The heavens exploded with drums of war, the soldiers below dancing to the damning tune. 

The streets of Riven piled with bodies of the damned as the war raged on, growing fiercer by the second. The Kertan soldiers, vitalized by the promise of victory, fought like men possessed, ripping through enemies they'd found terrifying. 

In return, the drakul roared defiance as they morphed to hulks. Their blows mashed metal and bone, reducing the Kertans to naught but bloody mush. 

Into this maelstrom of madness and blood walked a hooded mage clad in red armor. In his left hand he held a red staff crafted from ancient wood. His name was Absalon, and like the man he was named after, he was a creature of war.

Three drakul charged the newcomer, weapons at the ready.

"Worms," said Absalon as he raised his right hand.

The drakul fell to the ground as a magic symbol formed beneath them. Two others attacked from his left, but their strikes landed on a magic circle. 

Absalon looked out the corner of his eyes at the dumbfounded drakul. "《Repel》"

An explosive force blasted them through the walls of a nearby building. 

Absalon returned his attention to the drakul trapped on the ground. They watched helpless as debris levitated off the earth, hovered over, then fell, burying them. Through the smoke zipped spears of ice, but he watched unfettered as they shattered few feet from him. 

In retaliation, he tapped the earth with his staff. 

Weapons dropped by the fallen hovered around him, as a host of drakul burst through the smoke. 

He side-stepped the first attack, tapping the drakul with his staff. He half-assedly parried the blow of the second, causing it to stagger forward under the lack of resistance. He spun around and hit its back, then struck the third in the stomach with the butt of his staff before it could bring down its sword. As it doubled over, he righted it by smashing its chin upwards. He rubbed a circle on its exposed mid-riff as cries from behind alerted him to the two he had sidestepped.

"《Implode》" Absalon chanted. The drakul froze in place as magic circles appeared on their bodies where he had tapped them. The third was blasted into the onrushing drakul as the circle on its belly exploded. 

It tripped the first wave, but three brutes wielding large axes jumped over and swung down at him. 

Sparks shot out as the weapons crashed against an invincible shield. 

The red mage eyed them. "Kneel."

The weapons fell from the hands of the brutes, crashing to the earth with a force much higher than their size implied. The brutes followed suit, falling to a knee as they struggled futiley to stand.

Absalon took one of the swords hanging beside him. He stepped forward and slowly sunk the blade into a terrified brute's heart. An eerie smile corrupted his features as he watched their expression twist from fear to realization. He repeated the motion with the other two, unchallenged by the other drakul paralyzed by fear.

"Bastard!" They cried as three mages shot out concentrated streams of mana at him. The bursts hit his shield as arrows from archers tried to penetrate. 

Absalon regarded them with eyes devoid of interest. "Enough. This is no challenge."

With a flick of his finger, the hovering weapons shot forward. The drakul cried out as the projectiles tore through them. 

Absalon tightened his fist and the weapons exploded within their hosts. He alone emerged from the fog of smoke and dust, eyes scanning the battlefield. "'This is not the pressure I felt. Where are you?"

***

Above the red mage, a dark elf paused to look at the column of smoke. "Nice. Seems we've got a strong one."

He turned to the drakul running at him. "Sorry," he said as he nocked an arrow, "I don't have time for this." 

Three arrows tore through the rain, the emblem of the Hopeful Maggots grafted onto the arrowheads. As lightning struck the horizon, they bore holes in rows of drakul. 

The executioner jumped over the collapsed bodies as he continued his run.

***

Shadow, Craig and the volunteers met up with Leila's group just as Jero and his group returned from their end.

Leila took stock of the status of both teams and was pleased to see they'd lost no one. "Where is Kashi?"

"He got held up," replied Shadow as he rested his head on his sister's shoulders. 

"Fear not," Craig said to allay their rising fear."He chose to stay behind. He said he would catch up with us."

Leila nodded. "Okay then. Time to move on to the next phase."

"Wait," interrupted Lunette. "We're not waiting for him?"

"There's no time," replied the interim leader. She equipped her bow, eyes scanning the palace roofs for any guards."He'll be fine. Men like him don't die even if you stab them."

The odd phrasing raised Lunette's brow. "Okay. I'm ready when you are."

Leila turned to Hektor. "Are you ready for your part?"

The brawler tightened his grip on his double-headed axe, a sickening grin revealing his excitement. "Was born ready."

"Good," Leila confirmed. She met the eyes of everyone present, confirming their resolve. Pleased with the light in their eyes, she raised her right hand. With clenched fists, she pointed at the castle. "Commence Operation."

Hektor's battle cry rivalled those of the heavens as he jumped onto the roof of a castle tower. He dug his fists into the roof to slow his descent, then jumped off. He curled into a ball, spinning as he continued his descent, the white of his blade blurring into a single circle with each revolution.

The drakul patrolling the castle courtyard never knew what hit them.

Hektor's axe slammed into the earth with the force of Thor's hammer. The ground cracked, bursting upwards, as the force of the blow blasted drakul in every direction. Smoke belched from the cracks shielding the courtyard from sight.

Gales of wind originating from the centre cleared the smoke. Its manipulator rested his axe on his shoulder, eyes and hair the color of blood. He stomped the earth, and declared in the loudest voice. "D name's Hektor! D man who'll earn d title, "God of War.' Come on out, sacrifices to my path!"

"Filthy human!" cried drakul as they poured out of the woodwork in droves.

"Heh. Come!" 

Boom!

Pillars of dust bursted around the red haired marauder, with dismembered drakul dropping to their feet.

"Trying to steal the spotlight, Hektor?" Iason asked as he pulled his lance from a corpse.

To his left, Jero released the drakul whose head faced an improbable angle. To the right, Narkis and Alex were soaked with blood from the dismembered bodies around them.

"Sit back ol' man,"  Hektor mocked, stepping in front of Iason. "Dis fight is mine."

Iason laughed, lance at the ready. "I know you're not talking bout me."

"Leave it kid," Jero chided. "We have company."

Drakul poured into the courtyard, weapons at the ready while their comrades trained arrows at the four invaders from a floor above.

"Surrounded, cornered with no place to go." 

"Just like old times then."

Fwish!

Thirty arrows whistled as they ripped towards their targets, but they never hit.

Narkis and Alex placed the hilts of their swords together, then rotated them till the blades were invisible. The twins hopped onto Ian and Hektor's forearms, from where they were launched in opposite directions towards the incoming arrows. 

The rotating blades scattered the projectiles as they flew towards the higher floor.

Narkis seized the rotation, then cut through bow, helmet and bone as he beheaded an archer. Opposite him, Alex sunk his sword into a lizard's shoulder, stabbed another in the stomach, then spun around and beheaded both of them. Like unstoppable forces of nature, the twins mowed through hordes of drakul. 

Blood rained down on the courtyard, the anguished cries of the fallen echoing in the night.

Hektor grew tired of waiting, so he charged. The drakul collectively thrusted their spears at him. His axe sparked against the ground as he slid on the ground. With a burst and a shout, he rose. He cleaved a drakul in half, repositioned his grip and slammed his axe through bodies to the ground. 

The force was so great it got stuck.

He released it. 

He blocked a sword attack with his right gauntlet, pushed its weilder back, ducked under another, punched its wielder's chin, caught the sword arm of one over his shoulder and tossed it over him. Dashing forward, he forced the axe off the ground, and with a full swing over his shoulder cleaved through sandwiched drakul.

Beside him, Iason stabbed a drakul in the heart, then palmed the end of his spear. It ran clean through, impaling two more. A mace struck at him from the back. He deftly side-stepped the blow, leaving his left leg in the drakul's path. It tripped. He grabbed the back of its head and slammed it into the handle of his spear. 

Wrestling the mace from its hand, he parried a strike, smashed a drakul's face in, then spun around and flung it right into the head of another. He retrieved his spear, dispatching three more.

Surrounded on all sides, Jero parried strike after strike of his attackers. He wove between their blades, dodging their strikes by a hair's breadth. Once he had their attack patterns memorized, he feinted a block. Stunned by the feint, the drakul overswung. 

Jero escaped through the breif opening, slicing open the drakul's neck as he did so. He pushed the corpse to its mates. The rest were dispatched with ice-cold precision. 

Even as they fought, the drakul only increased in number. It began to seem like numbers would win out in the end. Just then, battle cries rung out above.

The drakul looked up to see the volunteers falling towards them, weapons drawn. The reinforcements tore their way through the drakul, energized by their deputy's displays.

And so the battle for the castle intensified.

***

Fifth floor,

Royal Castle.

Elsewhere, Paris and Leila led the players through the the castle's corridors. Magelights placed on light green walls created a forest-like atmosphere. 

They pulled to a stop above a flight of stairs leading to the fourth floor. 

Drakul scurried back and forth on the floor as they ran to provide reinforcements to the warriors at the courtyard. 

"Lunette," Leila beckoned.

"On it," replied the bard. "Over here you overgrown lizards!" 

The drakul froze, then turned to the direction of the voice. A repeated shout had them running to the left.

"Neat trick," Stryke praised.

Lunette nodded, smiling in appreciation. "Thanks. It's called projection."

Paris motioned for them to follow, and they ran down the stairs. 

Unfortunately, two drakul had decided to wait behind. On spotting the intruders, they attacked.

"Leave this to me," Stryke said as he dashed forward. 

He blocked both drakul's strikes with his shield. He jumped, knocking them back, then kicked them both in the chest. He fell on his back as they staggered backwards.

Recovering quickly, the first struck at him. He rolled out of the way, and onto his knee, spun around, smashed the drakul's sword, and finally shielded an attack from the second. Adrenaline in full blow, he stabbed the second in its legs, then bashed it with his shield as he got to his feet. The first, realizing it was weaponless turned to run. 

Stryke flung his shield at the base of its neck; it fell. He spun around, using the momentum to cleave off the neck of the injured drakul, then walked over to the fallen and dispatched that too. 

clapclapclapclap!

The young knight looked up to a sound of applause from his teammates. They were collectively impressed at just how much he had improved since they started the game. It had gotten to a stage where they could easily rely on him for the vanguard role.

Blushing, he scratched the nape of his neck.

"Watch out!" Yuna cried as a magic circle formed around the young knight.

Clang! Fwoosh!

Stryke's heart nearly jumped out his chest as arrows zoomed past him. He turned to see three drakul clutching their chests in pain. 

Sara ran past him. Her fists glowed pink as she delivered a crunching blow  to the first. The force sent it flying several feet backwards. Her feet glowed as she punished the others with roundhouse kicks to their faces. Her kick dented the helmets and buried their heads in the walls.

Dropping her bow arm, Leila patted Stryke's as she walked past. "We're in enemy territory. Be careful."

"Got it," Stryke conceded. "Thanks for the help."

"Don't thank me. It was Yuna's timely ward that spared your life."

Stryke turned to the mage, a wide grin on his face as he made a V with his fingers. "Hehe. Seems I owe you one."

Yuna blushed, tightening her grip on her staff. "I-it was nothing special."

"Not at all," Paris said, patting her head. "He is right to be grateful. Saving a man's life is no small feat. Isn't that right, Stryke-kun?"

"Exactly."

Smiling, Paris led them down another flight of stairs, deftly silencing all enemies they encountered. He stopped in front of a pair of bronze doors with murals of trees etched onto it."The royal hall's behind this door. Is everyone prepared?"

Stryke banged his sword against his shield. "We wouldn't have come this far otherwise."

"Brave. That is an admirable trait." Paris slit his palm with his rapier and placed it on the door. "I, Parissius Veritus Vermillion, son of Ryhart Noel Vermillion, and lone successor to the 'Thorn Throne' command thee under the oath of blood... open!"

His blood spread across the door, then slowly disappeared as if sucked by the door. With a reluctant groan, the doors inched open of their own accord.

"All that to open a door?" Stryke mocked as they awaited the excruciatingly slow doors. "You royal types are weird."

"I know right?" Paris agreed. "I told my father on numerous occasions it was unnecessary but he never listened."

Leila was of a different mind. "I think it's quite effective as a last fortress for a king."

"Huh? How can you say that? It opens so slowly. What if we were being chased?" Stryke asked.

"Chances are the doors would be open until the royal family lock themselves inside. After that, anyone opening the door would be suspect. My guess is the process can be sped up from the inside right?"

"That is impressive," praised Paris. "How did you know that?"

She shrugged. "I designed something similar once."

"Watch out!" Yuna warned as flaming arrows accompanied by streams of fire burst out the slim opening. Luckily, Yuna's ward stopped their advance.

The surprise attack caused the invasion group to raise their weapons sharply.

The door fully and they made their into the throne room.

The hall was huge, with rows of pillars to the left and right holding up balconies from which nobles presided happenings. Behind a mass of drakul sat their leader on the Thorn Throne. It was a hulking mass, larger than the spriggan lord, and looked fiercer than anything any of them had faced so far.

"You did well to make it this far," declared the king. "Now perish."

With a wave of his hand, droves of arrow wielding drakul lined the overhead balcony. As they nocked their bows, one of the players smiled.

"I seem to have been forgotten," Craig said as he spun his staff around his person. Trails of fire danced around, following the path of his staff. ">"

The flames gained lives of their own as they revolved around the party, roasting away all incoming arrows. Not to be mistaken for shields, they burst outwards to the balconies, engulfing the drakul in it's unforgiving flames. 

Shadow took the opportunity of distraction to scale a pillar and land on the balcony. He dodged Craig's flaming dragon as he sliced his way through the archers. 

Stryke, Paris and Sara burst through the protective flames to attack the bodyguards head-on. 

A line of mages shot streams of electricity, ice and fire at the advancing trio. Their timid protector denied the mages their spoils as her wards shrugged off strike after strike.

"Now!" Stryke cried.

Yuna released her ward as he bashed his shield onto a wise-drakul(mage). He pushed the beast backwards till he hit the warrior at its back. His sword went through its heart to the one behind it. Two more fatal strikes ensured its demise as he dodged a strike and struck out with his sword.

Beside him, Paris hopped onto the head of a drakul. Using them as stepping stones, he charged the king. A brute hopped in the air and swung at him with a defiant battle cry. 

"I don't like ugly things," the young prince muttered. He hopped over the blow, balanced on two heads, whirled around and delivered seven lightning thrusts through the brute's chest. It perished before it hit the earth. The pause in his charge gave the drakul the time they needed. 

He lost his balance as they suddenly shifted and nearly fell to the angry mob. 

Hail of arrows fell around him, missing him by less than a hair. They struck the drakul, forcing a hole which he landed in. Just as he was contemplating his bad position, a path opened up to his side as a body knocked over several others.

Sara blew the smoke on her fists, a smug grin on her face. "HoraHoraHoraHora!" Her joy was plain for all to see as she pounded her way through the drakul.

Leila's cover-fire and buffs from Lunette's song proved helpful as they routed the last of the drakul.

Tired, but encouraged by victory, the party of seven plus one squared off against the king. 

The lizard king rose from his throne with the grace of royalty, his steps the swagger of battle veterans, and his eyes those of mass murderers. 

It raised his arm and two weapons larger than man fell to the ground beside him. The first was a curved blade, and the second a battle-axe. Chains wrapped around the weapons led to two rings which it clamped around its arm as it lifted the blades.

Silence echoed in the room as the players frowned at the name above its health bar.

Xeimdem the Drakul King: Lv.103

Strong! It was too strong! The level gap between it and the soldier drakul was over thirty! What manner of beast was this!

Their hesitation did not go unnoticed. "What is this? Are you scared?" Xeim mocked. "Choose to surrender now and I might consider sparing your lives."

Stryke's grip tightened around his sword as he swallowed hard. "Scared?" he questioned, chuckling. "Ah, maybe I am. But you know, there's this guy who's much scarier..."

Sara stepped forward, pounding her fists together. "Right, right. He's rude, annoying, is completely clueless to a maiden's feelings-"

"But when in a pinch, there's no one you'd want more watching your back," Paris finished, brandishing his rapier to his chest as he took a calm breath.

Shadow morphed beside them, blades at the ready. "He can be insanely reckless-"

"But he ends up with a victory either way," Lunette said, her hights bright with resolve.

"So, if all we have to do is hold you till he gets here," Yuna muttered, hands tight on her staff.

"We shall do so with no fear," Criag declared.

"Why? Because once he gets here..." Leila said.

"You're as good as dead!" they chorused.

... Xeimdem 's slow clap echoed around the hall. "Beautiful. Top notch drama. I should consider hiring you as court jesters."

"Bastar-"

"Shut it kid!" Xeim spat. "Come at me and meet your ends."

With defiant cries they charged the beast.

***

Thirty minutes later,

Xeim shrugged off Leila's arrows as it kicked Sara in the stomach. It launched the worn-out girl through a pillar and she was lucky to avoid the falling debris. Yuna drained the last of her mana to heal the fallen pugilist, but even that only kept her alive. She was out of the fight. And she wasn't the only one. 

Of the eight, only Leila, Paris and Shadow were still in the fight.

They had managed to reduce Xeim's health to half, but it had gotten fiercer as the fight wore on. To make things worse, the game's in-built fatigue system dulled most of their current attacks.

Shadow flitted around its shoulder and back, slicing wherever he could, but fatigue got the better of him and he slipped. 

Xeim grabbed his limp body and tossed it across the room, where he rolled to a stop, unable to move.

Paris side-stepped Xeim's subsequent strike, and but could not dodge the follow up. He blocked with his rapier but he was launched next to Shadow, where his rapier shattered to bits.

Leila put up a good fight, effortlessly dodging its strikes as she kept up her barrage. However, the mental strain caused her to miss a puddle of sweat on the floor. She slipped and collapsed to the floor, fatigue preventing her from moving any further.

Xeim grinned as it raised its axe high... and swung down!

"Leila!" the party screamed to no avail. The huntress could barely keep awake, let alone move.

Boom! Boom!

A black direwolf whisked the huntress away as Xeim was launched upwards and backwards by four rapidly spinning arrows drilling through both its shoulders. 

A being of darkness stepped into the hall, the emblem of a howling wolf glowing on his forehead. He nocked arrows into his bow, his cold eyes, promising death to his target. "You raised a hand against my guild. Prepare to pay the price.."