Screams and the clash of metal echoed in the dungeon. The scent of blood, smoke and rot filled the air. Someone barked orders far away, and several voices rose in response. Was that laughter he heard among this chaos?

  Thick, snake-like vines slammed him into the cave wall. A gasp escaped his lips as a sharp pain shot up his right leg. The vines retreated, allowing him to fall down, then reared back.

  White flames burst from his blade as he fell on his knees. They clung to the vines. The more they consumed, the brighter and colder they grew.

  A blade he couldn’t halt sliced through the burning ends of the vines. Every time he burned them, every time he had a chance to stop their advance, the cultist leader surged forward, severing his flames. And each time, more vines slithered forth, their numbers growing endlessly, no matter what he did. The man then retreated, waiting for his ally to continue.

  As the vines slithered forth once more, Midhir spared a glance over his shoulder, his gaze looking for the silhouette of the Enforcer.

  The dungeon was too dark compared to the cave, so most of what he saw was just silhouettes locked in fights, scattered all over the place. Where was she? Why hadn’t she come to his aid yet?

  The sound of wood brushing against rocks alerted him. His gaze snapped back to his own battle – a battle against an opponent unseen. If only he could reach whoever was controlling the forest…

  No. That wasn’t his fight. His role wasn’t to fight at all. He swung his blade, cutting off the vines leaping towards him. A single moment of carelessness had dragged him halfway across the cave. He couldn’t allow that to happen again. With a grunt, he fed more power to the augment. The flames grew brighter, following the path of his blade, and spreading forward in waves.

  What was keeping Enforcer Aoidh from coming to his aid? The question gnawed at him. None of the cultists he saw seemed particularly powerful, and even if they all turned on her at once, they couldn’t hold her back for long.

  The sound of rapid footsteps echoed as the cultist leader stumbled away from the path of his flames. “I admire your dedication, your highness, but I’m afraid you won’t last long if you keep this up.” He folded his arms, leaning against the cave wall. “We both know that you’re at your limit.”

  Midhir gritted his teeth. His smug voice made him want to punch the man.

  “No matter how much you try, you won’t stop us.” The man’s voice grew cold. “The Old Gods long to be released, and-“

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  “Released?!” Midhir exclaimed, slamming a fistful of flames into one of the approaching vines. Like a snake whose head was smashed, it fell to the ground, twitching as the flames spread rapidly. “What made you think they needed to be released in the first place?” His voice cracked. “You fool of a man – all you’re doing is disturbing their sleep!”

  The cultist leader clenched his fists. “They are imprisoned beyond the Veil!” He shouted back. “Once we destroy that accursed barrier they will be freed, and we will be rewarded with ascension!”

  There was no point in trying to reason with the man. He already knew that. He, just like all the others, had been blinded by his faith, his eyes veiled by empty promises.

  “There is no ascension!” He shouted, cutting off another set of vines slithering towards him. Grasping a jutting rock on the cave wall, he pulled himself back on his feet. “We are nothing but ants to the Gods! To any god!” Be it gods of light and goodness, darkness and evil, all-consuming flames or deities of trickery, or the Old Gods. In the grand stage of the universe, their world was nothing but a small rock floating around a speck of light in the near-infinite darkness.

  The cultist leader hesitated, momentarily thrown off. Though his helmet concealed his face, the tension in his stance was clear—his arms stiffened, his legs braced, and his fists tightened around the hilt of the sword he had snatched from the ground earlier.

  “You slander the gods!” He shouted, slamming his foot down as he marched towards Midhir. “How dare you speak of them so? They have promised us ascension and-“

  A sharp scream startled him. He stopped in his tracks just a few steps before he reached Midhir. Both their gazes snapped towards the dungeon just in time to see something concealed by black cloth fly through the air. It slammed into the cultist leader, knocking him down along with it.

  Before Midhir could react, something rushed past him, slamming him back against the cave wall. A sharp breath escaped his lips as pain flared through his already aching leg. He clung to a protruding rock, his gaze finally catching up with the chaos unfolding before him.

  Enforcer Aoidh stood towering over the cultist leader and the thing – no, person – that slammed into him. She raised her blade above her head and struck down.

  Thick, gnarly roots burst out of the cave floor, climbing up towards her descending blade. It cut through them, but layers upon layers of roots rose to shield the two cultists.

  The figure shrouded in a black cloak scrambled to her feet, her gaze locking with Midhir’s for a brief moment. Her eyes widened, and she hesitated, biting her lip before flicking a glance toward the grunting, disoriented cultist leader. She seemed conflicted, but Enforcer Aoidh’s blade finally smashing the roots shielding them pushed her into action.

  A dagger appeared in her hand, its blade catching the glow of the white-silver flames as she spun it, gripping it by the tip. With a swift motion, she hurled it toward Midhir before retreating behind her leader’s half-conscious form. Her fingers grazed the hilt of another dagger at her belt, summoning a gust of wind as a green crystal embedded in the weapon pulsed to life.

  Enforcer Aoidh drew a sharp breath as she changed the direction of her blade, barely knocking the flying dagger off its path.

  Midhir hurled a ball of flame towards the young woman as she picked her leader up with shocking ease. The flames dissipated as they slammed against the winds whirling around her.

  Enforcer Aoidh lunged forward to follow them.

  “Don’t!” His voice snapped like a whip. “They’re long gone.”