The Lamellan Titan stomped and the earth itself heaved. The battlements of Haarwatch shifted, jolting beneath Atar’s feet in an eerie rendition of a ship at sea; he stumbled and was only saved from tumbling off the wall by his stave’s sharpened end. With a desperate twist, the claws hidden in the tip latched tight to the rock, and he threw his free hand over the crenelation to steady himself.

pull with all your strength, child! you will not perish here, not to these fungal weaklings!

“Quiet, Flame!” Atar hauled himself back to his feet, yanking his stave from the dressed stone with a weary grunt. “These damn Lamellans are bad enough. I don’t need you in my Mind as well!”

All around him, Atar saw evidence of the Titan’s stomp as well as its spores. Where they hadn’t ripped into lungs and burst from chests, they had inflicted a sort of euphoric daze that was quickly followed by a brutal, berserker rage. Haarguard fought against Haarguard where the spores still hung thickly, the mages dedicated to burning them from the air having fallen victim.

“Damnation and Ruin,” Atar cursed. “Incendiary Vortex!”

A significant measure of Mana ripped from his channels, bursting alight as a streamer of white and crimson flame before coalescing into an air-borne wheel. The wheel raged, a truncated, spinning cyclone that pulled the spores from the air and burnt them to a crisp. Haarguards fell, partially burned, but alive. Free.

Better to be dead than a slave to some vile Condition.

join us together, and we may burn them all from the face of the continent, atar!

“I said, quiet!” Already the last Titan was standing from its catastrophic stomp, readying itself to charge the wall like all of its fellows once had. Despite being taller than the wall itself, the thing was shaped vaguely as a man, but with a wide mushroom top for a head and thick, stunted limbs, all made of slick, fungal flesh. Most importantly, it was covered in wounds—evidence of their bitter battle. Atar stabbed a finger at the recovering guards and Claw members, all of them spread out atop the wall. “There’s only one left! I plan to sleep for two days after this, but we have to end it first! Mages! On my signal!”

A weary chorus of shouts met his words, not nearly the same enthusiasm Felix would have engendered, but it was enough. The forest and fields before them were aflame, merrily burning with the consequences of their protracted battles. Their little army, rag-tag and mostly underleveled as it was, had put up a savage fight these past few days. The mushroom monsters had eked out some wins, but only for a dire price—and for the most part the wall had done its job. The spiders had swarmed them too, but they had been dispatched as of that morning, the last of their disgusting Orb Weavers turned to putrid goo. The field of battle was a ruin, a blasted wasteland filled with the smoking remnants of Lamellan Crofters and huge Orb Weavers, with small conflicts bursting up and down the wall. Here, however, they had one last hurdle to overcome.

“One more and we can rest,” Atar muttered to himself. He barely knew where his friends were, only that Alister was off down the wall, while Zara, Harn, and Darius were leading regiments in other sections. All he knew was the forty-stride section of the Sunrise Wall, where he and the mages had made their stand.

The Titan started moving, tromping toward them on its wide, fungal-flesh limbs. Its wide-brimmed head wobbled with every quaking step, but its movements belied its astonishing speed. It would reach them in a few heartbeats, only.

“Steady!” he shouted.

The Titan sped up, its Body blurring suddenly at the edges, and Atar held his breath. The creature stumbled, but its center of balance was too low to be outmaneuvered so easily. It tossed its cap-head, releasing another cloud of fetid spores. Atar burned them out of the sky just as a figure leaped from the shadows at its feet.

“Bindings of the White Waste!”

Purple-white chains of Mana tore across the last Lamellan Titan, binding its trailing arm with a deep, bitter frost. It didn’t freeze so much as desiccate, withering down even as it became locked in place. The Titan bellowed in its windy-wheezing voice, confused and angry as Evie landed atop its head, chain whirling above her.

“Ugly as you are stupid! Tooth and Claw! Bonds of Dominion!” Evie brought her chain down, its edge turned to vicious blades and spikes that dug deep into the Titan’s cap—driven far deeper than such a slight girl seemed capable. Its ridged gills rippled, the inside exposed to the air as the Titan screamed anew and tried to move…and found more chains somehow binding it tight. “Atar! I can’t hold it long!”

“Mages! Fire!” The word left his mouth and the world lit up in a deluge of flame, acid, and lightning.

“Astrum Revelation!” he continued, pulling at the Flame in his core for more and more power. It gasped in delight, a white patch of fire that danced in his center, before pushing a tide of Mana through his channels. Atop his head manifested flames in the shape of a crown with nine prongs on it and a single, tenth shard floating at its peak. The spell was dangerous as it increased the potency of his fire magic but infused him with…reckless emotions. Atar gritted his teeth as the giddiness of the Flame suffused his Spirit and Mind, stoking the readily available emotions of aggression and disdain inside of him.

finally. finally you have listened to reason, the Flame purred at him. only together might we beat back such a harrowing enemy. only together can we dominate this land.

Atar laughed. He couldn’t help it. The power felt too good. “Stars of the Sovereign!”

White, four-pronged motes of flame appeared all around him, at first a handful but soon twice that and twice again. And again. Until Atar felt himself suspended in a sea of stars, each burning so hot as to melt Untempered steel by their sheer proximity. To him, under the influence of his Revelation, they were a gentle breeze on a warm spring day.

He pointed right at the Titan. “Go.”

The Stars, every single one of them, ripped outward at once. What once might have looked like rainfall had become a torrent of flame, a river of Stars that sought out the Titan with unerring speed. Sparkbolts and Levin Bolts that had torn more holes in the Titan’s flesh were consumed, burnt up by Atar’s power. As was the weakened and trapped mushroom beast.

“YES. BURN,” Atar laughed, though part of him struggled against the feeling of giddy superiority. His Willpower clashed against the Flame itself, which had bloomed within his core so that it filled all of its obsidian cage.

no! it must die before us, atar! i will show you how it must be!

Atar didn’t speak, merely hurled the rest of his impressive Willpower and Intent at the Flame. He envisioned it dwindling, fading, the look of embers and ash at the end of a long, cold night.

stop! stop!

The fire mage ignored its pleas, pressing his Will against the Flame’s until the winged shape buckled and broke. The Flame collapsed upon itself, spouting dark ashes and flurries of molten embers. It shrieked in annoyance and frustrated ego, like a deflating bladder of hot air.

“I…said…quiet,” Atar panted, fully back to himself. The crown had vanished, along with the passive boost it gave his fire magic. He snapped his head up, panning the field of battle before sagging against his stave. “Highest Flame, it worked.”

You Have Killed A Lamellan Titan!XP Earned!

You Have Earned a New Title!

Champion of the Fungal Forest (Rare)!

You have proven yourself in extended combat against the legions of Lamellan, and have even bested a Lamellan Titan! +15 to VIT, END, and WIL!

Stars of the Sovereign is level 81!

Astrum Revelation is level 74!

Only one more level and I can complete my Spirit Temper into Adept. Atar waved the notifications away, barely taking a moment to enjoy the boost of clarity—both mental and physical—that came to him upon gaining fifteen stat points from his new Title. He’d already earned Warrior of the Fungal Forest, as had everyone else that fought against the damnable Lamellan. He wasn’t concerned with Titles.

“Evie!” he shouted into the waning afternoon light. For the first time in days, the fields just outside Haarwatch were quiet. Soldiers all down the line were regrouping, quaffing potions, getting healed, or otherwise staring out into the empty stretch of blasted terrain before them. The last Titan lay among the mud and muck, far closer to the wall than Atar had expected. Its huge, fungal body was now a charred ruin. The withering of her cold magic had primed the monster for his flames, allowing them to eat through its wounded hide without impediment. “Evie, are you alive?”

“Unfortunately,” came the answer. Her voice was a bit muffled until a chunk of ashen fungus was hurled away, revealing Evie covered in soot and something viscous. “I didn’t think these things had guts.”

Atar grimaced, scrunching up his nose. He was unable to smell the girl but that didn’t mean he had to take chances. “Foul. Must have liquified its insides during our combination of magic.”

“Right. Right. The Frostfire Combo. Worked again, eh?” She whipped her hair back, which had come loose from its elaborate braid atop her head and started plaiting it again. She paused, then looked up at him with a grin. “Wait. Were you worried about me?”

“What? I merely did not wish to waste our combat resources,” Atar said, and made a show of fixing his robes. He pointed further afield. “We still have that Matriarch to worry about!”

Evie’s grin didn’t fade. “Admit it, Sparky. You like me. We’re friends.”

Atar rolled his eyes, and in doing so saw the gaggle of mages that had gathered around him. A number of them were stifling smiles, but most just looked confusedly between the two of their commanding officers. Ugh. People are the worst. “Focus up. The field might have gone quiet, but the Weaver Matriarch is still in those trees.”

“I thought we killed her,” said a Half-Orc Atar couldn’t remember. Loogans, or something. He was dressed in the armor and distinctively marked cloak of the Claw, so Atar knew the boy had followed them to the desert at least. “I saw her take a full barrage to her chest.”

“She lived,” Evie said, suddenly among them. Several of the mages jumped and the girl grinned like a damn cat. “Saw her scuttle off myself.”

“But sir, you said we only had the Titan left,” one of the younger mages said.

“I lied,” Atar admitted. “But maybe we’ll be lucky and the Hand or Harn will take care of her.”

“SKREEE!”

The shriek tore through the long shadows at the edge of the forest, revealing the ten-stride high Weaver Matriarch, now covered in mud and muck but exuding an aura of fury. She lifted her forelegs up in a clear threat, and clacked mandibles large enough to snap a tree in two.

“Speak and summon her,” muttered one of the mages, but Atar ignored them.

“All hands! Fall in and end this!” A deep voice bellowed from down the line. It was Reed, and he hefted his door-sized sword to point it right at the Matriarch. “Fire ranged attacks on my signal!”

“Line up!” Atar ordered, a touch shrilly. “Line up now!”

His mages rushed to listen to him, while Evie still crouched atop the crenelations. Watching. “Seems strange. Thing is just standin’ there, all puffed up. Why’s it not movin’?”

“Fire!” Reed shouted, and they all unleashed their basic attack spells. Many fell short, the distance too far. “Again!”

“I do not know,” Atar admitted, keeping his spells to himself. He drank down another Mana Potion. Half as tall as the Titans, the Matriarch had proven impossible to target due to the trees, the fungal warriors, and the plethora of her children. Of course, all the spiders were dead, killed earlier that day, causing the Matriarch to flee behind the last of the Titans. Now even that meager protection was gone, and she was exposed within a web of silken threads.

Threads, he realized. A trap!

“Watch the threads! Do not get close!” Atar hollered above the roar of flames. Atar wasn’t the only one with fire-attuned cores, and they had not been shy about using it on the forest.

But the warriors were already advancing, and as the Matriarch pulled her massive legs downward, several trees began to fall. Threads flashed, connected to the trees, and the bulky trunks careened toward the rushing warriors. The soldier dodged them or leaped aside entirely, but the trees splashed down, fouling the ground further and cutting into their speed.

I need to do something, Atar thought furiously. “We need to—”

Quite suddenly, the Weaver Matriarch stuttered to a stop…before sloughing into two, roughly equal parts.

“What?” Atar said, mouth agape.

“Noctis’ tits,” Evie cursed. “Avet’s teeth and Yyero’s ass!”

“What?” Atar repeated, still confused. The Weaver Matriach’s body had immediately begun to dissolve, though it was shining far brighter than he’d ever seen. Almost…golden.

A sword lifted, one that was easily the match for Reed’s, but made entirely of golden light Mana.

Evie clenched her jaw and chain. “Inquisitors.”