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Chapter 66

Quiet picked up on the changing environment before it actually started. Every last one of his nerves stood on edge as the big ugly mountain's big shadow cast over the many stones. First he thought he felt this way because it was getting darker and he didn't like the dark. But then he realized there was some kind of weird magic in the air that was coming alongside the shadow.

Quiet got the distinct feeling that he should start running.

He heard the distant sounds of battle somewhere in the annoying dust cloud that did not want to settle down, despite him asking it multiple times already. He felt like he needed to warn the others about this strange magic… but Leendonn told him to stay hidden. Did his papa know about this magic? Maybe everyone did, and it was okay?

Quiet peaked out between two big rocks that had a hole between them. Strange, were the stone heaps growing taller? His senses were getting completely scrambled by the strange magic now, and it made Quiet all the more anxious. Maybe if he drew just a bit closer to the others, but still stay hidden…?

He began uncertainly sneaking out from his hiding place, passing by buildings that were definitely not there a second ago. The whole place started to look like a proper city, but there were no people at all. At least none that Quiet could sense through this hazy annoying magic. He had no idea where the others were, but he thought he could hear them fight some distance away, so he turned in that direction. The more and more buildings were making it harder to hear them, however.

After a few minutes of careful sneaking, he thought he saw a human standing not far from him. It seemed calm and didn't look like it had armor, so it definitely wasn't Johhana.

- Papa? – Quiet called out softly, too skerred to raise his voice.

Something yanked him up by his ankle from behind. Quiet shrieked as he turned around, his voice climbing a couple of octaves as he saw his assailant. A horrible ugly torn up human face stared at him blankly, with big teeth and no lips, holes in its grey skin. Inarius and Worrldston froze at the sight, but Quiet yanked out his black dagger and instinctively stabbed the ugly monster in the forehead. Bones rattled and the dead man collapsed into the dust, his skin and muscles folding unnaturally in on themselves.

Quiet fell to the ground with a short cry, but he was already on his feet running. His fear and disgust at these dead yet moving things were still in him (they shouldn't move, why were they moving?!), but he saw too much of them on this journey already to freeze up again. He knew he had to fight and make sure they weren't moving. The man in front of him was also a bad dead man but Quiet slashed his thigh while running by and he too collapsed. This dagger was very helpful, Quiet concluded. Now his biggest fear was that he was alone with many dead people around and he didn't know where Teeriel or Leendonn or Ashaaava or the others were, if they were okay, if—

A bad dead man came out from one of the reappeared buildings and swiped Quiet against the opposite wall. The little angel's shriek was cut short by the collision, he skidded to its base upside down, groaning. Instinctively he slapped the ground and called for its help. The strange magic in the air was still very much distracting, though, and the ground answered very strangely. It sprung a big pillar that missed the monster completely. Thankfully it still managed to break the wall above the dead man and the falling chunks crushed it. Quiet struggled to roll over his head and get back on his feet. In the meantime he tried his damnest to listen to the ground, and he thought he could sense many, many footsteps running across it.

- Why are there always so many bad dead men?! – he shrieked angrily, finally standing up.

It was so unfair! Why couldn't be there just one or two ugly bad men to fight?!

Was it that stoopid mean bald pale man's doing again? Linaarian really liked dead things, what if he wanted to hurt Quiet again?! The little angel skidded past another monster and killed it with a stab in its hip. He was getting very very very tired of the pale lizard-man! Oh if he finds Linaarian again, he will absolutely kick his—

That's when Quiet arrived to what looked like a smaller square. And it was chuck full of dead men, who all turned to him as one. With a sharp snap the little angel's anger turned into full-blown panic and he scrambled back with a choke. The monsters let out horrible trills and they walked towards him. Quiet wanted to turn around and run away, but he smacked into more dead people coming from the streets. One grabbed him before he could do anything, and flung him in the middle of the square. Quiet disappeared among the bad dead men with a scream of pure fear. They were a bit slow to react but they eventually turned to the child struggling on the ground.

- PAPAAA! – Quiet wailed, curling up into a helpless ball as the monsters reached for him.

Then bone arrows started raining from the sky. They pierced the dead men, killing many of them. Quiet chanced an upwards glance from his position in the dust. He thought he saw a big figure materializing in the sky above the crowd. It plummeted to the ground like a very heavy rock, but it was made out of disgusting ugly red flesh and many spikes. Upon landing, it raised one massive thorned hand and began whacking away at the monsters not too far from Quiet. Thankfully the dead men all turned to the new strange creature that reminded Quiet a bit of the Thorned Hulks back at Kurast, only much redder, louder and uglier.

A long-nailed dark hand grabbed his arm and hauled him upwards from his belly. Quiet shrieked and kicked, but he was quickly placed down back on his feet. That surprised him so much that he fell completely silent as he stared up at his savior.

-… What are you looking at?! Fight already! The flesh golem won't last forever – the mean stoopid pale man, Linaarian shouted at him as he turned back to the monsters, raising his ugly dagger at them. – I cannot believe I'm actually doing this…

"Wha-what?!" Inarius was completely baffled inside him.

"Is the fool helping us?" Worrldston wondered aloud too.

Quiet blinked at the pale man, not making a move.

- Kid, do something!

Oh right.

They were still very much surrounded. The ugly red thing called the "flesh golem" got pushed next to them as well, and now they were three against the crowd. Linaarian was shooting bone arrows and dim smokey scythes and stuff at the bad dead men who tried to grab their prey. After a second of hesitation, Quiet slammed his fists into the ground, pouring his fear and rage into it. The strange magic in the air still messed with his spell a bit, but couldn't do much. Around them the ground exploded and grew lots and lots of spears of metal, shredding and stabbing the monsters by the dozens. The lances moved and waved, trying to get even the dead men who survived the first wave.

-… Damn – Linaarian lowered his dagger just a bit at the sight.

- Why are you helping me? You wanted to kill me, evil mean man! – Quiet glared up at him as he bid the spears to retreat into the ground.

- Do we really have to diskass this right now, Ina—whoever you are?! "Shut up", was it? – Linaarian stared back just as angrily.

- I am Quiet, essholl!

- Whatever! Do you want to survive or not?!

- Yes, I do – the child sniffled angrily. – But you are still mean and stoopid! I will tell my papa how mean you were and he will kick your butt for it!

- Sure he will, you little fak… – Linaarian grumbled under his nose but he turned back to the enemy.

- What is "fak"? – Quiet couldn't help but ask.

- Nothing! – came the far too quick reply.

Maybe Linaarian called him a bad word? Quiet puffed up his cheeks in anger but refrained from screaming or kicking the man in the shins or opening a bottomless hole under his boots. Or all of that, in that order. He was helping right now, afterall.

There seemed to be no end to the bad dead men, they were already filling back up the square that Quiet's attack had cleared moments ago. The child was more or less covered by both Linaarian and the flesh golem, but he wouldn't stay safe for long, if he wasn't helping too. Linaarian was waving his ugly dagger around, its tip leaving glowing lines in the air. Every time he finished another "writing", it melted away and bone spikes or scythes or bad green waves of magic appeared that flew towards the dead people. The flesh golem on the other hand was simply whacking and punching stuff around it.

Pushing down the awkwardness Inarius was feeling, Quiet tried to come up with something. The dead men were gurgling and growling and hissing, it was getting very loud and very skerry, but he tried to ignore all of it. Stealing the idea of falling bone arrows, Quiet reached his arms at the sky, closed his eyes and concentrated. He ordered the flying dust and the very small things the air was made out of to come together and change. Above them the sky seemed to shimmer and ripple as weapons formed. Quiet tried to recall every kind of sword, dagger and spear he had seen before in the hands allies and foes alike, and recreate them as best as he could. The newly made arms hovered for a moment, before slamming into the ground angrily, stabbing, cutting and piercing the dead people. The sound of their falling travelled far.

But Quiet was not done. Keeping his focus he recalled how the Thorned Hulks had sent the forest to attack the bad city with plants. The weapons morphed again, taking up bark-like textures and sprouting thorned vines. These vines wove themselves across the square, raising a wall around the three of them that continued to expand, forcing the dead men back. The monsters were cutting through the vines but it slowed them down very much, allowing Linaarian to take better aim at them with his boney spells.

"Yes! We've got this!" Inarius regained his footing inside Quiet.

Quiet agreed. These bad men were many, but they couldn't do much now that he was here! Holding onto his growing confidence, he created two small red gem swords and jumped out from between Linaarian and the flesh golem. Linaarian shouted something after him, but Quiet didn't really care. He was going to make his papa proud! He was going to help everybody stay safe here!

His small swords cut through the bad men like they weren't even there, they all burst into dust at his slashes. Quiet darted around the vines, trying to stay close to the center where Linaarian was, but getting more and more lost in the crowd. He gained bravery from Inarius' many years of fighting and the frustration of Worrldston and he was no longer afraid.

He heard new voices from the distance. Izba came in running with Ashava from the dust cloud, trampling the monsters in their wake.

- Boss! Hold on! – Adenah shouted from door of Izba.

- I'm okay! – Quiet shouted back, slashing bad dead men.

- Anyone saw Dirge—Who the hell are you, pal?! – the old peasant man Zei was running by their side, whacking away thorned plants and zombies with his bare hands, and just now noticing Linaarian.

- I'm on your side, alright?! – Linaarian barked angrily. – Silence, get back here this instant!

- My name is Quiet, essholl! – the little angel screeched back.

Linaarian was so stupid!

- I don't care, you little bastard!

- Hey, don't talk bad about Boss, you jerk! – Adenah hopped off from Izba as they arrived and they joined the fray.

The bad men were being kept back very well now that the most of the group was back together.

- We have lost sight of the others and Dirgest as the city rebuilt itself – Ashava swiped with her scythe arm. – Has any of you seen Teeriel or Leendonn?!

- I will find them! – Quiet promised loudly, already trying to carve a way through the dead people away from the square.

- No, Boss, wait! – Adenah shouted after him.

- Brat, do you wish to die?!

- No, I know what to do! – Quiet argued with them.

It was getting difficult to hear them over the hissing and growling of the bad men.

- Little one, come back! We must stay together – Ashava insisted as well.

- Alright, alright – Quiet grumbled under his nose before speaking up. – I'm coming, I'm coming!

They could kill these bad men faster together, true. Quiet stomped the ground, starting a large wave that swept the monsters and the remnants of the vines away so he could rush back freely. He skipped towards the group, dragging his little swords behind him. They looked relieved that he was coming back.

Then those faces turned horrified.

- Allfather! – Zei shouted and he suddenly stood behind Quiet.

Time slowed down as the little angel turned back. A giant glowing hammer came crashing down onto Zei, breaking most of his body into light smithereens. The man collapsed onto Quiet with great force, nailing him against the ground. The hammer crushed his entire left arm a fraction of a second later.

Quiet screamed.

A strong metallic hand grabbed the little angel by the throat and dragged him out of under Zei. Quiet kicked, he summoned his powers to crash this foe and—

Another gloved and impossibly cold hand grabbed parts of his left wing and pulled. Quiet's voice climbed higher, it broke something inside him, it hurt so much, his wing was tearing from his back it hurt it hurt IT HURT

A few strands separated from him with a burning snap and the pain crushed his mind into darkness. One final sentence came with him to haunt him:

- EVERYBODY FREEZE OR I'LL TEAR HIM TO SHREDS!

oooOOOooo

As it turned out, teleporting inside a self-reconstructing city was not the best of ideas. Lyndon arrived in a spot that in the next second was being walled off by an unseen force. The scoundrel barely had the time to throw himself through the rapidly shrinking crack that led to a street.

- Right. Changing place. No teleportation – he exhaled loudly, as he resigned himself to his fate of finding the others on foot.

Throughout his journey, following Quiet's magical trail he still had a connection to thankfully, Lyndon has been busy honing his skills as much as he could. His grip on teleportation grew far more stable than before, even if it wasn't always perfect. But he had learnt the most important part of teleportation: not actually thinking about teleportation. Just like when he wanted to kick someone in the ass, he focused on the target and the intent, rather than how he should be using his muscles to raise and angle his foot. Teleportation was very much the same: Lyndon had to focus on the end goal of his action, instead of the blink itself. Like when he executed that (rather beautiful, thank you very much) double-stomp right in Johanna's face. That had been perfection itself, short-lived as it was.

Lyndon climbed atop of some buildings to avoid the slowly appearing zombies. He knew very little about this place, but he knew enough to realize their situation and try to formulate some kind of plan accordingly. Quiet was probably farthest from everyone else, hiding deep inside the city. Lyndon had to choose between ignoring everyone, finding his firefly and then somehow gather the group in this chaos – or gather the others, or at least most of them, and fight their way through this death trap together. Lyndon hated the thought already, but the latter sounded more effective even to him. He had to keep believing in Quiet a bit longer, just as he had done so in these past weeks.

They could make it. They had to make it.

Then Lyndon felt it: Quiet's magic, powerful and obvious as a smaller volcanic eruption, has emerged briefly inside the city. It didn't last long, but had been far too clear to be missed. The child was fighting the horde of zombies, no doubt! Original plan flung out the window immediately, Lyndon began running and jumping across the top of the buildings, towards the signal. If Quiet had to use this much magic to defend himself, he was in major trouble! The scoundrel couldn't hes—

He saw the roof under him explode and chunks of rock stab him through. Instead, Lyndon teleported out of the way, onto the street before himself.

- Oh, let me guess! Short-term foresight, right? Of course rats like you would have that ability!

Lyndon decided he wouldn't waste words, so he only spat in the direction of Johanna.

- No wonder you'd never gotten killed during our adventure together – the Crusader smirked cruelly down the street, flinging her incomplete flail around.

She had cleared the area already of zombies with her devastating attacks, it seemed.

- I am a resourceful bastard, you should know that – Lyndon let go of a brief smirk.

- Indeed – Johanna's features darkened.

She whipped her flail forward, letting loose a tongue of flame. Lyndon rolled to the side. He had no opportunity to reach for his crossbow, he had to get close to the Nephalem. Despite being of the same… race? Species? … Lyndon knew he could not compete with Johanna in raw power. But he could rely on his speed well. If he could just get rid of that godforsaken flail!

The scoundrel lunged forward, swooping low and close to the ground, muscles ready to dodge. Johanna slashed downwards then immediately dragged the chains away before Lyndon could break one. She had an idea too of what he was planning.

- Concurs!

Lyndon had to blink behind the ghost horse exploding into the scene, but it gave him an opening. Johanna couldn't follow his change of position, especially not with the steed brushing past her on the rather narrow street. The scoundrel jumped, his green-lit dagger held in front of him like the tip of a spear. The Crusader could barely yank her flail wildly to the side to intercept it. The empowered blade cut through one of the chains, but it hit the handle at an angle, bouncing off of it in an awkward way. Johanna sent Lyndon flying with a swift but small burst of light aura. The cut off flail whip disappeared among the buildings. The woman sneered at her opponent who twisted around mid-air and landed on his feet like a cat. She needed more coverage against a slippery bastard like this.

With a yell, Johanna spun her maimed flail towards the sky. Flaming rocks materialized far above, quickly reaching terminal speed in their fall. Lyndon turned his green blazing eyes at the incoming attack. Johanna tried to use it to her advantage – she sent out one glowing ghost hammer at his head. But the scoundrel saw the future trajectories of all of them. Instead of getting any closer to the Crusader, Lyndon instead blinked dozens of meters away, dodging the bombardment in its entirety. He landed, slashed the back of the neck of a zombie that was just emerging from under some rubble, and finally he whipped out his crossbow. The flaming rocks impacted on his original location, sending out shockwaves, dust, stone chunks and sparks. Lyndon was safely far away, he aimed through the cloud where he last saw Johanna standing, and let loose a bolt of light. During his travels, he had realized what the gem Zei had given to him did: it somehow filled the projectiles with power as they flew, making them more devastating towards more distant enemies.

The next second he heard a sharp metallic crack, and Johanna's screech of rage. Lyndon grinned like a fool:

- You've lost your edge, woman! – he shouted triumphantly as he ran towards the cloud.

The hammer of light flying at his face changed his mind really quickly, though. Lyndon evaded it with his foresight, vaulting over the wall of rubble the bombardment had left.

- On the contrary – Johanna growled, surrounded by five ghostly hammers that orbited her like guard dogs.

She flung the now useless wooden handle away. Lyndon briefly contemplated using Slipka's letter opener. It had a few charges inside, and what better target there was than the Nephalem herself? If he could just bait those hammers out, so they wouldn't be potential obstacles… It didn't look like Johanna wanted to separate from them, however. She kept them close to her body, eyes trained on Lyndon alone. The scoundrel really started to hate those icy blues, if he was honest with himself.

That gave him an idea. A damn risky one that would have made Tyrael proud, honestly.

Lyndon loaded his crossbow again, far faster than any other mortal-made weapon. At this range, Zei's magical gem wouldn't be much help, but he didn't need that now. He began running around the Nephalem, firing arrows at her, trying to either slip past her guard, or get her to hurl her hammers. He had seen damn clearly that Johanna no longer had her cool-headed focus in fights. The woman did strike at him at times but she always called the hammer back to her side.

Lyndon needed to be more infuriating. Quickly slinging his crossbow onto his back, instead he reached for an old gift of Luther's – that very special cane. He jumped towards Johanna, as if trying to whack her with it, but the distance was still too great. However, as he swung it, the shaft of the cane came apart into saw-toothed segments. Suddenly he was holding a bit shorter but devastating whip. It slipped across two hammers and racked the surprised Johanna on her side. The woman let out a horrible shriek and immediately sent out one of her hammers. Lyndon barely had the time to blink out of the way, but blink he did, and so he returned to his cat-and-mouse game with the whip-cane. He grinned like a fool, winking mischievously at the Nephalem, as if he had a death wish. This time around, Johanna was clearly losing her cool. Even though she could deflect most of the insidious strikes from that blasted weapon, it still sometimes scratched or nipped at her even through her armor. Not to mention the annoying scratching sound it made against her hammers…

She sent out another to hopefully hit Lyndon, but once again the man jumped and twisted out of the way.

- Like I've said – Lyndon smiled sweetly at her once again.

He was courting death, he knew that well. But he had done it plenty of times before, he was no stranger to it.

Another hammer, another dodge. Now was his chance! Lyndon's hand flew at one of his many pockets and he yanked out a small loose satchel. He flung it before Johanna could properly recover, and an entire bag of blinding powder met her face. The woman screamed in a very inhuman way and clawed at her eyes as agony stabbed into them. Her two remaining hammers flew wildly around her, mimicking the blind floundering of their owner. Lyndon let go of a smirk. He didn't even need Slipka's letter opener here! He flung forward with the cane, aiming at the Nephalem's throat.

One of the hammers flew at him at an impossible angle, too fast for him to react more than yanking his hand out of the way in time. It hit his cane, shattering its segments and yanking it out of his hand. The scoundrel bit down on a curse but he kept up his assault from a slightly different direction, after he jumped to the side of the strike. He had plenty of daggers on him, anyway! And if those stabs weren't enough, he could always reach for the letter opener to finish the job once and for all.

Damn, why was he so afraid of Johanna up to this point? This bitch was nothing!

Lyndon saw she would strike from the right side in her blind flailing in the next second. He started his dodge, crouching down to duck under the incoming blow. In the meantime, he reached for one of his daggers on his belt. His fingers found only the empty sheath, however. His brain and body froze with surprise for a precious second. The predicted hammer of holy magic came crashing into his right shoulder, missing his head, but sending him flying and spinning across the air uncontrollably. The collision, the pain and the flying completely jumbled his thoughts, Lyndon lost hold of his premonition, as well as his cocky self-certainty just moments before.

He spun among the ruins, crashing against a reforming wall. He let out a pitiful croak as he collapsed by its base. His nephalem nature saved him from the worst, but he still was far from being a proper tank like Johanna. His vision swam as he struggled to get up.

- Lyndon, you are far more trouble than you will ever be worth! – he heard Johanna rage, still rubbing her eyes furiously. – I rue the day I ever picked you up from that dirt road, you worthless worm!

- What can I say… I tend to defy people's expectations of me – the scoundrel spat in her direction despite barely seeing anything.

The next hammer flew into his belly. His stomach really should have exited through his back, but it somehow hung on. Not so much Lyndon himself, who crashed through the wall and into the house. He was quickly followed by yet more flaming rocks plummeting from the sky. They crashed into the building and around it, raining down fire and stone atop the scoundrel. Mind almost empty from the blazing pain and hopeless sense of failure, Lyndon futilely curled into a ball against the incoming debris.

I'm sorry, Quiet, the thought flashed through him.

He had failed in his promise, just as he has always d—

The ground glowed in golden light and swallowed him before he could finish that thought.

oooOOOooo

They were flying. Actually flying.

Tyrael has decided to avoid the legitimate questions of "why?" and "how the hells even?!" and just roll with it.

Mostly because he had to make sure he wouldn't drop the struggling Kormac. And that currently took up the entirety of his focus.

- Would you just stop struggling?! – he adjusted his hold on the armored leg of his former friend.

- Let me go, you traitor! – the ex-Templar heroically fought with closed eyes, uselessly swatting with his arms.

- Really? Really, Kormac?! You want me to let you go, really?!

The warrior finally opened his eyes and beheld the self-rebuilding city a good distance above… no, below his head. They weren't high like the clouds, but it was a big enough height to be fatal.

- Oh… oh shit, no no no, don't let me go! Akarat help me, don't you fucking let go!

- I'm glad to hear you see reason, friend – Tyrael let out a defeated sigh.

When they realized what was going on, that Ureh was indeed coming back, Tyrael has sort of… lost it, to be frank. Of all the bad luck, danger, insanity and hardships that had dogged them throughout this miserable journey, Ureh just happened to be coming back on this Anu-forsaken night had been the last straw for the mortal angel. He and Kormac were quickly being overwhelmed by the undead appearing all around them. Even putting aside their interrupted duel to become uneasy allies did not buy them much time. So in a moment of absolute exasperation, Tyrael dismissed El'druin, grabbed a hold of Kormac and fled to the only direction still open to them – up. He wasn't thinking, he wasn't measuring his choices, he just did it.

And here they were now, above the city.

- Wha-ho-how are you flying? – Kormac squinted up at him in confusion, his spear left behind in the commotion.

- Don't ask!

- But—

- I have no goddamn idea, alright?!

Tyrael could have sworn he sometimes saw glimpses of a familiar (and sorely missed) bright blue light from the corner of his eyes, but he did not dare to turn his head. Flying did not feel natural. He felt like he needed every last strand of his nerves to keep them up and sailing. It was a terrible strain on him and he couldn't tell how much longer he could keep it up. Already it felt like his back was being pulled in two directions, his muscles protested against it. He tried to spot some kind of more open space, zombie-infested or not, where he could make a landing preferably without cracking both their heads on the stones.

That is until he saw the group gathering in the distance. Izba's and Ashava's unmistakable silhouettes rose from the all-consuming dust-cloud and it appeared they were not alone. With some difficulty, Tyrael steered themselves towards the two, wobbling terribly.

- Aren't you supposed to be good at flying? – Kormac heaved below, sounding like he was about to throw up.

- Kormac, I swear to Anu I'll—

And that is when Tyrael saw them. Johanna stood some 15 meters away from the group who huddled in the middle of a ruined, twisted, heaved up square. She flung a broken body (Zei?) back to them with disregard. Linarian (how the hell was he even there?!) hurled a ghost scythe at her with a defiant shout, but the Crusader washed the attack away with her mysterious empty power. She was holding a small object, no, it was…

- Quiet! – Tyrael gasped.

The little angel hung limply from the left hand of Johanna, one of his arms crushed and twisted. His left wing was… it was mutilated. Barely hanging on by a few threads, its largest upper tendrils gone completely. Johanna was busy crushing said missing tendrils into glass-like smithereens between her right gauntlet.

Strain and effort forgotten, Tyrael took a sharp turn and aimed downwards. His grip was strong on the screaming Kormac as he called El'druin to his side with his right hand. Johanna turned to them with utter disinterest, and Tyrael had no time to stop or even slow down as he realized she was mouthing "Concurs". From their right, that accursed ghost steed came charging and jumping. It crashed straight into Tyrael, and the mortal angel heard multiple audible cracks in his body.

They flew to the side like an arrow, most sensations leaving him for a second, as well as his breath. He collided with something firm but still kind of soft and they all fell flat on the ground. A terrifying second of nothing later the world came back with a sharp snap, just as Linarian and Adenah leaned above them to help them up. The mortal angel realized by some insane luck they have crashed into a flesh golem created by the nephalem. That's how they were still alive.

- We've got you guys! – Adenah shouted, trying to haul Tyrael up.

Instead of answering, the mortal angel let out a painful gasp. His entire right side burnt with intense pain, and he was certain some of his ribs were cracked, if not worse. Breathing was painful too.

- Sorry, sorry! – the dog demoness immediately shifted her hold of him, carefully pulling him off the disintegrating flesh golem.

- On your feet, soldier! – next to them, Linarian very unceremoniously hauled Kormac up from the ground.

The ex-Templar survived the crash with minor injuries, and he was just now realizing he was in the middle of the so-called "enemy group"… and nobody was attacking him. The zombies were closing in on them once again, slowly shambling back inside the square.

- Hold them back, brat – Johanna gestured with her head at Linarian, nothing but smugness radiating from her.

- Do it yourself, wench! – the nephalem hissed back, still holding Kormac up by his arm.

Johanna just shrugged at this. A ring of something dark surrounded her on the ground, strange smoke rose around her, radiating the same cold emptiness Tyrael had learnt to hate in such a short time. The zombies behind her shuffled towards her… then they parted and walked past her as if she was a lifeless obstacle.

Linarian's black pearl eyes grew wide at this.

- Can you stand? – he choked.

- Y-yes – Kormac uncertainly glanced at him.

The nephalem immediately let go of the ex-Templar and began scribbling in the air with his dagger like a madman. Two magic rune circles clad in sickly greenish grey light appeared and Linarian sunk his claws into them and pushing them to either side. The undead did stop on their tracks, but they were clearly not fully under control. They shuffled in place and grumbled, looking almost displeased with the necromancy.

- Fuck, they are not normal undead… – Linarian muttered in a strained voice to himself, his grip tightening on the rune circles that were spouting sparks already.

- Return Boss to us, you heartless bitch! – Adenah roared at Johanna as she propped up Tyrael and the broken Zei by a larger rock.

- You were always a piece of trash, Adenah. Keep mouthing off and your Boss might lose another limb – Johanna sneered at her, cutting Izba's threatening howl short.

- There is no depth you wouldn't sink to, would you – Ashava growled lowly, every muscle of hers tensed and ready to pounce.

- You know me – Johanna grinned at her.

- Zei? – Tyrael whispered, struggling to turn his head to his left.

- Still here. Somehow – came the weak answer.

Zei was literally broken to pieces. A giant web of cracks ran across his entire chest and torso, with shards hanging and falling from his form with every passing second as if he was made of clay. His left shoulder was barely holding on by a few threads. Ethereal light shimmered from the depths of his body – there was no blood, but it was clear the god was barely hanging on.

- Kormac, come here! – Johanna glared at the ex-Templar in their ranks.

- I—

Tyrael could not believe it but Kormac was actually hesitating. Was Johanna's hold over him failing? Could he see more clearly now? Tyrael glanced at Johanna. Her "empty magic" seemed to negate every other kind of magic thrown at her – could it now also be interfering with whatever illusion she has cast over her comrades?

- Kormac! – Johanna glared.

-… Why are you holding a small angel? Where's Mephisto? – came the confused retort.

Johanna's eye twitched at this, but then she clearly decided it was not worth the effort anymore. Not since she had her prize finally.

- You people just loooove to lead me on a wild goose chase, don't you?! – she turned her attention back to the group, holding the unconscious Quiet higher. – A good effort, all things considered. But like I've said: there is only one way the story ends when I get involved!

Tyrael felt his stomach churn. Johanna has hurt a child and was displaying him like a trophy, and to top it all off, she has mutilated his wing too. That hit far too close to home for the mortal angel. His grip grew tighter on El'druin, but he couldn't even raise it properly.

- You are a monster, Johanna! – he growled instead in helpless anger.

- Oh you have no idea, Tyrael! – the blood-freezing grin he got in return did not help matters.

- That is not Johanna – Ashava said lowly.

- What? – Tyrael turned his head to her, hissing at the pain that raced through his body.

- Wai—no… no-no-no – Linarian somehow managed to lose a couple of tones from his already pale face as he returned his attention to Johanna at the demoness' comment.

Tyrael called upon his own illusion-breaking vision, but saw nothing out of the ordinary. He did not know what Ashava eluded to, but the implications alone did not fill him with much hope. With some growling, the Ureh undead tried to shuffle closer to the trapped group, as Linarian's focus faltered. The nephalem squeezed the rune circles and held them in place for now, with great difficulty.

With a snap in the air, a form appeared besides Johanna.

- Where the hell have you been? – the Crusader grumbled, not looking at the newcomer.

- Had to take care of that annoying shrieking treasure demon – Dirgest spat in anger, adjusting his massive belt satchels. – I managed to shot him through with a gem as he escaped, though.

Shen's body really did look worse for the wear. His left hand was missing three fingers, his arms were covered in cuts. His chest had been run through by some kind of spear probably. None of the injuries bled, but they emitted black smoke. Looking at the rogue god of desire, Tyrael couldn't help but truly worry for Luther, despite never interacting with the little demon before.

- No matter – Johanna waved her partner away. – You lot should have known better! I have Myriam's foresight, there is no escape from her senses. You could have run to the very edge of the world, and I still would have found the little traitor.

Quiet twitched, his closed eyes squinted, but no other life sign came from him.

- What do you want with him, anyway?! – Adenah howled at her, grabbing her spear.

- What else? – Johanna smirked. – Putting an end of this thousand-cursed long-running sentence finally. And as an added bonus, make my beloved pay for his betrayal! This little shit here is such a convenient package, I could not ask for more!

"Beloved"

Tyrael could feel his mouth dry out as the possible explanation dawned on his ragged mind finally. Linarian's sudden panic made sense to him now.

Quiet twitched again. It almost looked like he wanted to raise his still functioning arm for something, but the Crusader paid no attention to him.

- Dirgest – Johanna glanced at the god.

- Give me a second. I need to charge with all these injuries.

Tyrael tried to raise El'druin again. Ashava let out a deep growl from her throat, but did not dare to move. Izba hissed, trying not to put too much weight onto her injured leg.

- What, you are just going to run away, you bitch?! – Adenah screeched.

Johanna merely glanced at her as if to say "duh", clearly not rising for the bait. The undead drew closer yet again, Linarian bit down on a curse as he damn near lost control of the spell. He stared at the Crusader with pure despair, his black eyes surprisingly expressive finally.

While Dirgest was channeling his teleportation magic, Johanna's face grew blank with surprise.

- What happened to the foresight? – she whispered barely audibly.

Then… a lot of things happened all at once.

Dirgest raised his arms:

- To a journey—

Behind the pair, a new duo of vengeful forms emerged from the dust. Lyndon, covered in bruises and cuts, and a big light red smudge on his shirt, pulled out a letter opener, his eyes shining green with murderous rage. The treasure goblin Luther, with a bloody stab wound in the side of his hip, brandished a massive shining mace of gold and silver.

-… we g—

Luther delivered the single most powerful blow to the back of Dirgest's head. Black smoke bellowed from the cracked open skull and the old man fell forward unceremoniously. The treasure goblin fell on top of him, reaching his arm out towards the group with a commanding shout.

A black blade sunk into Johanna's left armpit. Quiet somehow came to his senses and he yanked out his dagger from the hidden sheath, delivering the blow. The aura around her faltered as she screamed in pain. Lyndon flashed the letter opener and he suddenly disappeared. Green lines danced around Johanna before the Crusader could even react in any way. Her right arm was severed from her body in an unseen strike, most of her armor shredded. Her voice was cut short, when Quiet's blade sunk into her forehead next. Lyndon reappeared right next to the woman.

Time picked back up again.

Johanna, now a bloodied, shredded mess, stood still for a second with empty eyes, before finally collapsing into the dust. Lyndon could barely catch Quiet mid-air before the little angel could follow. The scoundrel cuddled him close with a horrified expression, already fleeing towards the group from the corpse. Adenah tossed her marble urn to Luther who quickly tore off the lid and shoved it in Dirgest's face. The magic activated and it began sucking out the black smoke from Shen's injured body. Dirgest screeched and fought, but thankfully he was too injured and too surprised to properly put up a fight.

- Get the body to Zei, child, quick! – Ashava shouted at the frozen Kormac.

Moving automatically, the ex-Templar ran there with Adenah. He grabbed the empty body of Shen while Adenah lifted the injured Luther up from the ground.

- I'm Adenah, and this is Luther, by the way – the demoness smiled awkwardly at the warrior, who could only nod in his bewilderment.

Kormac placed the body right next to Zei Behind them the urn was already bouncing and cracking as the god inside raged against his new bonds. With visible effort and some help from Kormac, Zei placed his right hand on top of Shen's body. The two flashed up and slowly began melting together, losing their physical features briefly.

- I've got you, I've got you – Lyndon stammered, terrified as he reached the group with Quiet.

Then he actually looked up and finally saw the struggling Linarian.

-… Who the fuck are you?! – the scoundrel blurted out, causing Tyrael to hide his face in his palm in the background.

- Isn't that enough that I am helping you, you thick bastard?! – the nephalem bit back. – My magic is failing, we need to get away from here!

- No, we need to take care of the injured first! – Adenah argued as she placed Luther to the ground carefully, looking over his wound.

- Fffrieeends – Luther tried weakly but was shushed by the demoness.

- We will have a whole lot more than injuries if these rune circles get busted! – Linarian shouted back, trying to gesture with his trapped hands towards the entire horde of zombies all around them.

- We might need to hold the line, whoever the hell you are – Lyndon cuddled Quiet closer, shooting a worried glance at the pool of light Zei and Shen dissolved into. – He needs more time.

- That was your brilliant plan?!

- I don't even know where the fuck you came from! I don't see you coming up with anything better!

- Can anybody tell me what is going on?! – Kormac somehow managed to get a word in, looking like he was on the verge of a complete mental breakdown.

- I was trying to tell you – Tyrael said tiredly.

- Friends… – Ashava spoke up above them but nobody paid attention.

It was clear the group was breaking up in the chaos, despite their apparent victory. Lyndon eyed Kormac with great suspicion but quickly returned his attention to the fainted Quiet.

- What has she done to you? – he breathed, looking over the mutilated wing and the crushed arm.

- She might have used those… void-like powers to injure his wing so readily – Tyrael offered, trying to sit up more. – Angelic wings aren't this easy to hurt normally.

- Can he be healed?!

- Look! – Ashava spoke up louder.

- Look at what, you hellsp—Oh FUCK! – Linarian committed the mistake of listening to the demoness first.

The rune circles slipped from his grip and spun around, spewing sparks everywhere. The undead started to shake off their effect. Johanna was moving. Convulsing, more specifically. Her corpse writhed and struggled on the ground like a dying worm, the skin under her ruined armor waving and expanding in unnatural ways.

Something was definitely trying to break out of her.

- Zei! ZEI! – Lyndon shouted, unable to tear his gaze away.

He lunged forward and dragged Kormac, Adenah and Luther further back into their midst.

- No-no-nonono-no! – Linarian tried hopelessly to regain control over his magic, but his powers sputtered out from his uncharacteristic terror.

His rune circles zipped across the air, fading into nothing as their last vestiges were shredded. The undead began their menacing march towards the group. Ashava bellowed acid and struck with her scythes, killing many monsters on her side. Cursing in a language nobody understood, Linarian somehow forced some Teeth and Spears of Trag'Oul into existence. Tyrael tried to get up but failed. The next second, the limp Quiet was shoved into his arms. Locking eyes with the scoundrel, the mortal angel saw fear and exhaustion in those green-lit eyes.

- Keep him safe a bit more. Please – Lyndon gulped.

Tyrael nodded, tenderly holding the small form.

Lyndon pursed his lips. Then he flashed his letter opener and disappeared into thin air. Behind him, entire rows of zombies were cut to ribbons in seconds by an unseen force. Lyndon reappeared, stumbling terribly for a second. Zei was taking up a more and more defined shape, but it was too slow. Johanna's lifeless body was damn near bouncing around at that point. With a stomach-churning snapping tear, her back finally opened. Blood and alien meat erupted from it, a form much larger than the Crusader was practically dragging itself out of her. It seemed raw and malleable at first, but as it freed more and more of itself, it solidified. Marble white skin mixed with dark reptilian scales. Giant bat wings erupted from the half-formed back, quickly growing their long fingers and leatherly flaps. It was almost half-way out.

Adenah grabbed Lyndon and dragged him out of harm's way. Kormac threw larger rocks at the zombies with all his might, crushing their skulls. Izba was stomping and kicking around. Ashava was wildly failing. Through clenched teeth, Linarian regained control over his magic, not daring to look at the emerging thing. Suddenly rays of blinding light, lightning and fire rained down from the sky on the undead.

- We found you!

With the void magic gone, some of the gods of Sanctuary has entered the fray in whatever limited way they could. Still, it looked like their aid came too late.

With a sickening crunch, the thing's head broke free from the back of Johanna's neck. It was a humanoid skull, but an absolutely massive crown of horns quickly grew out of it to form an unholy halo. With visible effort, the newly formed she tore out her arms and legs from the remnants of the corpse, shaking off sinew and veins that held them captive.

- ZEI, FOR FUCK'S SAKE! – Adenah screeched in sheer panic.

- You are not going anywhere… – the horrible, still half-raw woman stumbled towards them.

Her eyes barely formed, one white and one icy blue, were trained on Quiet and Quiet alone. Pain stabbed into his side but Tyrael yanked El'druin up, and placed his Smite onto the ground before the advancing foe. The thing just waved and her void-powers washed the rune away.

- DON'T COME ANY CLOSER! – Linarian actually screamed damn near hysterically.

He threw everything at her – the scythes, the bones, the spears, but nothing made contact. Lyndon looked like he tried to use the letter opener yet again, but he only stumbled forward uselessly, blindly grabbing after his crossbow on his back.

- Give—me—the Worldstone – the thing forced the words out of herself, reaching out with one terrible, metal covered claw towards Tyrael and Quiet.

The mortal angel swallowed his pain and got ready to swing with El'druin at the arm. But then a giant shadow swooped over all of their heads. Ashava threw herself at the winged woman, crashing through her empty aura with a mighty bite. Her jaws snapped around the torso of the thing that let out a spine-crawling scream. She grabbed the demoness' jaws and pried them open, but by then Ashava had managed to push her back from the group. The thing tore out a larger fang from her mouth, but that was less than nothing against the Pestilent Herself. Ashava stood on her hind legs, and slammed down on top of her opponent, crushing her into the ground. The giant leather wings opened and tried to stab the demoness in multiple places, but their claws could not find openings in the thick bone armor. Ashava repeated her slam. Around them, the ground was unnaturally slumping in.

Tyrael needed a far too precious moment to realize what was happening.

"Sleeping for eons in the earth helped me be more attuned with that realm. I've managed to use the power and magic residing within it to keep my hold on him."

- Ashava, no! – he shouted, his voice cut short by the blood that came up.

- I will buy you time! – the demoness shot back in between slams. – For as long as I can! You all must escape! Keep the child safe!

The undead were gaining on them, despite the gods' intervention. The crater was getting deeper around the duelers, Ashava was sinking into the ground. The thing was fighting back with growing rage, her wings now strong enough to tear off armor pieces of the demoness.

- Ashava! – Lyndon yelled, uselessly firing a light arrow from his crossbow into the growing pit.

- Save Sanctuary—It is solely up to us! – Ashava finished with a painful heave.

She slammed down one last time, wrapping herself around the raging monster. The ground below them kept sinking, but above it surged and moved and closed as if it was a giant eye.

- ZEI! GET ASHAVA OUT! GET HER OUT OF THERE! – Lyndon roared at the reforming god.

- C-can't! Not without bringing that bitch as well! I'm sorry! – Zei finally found his voice, thrusting his now skin-covered arms up in the air while lying on his back.

His newly formed fingers glowed with raw power.

- DO NOT BRING HER ALONG! – Linarian screeched over his shoulder, keeping the zombies back still.

- Gods fucking da—Myriam-Then take Myriam! She is at the edge of the city somewhere! – Lyndon almost pulled his hair out in despair.

- Found her! Hang on, everybody! – Zei closed his new eyes and grabbed at the air.

The world lurched around them violently, Tyrael felt like he left his broken ribs behind. Ureh and its zombies disappeared in a maddening swirl.

For a second, there was nothing.

Then a lush garden came into existence with a blinding snap around them, and the group collapsed among bushes and trees under the night sky. For a moment, everyone stayed still, stunned. Then time lurched forward and they all snapped. Adenah was a crying mess, curling into herself and rocking back and forth. Luther struggled onto his belly, trying to somehow comfort the demoness along with Izba who could barely stand on her cut- and bruise-covered chicken legs. Linarian collapsed onto his hands and knees, lowering his forehead to the ground and muttering incoherently. Tyrael, although seeing stars from the pain, kept his firm hold on the unmoving Quiet. He lied on his back, his mind struggling to catch up.

- No-no, no, no, no, Myriam! – he heard Lyndon's voice from somewhere.

With a titanic effort, the mortal angel lifted his head from the ground and looked over. Lyndon was crouching over the form of Myriam. Tyrael needed a few moments to finally see it: there was the hilt of a dagger sticking out of her chest, the blood drying around the wound for a while now. Her eyes were open but unseeing, she stared up at the sky as if she was already planning her journey across the stars, in search of a new family.

Tyrael let his head fall back. He wished he could find the words, offer something, anything to the group… but he was in the same abyss as them. He could not see the light either.

- Oh Hells! It's okay guys, I'm here to help!

Whoever this new voice belonged to, Tyrael no longer had energy for him. His eyes rolled back and he sunk into darkness.


Boy. Boy oh boy.

This chapter. This… motherfucking chapter, cupcakes.

I had thought that Ch36, against Maluus, was hard to write. I had thought Ch50, the Eastgate Keep disaster, was hard to write. I had thought that Ch56, the fight on the ship, was the hardest one I have ever done.

Oh dear, how naïve I had been.

Part of this, dear god, 5-month long hiatus was a bit of a break from writing in general. But the vast majority was a struggle against a Writer's Block that absolutely did not want to let go. It was insanely difficult to break its hold, but here we are now. Originally, Ch65 and 66 would have been the same, but not only it would have been insanely long, but this second part fight was holding back the first half that was already standing pretty well on its own. So I managed to put out an update in May by splitting this bad boy up. But now we got to the real meat.

Putting this chapter together took all I had. Breaking through Writer's Block, ensuring continuity in multiple places, having the choreography make some semblance of sense at least, setups and resolutions, placing hints and details…! It was just an incredible load of work.

I cannot put it into words how grateful I am for your patience, cupcakes. I am truly sorry for this long struggle, and I wish I could say there won't be any more in the future – life happens, and when the inevitable end of Act III rolls around, I will once again need a longer hiatus to plan everything for Act IV which will hopefully be the final act. It may not look like it, but there is a lot of work that goes behind the scenes into this story.

I also apologize if you feel the quality is not up to standard in this chapter. I honestly cannot tell, I am just so happy to have conquered this mountain. But if you have valid criticism, I of course happily accept that as well.

Thank you for reading, thank you for your patience! See you here in August… Anu willing. :) Act III is not yet over, but the storm is behind us now.

Lore & Trivia corner

- Bombardment: one of the strongest skills of the Crusader, they literally summon actual meteors to mess up the battlefield around them.

- The whip-cane: making a reappearance since Ch16 of all places, the whip-cane had been a brief callout for a weapon in Bloodborne. I will be the first to admit I have forgotten about its existence right up until this point, but thankfully it finally had a role here, and a way to go out with a bang, so to speak.