The enemy crushed down against them in a living tide; the wretches clawed and struck out wildly, ripping with their long obsidian nails at any flesh, any exposed limb, anything they could clutch and tear. Nic’s blade cut them down in heavy, sweeping blows, taking all the strength his arms could give to mow down the opposition; sweat clung to his body and blood dripped from his face where a dozen thin wounds had appeared, healed, and been torn open again.

Nic had fought countless times…

But this was a slaughter.

The light was blocked out by the bodies around him, coming in thin flashes through the lock of claw and blade threshing each other down…

Nic did everything he could to protect those around him, but in truth, he was one body in a tide of hundreds. He watched in horror as a fighter with a spear was seized by the enemy, pulled into their ranks…

An E-Class wretch was already tearing through the chaotic battle, aiming to slaughter this human and ascend…

Nic was nowhere near close enough…

And then an arrow burst through the spearman’s throat, killing him. Making him useless to the enemy. Nic caught sight of Shakes, deep in the battlefield, his bow still reverberating from the shot…

And then the battle continued.

There was no room to breathe, no pause between one enemy falling and the next pouring into their place. However many he killed with one breath, he would need to kill just as many with the next. They ceased to be even vaguely human in his eyes. They ceased to be anything…

A wall of flesh was pressing down against his forces and he could only push back, ripping and tearing, feeling flesh and bone sunder under his sword.

Until he broke free.

Until the sound of screeching, pained howls and the steady rhythmic thump of blade meeting flesh collapsed into sudden silence.

He cut one more time, and as the five wretches reaching for him were torn to nothing, no more poured in to replace them. The heat of being surrounded by fresh blood and living bodies abated, peeled from his skin by the press of cool, clear wind.

The bodies before him slowly melted into the grass, dissolving into nothing.

All around him the humans gasped and let out sobbing cries of relief, collapsing onto their backs or sinking to their knees as they panted desperately, fear and anger unwinding with every breathe…

Three had died.

One was the spearman, Hauff, who'd simply pushed himself too far. Maybe it had been overconfidence, or maybe he'd simply been confused, swept along by the tide of battle...

Either way. A step beyond his limits and the wretches had been able to drag him into their mass. Only Shakes' arrow had kept his death from becoming a disaster that birthed a D-Class threat.

The second was Jaffin, a boy from the orphanage, barely nineteen. Nic remembered him as a solitary, quiet type. He’d rushed to help the failing defenders and been pulled into the mob as he overextended himself. By the time Nic had been able to reach him…

There was nothing but a twitching, torn-apart thing, its flesh clawed off from its bones in stringy tatters.

The last was a backliner, a woman who could conjure beams of golden light. She’d been caught out by a winged wretch and hauled over the pit…

Her scream had dropped into the chasm’s mouth with her body, and ended far below.

“Sofia… How many did I kill?”

Individual Tally:

Nicolas Winterhome - 64

Settlement Tally:

Winterhome - 179

One hundred seventy nine…

It had felt like a thousand. It had felt like an era of war, but it had only been a few minutes at most. His entire body was dripping with ribbons of blood.

A scream from behind him startled Nic out of his own mind.

There were still wretches trying to crawl away, either badly injured or simply cowardly. Lou, the halberdier, was rushing forward. His long axe chopped down, and his spike stabbed out. The miserable creatures were broken bone and flesh, or pinned to the earth to struggle and gasp out their final breaths.

More and more were coming to join him, and they screamed as well, raw and ragged shouts of anger bursting from their throats. So much bloodshed had left them…

Terrified?

Exhilarated?

Addicted.

After fighting non-stop, fighting for life and limb, it was easier to just keep fighting than to remember who they’d been just minutes ago, before the fighting back.

Nic turned and looked across the chasm.

Two of the streams of wretches had fallen on the far side, and by now, they’d turned against each other. The fights there had been just as brutal…

But they had clear victors.

Dull roars and thudding blows could be heard as two enormous monsters clashed. They both had the red skin and lava-stone armor of the wretches, but the shapes beneath had distorted. One was huge and shaped like a landbound dragon, with four legs, a long tail, and a ridge of thorns rising out of its spine; the conical ‘muzzle’ that clamped down on the wretches’ faces and tormented them with endless flames had split open, becoming a long beak that vented fire with every roar and cry.

The other was a massive avian, tearing at its opposition with long, curved talons.

In the background Nic could even see a third goliath- a massive twin-tailed scorpion, slowly retreating down into the pit as its brethren fought.

These were the E-Class forms the winners of the slaughter had taken. With no human interference, they’d been able to quickly evolve, then mow down their brothers and sisters to evolve again; now the only way forward was to kill off either hundreds more wretches, or a single one of their hunters.

It was a very, very good thing these two had gotten locked in fighting instead of coming for Nic’s side…

Nic looked briefly at his comrades. They were worn out, bloodied, and shaking with a mix of adrenaline and fear. When the adrenaline faded, the fear would remain.

“Inkspur? Tell them to retreat…”

As the little wyvern took flight, shouting out his message, Nic led the way back into the forest. They weren’t giving up…

But they were biding their time.

One by one, they vanished into the woods.

---

The injured took out healing pearls while their allies helped bandage them up, the healthy standing guard. They hadn’t taken any of Winterhome’s healers with them on the expedition; they only had two, and both were a liability in combat. The spiders’ healing gifts would have to make do.

Nic walked among them, nodding as people called out to him to say…

He hardly heard.

Some of them wanted to brag about killing ten, twenty…

Others were congratulating him, with fear in their voices…

He simply kept walking, letting Inkspur answer for him. His job was to be seen. To assure them they were being watched over.

But his hands itched to go back into combat.

They’d only fought on the outermost edge of the hunting grounds. He’d had to restrain his Primordial Mist, his best tool for slaughter, out of fear for his own troops getting caught inside…

His Warform, his Sun God’s Dictate…

He could’ve kept fighting for another hour on his own. Now, the enemy Settlements would be rushing ahead; they’d go where the fighting was thickest and mop up the wretches while they were weak. If he didn’t arrive soon…

The hunt would enter the second, harder phase. When only the few evolved wretches were still alive, and would be stalking the hunters from the shadows, searching for chances to make their own kill.

At that point, a single kill could set off a chain reaction. An E-Class monster could easily pick off another hunter, and rise to D-Class…

At that point even all the Settlements working together would struggle to bring the beast down.

“Sofia? How far away is Winterhome?”

“Nearly a day still…”

Nic nodded. Once Winterhome was here, they’d no longer have to worry about defense. But until then…

He sighed, and went to find Shakes.

The boy was seated by a tall and slender willow, his head leaned back, watching clouds drift between the branches. He sensed Nic coming and raised an eyebrow. “Happy with today’s performance, Nicolas?”

“Happy enough.” Nic said gruffly. Then, he shrugged. “It’s what I could expect, and only losing three…”

“Three for over a hundred. It’s not bad.” The boy said in consolation. “But I can guess what you’re thinking.”

“If we’re not going to fall behind, I have to go on the offensive.” Nic waved his hand and Redjaw leapt out as a shadow that expanded into full-size; the lindworm let out a deep, huffing groan of pain as the cool wind brushed over its burn wounds.

“Take Redjaw and keep everyone safe. Patch him up if you can. I’m going into the pit…”

Shakes nodded.

“That I can do, Nic.”

---

Nic descended quickly down the outermost layers of the chasm. In the days to come, guarding the upper reaches would become a priority as the beasts inside clambered out. For now, the only life Nic saw was a few scattered wretches who’d escaped the slaughter above by crawling down into the rocky labyrinth of footpaths and sheer, sudden drops…

He let them be. At this point, he’d only lose more time chasing after trash like that.

The bottom of the pit was a single mountain of loose rubble rising out of a dark, still lake, the waters suspiciously calm. As Nic crossed the final distance by flinging himself down, he saw a shadow move below-

As he plummeted through the air a massive set of jaws burst up through the lake’s surface, water streaming between massive teeth. Nic grimaced.

Being eaten was not his favorite way to end a fight.

Instead, he threw his scarf towards the far wall. The poor garment hadn’t been the same since it had gotten torn up, but it was strong enough to serve as an anchor when it was wrapped in sticky aura. He swung down, landing with one foot against the side.

The beast, sensing dinner wouldn’t be dropping politely into its mouth, began to dive again.

Nic pulled grenades from his bag and tossed them down. Flashes of flame and poison shrapnel boiled under the lake, and with a panicked cry the beast began to haul itself up onto the mountain of rubble that emerged from the water…

It was a massive, serpentine thing. A wretch-worm. Two rows of rocky black horns ran down its skull, while its body was flat and long to propel it through the waters. It turned and roared-

But Nic met the cry of defiance by drawing his bow, his back anchored firmly to the wall as he planted shot after shot into the lake-dwelling monster’s eyes and head. With each pluck of the bowstring, Hollowsong filled the chasm with echoes.

The driving force of this bow was much better than his old one. The arrows dug deep, one after the other, and Nic released the poison-mist snare to keep it from retreating back into the lake. As its body filled with thorns, the beast thrashed against the misty chains, fighting simply to escape…

And at the last moment a darting motion at the edge of Nic’s eyes caught his attention.

An old, thin man was running straight across the surface of the water. Each footfall made a small ripple explode out from under his bare heels. His speed was incredible, and although Nic drew back an arrow to fire, by the time he’d gotten a lock on his target-

The old man had already arrived. With a single flick of his quarterstaff, he caved in the wretch-worm’s skull. The impact of that simple, flicking blow lifted the creature’s long body up into the air for a moment, before it went crashing down into the lake with a rising wall of water.

In that enormous splashing impact, Nic lost sight of his new opponent.