The kraken wasn't finished.

Despite the glittering venom eating at its wounds, despite the soundwave and the burns and the shattered limbs, it dragged itself forward. Relentless, hateful, and now twitching with renewed urgency.

Its tentacles coiled close. It bunched what remained of its limbs underneath its mass, and… Jumped.

Not high, not graceful. Just enough to slam forward with a brutal lurch of meat and rage.

Faya barely had time to scream.

One tentacle struck her like a battering ram, blunt and wide. It didn't pierce, but it didn't have to. The force lifted her off her feet and slammed her against the canyon floor. She hit the ground hard, pain exploding through her ribs, her vision flashing white.

"Faya!" Weylan shouted… too late.

But someone else was already closing in.

Ulmenglanz.

She came running along the canyon path, her long strides graceful, almost floating, her expression transformed from her usual calm serenity to pure wrath.

Her skin had already taken on the bark-like structure of her battle-form. Her hair whipped around her like vines in a storm.

The moment she saw Faya fall, something broke inside her.

Ulmenglanz didn't hesitate.

She leapt… straight at the kraken.

While it still reeled from its impact, her hands gripped onto its torn hide. Her fingers clawed into its wounds. From beneath her nails, roots sprouted. Thin at first, then thick and pulsing with life.

The monster convulsed as the roots burrowed inside.

The kraken screamed, flesh writhing in spasms as its inner tissue tore. The roots twisted and expanded, splitting its wounds wider, anchoring themselves inside.

Behind her, three green-cloaked figures came into view. Team Green consisted of mages that combined abilities from rangers and druids. They were armed with hunting bows already drawn. Seeing Ulmenglanz entangled with the monster's main mass, they aimed instead for the tentacles, firing with ruthless precision.

One arrow struck deep into the base of a flailing limb.

Another into a mouth-tipped end.

The third hit a nerve-cluster, causing the tentacle to spasm.

And from the other side, Weylan returned.

He'd extended his sword to a sword-staff, held in both hands, holding it like a lance as he charged. One tentacle whipped toward him. But only one, since the others were hurt or occupied. One he could dodge. He ducked below it and rammed his weapon deep into the monster's main body. Then twisted the blade as he pulled it back out.

He took a hit from a limbs backward swing. But it had been worth it.

The kraken writhed. It had lost control of the field.

Ulmenglanz tore deeper, her roots rending the blubbery flesh and piercing organs.

Weylan jumped back and whirled his sword-staff, danced at the flank, relentless.

And the rangers fired arrow after arrow, keeping the limbs from reaching anyone else.

The kraken staggered. Its limbs spasmed without coordination. Blue blood spilled from its wounds, still mixed with the sparkling glitterdust venom, bubbling and hissing.

Then… It collapsed. This time for good. A final twitch. And stillness.

Weylan's hands trembled, still clutched around his weapon, until finally the notification came.

Opponent defeated: Mutated Mimic-Land-Octopus (unique) Level 9: High XP

Ulmenglanz extracted her roots and raced to check Faya for injuries, but was quickly sent over to look for Selvara. Weylan was already on his way to do the same.

Ulmenglanz held the tiny raven form of Selvara safely in her hands, then turned away from the others as the transformation spell finally broke and she took on her fairy form. Safely hidden from sight, the dryad healer cast her healing spells. Her cloak covered her patient, seemingly to avoid the golden light of healing to spill and attract more monsters.

Weylan stumbled a few feet back to the rest of the group, then dropped to the ground, barely conscious. We waved off Faya's concerned approach. "I'm fine. Just… need a moment."

She looked down at him and rolled her eyes. "Men." Then she started casting.

Wounds Weylan hadn't even noticed started to heal. He lay down fully on his back and let her work without further protest.

Silence fell. Up on the canyon's ledge, light still flashed. Green versus red and gold. An especially bright green explosion shattered the blue glow of the canyon and painted everything in an eerie cyan color scheme.

The other lights stilled for a moment. Looking upward from his lying position, Weylan saw tiny objects drop down over the ledge. One caused him to sit up and ready himself to dodge, but it hit the ground a few steps away.

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The spellsinger stepped up to the smoking object and gingerly lifted it up with a gloved hand. Red metal with golden trims, still sparking green lightning. The arm of a plate armor, ripped off at the shoulder. Smoldering flesh still inside.

She dropped the arm with a cry and stepped back.

It sparkled and vanished a moment later. Weylan sighed relieved. Just a revenant.

Before anyone could speak up, a sound was heard from above. Beats. Not like the primitive drums that had reverberated from the direction of the hive. These ones sounded like hammers on thick steel. First one, then a dozen, all in unison. After ten beats, they fell silent again.

A voice cut through the silence, weak only due to distance.

"Who answers when the High-King calls?"

The response thundered, reverberating down into the canyon.

"THE ARCANE ORDER!"

"Who holds the line when all others falter?"

"THE ARCANE ORDER!"

"Who fights as one, in shielded line?"

"THE ARCANE ORDER!"

Voices united in a roaring chorus while the red light of battle spells lit up the sky in rhythm with the chorus:

In warded helms and runed red plate, We march through flame, through curse, through night! Lines unbroken, shields held high, We carve the path in the High-Kings name!

Plate of power, soul-forged steel, Crystal heart, our power feel! Line to line and spell to blade, We bring a storm like gods have made!

Runes ignite as hammers fall, We are the wall within the wall. In silence sworn, in fury crowned, Our oaths are carved in battleground.

Arcane sigils, locked and true, No monster breaks the runes we drew! We are the flame that lights the night, Spell-forged knights who stand and fight!

FOR WE ARE THE ORDER OF THE ARCANE KNIGHTS!

The spellsinger and her bardic teammate looked at each other. She spoke with reverend awe in her voice. "Their leader is using a master-tier bardic technique to unite and enhance their casting. That's way above our league."

Faya was already helping Darken picking up the contents of his backpack. She nodded at the spellsinger and added. "Yeah. And they're overcharging their spells. I can sense them burning their life-force even from down here."

A tiny black form flattered out from under Ulmenglanz's cloak quickly covering the distance to Weylan's still prone form. Too low to be heard above the ruckus above she whispered in a taunting tone. "Lazy sheep herder! Still sleeping while poor Faya has to kill the kraken monster alone?"

He smiled weakly and heaved himself up to let her land on his shoulder. "I'm glad you're alright. For a moment, I thought I've lost you."

She nuzzled her beak at his cheek.

Ulmenglanz clapped her hands. "We have to go. If that fight spills down here, they won't even notice us being cut down as collateral damage."

Weylan palmed his face. "I think I know what they're fighting up there. Silvea mentioned the were-folk asked the Order of the Arcane Knights for help against something she called a siege turtle. Does anyone know what that is?"

Faya tilted her head as if listening, then answered. "That means those green flashes must be the disintegrating breath weapon of a siege turtle. Giant chimeras that have been created as living siege engines by enemies of the Cathurian Empire. There's only three of them, but they are basically unkillable. The order will probably hit it with stun spells until it no longer resists, then lead it away. Once pacified, siege turtles need years to recover the energy to use their breath weapon. Without it, they are quite docile. Still basically unkillable, though. And if you actually manage to hurt them, they have some kind of second wind ability to regenerate enough power to make you regret ever facing it."

Everyone stared at her until she added. "Well, it was in… this story about a handsome prince… You know? The one who had to save the princess from her prison… inside the shell-tower of a siege turtle? The one with the princess with the crazy long hair?"

Darken shrugged and finished arranging his refilled backpack on his back. "Which way?"

The dryad looked at both directions, clearly unsure. She held her hand against the stem of a giant flower that towered twice her height again above her. Her eyes closed in concentration as she communed with the surrounding nature.

Her head turned as if listening to something distant, then her eyes opened and silver light shone out like beacons. She stumbled backward and blinked until the glow faded from her eyes.

Weylan and Faya hurried next to her, ready to catch her, should she fall.

She waved them of, her face lighting up in determination. "We need to go to the hive."

Weylan paused. "But that's where Team Grey went."

The bard from Team Orange looked at him. "Really? I thought we were supposed to keep our distance from the were-bees."

"Silvea told me. Probably for exactly this kind of emergency. They have a mission to collect something from inside the hive." He faced Ulmenglanz. "Why? What was that silver light just now?"

"Divine guidance." The dryad was already moving, unwilling to wait for the others to decide.

Faya furrowed her forehead. "But… Didn't your god… die?"

The dryad' lips parted with a breath she didn't know she was holding, and a slow, trembling smile dared to form. There was light behind her gaze now. Fragile, flickering, but real. The first warmth of belief returning. "Death is but a door. It can go both ways."

She marched faster.

The others followed, still confused.

Weylan mumbled under his breath. "That's not how death works."

* * *

The sound of battle faded in the distance. The chorus had sounded once more, but weaker this time. It was hard to tell if that was because the singers were tiring or if it was just the increasing distance.

He took one last look around and asked Selvara to keep watch, while he checked his notifications.

Skill increased: Acrobatic Dodge (Journeyman I) Choose Journeyman tier skill feat from list.

Skill increased: Dual-handed Combat (Leyman V)

Skill increased: Knives and Daggers (Apprentice IX)

Skill increased: Poison Lore (Layman VI)

Skill increased: Resist Pain (Apprentice IX)

Skill merge: Short Sword into Sword Staff Sword Staff will from now on include all usage of short swords, quarterstaffs, sword-staffs and spears.

Skill increased: Sword Staff (Master I) Choose Master tier skill feat from list

Spell increased: Shadow Gate (Apprentice VI)

He took a moment to take that in. That was… a lot. Everything he used went up two points, two even crossed to the next tier. Dual-handed combat went up even more, but since he was only at Leyman tier with that one, he wasn't surprised.

He wasn't sure if the Voice hadn't mentioned short staff using his sword-staff skill before. But now the skills had officially merged.

He also felt like he was stepping on a beetle away from leveling up to level 7.

Acrobatic Dodge had finally entered Journeyman tier. Only one more tier until he could combine it with his Danger Sense.

He looked at the notification about the Sword-Staff skill. Master tier. That was… huge. He'd probably get whipped if he dared to choose something that important without consulting his master, but it couldn't hurt to look at his options.

There were a lot of them. He looked for the ones Master tier weapon skills were most famous for. Mana powered melee strikes that made them usable at range.

The classics were well-known from legends of the Necromancer War: The most common used basic mana to power sword slashes that unleashed crescent-shaped blades of energy to slice distant foes.

Fire mana conjured waves of flame, water mana formed razor-sharp arcs of liquid, and stone mana hurled crushing hammer blows across the battlefield.

He… didn't get one. Shadow mana could not power direct damage attacks.

There were feats that would enable him to draw three dimensional shadows int the air. That could confuse enemies, but seemed trivial.

One feat used the shadow of his weapon to form a short-range connection, bypassing any kind of armor.

He needed… something special. Maybe… maybe something combining his melee techniques with shadow skating?

He would have to read all feat descriptions very thoroughly. This was his most important combat skill. This decision would form the basis for the combat style he would probably use for the rest of his life.

No pressure.

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