward.

The young man raised his sword over his head with a wild grin.

"Willa!" Felt shouted, grabbing a spear from a fallen prisoner and racing over to help her.

The young man heard her shout. He stopped his killing stroke and turned to block Felt 's attack. Felt feinted at the young man's face, keeping his attention focused on her while the ashen-faced Willa quickly got to her feet. She grabbed her spear and thrust again at the young man.

The young man fell back, desperately trying to use his round shield to block both women 's spears at once. He was forced to fight completely defensively. Felt moved around to behind the gladiator, trying to force him to fight from both sides.

The young man threw her a look of fury, clearly guessing her strategy but having no idea what he could do about it.

The young man tried to back his way into a shallow corner but the women kept stabbing at him from opposite sides as he desperately tried to block with his shield.

Finally, Willa stabbed low and Felt went high. The young man clearly knew what was coming but there was simply no way he could move his shield fast enough. He blocked Willa 's thrust at his bowels but Felt's spear caught him in the throat.

The young man looked at Felt, his expression a mix of fury and sheer disbelief at what was happening to him. Then his eyes slowly rolled up in his head and he fell down.

Felt panted for breath as she looked up the stairs. Most of the men attacking the fort were dead but Garfiel and Baagh were still fighting Smite and having a hard time doing it.

"Uh, Sula?" Marcus said slowly. "Is it just me or are these Lagunicans taking more heads than they're losing?"

"Wait. Didn't we win the Battle of the Bladed Spires?" Sula said in confusion.

"Maybe somebody rewrote the script?" Marcus suggested. "Like they wanted a twist ending?"

Sula sniffed. "Somebody ought to tell them that disrespecting our heritage won't get them invited to any Vollachian games!"

Felt 's entire body ached with exhaustion but she fought her way back to her feet. She took her spear and marched up the stairs, coming at Smite from behind.

Smite roared in frustration as he spun like a whirlwind, desperately trying to keep his footing on the stairs and hold off the three foes who had him surrounded.

Felt 's arms felt like rubber but she kept thrusting her spear at Smite's back, trying to force him to defend himself against her so that Garfiel and Baagh would have a clear shot.

Finally, Felt made a mistake. Her aching body caused her to lose her balance and thrust too hard.

Smite immediately countered, swinging his heavy staff around and catching Felt 's stomach.

It was a glancing strike, the only reason that she wasn 't killed instantly but the force was still sufficient to fling her off the stairs and onto the sandy floor where she lay in a daze.

Garfiel roared in fury and threw himself at the bull. Smite brought his staff around to crush the tiger demi-human but he was far too slow. Garfiel brought his shield up and backhanded the bull full across the face.

Even from her prone position, Felt heard the bones in Smite 's face crack.

In desperation, Smite brought his staff around, trying to break Garfiel 's skull but Garfiel was already moving. He brought his sword up in a precise slice.

Smite 's hand went flying across the arena. A moment later so did his staff.

But Garfiel wasn 't finished. He swung his shield with all his strength, driving it into the bull man's chest with a sickening crunching sound as his ribs were crushed. Smite's breath rushed out of his body accompanied by a spray of blood.

Garfiel swung his sword. He saw Smite 's eyes tracking the stroke with equal parts fascination and horror, knowing that there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Garfiel 's blade cleanly sliced across Smite's neck and his head fell off and struck the stairs, making a wet sound like a dropped pumpkin. A moment later, his body joined it.

Felt shook her head and lurched to her feet. She realized that the arena was in an uproar. The ringing in her ears subsided and she could make out the screams.

"The Iotuns! The Iotuns are attacking the city!" Someone screamed.

Oh, Gods! Is this Subaru 's diversion?! That's a hell of a diversion, Subaru! Assuming that we actually survive it!

Felt 's vision was blurry but she saw a portcullis build into the arena wall and saw Koh frantically beckoning her.

Felt shook off her disorientation. "Hey!" She shouted with barely any breath. "Come on! Move!" She ordered.

Garfiel stared at her for a second, followed her gaze and his eyes narrowed.

"Come on!" He bellowed, charging down the stairs, followed by Baagh, Willa, and any of the prisoners who had survived.

Garfiel stopped only long enough to grab Felt and toss her over his shoulder as he raced across the sands.

"Ow!" Felt screamed as her bruised stomach cried out in pain.

"Sorry, shrimp!" Garfiel shouted as they raced through the portcullis and up the stairs.

The arena stands were in chaos. Guards and mercenaries were running in every direction, responding to contradictory orders about whether to contain the rebelling slaves, protect the castle, or get to the front gate and face the Iotuns.

A group of mercenaries shouted a challenge and Baagh and his men moved to confront them. The other prisoners weren 't far behind. Even Willa looked more angry than scared right now.

Felt slapped Garfiel 's back. "Put me down!" She shouted.

Garfiel obediently put her back on her feet. "We've got to find Sonas and Brendig!" He shouted. "That's the only way to get Frosty back safely!"

"Right!" Felt scanned the stands where she saw Koh leading nearly two dozen people in a rapid flight to safety.

"There he is!" Garfiel roared, pointing up the stands.

Felt looked and saw Sonas and Bran desperately running for their lives with only a pair of guards to protect them.

"Come on!" Garfiel shouted, sprinting up the stands, followed by Felt.

"Garf! Hang on!" Felt shouted. "We need backup!"

The two guards raised their shields defending Sonas while Bran cowered in front of them. His hands trembling in front of his face, too scared to run.

"Get out of my way!" Garfiel roared, coming to an unwilling stop before the trembling little man. "Move!" He shouted.

Bran suddenly straightened up and blew across his palms, dusting Felt and Garfiel with some kind of strange purple powder.

Felt and Garfiel both had a coughing fit. Felt fought for breath as the world began to spin and she blacked out.

The Iotuns battered at the gate with their enormous axes.

Old Gnawbones, which was not his real name, led the attack. The Iotuns didn 't really have names. While smarter and more adept than most mabeasts, the Iotuns still had crude and unformed minds. Most Iotuns never thought any deeper than 'Go here and try to find food.' Only the Iotun elders ever developed the ability to manage anything approximating long-term planning or considering hypothetical situations.

Most people assumed that Iotuns were ignorant, stupid creatures with no great objectives beyond finding greater and greater sources of food.

This was incorrect, however. Because Iotuns had one other objective. They lived in a world filled with music .

To the Iotuns, a beautiful, haunting song echoed out over the entire Girali area. It sang to them all day, every day, and all through the night.

The Iotuns were obsessed with it, yearning toward the music as a moth to a candle. As the years went on, the music gripped the Iotuns harder and harder. It wasn 't untrue that the Iotuns attacked the Shelf in search of food but even the Iotuns were clever enough to understand that moving to other areas, further away from this wasteland, would offer greater chances to find food.

However, moving in that direction meant leaving the song behind and the Iotuns couldn 't bear that.

Sooner or later, the song caught every Iotun and drew them under its spell. Then they would stumble up the cliff to the Shelf like drunks, frantically trying to reach the source of that sublime music before they were cut down by the squishies.

Old Gnawbones knew that he was next. He was old. The music beat in his head like a constant drum, the way that a fly beat against a window, desperate to get out.

Old Gnawbones still remembered when his elder, the titanic Iotun that men called 'Goreax' had finally given in to its seductive whispers and charged into oblivion.

Old Gnawbones wasn 't sure how much longer he could resist the music. Or even if he still cared to.

Then came the squishy called The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun.

He was a squishy who wasn 't squishy.

Some nights ago, Old Gnawbones had watched him break a Iotun 's leg with his bare hands. Old Gnawbones hadn't become an elder by being stupid. He recognized a threat that he shouldn't confront when he saw it. Even when The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun appeared inside their very den, Old Gnawbones had ordered the others not to attack, knowing that it would be their deaths.

Beyond that, Old Gnawbones had a feeling that The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun had come to their lair for something other than fighting.

The One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun spoke to Old Gnawbones and despite not understanding any of the squishy 's grunting, Old Gnawbones found that he got a general sense of what the stranger wanted.

The One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun had offered the Iotuns a deal. He promised that the sun would not rise again for many days.

Old Gnawbones was somewhat skeptical that this squishy could take credit for this strange effect that had blotted out the hated burning-eye high above them but it didn 't matter. Old Gnawbones had sensed the faltering light and he had been preparing to test the eternal night within a day or two in any case. In exchange for this promise, The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun had asked for two things: He insisted that the Iotuns promise not to kill or eat any squishies that didn't attack them.

Old Gnawbones considered the promise inconvenient but he was ready to make the agreement. His instincts told him that even with his whole tribe at his side, fighting The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun would be an act of desperation. The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun 's other request was trivial.

Some days back, the Iotuns had gathered to raid a caravan that had the misfortune to be trapped out in the wastes at night.

The Iotuns had eaten everyone that they found and then carried off anything even remotely edible but Old Gnawbones had insisted on taking a wagon full of the tiny metal clubs and axes that the squishies used.

The other Iotuns didn 't understand why Old Gnawbones had demanded this since the squishies' axes couldn't be used by the giants, much less be eaten, but Old Gnawbones had pointed out to the others that if they had the squishies ' clubs and axes, that meant that the squishies didn 't . And that meant that the squishies couldn 't use them against the Iotuns.

After much thought, the younger Iotuns had slowly grasped the idea and helped Old Gnawbones carry off the weapons.

Some days, Old Gnawbones despaired of the younglings ' slow wits.

The wisdom of Old Gnawbones decision was later made clear when The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun appeared shortly thereafter. In exchange for the Iotuns giving him the weapons that they had stolen, The-One-Who-Held-Back-The-Sun promised them an endless night and that he would arrange for a distraction when they assaulted the front gate of Girali to ensure that most of the squishies wouldn 't be able to come and fight them at all.

Now, Old Gnawbones hammered at the great gate of Girali with his axe. Behind him stood more than a dozen other Iotuns, mewling in anticipation of finally getting inside the walled city but there was only enough room on this narrow ledge leading to the gate for one Iotuns to attack at a time. The other Iotuns wisely kept their distance.

Old Gnawbones had lost himself to the song. It was so close that he could almost taste it. The elder truly wondered if he might have slain any other Iotun who got in his way right now.

The squishies tried to defend the gate with volleys of arrows but the arrows slowed Old Gnawbones down not at all. They were like stinging flies. He might be hurting from the arrows in the morning but tonight, only breaking down the gate mattered to him.

The gate broke open with a great crash, leaving a huge pile of rubble where it stood.

Squishies ran in all directions, screaming.

For once, the Iotuns couldn 't have cared less about eating the people or eating in general.

Old Gnawbones stepped over the rubble like a man avoiding a mud puddle. The Iotuns marched in single file toward the source of the music. Their axes fell from enormous, numb fingers as they approached the towering crystal obelisk of Girali and its unspeakably beautiful song.

Subaru had just reached the city when alarm bells and whistles began to blow everywhere.

"What's going on?" Subaru asked a guard calmly.

The guards that had brought Subaru up from the Shelf all looked horrified. "The Iotuns are attacking the city!" One screamed, dashing off into the night, seeking either to help the others or to hide.

Huh. Looks like old Gnawbones was right on time.

Subaru sprinted into the city as fast as he could, heading toward the coliseum.

Guards and mercenaries were running in every direction: some heading for the palace and preparing for a last stand while others raced to defend the faltering gate.

"Susu!"

Subaru skidded to a stop. He looked at a nearby alley and saw Koh standing there, looking worried. Behind stood a dozen well-dressed men and women wearing kimonos and the loose robes favored in Vollachia.

"Koh! Did the plan work?" Subaru demanded.

"To a point," Koh muttered. "Is this your big diversion?" He asked incredulously, pointing at the giants battering at the city gate.

"It worked, didn't it?" Subaru snapped.

"How?!" Koh demanded. "We're trapped in here because the Iotuns are assaulting the gates and once they break through, they'll eat everybody! How did you even get them here?"

"First off, the Iotuns aren't going to eat anybody. Old Gnawbones promised not to kill or eat anyone who doesn't attack them."

Koh stared at him for a long moment. " What ?! They promised ?! "

"I can… sort of talk to mabeasts," Subaru admitted. "And believe me, Old Gnawbones isn't going to break any deals that he makes with me."

Koh just stared at him. "Susu, I have about a hundred and fifty questions-"

"Not a good time. Where are Felt and Garf?"

Koh winced. "Alright. So the slaves broke out and are holding part of the city, mostly because the guards and mercenaries are so fixated on holding back the Iotuns that a slave rebellion feels like more of an annoyance to them. Felt and Garfiel almost captured Sonas but Bran blew some kind of powder in their faces that knocked them out."

"Bran?!" Subaru asked incredulously.

Koh nodded with a grim expression. "Bran is much more clever than he seems. He's supposedly the one who really invented the process to stabilize the pyroxene crystals."

"Wait. I thought Sonas did that."

"Sonas was too arrogant to give him any credit. He just paid him to keep quiet about it."

Subaru shook his head. "This is 'Bran,' we're talking about, right? The guy who's obsessed with his little boy?"

Koh looked at him strangely. "Bran doesn't have any family as far as I can tell."

Subaru blinked and then shook his head. "Whatever. Look, where are Felt and Garf?"

"Sonas recaptured them."

"What?!" Subaru exclaimed. "What the hell were you doing?!"

"What do you want from me, Susu?" He complained. "I needed to get the hostages out!"

"You backstabbing piece of shit," Subaru hissed.

"My priority is to rescue the hostages," Koh growled. "Yours is Felt, Garf, and the elf."

"And you took advantage of the diversion I gave you to do exactly that!" Subaru snapped.

"There's no point in going over this now!" Koh shouted. "Listen! My plan failed too! I got some of the hostages to somewhere safe but several of them are still inside the palace. Brendig was apparently smart enough not to bring them all out into the coliseum. I need to get the others out."

"Why do I care?"

"Because if we don't the entire world is about to go to war!" Koh snapped.

"If anything happens to Emilia, Koh," Subaru said in a deathly whisper. "I'll start a war that makes the Great Cataclysm look like a schoolyard brawl."

Koh blinked. Something in Subaru 's demeanor told him not to scoff at this threat and he froze, staring at Subaru in mingled horror and amazement.

"Look," Koh said slowly. "You're going to go and try to rescue those three, right?"

"Clearly, I have to since you failed to rescue them!" Subaru hissed.

Koh winced. "Here, take this."

Koh handed him a sword. It was an elegant blade of clearly high-end design.

Subaru inspected it and blinked when he saw the crest of House Astrea on the blade.

"Where the hell did you get this?!" Subaru demanded.

"From Garf."

Subaru stared at him. "That explains nothing!" He objected.

"We don't have time to tell stories right now, Susu," Koh snapped back. "I need to get these hostages under cover somewhere and then go rescue the others. Look. If I see an opportunity to try and free your people, I'll take it. Or maybe I'll get lucky and I can take care of Sonas and Brendig for you."

"Something tells me you're not going to put much effort into it," Subaru spat, walking away.

Subaru raced toward the palace.

"Subaru!"

Subaru skidded to a halt and found Baagh and Willa standing in front of a crowd of slaves armed with swords. The slaves who had been formerly armed with spears appeared to have scavenged swords from the fallen to better deal with the open areas.

"What happened?" Subaru demanded.

Baagh grimaced. "We broke free but Felt and Garf were recaptured," He admitted in shame. "Smite died during our escape and the guards are in complete disarray, mostly guarding the palace. The mercenaries are fighting at the gate to keep the Iotuns out. We don't know what to do. If the Iotuns breakthrough-"

The Iotuns are under my control. Subaru started to say it then hesitated and didn 't.

"You're right," Subaru said grimly. "If those Iotuns break into the city they will slaughter absolutely everyone. We have no chance of keeping them out of the gate. And there is only one place in the city where we can hope to hold them off."

"The palace?" Baagh guessed.

"Exactly. I'm sure that Sonas will give us shelter in this time of crisis if we appeal to him for hospitality," Subaru said mockingly.

The slaves grumbled.

"If we want to survive the day," Subaru lied, "There's only one chance. We need to seize the palace."

The slaves were silent.

"Seize the palace?" Baagh gasped. "Subaru, the palace is heavily fortified and there are still hundreds of-"

"I will get you an opportunity. We have to take the palace. There is no other choice! There is only one place in this city where we could hope to find shelter from the Iotuns and that is in the palace. We will breach the walls and we will get revenge on all who have abused and mistreated us," Subaru said, smoothly convincing both the frightened and the vengeful slaves that storming the castle was the only way. "Do you wish to live? Do you wish to go home and be free once again? Then we must take the palace!"

Subaru marched up to the palace alone.

The battlements were lined with nervous-looking archers who stared out over the burning city with dismay.

Subaru reached the castle gates and looked at the black pit that he knew held Emilia 's cage.

"Keep back!" One of the archers shouted. "This is your only warning!"

"Tell Sonas that I'm back!" Subaru shouted up the battlements. He pulled the talisman out of his satchel and showed it to them. "I have his treasure."

The archers debated for a moment and then one of them ran off into the castle keep.

Only a few moments later, Sonas raced to the top of the battlements.

"Subaru! My old friend!" He called with a friendly smile that concealed none of his terror.

Subaru stared up at him. "What exactly happened while I was gone, Sonas?" He said flatly. "It looks like things have gotten slightly out of control."

Sonas fumed. "Some idiot mixed up the fake weapons the slaves were supposed to receive with real weapons and now I 'm dealing with a slave revolt. Worse, the Iotuns have finally figured out the significance of the eternal night and they're marching on the city! I need the talisman now! If I can end the eternal night then we destroy the Iotuns and regain control of the city! Throw it up here, quickly!"

"Not so fast, Sonas," Subaru said with a sneer. "First: my friends."

"Subaru, we don't have time for this!" Sonas objected.

"I'm not afraid of the Iotuns," Subaru pointed out.

Sonas fumed and he gestured to a soldier on a lower level who speedily began to crank the winch, dragging the cages up from the depths.

Subaru took a deep breath.

Slowly, the cages emerged from the depths. Emilia, Felt, and Garfiel each lay in a tiny gibbet. They were all unconscious.

"Alright!" Sonas shouted. "Now give me the talisman so that I can save us all! Including your friends!"

"Set them free and give them back to me!" Subaru demanded.

Sonas snorted. "And if I do that, why should I believe that you would give me the talisman?"

Subaru bit his lip. This is an impasse. Sonas is going to betray me and we both know it. I 'd give him this toy without a second thought to save them but Sonas would never believe me because he'd never do the same in my place. What the hell do I do now?

Subaru heard a groan and looked up to see the soldier at the winch stiffen. His eyes rolled up in his head and he pitched forward into the pit without a sound. A moment later there was a snapping sound and the heavy rope connected to the cages ran free, dropping the cages back into darkness.

Subaru saw in horror that the rope had been cut and it flew through the pulley and then vanished into the dark pit.

Subaru stared down into the darkness for a second, then two, then five. From unimaginably far down in the pit, there came a loud crash.

Subaru staggered back from the edge. "No," He gasped.

"What happened?!" Sonas demanded of the guards.

"No," Subaru whispered, tears running down his face. "No. Not again. Please. No."

Subaru slammed his back against a nearby stonewall that came to waist height.

"No," Subaru whispered. "Emilia. No…"

Emilia.

Her voice. Her touch. Her laughter.

All gone.

Never again.

Subaru was only vaguely aware of raised voices above him. "How did this happen?! Who did that?!" Sonas yelled in a panic.

"I don't know, sir!" A guard shouted back.

"Er, loose arrows!" Sonas shouted desperately.

The guards on the battlements drew, aimed, and released.

Subaru saw the hundreds of shafts descending toward him as if in slow motion.

For a moment, he considered just letting them pierce him.

Then self-preservation took over and Subaru leaped over the stonewall and hid in its shadow.

The arrows bounced away harmlessly off the stonewall.

Subaru huddled behind the barrier.

He stared with unseeing eyes down the hill to where the rebel slaves hid, awaiting his signal. Baagh and Willa 's faces were both anguished as they sensed his grief.

Emilia is dead.

I promised her that together, we could do anything.

We found the Book. We could finally fix everyone 's memories.

We were going to be happy together …

No …

The shock was beginning to ebb and beneath it came a rising tide of rage and hate.

Subaru encouraged this fury. He knew that buried underneath the rage was nothing but grief and pain on a scale that he could not bear and so he deliberately chose to embrace his anger.

Curse this place. Curse this world .

The moment that I met Emilia, I should have murdered every single other living creature on this planet! I should have made this entire world a graveyard the likes of which even the stars had never dreamed of!

I should have broken apart this world and remade it in my own image, a world just for me and Emilia.

A paradise.

Nothing else matters. Nothing but her ever mattered.

Subaru panted but he couldn 't seem to catch his breath.

You took her from me.

You took her from me.

Subaru tilted his head back and howled at the black sky, a scream that was all rage and pain, and despair.

His Authority awoke and this time it swallowed him whole.

Subaru didn 't even try to resist. He embraced the black tide wholeheartedly, welcoming anything that could offer balm to his agony.

Subaru 's entire body surged with power but this time, perspective and solace eluded him. The flames of his rage even beat back Reason and Judgment 's unnatural calm.

Subaru 's body clenched as he gathered all of his power into a single primal scream. " Pridebreaker ! " He roared.

The power surged out of him in all directions, a great wave of energy that passed over and through everything in its path.

"Enough!" Sonas roared. "I need that talisman before the Iotuns kill us all! Thaddeus! Get some men in armor, go down there, and flush-" The Governor barely managed to leap aside as a small ball of orange light shot just over his shoulder, close enough for him to feel the heat and the vibrations.

The ball zipped around the stonewall to where Subaru knelt and hovered just above his head, an orb the size of a baseball. Then a blue orb shot into view and took position beside the first. Then green, yellow, red, and purple until Subaru had a shining crown of dozens of glowing orbs hovering around him like a halo.

Subaru stepped out from behind the stonewall and glared up at Sonas and the guards but for a moment, no arrows flew. Everyone just stared in utter shock at Subaru who was now shining like a star.

He leaped back over the wall and, all alone, he charged toward the castle battlements. "Sonas!" Subaru howled, his face streaming with tears. "You are a dead man! "

Without knowing how to do it, without even thinking about how to do it, Subaru drew power from the earth spirits around him and suffused that power into his own body. He raised both fists high over his head and then slammed them down on the sandy ground in front of the castle.

The earth around him rippled like water. A great wave of force flew outward, cracking building foundations and knocking over small structures. Part of the battlements collapsed to the ground below.

The shockwaves ran through the castle wall, crumpling the stone and mortar and leaving an enormous pile of rubble that led up to the battlements. The shock-wave knocked everyone on the battlements off their feet. Some went flying to the courtyard below and one unlucky guard fell into the pit with a howl of despair as he vanished into the darkness.

The archers were all scattered and thrown to the battlement floor or to the courtyard ground. Sonas was one of the lucky ones only thrown off his feet and Thaddeus, Captain Smite 's lieutenant helped him regain them.

Subaru raced to the collapsed part of the wall and struggled to climb the rubble stairway that now led up to the battlements. He stalked toward Sonas, a radiant crown of spirits above him and murder in his eyes. "Look upon your executioner, craven lord of slaves!" Subaru screamed, fighting to climb the unstable pile of broken stone. "You'll beg for death before I finish with you!"

"Shoot him!" Sonas screamed to the archers that still hadn't regained their feet.

"Archers! Fire at will!" Thaddeus, Captain Smite's lieutenant shouted as Sonas cowered behind him. "And get a phalanx out here!"

There was a loud popping sound and then another.

As Sonas watched, one of the orange orbs orbiting around Subaru trembled and then with a popping sound, the orb shone bright green. A blue orb shuddered and then turned green as well. The balls continued to change color until Subaru was shining with emerald light.

The archers finally got to their feet and they drew and aimed their arrows at Subaru.

Subaru had eyes for no one but Sonas. The archers did not hold his interest. As he climbed, he waved one hand in a circle.

As the archers opened fire, the emerald halo surmounting Subaru flew up and expanded until it was an enormous cylinder with Subaru at its core.

The emerald stars began spinning around him, faster and faster.

Sonas gasped as the wind suddenly picked up.

Suddenly, Subaru stood at the heart of a great tornado that flung the arrows in every direction except at Subaru.

"Save me!" Sonas squealed to Thaddeus.

"Fall back to the castle keep!" Thaddeus roared to the other guards, grabbing Sonas under one arm.

The Smite and the archers desperately tried to fight the pull of the tearing winds and flee from Subaru.

They grabbed anything that they could hold onto and slowly pulled themselves away from the storm. The only thing keeping them alive was that the ramp Subaru had accidentally built for himself was very hard to climb and so he was struggling to reach the battlements fifty feet above the ground.

The archers and Thaddeus finally got out of the direct line of sight and escaped the direct force of the slicing gale.

"Form up!" Thaddeus roared as he ran past a group of guards wearing heavy armor and massive shields that had just emerged in the castle courtyard. "Archers to the keep! Take positions on the parapet! Guards hold the keep choke-point!"

The armored guards obediently turned and ran back toward the keep in perfect formation.

Since they were encumbered by heavy armor and weapons, the archers and Smite quickly outpaced them.

Subaru had finally reached the top of the battlements and saw a legion of armored guards blocking the path to the keep. The keep looked like a small castle at the end of the courtyard, complete with its own battlements and curtain wall. Subaru had now discarded the raging storm that he 'd conjured up. The radiant spirits above his head had again dispersed into many colors.

By now, some of the archers had taken position at the keep parapets and they launched volleys of arrows as Subaru.

Subaru was panting for breath and he regarded the arrows as he would stinging flies obstructing his pursuit of his quarry.

Subaru lifted his hand.

The dozen orange spirits around him suddenly shone more brightly. Hundreds of small rocks ripped themselves out of the sandy ground and floated in front of Subaru, hovering there like the world 's strangest barrier since there was still plenty of space in between each stone.

The arrows flew closer and the archers watched as each arrow hit precisely one stone and then deflected away, leaving Subaru completely untouched.

The archers gasped.

Subaru lowered his hand and the rocks fell to the ground.

Subaru jumped down to the courtyard and looked at Thaddeus and Sonas who had almost reached the safety of the palace.

"No," Subaru whispered, biting his lip until it blend.

With a loud pop, all of the spirits around him turned bright red.

"No!" Subaru screamed as he pointed at Sonas.

The spirits all flared blindingly bright and the area filled with unimaginable heat.

Then with a loud and discordant popping sound, the spirits all resumed their original colors.

Subaru grabbed his forehead and fell to the ground with a cry of agony. It felt as if his head was going to explode.

Subaru lay there panting for a long moment, struggling to move.

He heard a faint swishing sound.

Subaru looked and saw more arrows coming.

Subaru took a deep breath and quickly rolled to the side, taking refuge behind some stone debris shaken free from the battlements by his earthquake.

Subaru was exhausted. Somehow, he knew that he already pushed himself too far and that he couldn 't command the spirits to change their essences or to weave more ultimate-level spells without resting first.

Subaru 's heart felt as if it was on fire. He clutched his chest with one hand and let out an agonized scream.

Subaru gasped for breath. He leaned back against his stone shelter with a whimper of pain.

His heart demanded that he charge forward and break open the castle with his bare hands, dragging Sonas out from whatever rock he hid beneath and tearing him limb from limb. But wisdom warned him to wait here for reinforcements and to catch his breath.

The pain in his heart didn 't subside. If anything, it was increasing.

If not for the fact that Subaru turned his head to the side and coughed up a great glut of blackened blood, he might have assumed that all the pain came from losing Emilia.

"What is this monster?!" Sonas gasped from the keep battlements where he stood with Thaddeus and Colonel Brasca.

"I warned you that he was a witch, Sonas," Brasca said, as unfazed as ever. "You should have listened to me. This is the power of a real witch!"

"How many men do we have in the palace?" Sonas whispered.

"About two hundred altogether," Brasca replied. "A hundred guards and a hundred mercenaries. The General is manning the front gates against the Iotuns with the rest of our forces."

"Two hundred. Against a monster," Thaddeus muttered.

"We're dead!" Sonas gasped. "We're as good as dead. A monster is waiting for us outside the palace gates and the Iotuns are attacking the city!"

"Perhaps not," Brasca said calmly, studying Subaru's hiding spot behind the rubble not far away. "For some reason, the witch is not advancing or casting any more spells. This is especially odd as one would think that ripping this castle apart stone by stone would be trivial for anyone who could wield such magic as we just saw. Perhaps his powers are now exhausted."

Thaddeus gave her a disgusted look. "Oh, yes. That seems very likely!"

For the first time, irritation showed on Brasca 's face. "Then you explain it, cowherd , " She snapped.

Thaddeus growled and clenched his fists. "Don't talk about Captain Smite that way! The Captain was a great man!"

"Man?" Brasca asked skeptically.

"Sir!" One of the archers shouted before Thaddeus could respond. "Look there!"

Thaddeus turned and saw that Subaru Natsuki was raising the heavy portcullis by hand, painfully using the chain in the passage under the battlements to lift it up and open it.

Subaru glared at Sonas for a long moment and then he passed through the portcullis and left the castle.

"Huh?" Thaddeus gasped.

"It seems his powers really are exhausted," Brasca murmured. She studied the scene. They could see through the portcullis that Subaru was meeting with a large force of slaves armed with swords.

"Where the devil did they did get swords?!" Sonas demanded.

Brasca 's eyes narrowed. "Those are our swords, " She said in a cold voice. "I recognize the design. They must have located the cache of weapons that the Iotuns stole."

"Do we loose arrows?" One of the archers asked.

"Hold fire," Thaddeus growled. "They're too far out of range for any sort of accurate shot."

Brasca frowned. "Thaddeus, have some of your men advance."

"Why?" Thaddeus asked flatly.

"Because it appears that the witch is catching his breath and we do not want him to recover his strength," She said. "Send out flank companies to sting him and the rebel slaves and we'll see what they can do."

"What makes you think that you're not just signing their death warrant?" Thaddeus growled.

"That's why I'm sending your men and not my own," Brasca matter-of-factly.

Thaddeus 's hands made fists. There was nothing that he wanted more than to grab Brasca by the throat and throw her over the parapet to the ground far below. But the city was overrun with monsters and he needed all the help he could get.

"Governor, I'm going to lead a legion out of the castle to feel things out," Thaddeus said finally.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, Thaddeus?" Sonas whimpered.

Thaddeus grunted. "Assuming the witch really is exhausted, this should be easy. "

"Do you really think so?" Brasca muttered.

Thaddeus fixed her with a suspicious eye. He could never be certain if the colonel was being sarcastic or not.

"Our men are trained for dealing with rebellious slaves," Thaddeus declared. "They may have swords but they have no armor or shields. And they have absolutely no way to counter a shield wall."

Thaddeus quickly gathered fifty men from the shield wall and they started marching forward in perfect formation, each man 's huge shield interlocking with the ones around him.

"Listen to me! " Subaru shouted, silencing the crowd of slaves. Tears poured down his face. "Sonas has taken everything he could from all of us! This is our only chance to win our freedom and get revenge on the monster! "

Subaru 's mind felt funny. After practicing holding the spirits with Pridebreaker the effect started to feel like innumerable tentacles emerging from his body that had snared the spirits and were holding them. Subaru now felt as if countless tentacles were still tactilely exploring the area, seeking more creatures to ensnare. The invisible tendrils of magic flickered across the slaves but were rebuffed. Inside each of the people, it felt like there was a barrier. An impenetrable wall, not possessed by mabeasts or spirits.

"But Master Subaru! We're outnumbered!" A slave's voice quailed.

Subaru glared at them. "Smite is dead! Brendig has fled with most of his men! Only Sonas remains! Sonas who has trapped you! Tortured you! Starved you! Exploited you! And when he had finally taken everything that he could, he killed you! He has killed your friends and he has killed my wife ! " Subaru cried out. "Now look at him! He cowers in his keep like a whipped dog! The men who abused you all these years, now hide from you! These men do not deserve your fear! Steel will cut them open like any other foe! You have lived in fear for years. Now finally, you will teach them the true meaning of fear! "

Subaru felt an odd stirring. As if the tendrils of Pridebreaker had suddenly grasped some of them slaves. As if the barrier around the mens ' souls had lifted and the tendrils had been allowed access.

"Sonas and his guards are not soldiers," He continued. "They are simply bullies! Look at them cower before you! When faced with the prospect of a fight without overwhelming advantage, they shrink from the contest! Look at the men and women who stand beside you! They know fear! And they have conquered fear to rise up and strike back against their abusers! Only a weak man understands the true value of strength and only the frightened know the power of courage! Sonas and his thugs are now counting numbers, analyzing weapons, and calculating their odds. We shall fight like dragons instead of men! Numbers can be deceptive! Give me a company of the valiant! Give me a single company of brave men ready to fight for their homes, their friends, and their families, and I will break any legion of hired mercenaries you can name!"

Subaru sensed more of the slave 's souls open to him and fall under the influence of Pridebreaker .

"We don't even know how to fight!" A woman cried out.

"You have me!" Subaru declared. "You all know me! You know my reputation! I am Subaru the Invincible! The Troll-bane! The Fire Witch! I am Subaru Natsuki the Breaker of Chains! Of all the foes who've set themselves against me, few ever got to boast of their success!"

Like dominoes, the slaves fell to Pridebreaker, one after another.

"Our fight for freedom and vengeance has reached its climax! And it will be fought here, at the pinnacle of this accursed city! I call upon all of you to rise up! Rise up and stand with me!" Subaru moved forward and seized an awestruck young man by the shoulder. "I need you to be my army!" Subaru declared, pointing at him. "Together, we will break the chains of this city and take revenge for those we've lost!" Subaru declared as the last holdouts among the slaves gave in to his power. "Together, no foe can oppose us!"

The slaves burst into cheers.

Thaddeus had been a guard at Girali for more than five years under Captain Smite. Over the years, he had risen to Smite 's right-hand man. In all that time, the Iotuns had never reached the city gates and there had never even been a hint of a real slave rebellion.

Thaddeus marched forward with fifty men in heavy armor, backed up by the archers on the keep walls behind them.

Thaddeus knew that he lacked the advantage of numbers in this skirmish but he wasn 't overly concerned. Smite ran a tight ship and he drilled his guards regularly and forced them to spar against each other. Moreover, the guards had been trained and equipped specifically to handle large numbers of poorly armed troops.

Thaddeus knew that the poorly equipped and completely untrained slaves had no real chance against a disciplined shield wall of heavy infantry.

He understood that the witch was still the unknown factor but although he was loathe to admit it, he knew that Brasca was right. If the witch was temporarily exhausted, they needed to strike now before he could recover.

Thaddeus 's major concern was finding a way to kill or capture all the slaves quickly so that he could seize the talisman and then bring his forces to reinforce the front gates before the Iotuns broke deeper into the city.

Still, he knew better than to fight recklessly.

We 're all carrying swords and spears and we have large shields. The slaves only have swords and a few spears. This will be a massacre. I'll be surprised if they manage to shed a single drop of our blood.

They have no weapons that can break a shield wall. We can just stand here and wear them down and kill them one by one.

"Advance!" Thaddeus shouted.

The guards began to march ahead in perfect lockstep. Their large, overlapping shields protected them as they began to march through the courtyard toward the ruined battlements.

They 're luring us into the dark, away from the palace torches and to a place where the archers won't be able to see their targets, Thaddeus realized. Clever. Still, we can bring torches in behind the shield wall by hand and illuminate the area. And regardless, the shield wall can just crush all the slaves by themselves even if the archers can 't help.

The infantry began to march through the narrow portcullis. Thaddeus had expected them to take advantage of this divide to attack but they didn 't do anything. The infantry began to form up again outside of the castle wall and Thaddeus saw several archers rushing forward to retake their positions on the castle battlements.

"Advance!" Thaddeus ordered once the infantry was back in formation.

Before the advancing phalanx was even close to the slaves, Thaddeus could see them recoil and their faces twist in terror. As one, they all scattered and fled screaming into the city, looking for someplace to hide and leaving the witch with his strange crown of stars, standing there all alone with an elegant long sword in his hand.

Thaddeus snorted. Exactly what I expected. Less even than I expected!

I thought that they might have at least endured contact with us before they broke and ran!

There 's nowhere for them to hide. They have no chance of escaping through the city with the Iotuns battering the city. We can find and capture them after we deal with this stranger and the Iotuns. Then the Governor will give them the customary sentence for rebellious slaves: burning them alive while all the other slaves are forced to watch.

…I hope the Governor doesn't make me attend this time. The Captain actually liked the scent of burning flesh but it makes me nauseous…

I 'll worry about that later. First, we kill or capture the ringleader and then we need to deal with the Iotuns.

The phalanx was within spitting distance of Subaru when Thaddeus heard a cry of pain from behind him.

He turned and his jaw dropped in shock. The slaves that had fled in panic were back and they were falling on the phalanx from the sides and the rear.

No! These slaves fled in a rout! How did they recover so quickly …

Thaddeus 's eyes widened. I 'm a fool. There was no panic. That was no rout. The slaves had been ordered to disperse and flee and then reform and outflank us!

It never even crossed my mind that green, untrained troops could pull off a maneuver like this! Now my men are completely out of position!

Hemmed against the outer palace wall, the bulky phalanx had no way to turn and before Thaddeus could even give a command, the phalanx formation collapsed. The tight shield wall broke down as the guards spread out to try and reorient themselves toward their enemies.

Training and executing such a flanking maneuver takes great skill even with crack troops. Somebody among the rebels certainly knows what they 're doing. Still, this doesn't alter the fundamental problem that the slaves have no way of getting around our shields.

The rebels fell on the guards like grim vengeance. The guards ' long spears, which would normally be perfect weapons against a slave rebellion armed only with swords, were close to useless once the formation was destroyed and the rebels had closed the distance.

"Drop spears!" Thaddeus roared, as he drew his sword. "Turn and reform! Draw swords!"

The guards did as they were instructed almost before they could even comprehend the orders. However, many guards were already surrounded and had no place to run. The rebels cut them down before they could rejoin the formation.

The guards collapsed into tight ranks again and prepared to make their stand.

There is a positive side-effect to all this, Thaddeus thought grimly. The slaves may have outflanked us briefly and killed some of my men but now they 're trapped. My guards are on this side and the archers are behind them.

That outflanking trick was a bold maneuver but a deeply flawed one and now the slaves have outflanked themselves .

The rebels were now illuminated by the palace torches. The archers, high up on the parapet, quickly started loosing arrow after arrow from behind the slaves.

To Thaddeus 's shock, a grizzled giant of a man with only one eye swung his sword and contemptuously batted away an arrow that had been about to strike the back of his head.

How the hell did he do that?! There 's no possible way that he could have seen that arrow coming!

The rebels began to close in on the guards and Thaddeus felt a tingle of fear.

There came a ringing clatter of metal striking metal as the forces engaged.

The guards should still be able to prevail easily, Thaddeus thought. They have superior training and superior equipment. The slaves somehow pulling off that flanking attack was a blow, no question about it, but they 're out of tricks now.

Now it all comes down to skill and the strength of our men!

The guards fought with discipline and determination. They thrust forward with their short swords and then went to punish any attempts by the rebels to take advantage of this opening by slamming their towering metal shields directly into the rebels ' faces.

Thaddeus watched as the battle played out but his men failed to push the rebels back.

Instead to Thaddeus 's astonishment, the guards were the ones being pushed back.

Thaddeus stared in horror. This isn 't possible! It makes no sense!

It was only as Thaddeus studied the fight that his eyes widened in understanding.

These slaves are amazingly well coordinated. Impossibly well coordinated!

The slaves are thrusting their swords at my guards but their attacks just bounce off our shields. Then the guards try to counter with a shield-slam. But in the process of doing that, the guard is exposed and another slave can attack him while he 's distracted with the slave that they're attacking! The guards have no choice but to give ground or they'll be stabbed in the face!

This is impossible! Even crack troops can 't organize this well in the chaos of the battlefield!

Thaddeus stared in shock at a slender, young girl with mousy brown hair. She looked as if she should barely be able to lift her sword but she was dueling one-on-one with Darien, a hulking guard that was made of nothing but muscle.

Thaddeus watched as Darien thrust his sword at the girl with a sneer of contempt. Darien looked likely to decapitate the girl with one stroke.

But the girl parried. She somehow managed to strike the very tip of Darien 's sword with the ricasso of hers.

Darien 's sword all but bounced away from the girl, much to his shock.

For a seemingly eternal moment, Darien stared at the slender girl in horror as this parry left him completely exposed and he had no way to defend himself.

The girl 's sword was out of position to deal Darien a mortal blow but the girl didn't hesitate. Instead, she simply drove her sword hand forward and struck Darien full in the face with her sword hilt.

Even from a distance, Thaddeus could hear the snap like crunching chicken bones as Darien 's nose broke and he staggered backward, blood staining his mouth.

The slender girl renewed her assault and Darien fought to hold her back. Darien stumbled backward, desperately trying to move his enormous, heavy shield fast enough to block a flurry of sword strokes that alternated between targeting his face or his legs.

This is impossible! Thaddeus thought again. I recognize that slave! She cringes every time that Smite and I go down to the Shelf! Now she 's fighting like a sword master! Who trained these people and how did we not know about it?

"Martin!" Thaddeus snapped to an archer perched up high on the parapet. He then pointed at Darien and the girl.

Martin nodded. He drew an arrow, aimed, and released all in one smooth motion. The shaft flew at the girl 's back.

Without even looking, the girl reached up and caught the arrow out of the air with her free hand.

Thaddeus 's jaw dropped. These slaves aren 't human! What are they?!

Catching the arrow slowed the girl down for less than a heartbeat. She dropped the shaft on the ground and then she renewed her assault on Darien before the guard even had a chance to recover his footing.

The same scene was playing out all around Thaddeus. He had expected the slaves to throw themselves at the guards and to use the sheer weight of numbers to try and wear them down. Under such circumstances, the situation would have been easily managed. Even knowing that the slaves had somehow managed to acquire high-quality weapons, Thaddeus knew that the well-trained men that he had served beside for all these years would fight to the last with the strength born of desperation. No one needed to explain to the guards that if they lost this fight, even if they somehow happened to survive the battle, they would all be held at the mercy of a crowd of slaves eager to pay them back for years of abuse.

But the scene playing out before him had the slaves fighting his guards one-on-one and winning .

Thaddeus suddenly became aware of the witch with the shining, rainbow-colored crown of stars. The witch held an elegant sword in his hand and he walked purposefully through the battlefield as if he had more important matters to be concerned about than the war unfolding all around him.

Thaddeus watched him move through the fight. Wherever the witch went, a rage born of madness seemed to fill the rebels and they flung themselves into the teeth of their enemies. These slaves fought like wild wolves with no regard for their own safety and none of them seemed to even feel the wounds that the guards inflicted.

This would have been dire enough but the witch 's presence had an even worse effect on the guards. Wherever the young man passed, it was as if the fear of death had suddenly taken root in the hearts of these veteran warriors. Their hands shook and their blows faltered. They thought no more about winning the battle but just desperately trying to survive it. These guards would have desperately fled for their lives if they weren't certain that to turn their backs on that human abomination, even for a moment, would be death and worse than death.

Suddenly, the young man looked up and his eyes met Thaddeus 's.

A chill ran up Thaddeus 's spine. He saw me! His mind shrieked out. It was like a child 's fear of the dark, absolute and unquestionable.

The battle is lost! We 're dead! Every single one of us is dead!

Thaddeus stumbled backward, desperately jerking himself out of the witch 's line of sight.

A moment later, Thaddeus managed to tear his mind free of the witch 's influence.

The battle isn 't lost and we're not dead! That's just what he wants us to think! It's what he's forcing my men to think! It 's some sort of spell. He's somehow erasing the slaves' doubts and fears while burying my men under their own!

What is this monster?

Thaddeus suddenly realized that the archers up on the parapet had stopped shooting. Every time that they managed to get a clear shot at the back of a slave, that slave simply blocked or sidestepped or even reached up and caught the arrow without ever looking at it. The archers had just given up shooting in despair.

Thaddeus just stood there, desperately trying to think of anything that he could do to salvage this situation when a shadow fell upon him. He desperately brought up his sword to block as a towering slave with one eye fell upon him like grim vengeance.

Subaru 's anger had subsided, replaced by ice-cold hate.

Subaru cultivated that hatred with fervor. Deep down inside, he knew that when the hatred faded there would be nothing left but more of the same kind of pain and despair that had trapped him in his tiny room for all those years.

Subaru marched through the battlefield, approaching the palace.

One heavily armored guard charged at him, swinging his sword to cut off Subaru 's head.

Subaru simply side-stepped and tripped the guard who crashed down onto the ground, desperately trying to catch himself on his hands and knees so that he wouldn 't fall and his own armor render him unable to rise.

As he struggled, Subaru took his sword and smoothly ran it through the back of his unarmored throat.

The guard gave a choked gurgled and fell to the ground. Subaru cleaned the blade on the guard 's cloak without needing to pause his stride.

Subaru 's face was impassive as he pondered the situation.

I will burn this city to the ground, He thought with a strange form of detached calm. It shall serve as a funeral pyre for my Emilia.

If that does not assuage my rage, perhaps I shall burn Kararagi as well.

And why not? Why should I not burn all of this land from the mountains to the sea?

Anything fair in his world died when she passed from it.

And yet from her death has blossomed a strange form of greatness. This day have I seen fit to bestow the tiniest sliver of my divine being upon those slaves bold enough to take up arms against their masters.

A quiet voice whispered in his mind, My Emilia. Gone. Never again …

Subaru ignored it. I have commanded mabeasts and spirits before but I have never used my power to organize an army of humans. It is a very different sensation.

I see through every eye on this battlefield. Each hand is mine to move as I will. They are my willing puppets. The winning of this battle and the slaughtering of all of these guards is as simple as a game of chess.

Where the mabeasts cringed and were forced to obey me despite their clear fury and the spirits begged to obey in the throes of their adoration, these humans feel as if they have been … embraced by my power. They yearn toward it as a moth to the flame. Perhaps this is because the rebels, in some strange way, chose to accept me. They have embraced my power of their own free will, trusting that I would lead them to victory. Entrusting their lives to my hand in the certainty that I could arrange their lives better than they could ever hope to.

These guards, on the other hand, have been marked by my power but they fight against it. They struggle to keep me out but my will lashes at their minds with visions of doom, death, and despair.

With nothing more than simple concentration, I can amplify the hopes of my allies and bury my foes in fear and despair. The slaves are certain the day is theirs and the guards feel in their guts that they can do nothing but die. Both sides know that what they feel in their hearts must become true: because they believe in it so strongly. Each guard now fights a battle on two fronts, the rebel before him who seeks to cut him down and my own indomitable will that attacks his own heart and mind, tempting him to drop his blade and to flee for his life.

Not that this is at all challenging. I have no need to deceive these men when their own good sense foretells the inevitability of their deaths.

These rebels are mine now. My men, my army, my own, and they shall serve my will.

I 'm all alone now, The broken voice whimpered. All alone. All alone, forever. Emilia …

Subaru shrugged off the voice. And by my will do I shield them from pain and from fear so that they may fight on with untamed fury.

Through our link, I bestow upon them my superlative reason and my unquestionable judgment. I guide their every move and with my mind 's eye, I plan each blow that they strike.

Through my beneficence, I grant them the power to fight like sword masters. Each sword stroke made perfectly, every parry and dodge timed precisely.

Just as I myself fought Julius all those weeks ago.

Songs shall be sung of this day for a thousand years. Sung of these, most fortunate men and women, favored above all others by being permitted to share the tiniest fragment of my greatness.

Perhaps rather than glorifying these rebels, I should instead pity them. I would not be the least bit surprised if each of them, in their own way, surrendered to eldritch madness once my guiding hand is withdrawn.

Poets and storytellers always misinterpret the meaning of eldritch madness.

Madness does not befall a man when he sees a monster, no matter how hideous that monster may be. No, madness comes when an ordinary man for a brief second understands what it means to see through the eyes of a god.

Imagine an ant that was permitted for a single moment to see the world as a man does. For the length of that eternal second, it knows of things like love, hate, embarrassment, and joy: Concepts incomprehensible to an ant.

And then the moment ends.

How does the ant respond?

Haunting echoes of concepts that it cannot begin to comprehend break like flotsam against the jagged rocks of its tiny mind. It cannot do anything with such knowledge but nor can it ever forget it.

It must see such glories again. It needs to see such glories again. It must find a way to experience them, to understand them. Compared to this great calling, all other tasks seem meaningless. These glories are all that it can think of, all that it could find worthy of discussion. Other insects draw away in fear at the intensity of this obsession. And the poor mite will be ultimately crushed under the impotency of its own being. For, tragedy of tragedies, it finally understands the truth: that it is not now nor was ever anything more than a mere insect.

This. This is madness.