Emily stared at her trembling hands. It took everything saved in her willpower to tear her gaze away from the spot where a human had once been. Her position in the circle formation was right next to where the old man had been pulverized by the troll.

This isn't an adventure, she thought.

Adventures were supposed to leave behind grand stories of unity, friendship, trust and overcoming adversity through teamwork.

Emily's mind fed flashes of the tales she'd hear around Forgedalk: adventurers boasting of their heroics, grateful villagers cheering their names for preserved futures and the satisfaction that came with it all. There were silly fantasies of falling in love after a tough battle, hoisting drinks over a campfire to celebrate a job well done, watching the sunset after exiting a dungeon at just the right moment, ascending the ranks within a guild and earning the respect of their predecessors.

But the harsh truth set in. All of these dreams might be a potential reality, but they were suffocating under the pile of other rancid possibilities. It was the verisimilitude – that the outside world was both cruel and wonderful with its unpredictability.

She remembered how confident she'd been back at the tea shop as Evan McCarthy's dedication and painstaking work was displayed in front of her. There was determination and laughter in generous doses from their new comrades to assuage their fears. Such emotions had painted a pretty canvas for her.

She glanced at the small crater again. Nothing remained but broken limbs and a coating of red paste.

There was no canvas to cover it.

Emily's hands wrung along her healers staff as sweat went from slick to coarse with her dead skin rubbing off her palms. Her eyes still shivered, as if the troll's club had slammed into the side of her head rather than the ground a few yards away.

This isn't- supposed to happen, she thought.

Emily's hands stopped shaking as the grim reality settled on her like slowly poured concrete. It weighed on her shoulders and coursed along her body.

She stood against it and grit her teeth as she stared at the vicious monsters surrounding them. “Bastards. I'll kill them.”

 

 

 

Fury had a simple way of suppressing discipline.

Their battles up until now always had some sort of strategy. Alphonse always had plan A, B, C and so forth ready to go for seemingly every situation as they progressed one step to another.

In this battle, there was no such thing. No one could plan for everything.

Kirie was tired of it - tired of the monsters incapable of mercy or feeling. She decided to also quell that part of herself when she killed the first enemy, because they didn't deserve any of it. If it didn't exist, then she didn't need to consider it until the battle reached its conclusion and everything lay dead at her feet.

The satisfying thunk of her axe cleaving the first deirgu's skull turned the loathing embers into a furious flame within her. The anger flashed in her eyes as two more monsters approached from the side with their crude spears. She swung the axe, entirely ignoring the sharp points from the timid weapons that grazed her arm and thigh. The sting, the hurt, the pain – none of it registered. The axe dug into the side of a deirgu and nearly sliced clean through. The force lifted the monster and drove it into the one standing next to it. She planted a foot on the twitching body and wrenched the axe free. Gravity did its part as she swapped the weapon to one hand and let the blade fall into the neck of the disoriented deirgu stuck underneath its comrade's body.

Kirie halted mid-stride as she saw another group of the monsters fall over each other as the earth roiled beneath them. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Emily with her staff pointed stiffly forward. Kirie saw the anger that mirrored hers. The beastkin warrior had known that there were two possibilities from the newbie adventurers: their legs would either be stayed by fear, or spurred on through hatred. She was glad to see that the latter dominated both of them.

The enemy needed routing quickly. They couldn't linger long with the ogre pursuing Alphonse.

Kirie's hands separated further on her axe and she held it parallel to the ground. She could kill most of them with a couple swings of her active skill, Seat of Carnage. She remembered Alphonse saying it might be a good time to practice her mana usage. She figured, why not now? There was no longer a prominent plan in her head.

“Initiating active skill-” she started.

No...

The words caught in her throat and her arms froze mid-swing as she heard the calm insistence from her inner voice. She recalled the conversation back at the tea shop as they laid plans for their quest.

Alphonse's voice echoed in her head, “...save it in case I can't draw away the tougher enemies to the traps, or if more show up after...”

She stopped preparing her active skill. Her legs started to move first instead of her arms. She glanced over her shoulder to observe Emily.

That's right, Kirie thought. Not yet.

She rushed the stumbling group of deirgu and drove the head of her axe into the nearest one. The air forced from its lungs with a cloud of vomit. The weapon dug into the neck of the one next to it as she pulled back and stepped forward in a single fluid motion. Kirie curled her fingers into an armored fist and brought it back behind her and slammed it into the face of another enemy charging behind her. The deirgu shrieked as it pressed both hands over its pulverized snout. She finished off the second one as it writhed on the ground. The last one screamed as she stepped in front of it and brought the axe up.

“I don't see you laughing now!” She brought the blade down and cleaved its chest.

There's always a plan, Kirie thought.

An unseen enemy bounced against a wall of glowing, melded hexagons as a protection spell was cast by Emily. She stood close by with another protection spell covering behind her as well.

Kirie gave her a thumbs up. “Thanks for having my back.”

The young healer shook her head. “I should be thanking you. You're amazing!”

Kirie stepped around the protection spell and sliced another deirgu. She dodged a sloppy thrust from the other, grabbed it by the face and drove its head into a sharp rock sticking out of the ground.

If only I could laugh, Kirie thought. Maybe I'd feel better?

She remembered how she used to be all those years at the Submerged Oasis. She'd always been itching for a fight back then. There was nothing else for her in that place but to conquer her next foe.

She remembered standing among the mercenaries she'd defeated back at the butcher shop in Forgedalk. The feeling of satisfaction hadn't been there. She'd wanted it, but it seemed to drift away as the ramifications of her actions remained prominent. It felt uncomfortable, like reaching for one's chest when it is in pain and wondering if the heartbeat still pulsed normally.

Kirie answered her own question, No. Because I'm not like these bastards. I'm not even a bit of a monster.

She bat aside a swing from a deirgu's shortsword and drove a foot into its chest. It went flying into a pair behind it and she finished them off swiftly.

Die.

The head of a deirgu flew through the air as she severed it from its body.

Die.

She hacked the leg off another, picked up its dropped dagger and stuck it through an ear.

“Die.”

All the while she was aware of Emily following only a short ways behind. She made sure not to move too far ahead. Another protection spell stood strong on one side. Only a single deirgu managed to get through. Those that might've done the same were too dumbstruck or consumed by fear as they witnessed their comrades fall before the vicious beastkin.

Their forces fell into disarray. It didn't matter how organized they were compared to their other brethren. Nothing would stop this warrior. An augur of pure malice seemed to emanate from her.

A half dozen remaining deirgu took a few trembling steps back to the edge of the forest. Kirie took slow, even steps towards them with her axe held in one hand, dragging behind her through the grass.

They were so distracted that they had completely forgotten the young warrior wielding the glaive. Liam attacked them from behind and cut half of them down before they even had a chance to realize what was happening.

The last monster stared at an axe dripping with blood. Kirie slightly twisted her wrist, and the deirgu's terrified face could be seen in the pasty reflection. The image vanished as the blade dug between its eyes.

Kirie's shoulders heaved as the adrenaline subsided. She took a stumbling step back, rested the head of her axe on the ground and overlapped her hands on the handle.

“I-incredible,” Liam gasped somewhere off to the side. Kirie tilted her head a bit and was relieved to see a look of wonderment and admiration on his face rather than the expected fear.

“We did it,” Asa said. Kirie watched her sister maintain a composed posture as she examined the surrounding forest.

Emily rested her staff over her knees as she bent forward. She overcame a coughing fit and gave everyone a relieved smile.

Kirie was about to speak when a roar reached them from a short distance. There was no time to rest. Alphonse needed their help.

She took a few quick breaths to steady herself and fell into a run. The rest of the party clumsily trailed behind.

Her eyes darted back and forth as she examined their surroundings.

That's right. Always a plan.

 

 

“I think we're going to need a bigger hole,” Ash commented. Her face didn't betray any signs of apprehension.

Alphonse bit his lower lip as he considered the situation. He'd wanted to try his second plan when they left the forest. He'd planned for trolls or other large creatures, but nothing on this scale. The trap was set at the pass a short ways down the road, and he initially intended to save it as a last resort since it meant leading monsters close to Lamfell.

Well, that plan had certainly changed since the village was already under attack. The only good news was that it seemed the monsters had moved off the road outside the pass before reaching the spike pit.

Alphonse trusted that Asa and Kirie had the situation with the deirgu well in hand. He also couldn't help but be impressed with how Emily and Liam handled the situation. Even he had been teetering on the edge of self-control after the ogre's arrival.

The image of the old man being destroyed by the troll flashed in his mind.

This thought didn't instill much confidence. It also meant that one heavy blow from the ogre would surely spell the end for him. As an outworld adventurer with some extra vitality, he might be able to survive a horizontal swing from the monster, but a downward strike into the ground would probably bring him to the same end as the old man – a bloody, tangled mess deep in the dirt.

He noticed Ash reach into one of her waist pouches and produce a clay vial.

“What the hell is that?” Alphonse asked.

“Paralysis powder,” she answered. “Courtesy of our neighborhood alchemist. It won't have the full effects on an ogre, but it'll definitely make it sluggish.”

“Fair enough. Just make sure I'm nowhere near that shit.”

They sprinted down the dirt road. Ash moved to the right side while Alphonse took to the left. He glanced over his shoulder and was glad to see that the ogre remained at the center, unsure of which enemy it wanted to attack. Alphonse influenced its decision by drawing a dagger and flinging it with only a brief pause in his run. The ogre lifted its arm and the dagger dug into its wrist.

The ogre was now convinced that Alphonse pissed it off the most.

“Puny human!” the ogre roared.

As they ran further, Ash turned off further to the right and sprinted off the path while still remaining within the ogre's sight. Alphonse took a more subtle, diagonal route along the road and naturally started to move towards the center as if he planned to regroup with the fox woman. The ogre mirrored his movements from behind and angled back.

After a few more heavy steps, the ogre's foot suddenly met nothing but air. The road collapsed and its foot fell into the concealed hole dug with the assistance of Emily's earth magic. The other raised leg drove its knee into the pit's edge. The ogre's arms flung forward wildly and collapsed to the other side as its upper body continued forward. The hole only reached to its shoulders, but the thick, sharpened sticks protruding out the bottom of the pit made up for it. The ogre howled as the spikes dug into its feet and tore through some of its toes. Alphonse could feel the air expel from the ogre's lungs as its chest collided against the side of the hole, briefly dazing it while the spikes held it in place.

Ash turned and raised the clay vial. She flung it into the ogre's face and it shattered on impact. A red cloud burst forth and enveloped the monster's head. Some of the thick powder caked the monster's mouth and filled its nostrils with poisonous fumes.

The ogre planted both hands on the ground and flexed its muscles as it attempted to hoist up. A gross squelching sound came from its feet as some of the spikes came free.

Ash appeared on one of the ogre's sides and drew one of her scimitars along its exposed throat. A fine spray of blood spewed, and the ogre instinctively reached for its neck to stifle the bleeding. The wound wasn't deep enough - not even close with such thick skin, but it did add a few extra seconds the monster would spend in the hole.

Alphonse aimed for the ogre's head as the monster tucked its chin towards its chest. He thrust forward and the point of his shortsword stuck into the monster's head. Barely. The tip dug less than an inch.

You've gotta be kidding! Alphonse jumped back as the ogre brought its wrist across. 

“Just keep trying for the neck! Its skull is too damn hard!” Ash shouted.

The monster's arms flailed as some of the spikes reentered the lacerations in its feet. Alphonse stood just out of reach and flung a dagger. He missed the mark and the dagger flew to its head. The short projectile may as well have bounced off steel. It only seemed to make the monster angrier.

Yeah, definitely not a troll, he thought.

“Cowards!” the ogre roared.

It grabbed the club laying on the ground in front of it and lashed out. Ash attempted to take advantage of the wide swing but almost had her leg seized by the ogre's free hand as it unexpectedly let the spikes dig deeper into its feet. She settled for prodding at the monster to keep its arm occupied. If they kept up with feints and safe attacks, then the ogre might wear out until it eventually succumbed to the many small wounds. It also gave the rest of their party plenty of time to catch up.

It wasn't the cleanest strategy. Alphonse figured the monster would lose its mind after a while and lift itself out as their blades sliced into it. Its arms seemed to have a tough time lifting its absurdly unnatural body. The spikes certainly made it more difficult, and the poison instilled enough of an effect to disorient it, but didn't do much else.

For a moment, Alphonse was certain this was going to be a battle of attrition, but then he saw the ogre's eyes grow as wide as saucers. The membrane that coated its sclera started to glow an angry crimson and shifted over its dilating pupil to absorb the blackness. The ogre's arms stopped moving and rested on either side of the hole. Its mouth parted as if it saw something both terrible and awe-inspiring.

Alphonse and Ash backed away, expecting some sort of spell as the red of its eyes grew more intense. The strange hue blinked out of existence, and the ogre's eyes retained its natural color, almost as if a light bulb suddenly went dead.

Precise wounds started to open along the ogre's body and oozed some strange black, viscous fluid. The black markings on its body writhed and reshaped into sharp points that slowly crawled along its limbs to create more incisions.

The ogre's mouth opened and closed in disbelief as it attempted to speak. It looked down at its chest as a vertical line formed and the skin folded aside to reveal the muscle underneath.

“No,” the ogre breathed. Its voice raised a few octaves and it stared at the sky. “No! No! I did as you asked! The black-garbed one is right here! I can still...I-”

Its words cut off as another vertical line formed on its forehead and split open. More of the black sludge-like substance poured forth and crawled along its face.

Alphonse and Ash backpedaled further away as a fountain of the disgusting fluid burst forth and enveloped the ogre's mouth.

The ogre let out a terrible, gurgled scream that seemed impossible for something of its stature. It would have better suited a child that had experienced some great loss.

Alphonse stared in horror as the high-pitched wail erupted from the monster's mouth when the pain escalated to an intolerable scale. Alphonse had never heard something so horrible and filled with anguish as he did now. It wasn't a roar that came from this monster. It was not a bellow, a howl or even a heavy sob as agony consumed it. It was truly a scream that begged for an end to its unbearable existence.

More of the black sludge crawled along the ogre's arms and proceeded to consume its form. The fluid bubbled from its eyelids, nose, mouth and ears.

“No, please!” the ogre gurgled through the slime as it began to harden. The ogre planted its hands on either side of the hole and pushed itself free in one motion. It collapsed and crawled forward along the ground and clawed at the hard earth, leaving deep gashes as its nails tore into it feebly.

The ogre looked at Alphonse pleadingly for a moment before it rested its forehead against the ground. The monster grasped at its head and screamed, “Kill me! Kill me! Please...I beg you...Gods, please...He's -”

Alphonse felt the tears running down his face as the ogre's screams fell to a whimper. He didn't know if he felt remorse for the monster's incredible suffering or if it was a reflex from witnessing pain beyond what seemed possible, even if it was from such an inherently violent creature. Its face almost seemed human in those final moments as it submitted to whatever it was that enveloped its body.

Alphonse knew that the ogre was gone when he stared with mouth agape as the monster's hands settled underneath it. The thing that was once the ogre stood straight and loomed over them. Its eyes were devoid of life when it looked back and forth, as if witnessing the world for the first time.

Its jaw unhinged sickeningly as it observed Alphonse and Ash.

“Kill...the black-garbed one,” it muttered.

The monster's back exploded in a geyser of black slime. The fluid curled and twisted as it assumed distinct shapes and waved threateningly behind it like snakes snapping at prey. Two of the strange tentacle-like appendages hardened into sharp points and dug into the dirt a few feet in front of the horror-stricken Alphonse.

He took a few delayed, stumbling steps back as he watched the ogre fully transmogrify into some other ghastly being. It still retained the body of an ogre, but the black sludge had morphed into something else incomprehensible. The tentacles ejecting from the ogre's back went into a frenzy as it took a few sliding steps towards them. The spiked club dragged behind it and the flail was now attached to its wrist permanently as the black fluid hardened around the handle.

Alphonse's mind struggled to form words, but none could express his feelings in that horrifying moment.

The sounds of panting and heavy footfalls behind him jarred him awake. The rest of his party must've finished off the rest of the deirgu.

Alphonse turned and shouted, “Get back!”

The former ogre jerked its head up and fell into a run, as if it was being controlled by some higher power. Its arms swung as if manipulated by the strings of a puppet master.

Alphonse watched as his other party members arrived with Kirie leading the charge. They veered off to avoid the ogre as it barreled straight up the middle of the road. Alphonse knew it was far too fast for them all to avoid it completely.

“Protection!” Alphonse heard Emily and Asa shout in unison as they formed two walls of melded hexagons.

The ogre easily broke through the first one without breaking stride, but it was slowed somewhat by the second; however, it still charged through them both completely in a shower of shards like shattered glass. It locked on to Alphonse and proceeded with long strides.

Alphonse opted to focus on the ogre's movements to determine the trajectory of its attack. Dodging to the side might've been a viable option if the creature wasn't so ungodly fast for its size. He eyed the club and flail to see which weapon it would use.

But then he saw Kirie charging from the side with her axe readied for a heavy swing.

“No! Kirie!” Alphonse screamed.

Too late. Momentum carried the catgirl forward and she shouted, “Initiate active skill, Seat of Carnage!”

Her weapon glowed crimson and erupted with the blood-red flame of her active skill. A similar aura traced the contours of her body as Asa instinctively provided her with an extra attack buff from the damage retained by her protections spells, but it was rather lukewarm given that she wasn't entirely prepared for Kirie's sudden offensive.

The axe dug into the ogre's side. The flames erupted outwards in a V-shape from the dual blades. Kirie gritted her teeth and screamed as the axe dug a few more inches. The axe broke through the foreign material that had hardened and cut halfway to the monster's navel. The black fluid spurt forth and some of the ogre's innards spilled out and dangled through the air. The intestines had assumed a similar dark color with cracks that coursed along the organs.

“Holy shit,” Alphonse breathed. He knew Kirie was a force to be reckoned with, but even he hadn't expected such strength.

The air caught in his throat when he observed the ogre's face. The wound should have been devastating, but the monster just stared placidly down at the catgirl. It made no indication that it felt what should have been a near-killing blow.

Kirie's eyes widened in disbelief as the monster brought back its spiked club in preparation for a horizontal swing. The beastkin warrior angled herself away as the ogre took the step back to prepare its motion. She managed to slightly remove her axe from the thick sludge that poured from the wound. She brought the handle up and braced herself as the tip of the club collided with her weapon. The end glanced off and continued on to crumple a portion of her chestplate. One of the spikes riddling the club pierced through one of her pauldrons and tore off a chunk of flesh from her shoulder. Blood spewed forth as a second spike sliced beneath her armpit and tore through her chainmail as if it was rice paper.

Alphonse could hear Asa's screams as he watched Kirie lift from the ground. She launched through the air and was sent all the way to the edge of the road. She hit the ground hard and pitched through the air before slamming sideways into a nearby tree. Alphonse could practically hear the air forcing from Kirie's lungs as she made impact. She collapsed facedown and lay in the grass unmoving. Her shoulder was fully exposed where the metal and skin had torn off. A length of her torn chainmail meandered uselessly under her arm.

Alphonse's mouth opened and closed slowly as he took a few trembling steps towards the unconscious catgirl. She was tens of yards away, but he could clearly see the blood trickling from the grass to meet the dirt of the road.

“K-Kirie?” he stammered. He felt his legs give out underneath him and he stared dumbstruck. His eyes refused to let him look away. The world around him went mute. It was as if everything had entered slow motion. He saw Asa rushing over to her sister, but he couldn't hear her distressed cries anymore. Emily and Liam stood frozen in place as they stared at the horrible scene.

The sound of the ogre's heavy footsteps was muffled as it turned towards Alphonse. It grasped at its head and started pounding the handle of its flail against its forehead as it screamed along with them, as if it shared their anguish.

Kirie...Kirie... Alphonse repeated her name over and over. The sounds of the world slowly started to retain their former clarity.

He saw the caked blood in Kirie's hair as Asa turned her over and prepared a healing spell. The catgirl's eyes and mouth were closed, as if she was simply taking a short rest. Blood was seeping through the creases in her armor where her chestplate had caved in.

Alphonse grabbed at the sides of his head and tore at his hair. If he pulled hard enough, maybe he might wake up from this nightmare.

But he was wide awake.

The ogre lifted its club again and took a step away from him. One of its feet was now pointed towards a new target: Liam.

The ogre opened its mouth to speak. Its words were now an amalgamation of two distinct, and vastly different voices. One was the deep pitch of despair of the original monster, and the other was one more cold and succinct, almost serene. The mixture sounded like something demonic.

The ogre screamed, “Initiate active skill, Gorge of Totality!” It slammed the club into the ground and sent a rushing fissure towards the other warrior of the party.

Liam managed to move himself away on instinct, but the erupting stone seemed to follow his path and exploded at his feet in a geyser of stone and dirt. The young adventurer flew straight back into a boulder that rested on a portion of the road. His armor did little to reduce the impact inside his body. His upper body lurched forward, his mouth opened and a spray of blood splattered over the ground. He almost seemed suspended against the rock before he slid and fell to a slumped sitting position. His arms went limp with his palms facing the graying sky.

Sound now fully returned to Alphonse as he heard Emily screaming for her brother. The healer collapsed to her knees next to him and desperately prepared a healing spell. She pressed her hands against his chestplate and rested her head against his shoulder as her screams descended into quiet sobbing.

Alphonse shifted his gaze as he noticed the exaggerated movements of the ogre in his periphery.

It's all...falling apart...I can't... his thoughts froze as the ground rumbled beneath him.

The ogre turned sluggishly and made its way towards him.