I grit my teeth at the Nahullo before us, who looks just as surprised to see us as we are to see him. His eyes widen under the visor of his steeled helm, and I can see his hands grip onto the Claymore on his hip. But before he can react to attack us, Johnny's hand waves outward with a shout, his eye twinkling with a golden splendor.

 

"Virgil! Now! 'Chaser, Bonfire! Follow!"

 

I'm confused about what's happening for a split second as a cloak of darkness covers Virgil, the man disappearing before reappearing within the Nahullo's shadow made by the morning sun. I draw my Intervention to help, expecting the Nahullo Councilman to strike with thunderous retaliation, but he just stands still, his countenance shifting constantly. He repeats that invariable motion of reaching for the Claymore repeatedly, the man stuck in a fraction of a second.

 

Understanding hits me as I see both Bonfire and Skychaser ready their elements, a blinding orb of fire on the former's forefinger and, on the latter's, a crackling spear of lightning. Virgil also readies his Claymore and Colt, both primed to go through the Councilman's armor, who stands still. But all of this is only possible because of Johnny's eye, his Golden Eye, and minor repeated uses, forcing the Councilmen to be unable to react to the threat around him. So I also prepare my Colt and aim it at the Nahullo as Johnny's left eye dims.

 

And with that loss of golden light from his eye of splendor comes an order, one to strike.

 

"Now!"

 

Virgil is the first to react as he has the fastest reaction speed, and he gores the Nahullo with his charged strike of darkness to allow all the other attacks to hit. Then, a metallic blade comes out of the Nahullo's chest plate from the back as a round of bullets from the late Vernon's Colt splatters the Angel's back with searing lead.

 

Following that, lightning from Skychaser, fire from Bonfire, wind from Sacate, ghosts from Blake, and bullets from Johnny and I slam into the Angel before us. Virgil Flickers away not to get injured himself. Abraham would have joined as well had his attacks not taken so long to prepare, a single second or so not long enough for him to pull nightmares into the waking world.

 

Dust rises from the rocks below as we back up and gather. I glance at Johnny, his eye spotting something through the debris as he yells to us all.

 

"Go! I'll finish this! Get Blightraven! Blake, toss me a blade!"

 

Blake quickly nods and flings Johnny a mass of green that shifts to a longsword in mid-air that the Gunfighter catches before dashing into the dust that obscures even my vision. My eyesight lets me see a world of chains that works even in complete darkness but doesn't work when debris is in the way. It actually makes it even harder to see as each fragment of rock bears its individual light.

 

I hesitate for a fraction of a second as I watch the man enter the dust. I want to ensure he'll be fine, but I've learned he knows what he's doing over my time with him. To disobey an order from the Gunfighter is foolish. Not because he'll punish us or anything like that, but because most of the time, his calls are the right ones, years of experience building up to each.

 

So, with a curse, I follow his order and run behind Bonfire, who has flames bursting from his feet to bolster his speed. Virgil is currently in the lead toward the spire in which Blightraven recuperates, but the man disappears before my eyes, his flesh Flickering into the stone beneath. Over the past few months, he's genuinely learned to use the skill to its limit.

 

I wish I could say the same for any of my skills, but no, I learn something new about them every day. These frozen legs I still have from Madness are a perfect example, and these frosty legs make me move even faster, the toughness allowing me to put even more Ether into them. But as we progress, gunshots and loud clangs bursting from behind us, I start to fall behind, everyone else using various skills to speed up. Lightning flows along Skychaser's skin just as the wind pushes Sacate forward. Even Abraham is faster than me, an apparition of a hand appearing every few seconds to throw him forward.

 

Urgency fills me as the nearby camp of Nahullo begins to clamor, and the dots of distant Nahullo have turned to prominent figures in front of us.

 

So, I take a deep breath as I reach into the Bloody Palm, wanting to use Breakneck to keep up. But, I want to save Strugglers Gasp and Release for fighting, the former having severe repercussions and the latter having a lengthy recovery period. Not to mention I used a Struggers Gasp not long ago; I need some time to mend from it.

 

And within the Bloody Palm, I search for a helpful idea. Usually, I just take whatever I can get without sifting through anything; unlike when I use Madness on a person, I tend to watch a bit of their perspective. But I don't do that for the Bloody Palm because I worry about what I'll see, so when I break into its mind, I use Daydream to prevent its insidious nails from digging any deeper and make me see the thoughts as simple ideas, not situations.

 

I grasp around for thoughts that could be useful, taking a few seconds to sift through the insanity within the artifact. The Daydream keeps my mind from imagining the ideas, but I still find dozens of twisted things floating in the dark recesses of the artifact.

 

From a man burning to death in a tundra while searching for a scrap of food to a man dying of starvation that cuts off his hand to eat, I notice many things that provoke profound distress. But after almost ten seconds of falling behind, I find one that just might be useful, the imagined form of the idea having a high chance to help.

 

It is of a man chasing prey, a petite rabbit that barely keeps out of his reach. The man runs, runs, and runs but never gets the thing. Steadily, his feet blister and bleed from the harsh terrain. Gradually, his ankles sprain and break from the constant shock. Then, slowly, his knees tear through his skin from the relentless pursuit. Eventually, the man falls unmoving as the rabbit skips away.

 

With a sour taste in my mouth, I latch onto that thought, bringing it into reality to transmogrify my Ether into a gaseous form due to the pressure it places on my body. And as I do, I feel an odd sensation on my feet, ankles, and knees. I look down just when my legs strike the ground with an abrupt lack of resistance. My knees, ankles, and feet seem to have lost all the skin, replacing them with muscles and tendons to allow me tremendous momentum. I smile at the admittedly grotesque skill as my body pushes forward with ease, legs pushing off with greater strength than just a few seconds ago. At least I wear long pants to cover it up, though I can foresee them being torn apart soon.

 

Just this boost alone allows me to catch up and surpass a few of the group, but I go one step further, as all that matters right now is speed.

 

The appearance of the second Madness inside my body from the Bloody Palm, each creating a more stressful atmosphere inside my body, condenses my Ether into a gaseous state. And with that transmogrification, I push Ether through my body to advance Adrenaline Surge to Breakneck, the advanced skill filling me with so much power in my muscles that I feel half the weight. I wish I could condense more of my Ether to use this gaseous type for more skills, but my limit with two figments of Madness is enough gaseous for one skill. It should be alright, though, as my momentum propels me to the front of the group, coming side by side with Skychaser, who is shrouded in lightning.

 

I nod to him as we barrel across the loose stone terrain of Starkbluffs, rapidly approaching the spire and the Nahullo around it.

 

We must get to Blightraven before the Nahullo camp bears down on us and before any more Councilmen arrive. We got unlucky with one, but there are only a few in Starkbluffs, so we should be fine.

 

There are only a total of twenty-four Councilmen across all of the Northern Wastes. So the Chairman, their Warmaster, wouldn't send more than a fifth of those for Starkbluffs, right? Certainly not.

 

I force myself out of thoughtful hopes and concentrate my eyes on the Nahullo, now only a hundred feet from us, two dozen of the large northerners on our way to the spire. I scan the figures with my eyes and sigh with relief as I fail to see any modicum of magenta or purple. No Angels. Just some 4th, 5th, and 6th Sigils. We can handle that. Probably. Time to see just how much Bonfire, Abraham, and Sacate have improved. Oh, and how powerful Skychaser really is.

 

A crackling of thunder rises beside me as I pop open the cylinder for Intervention and reload the shotgun, replacing the spent shells with unused ones. I see the Nahullo in front of us raise their arms, bows, and swords, the majority of their weapons. A few crossbows exist too, but no guns. I suppose that makes sense; they are far too large to wield our Colts and, unlike the Pygmies, are not dextrous or inventive enough to make their own.

 

And so, I hit the ground as I see a dozen or so eight-foot-tall figures release their arrows toward us, many loaded with dangerous effects like glints of pale poison or expanding light. From there, I move close to the ground to dodge some projectiles as they loom with stirring wind. Before the barrages land, however, a wave and a shout from Sacate behind me throw a few arrows off course, a wall of verdant wind moving them slightly.

 

Seeing some are gone, I raise Intervention to try and block the few coming directly toward me. Still, before I can, a giant figure, one covered in metal shards that form into armor, convalesces and takes the impact before abruptly disappearing. With a glance, I see Abraham panting profusely; the nightmare brought into the realm of the waking tiring the man out exceptionally.

 

But I welcome the help as I lunge forward to my top speed, Skychaser doing the same. Then, together, we approach the group of Nahullo as those in the front with blades step toward us, grimaces twisted onto each of their pale mugs.

 

One last volley streams toward us before we meet the group of warriors with Claymores, but another Nightmare from Abraham, a malformed entity of flowing steel, obstructs the entire volley now that we are closer.

 

Then, just before I open fire with Intervention toward the Nahullo, several of them hiding behind large shields, a figure shrouded in night appears behind the group.

 

Virgil.

 

A grin comes onto my face as the man puts his Colt against a Nahullo head before opening fire and moving onto another with his Claymore. But, of course, he beat us to them. The man was always faster than me, not to mention his recent advancement.

 

The chaos of his appearance gives Skychaser and me an opportunity as some of those in the front turn around with panic. I charge into one of the Nahullo with a shield, jumping and landing on his mighty shield and introducing Intervention to his face.

 

I pull the trigger exactly as the 4th Sigiled Nahullo twists around with wide-open eyes. A plume of fire and steel makes the immense humanoid fall limp as I use his body to leap forward again, the speed from my skills keeping me away from the nearby Nahullo's swing of its greatsword.

 

And with my leap forward, I go onto an archer in the rear as I do everything to merely get past them. Time is of the essence. Another few rounds of Intervention drop the archer, but not before she gets off an arrow, her rate of fire surprising me. Metal pierces into my shin as I cannot dodge the archer's final act. But precisely as I wonder why she didn't try to shoot me in a more vital place, I realize why as roots emerge from the arrow shaft inside my shin.

 

These roots dig straight into the hard stone of Starkbluffs, keeping me from maneuvering. I try to rip them out but fail as another arrow strikes me in the shoulder during my attempt. Then, hearing a whoosh behind me, I dive to the ground and twist to face my rear.

 

A considerable-sized blade, one longer than I am tall, goes over my head as I see a Nahullo wrapped in faded blue cerulean chains twist his sword to follow through with a vertical slash. His swing has so much power that a line of air follows through with it, cutting deeply into the stone yards away. Rushed by the danger, I don't even check Intervention for more rounds and aim it right at the Nahullo's face.

 

I pull the trigger just as the blade falls toward me, a flash of fire and a meeting of steel leaving my hand soaked in blood and pain. But I can't doze in pain as I hear another whoosh, so I roll over, my shin catching on the arrow. Thankfully, I move just enough for the arrow to go into the hard stone instead of me.

 

Turning back to the swordsman, I see him struggling to lift his blade as his face is covered in burns and streaming blood. With a grunt because of my bleeding hand, I finally check the Intervention, only to be heartbroken as I see it ruined. An extensive gash goes from the barrel to the trigger, where my hand got cut. If not for the durability of the Colt, I would have likely lost the Bloody Palm. Though, the bastard would have just reconnected to me simply like time.

 

But that heartbreak simmers into anger as I see the Nahullo finally recover enough to grip his blade with both hands, each extremity severely burned and bleeding from the Intervention. Then, gritting my teeth, I pull out my dagger and stab it into my shin, ripping out the roots and the arrowhead before kicking myself backward. It's a good thing I was decisive in injuring myself to escape because a weighty edge of steel lands right between my legs as I kick backward.

 

Stone flies up as I hurriedly stand, ignoring the pulse of agony in my shin and shoulder. My eyes flicker over to see why I haven't had another arrow shot my way. I nod in thanks toward Sacate as the man stands over the unmoving nearby archer that hit me. He's unable to reply or aid me anymore, however, as a pale giant clad in dark blue chains throws the native back with a shout.

 

My focus returns to the Nahullo before me as he grunts, the giant blade moving swiftly. I shift backward to dodge the swing as I dart toward his before he can follow through with another. Then, just as I see red fumes from his nose, I take a deep gasp of Ether into my lungs. The intake of Ether makes everyone nearby stumble, Strugglers Gasp, putting them off a foot. Some recover faster than others, yet most of them are my allies who have experienced it before.

 

And as the Nahullo before me stumbles, I leap up with the increased strength of the skill from my Absolution loosening my chains, plunging my dagger right into the giant's skull through his mouth. Then, grabbing his neck with my legs, I rip the blade upward. The light in the man's eyes refuses to fade even with that extreme wound, so I quickly reach into my pocket and grab a shell from Intervention as we fall to the ground. The alabaster giant is stunned by my brutality as I shove the shell into his eye socket and strike it with my dagger, an explosion sending me off his collapsed form as he finally dies.

 

Then, curious about the light blue chains encrusting his blade, I quickly reach down and grab it. My mind roams the Sigils within the thing, three Abbots and two Soldiers. Unable to immediately gleam anything else, I send a stream of Ether into it and almost gasp as a rush of strength fills me, warm energy similar to Blake's, filling my arm and legs.

 

That's how he could use this hunk of steel! It enhances the user with Vigor!

 

Smiling at my new discovery, I whip around to help Skychaser in his battle with two 5th Sigils. The Bado man is the closest to me, and with a grunt, I swing the colossal blade taller than me to gain momentum. Then, planting my foot down again for an anchor as the weapon is still cumbersome, I twist my body to slam the steel edge into one of the Nahullo attacking the electric Bado.

 

The Nahullo spins simply due to the sound the blade makes through the air and raises his own Claymore to meet mine. A deafening clang shakes my innards as the man who blocked the blade's weight now has his forearm bones sticking out of his wrists. I glance at my wrist to see the same issue, only that the Bloody Palm is rapidly fixing it, the skin and bone converging.

 

I meet the man's eyes as he widens his at my comparably tiny form delivering such power. I only wait for a second before feeling a snap in my wrist, the bone going back into place. And so, with a grumble from my stomach because of the Bloody Palm using my reserves to heal, I strike again.

 

This time, the Nahullo can't even raise his blade, leaving my new Claymore to cut him in twain. Once my foe falls, I see Skychaser looking at me astounded briefly as he already felled his opponent with the other distracted by me.

 

Confused, I motion as to what his deal is, as most of the Nahullo are already dead. Skychaser merely turns around and mutters a single word as he darts toward the spire, lightning shimmering around him again.

 

"Monster..."

 

Bonfire is still fighting one, and Virgil is finishing off the last archer right now, the man of darkness' contribution to the fight being the largest. Without him, those archers would tear through us all. But with him appearing behind them initially, he stopped the majority from attacking us.

 

Without waiting for them to finish, I follow Skychaser as I try to ignore my wounded shin. It hurts more than it slows me down, though. But as I trail behind him, the spire getting closer and closer, I curse as I see another Nahullo in steel armor step out of a cave in the spire. Even worse, several figures are beside him. Skychaser and I both slow as we glance at each other.

 

Another Angel and a trio of 6th Sigileds. Fucking hell.