“It was Focus,” I said quietly to Marcy as I swept my scepter in a tight arc. Wind Cutter shrieked through the air, shredding a Skittermote.

  “What are you talking about?” she snapped. Her hand flashed, golden claws ripping through the swarm. Purple shells split apart like wet clay. She wasn’t even trying to hide the power of the Celestial Dragon anymore.

  “That’s how he stopped Abbot from moving.”

  “Don’t talk nonsense,” she muttered, carving through another wave. “Damn it. They just keep coming.”

  Skittermotes poured in without end, red-pink bodies dragging like snails, yet surging forward at impossible speeds. Violet slime smeared across the floor as they advanced, thin needle?appendages twitching from their hunched backs.

  I understood why she didn’t believe me.

  Focus was a joke of a spell. Basic. Inefficient. A tiny boost to the next cast, paid for with a brutal Mana spike. Most people dismissed it outright.

  They weren’t wrong, unless you knew the trick.

  By stacking Focus over and over, its weak effect was drowned beneath sheer accumulation, like a snowball rolling downhill, growing larger and larger.

  Large enough that Ivvan’s mediocre slow-field delayed Abbot.

  Long enough that Abbot couldn’t reach his mark.

  Long enough to trigger the penalty that killed him.

  Not that I blamed Ivvan entirely. Even ants fought back when they were stepped on too often. And I didn’t feel a shred of pity for Abbot.

  But losing him hurt us badly.

  We’d lost our area?damage dealer.

  “Hey, elf,” Marcy said coldly after hearing the explanation. “Kill that wizard. He did kill Abbot.”

  “I’m a little busy,” Darwyn replied as more Skittermotes slipped past him, sprinting for the crystalline spire. His arrows dropped targets one by one, but single kills weren’t enough. “Deal with him later. I’m not getting dragged into your vendetta.”

  “He’s right!” Muradin bellowed, already being swarmed. “No time!”

  Another wave flooded in, their numbers borderline absurd.

  There was no space left. The Skittermotes slipped past Muradin entirely, surging forward in a blur of twitching shells and antenna-like tails.

  Hebert slammed his sword into the ground.

  The shockwave tore outward, obliterating the front line and flinging others into the air like broken dolls. But for every one he crushed, three more slipped through.

  I stole a quick glance at Darwyn, our final line of defense. He fired without pause.

  Ivvan didn’t help. He only cast Osmose, draining Mana from the monsters to restore his own.

  Cracks spiderwebbed across the crystalline spire. Chunks splintered off and shattered on the floor.

  “Marcy,” I said tightly. “You have to use it.”

  She didn’t answer.

  Blue scales erupted across her skin, racing over her body like living armor. Two gleaming golden horns curved out from her head.

  Azure Morph.

  The transformation gained from Azerion, the Celestial Dragon.

  “Stop gawking,” Marcy commanded. “Help the backline.”

  Her voice had changed. Deeper, resonant, and magnificent. She opened her mouth and unleashed a torrent of brilliant blue energy.

  Everything in front of her vanished.

  The Skittermotes surrounding Muradin disintegrated in a chorus of shrill, dying screams before radiant light swallowed them whole. When the glow finally faded, Muradin and Hebert were still standing, completely untouched.

  Most of the creatures had been erased in a single attack.

  Then Marcy reverted, the scales dissolving as quickly as they’d appeared.

  The crisis wasn’t over.

  Dozens of Skittermotes still clung to the crystalline spire, gnawing at it relentlessly.

  We had two problems.

  First, it was just Darwyn and me. We could only strike one target at a time, and my Wind Cutter couldn’t land enough consecutive hits to trigger Tornado Slash.

  Second, Ivvan.

  He was planning something. He had to be. The moment this wave ended, his life would be next, and there was no way he’d accept that quietly.

  Whether I liked it or not, I had to side with Marcy if we wanted to clear this place.

  “He’s stacking Focus again,” I said quietly to Marcy and Hebert, careful not to let Ivvan hear. “Be ready.”

  “I’m not scared,” Hebert scoffed. “What can a weakling like him even do? I can’t wait to finish him off.”

  “That kind of thinking,” I said grimly as another monster fell, “is exactly what got Abbot killed.”

  The crystalline spire looked pitiful now, with one section caved in and cracks crawling across its surface. Its health had to be below half.

  “Don’t worry about us,” Marcy said calmly. “Just make sure we survive this wave.”

  One by one, the remaining Skittermotes fell.

  Cling! Cling! Cling!

  The sound we’d been waiting for rang out at last.

  All the monsters were gone.

  We had survived the wave.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  ***

  The silence afterward was wrong.

  My grip tightened around the scepter as I turned toward Ivvan.

  He hadn’t moved. No cheer. No relief. Just that same stiff posture, eyes flicking between us like a trapped animal measuring distance.

  I ran through the possibilities again.

  If he cast Slow again, it wouldn’t matter. We’d seen it once already, and it could be mitigated easily.

  Part of me almost hoped that was what he’d do.

  But Fireball was the obvious choice. Muradin had already repositioned, shield ready.

  The next possibility was worse, taking Darwyn as hostage.

  “Darwyn, back away from him!” I shouted.

  He moved instantly, retreating without question.

  And then there was the last one. The worst-case scenario.

  He might’ve been hiding another spell, something stronger than Fireball. Something meant to kill in a single strike.

  But we were ready.

  Marcy lunged the instant the wave ended, Windstride flaring around her legs as golden claws ignited. If we struck first, if we ended it before he could finish…

  But Ivvan moved faster.

  Mana surged. Heat spiked.

  A ball of fire bloomed in his palm, impossibly dense, the air around it screaming as it warped.

  Marcy slowed, instincts screaming as she shifted to evade.

  “I-I’m sorry, Darwyn,” Ivvan said, voice shaking. “I don’t have any other choice.”

  He released the spell.

  Fuck.

  It didn’t come toward us.

  It slammed into the purple crystalline spire.

  Everything happened at once.

  Crystals erupted from the ground at our designated spots. Ivvan was impaled instantly, his body torn apart before he could even scream. Hebert wasn’t far enough away, he howled as a shard punched through his back and threw him to the ground.

  The chamber shook violently.

  Cracks tore across the ground and walls, spreading faster than I could track. Light flickered, then bled away entirely where the fractures split open, revealing a void of deep violet nothingness.

  “Stay as long as you can!” I shouted as the floor split beneath me. I leapt just as the ground collapsed into a gaping purple hole. “Don’t step on the cracks!”

  The tremors worsened.

  A massive slab of ceiling crashed down on Muradin. He barely raised his shield in time, the impact driving him to one knee.

  Then the ground beneath Hebert gave way.

  Still sprawled, he clawed at the dirt, trying to crawl.

  It collapsed.

  He disappeared into the void.

  “Watch out!” I yelled.

  Marcy snapped out of her shock just in time, twisting aside as debris tore past her.

  “He’s not necessarily dead.” I said, breath ragged.

  And I meant it.

  When a Dimensional Fracture collapsed, survival wasn’t impossible.

  There was a chance. Small. Cruel. Never guaranteed.

  If the void expelled you instead of consuming you, you’d be thrown back into the Tower at a random coordinate. The closer the collapse came to completion, the more violent the instability became…

  …but the less likely it was to devour us whole.

  Which meant one thing.

  The longer we stayed alive in here, the better our odds.

  ***

  I didn’t have time to check on the others. Survival demanded everything I had.

  Fortunately, I knew this situation far too well. In Dreadspire, I had deliberately triggered this before, usually when a clear was no longer possible.

  There was always a warning.

  Before the cracks appeared, the ground emitted a faint purple glow. So thin it was almost invisible unless you were actively watching for it.

  I kept moving.

  Chunks of terrain vanished without sound, collapsing into nothingness. Despite my sluggish build, I forced my body to endure, shifting positions whenever the glow reappeared beneath my feet.

  “By Thrain’s name, I’m not afraid!”

  Muradin’s shout echoed across the fracture, then grew distant, stretched thin, and vanished.

  My stomach twisted. I could only hope the dwarf had survived.

  More than half the terrain was gone now, leaving behind massive, yawning holes. I angled toward the center, where the remaining platforms overlapped just enough to give me options.

  I never stayed in one place longer than a few seconds.

  Something struck me from above.

  A sharp shard slammed into my shoulder, nearly knocking me off balance. I ignored the pain. The ground beneath my boots was already glowing again.

  Move.

  I leapt aside just as the surface collapsed.

  By now, the odds of being thrown back to the Tower should’ve been decent. But luck had never been on my side.

  I pushed forward anyway, even as my body protested. My legs grew heavy. Blood soaked into my sleeve, strength leaking out with every step.

  There were barely any footholds left.

  I saw Marcy slip.

  For a split second, golden light flared as she tried to recover, but there was nothing left to catch. She fell without a sound.

  Only Darwyn and I remained.

  He lasted on sheer Agility and reflex alone, dancing across fragments no wider than stepping stones. But even that had limits.

  “Stay alive, Erynd!” Darwyn shouted. “And don’t forget our promise!”

  The ground beneath him shattered.

  He dropped in what almost looked like an elegant fall.

  Then I was alone.

  I held on a little longer. Long enough that my vision started to blur. Long enough that there was nowhere left to go.

  When the ground beneath my feet began to crumble, I didn’t fight it.

  I let go.

  I fell into a deep violet void.

  Something seized my body, yanking me in random directions every few seconds, as if unseen hands were toying with me. I tried to inhale.

  There was no air.

  My lungs burned. Panic clawed up my spine as consciousness began to slip away.

  Fear wrapped around me like a suffocating cloak. My thoughts spiraled, torn between worrying about Muradin and Darwyn, and selfishly hoping I would survive this.

  Then everything went dark.

  Suddenly, my body was ripped backward at a terrifying speed. A sharp ziiink screamed in both my ears.

  “Achooo!”

  I sneezed violently.

  Pain flared through my ribs as my body slammed onto solid ground, the impact knocking the air from my lungs.

  I lay there for several seconds, choking, chest burning as breath finally came back to me.

  I had survived.

  My nose itched terribly, forcing me to rub it hard. For a brief moment, Alwen came to mind, his nose always red from rubbing it the same way.

  The memory made my chest ache.

  I sat up slowly and scanned my surroundings, searching for any sign of Muradin or Darwyn.

  Of course, it was a hollow hope.

  There was no one else in sight.

  Just me, alone beneath a dark sky. The same one I’d seen when I first entered the Dimensional Fracture. Time inside flowed differently, far faster than here.

  I winced as I pulled the shard fragment from my shoulder and cast Rejuvenation. Warm light stitched my flesh together, but it did nothing for the exhaustion crashing over me.

  My eyelids grew impossibly heavy.

  I lay back down.

  When I opened my eyes again, daylight greeted me.

  Sunlight stabbed into my face, dragging a groan from my throat. I sat up at once, alert despite the lingering fatigue.

  I checked the area.

  After walking for some time, I reached the edge of a steep cliff. Below, a group of Hoblins prowled through the terrain, sniffing the air as they searched for prey.

  Without realizing it, I broke into a wide grin. I couldn’t believe how happy I felt seeing those monsters.

  I was still in the Redridge Range region. At least I wouldn’t need to change my plans.

  With my spirits lifted, I turned away from the cliff and headed in the opposite direction, searching for something distinct, something easy to recognize.

  It didn’t take long.

  A rocky trail stretched ahead of me, rising and dipping unevenly across the hillside.

  I stopped.

  No way.

  I knew this place.

  It was painfully familiar.

  math on his side.

  MILESTONES

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