In full view, the six-armed giant stood, a curved sword raised in each hand. Though still distant, its towering presence quickened Shar's pulse, her grip on the Vortex Fang faltering for an instant. She tightened her grip on her knife, teeth grinding as she steadied her breath. She was no faithless wretch—her blade would not fail, nor would she fall in this place.

A harsh shuffle of boots on gravel pulled her focus to the rear of their formation. One of the younger survivors, a man barely past his teens stumbled backward, his spear quivering in an unsteady grip. He glanced frantically from side to side, chest heaving so sharply that even from her perch, Shar could see the wild rise and fall of his breaths.

He's going to run, she sighed as she twisted the winds surrounding her into a vortex. Just as the young man turned to flee, she hurled herself from the mountain wall, the wind lashing her hair as she soared toward the ground, and soundlessly landed, blocking the deserter's path with a deadly calm.

For a moment, the young man froze, his wide, wavering eyes brimming with dread. Then, like a cornered beast, his gaze hardened—frenzied violence gleaming in his irises, wild and unrestrained, as though he had nothing left to lose. With a guttural cry, he lunged forward, his serrated spear tip flashing toward Shar's throat. Again and again, he struck, the weapon slicing through the air in frenzied arcs. But Shar moved like a phantom, each thrust passing harmlessly by, as though time itself bent to her will.

With fluid grace, she gripped the spear's pole and swept the man's legs from beneath him. As he toppled, she drove her elbow hard into his chest, slamming him into the rocky ground with a sickening thud, crunch, and the sharp rasp of breath.

It'll kill us all!' the deserter rasped, clawing at Shar's elbow as she pinned him down, his flailing limbs useless beneath her weight.

'Not if I kill you first,' Shar hissed, her lips brushing his ear as her knife pressed against his throat.

She lifted her gaze, her sharp eyes slicing through the head-scratching, slack-jawed bystanders.

'None of us will survive this place alone!' she shouted, easing her hold on the young deserter. His arms dropped slack, and tears streaked his dirtied cheeks. 'If you fight, you may fall—but if you run, you will die. This is not a choice between life and death—it is one of hope or despair, honour or disgrace!'

Standing, she extended her hand. The deserter stared at her, his lip trembling. With shaky breaths, he swiped his sleeve across his face, grasped her hand, and let her pull him to his feet.

Shar rested a firm palm against his chest, feeling the rapid beat of his heart.

'I'm… I'm sorry, ma'am,' he stuttered, his eyes downcast.

'Fear gets the best of all of us,' Shar replied. She tilted his chin upward with two fingers and met his gaze. Then she turned to the onlookers and shouted, 'But keep your heads raised—and have faith!'

All is of the Seer's design,' a female voice whispered. Shar turned to see Sabine—eyes closed, fingers laced—murmuring faint words of devotion, her lips barely moving as though in silent prayer.

With a faint smile across her lips, Shar leapt into the sky, the wind gushing behind, retuning her to the cliff-face where she had been perched.

A thunderous roar exploded through the air, the force of its resounding boom rippling through tissue and bone. Peering down, Shar watched as the giant moved from gradual steps into an earth-shaking march. And from its march, it began to sprint, its six arms thrusting back and forth like the relentless pistons described in the ancient texts.

Just a little closer, she thought, her thrumming heart at odds with the calm of her steady breaths as she patiently watched the giant's advance.

When the massive trunks of the giant's legs slammed down again, the earth gave way collapsing, beneath it and casting the beast into a gaping pit.

'Now!' Shar howled.

The sky erupted in light—countless bolts of blazing fire streaking overhead before crashing into the pit, each impact sending shockwaves rippling through the dust-choked air. Chasing the fire, jagged arcs of lightning struck with the smiting fury of an enraged god, each bolt illuminating the billowing smoke.

The elements continued to raze the land, molten rock bubbling over the edge of the hole and cascading into the pit in fiery streams.

Impressive, Shar thought, watching as heaven's wrath continued to fall.

Alone, none of the survivors could have unleashed such devastation, but together, their strength was compounded—multiplied and sharpened into a single, devastating force. Yet, despite their overwhelming display of power, it was not enough.

This was a creature on the brink of evolution, cradled in the Dungeon's favour. Even if they possessed the strength to cleave mountains into the sea, against the Dungeon's will, they were nothing more than mites scratching at an elephant's toe.

Power alone would not carry them to victory. To triumph against such a force, they needed more—they needed the Dungeon to acknowledge their worth. Without that recognition, no act of defiance would suffice.

Amber blood oozed from blacked fingers as the giant gripped the pit's edge. With a calamitous roar, it launched itself out, rumbling the earth as it crashed down.

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Though still haunting, no longer was the beast a thing of beauty. Scorched skin peeled from its face, and two of its arms hung limp—a shattered ruin of bone. Bloodied footprints marked its staggered steps, and smoke billowed from the empty socket where one of its eyes had been.

For a moment, everyone held still. Whether their confounded silence was borne of the cataclysmic destruction they had unleashed, or the giant's resistance to that destruction, Shar could not say.

The moment shattered as the creature began to charge, its thunderous steps jolting the survivors into action.

'Engage!' Anton bellowed, his voice echoing through the mountain passage as he surged forward.

With a flick of his wrist, he looped his ebony whip overhead. Flames erupted along its length, forming a halo ablaze. Leaping into the air, he snapped the whip downward. The fiery lash struck the giant's chest with a resounding crack, searing flesh and driving the monster staggering backward.

Before the giant could regain its footing, Anton's attendant charged forward, shield raised. A thunderous boom bust through the air as a concussive force rippled outward, slamming into the giant's chest. The beast staggered, then toppled backward, crashing to the ground with a resounding thud.

This was the moment Shar had waited for. Shoving her fear down, she broke from the wall, plummeting with speed as the wind whirled around, twisting into a tumultuous cyclone.

She was the storm—irrepressible and unyielding.

The vortex tore a path across the felled creature, and she soared through its eye. As the giant pushed against the ground to rise, she unsheathed her dagger, carving a jagged line across two of its six arms and its upper chest. She clicked her tongue in frustration, narrowly missing its neck, and rode the cyclone to the far side of the mountain passage.

It was never going to be that easy, she thought, steadying her stance for another strike.

'Second volley!' Franklin cried, his voice cutting through the wind, amplified by an auditory Remnant.

Shar noted how such a lamentable ability as enhancing sound could prove lifesaving under the right circumstances. Had she missed Franklin's warning and rushed toward the foe as intended, she would have been caught in the catastrophic rampage of searing fire and devastating lightening raining down from above.

The scale and force of the far-reaching assault should have drained all involved of every drop of Harmony. Without Franklin's attendant, they could not have unleashed such power a second time. Shar understood the girl's abilities well: by siphoning strength from the willing, she could empower others. Though Franklin and another archer drew the greatest share, Shar felt energy trickling back into her own reserves—a vital benediction from one destined to serve the Seer.

In an instant, the bombardment ceased. Smoke and ash billowed into the sky, blotting out the light. Muscles taut, Shar crouched, poised to leap. She held her breath, her gaze fixed below as the haze began to thin. Through the dissipating smoke, she saw the giant—four arms shielding its head, its body bloodied and bruised but still standing. It persisted, an unyielding monument to the Dungeon's favour.

This time, it did not wait for the survivors to rally. Leaping into the air, it crashed before Anton. Two of its right arms swept forward in unison, cleaving through the air. Anton did not have time to react before the blades clanged into his gold-plated sides, the twin blows battering him skyward like a broken doll.

Anton's attendant rushed the giant, shield held high. In a blur of motion, the monster turned. Its four remaining blades sweeping toward him in a lethal arc. Valiantly, he intercepted blow after blow, the clang of metal striking metal echoing throughout the passage. Each strike sent shockwaves rippling outward as he turned the force of the blows back at the giant, driving it a step backward with waves of concussive energy.

But the monster's furious onslaught only grew in speed and intensity. Whether he slowed or stumbled, Shar could not see—but in an instant, the giant's blades tore through his defences. The searing metal melted through his armour, carving into flesh and bone, and leaving him a mangled ruin crumpled on the bloodied stone.

'Gaius!' A woman wailed, her voice heavy with anguished sorrow. Breaking ranks, she charged toward the giant with wand in hand. Violently branding the wand, she launched blades of ice at the monster, her screams unceasing even as beast shrugged off her fury.

The fool, Shar silently cursed, gathering the winds around her as the giant raised its swords to sever the woman from life.

Just as Shar was about to leap, Anton bust from beneath the ground, Sabine at his side. He lashed his flaming whip around the giant's neck. With a sharp pull, he jerked the giant backward, its feet gouging twin grooves into the stony earth.

'More strength!' Anton grunted, his breath staggered as he braced against the giant's immense weight.

Chimes jingled, and strings hummed with vibrant resonance as the empowering Remnants of the battalion's second line flared to life. Their mystical power radiated through the air, wrapping Anton in a silver glow.

He towed with intensified vigour, roaring his defiance as he pulled the giant to the ground. As Anton uncoiled his whip—holding it behind, ready as strike again, the giant thrashed on the ground, moving to its feet in an instant.

It pulled back an arm and hurled a curved blade toward Anton. He cracked his whip toward the whirling ring of steel, intercepting the serving disk that clattered to the ground. Before he could counter, the giant was upon him. It lifted him from the ground, showering him in salvia as it roared in his face.

'Fuck!' Shar cursed. Without hesitation, she shot toward the giant in a torrent of cycling wind. Lashing out, her blade bit deep into the giant's wrist, causing it to loosen its grip around Anton's head before it could crush his skull into a bloodied mess.

Reaching the far side of passage wall, she spun on her heels, rotating toward the giant, and leapt once more.

With honed lethality, she tore into the giant, spilling amber blood with every slash. Her strikes blurred with speed, too rapid to track, as instinct guided her blade. She darted through the giant's death-dealing flurry, its attacks missing her by the breadth of her hair.

As she hurtled toward the beast once more, she caught sight of a flash of buzzing steel soaring toward her. She could not block nor could she evade the whirling death slicing toward her, yet she did not fear. She was the Seer's beloved—she had faith.

Her faith did not fail her. Barriers of ethereal light shimmered into existence, intercepting the blade's deadly arc. The crash of shattering glass echoed as the blade cut through layer after layer before clattering harmlessly to the ground. Feet first, Shar landed on the final barrier and pushed herself back toward the cliff-face.

Her heart beat heavy in her chest as she gazed below to see her lady stroll across the battlefield. With skin as tanned as her own, and hair just as black and nearly as long, a boy walked by her lady's side. His face was unfamiliar, Shar did not recognise him from among the missing, but then neither did she care.

Her faith had been rewarded—her lady had come for her.

Just as she promised.

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