Insomniac Player

The moment Damien disappeared past the third floor, the battlefield changed.

Whatever haze had been sitting over Ironfall’s defenders lifted like mist burning off under sunlight. The Horn of the Chief had run out.

The maddened look drained out of the knights’ eyes. Their reckless charges stopped mid-stride. Cold discipline settled back in behind it.

The Elite Knights broke off their one-on-one duels and started repositioning, precise and coordinated, no wasted movement anywhere.

Doctor Smoke’s expression darkened. "...Horn’s effect just ended."

Madam Marvel clicked her tongue. "Faster than I hoped."

Naked Nun rested her black sword against one shoulder. "Real fun starts now. Was getting bored."

The seven surviving Elite Knights spread out in silence. Nobody rushed in. Nobody swung wild. They closed around the four women slow and deliberate, the way hunters close on something that’s already cornered.

The Knight Commander hadn’t moved. His crimson eyes tracked the field from behind the helmet, and he still hadn’t swung once, watching the whole thing the way someone watches a fight they already know the outcome of.

Doctor Smoke caught it too. "...He’s not even taking us seriously."

Madam Marvel’s grip tightened on her staff. "Because he doesn’t have to."

The Commander lifted his greatsword, not toward them, toward Madam Marvel’s stone wall, and swung.

BOOOOOOOOOOM!!

The blade tore straight through solid rock. Chunks bigger than wagons went flying. Dust swallowed the whole street, and when it cleared, the barrier that had held back hundreds of knights was gone in a single stroke.

Doctor Smoke swore under her breath. "...Shit."

Boots hit the ground in a wall of sound.

CLANG! CLANG! CLANG!

Knights poured through the gap where the wall had stood, dozens, then hundreds, an ordinary-soldier tide with no end visible behind it. Ten more Elites emerged from deeper in the town behind them.

Doctor Smoke counted under her breath. "Seventeen elites. One commander. Three hundred regulars."

Naked Nun grinned. "Now this feels fair."

Delulu blinked. "...Fair?"

"For them."

The Elites came in together this time. Two broke off toward Naked Nun, and unlike the first wave, neither one walked into her blade’s reach carelessly. One attacked while the other held back, waiting, veteran timing that had clearly been drilled a hundred times over.

Every swing of her sword met an intercept. The second knight countered a half-second behind it, and for the first time, she was the one giving ground.

"...Interesting." Her grin widened. "I like clever boys."

The black blade came around again.

CLANG!

One knight caught it. The other drove a spear in low, and she twisted just enough that it scraped her ribs instead of sinking in. A thin line of red welled up against pale skin.

She looked down at it and smiled. "...You actually got me. Congratulations."

The street dissolved back into chaos.

Madam Marvel floated above the wreckage, hair drifting around her as a ring of crimson magic circles gathered overhead. Heat rolled off her hard enough that even Doctor Smoke stepped back a pace without meaning to.

Her eyes opened. "...Burn."

➤[Skill Activated: Fire Tornado]

The staff came down, and the ground split open beneath a spiral of crimson flame tearing straight into the sky. It swallowed everything in its path, Elites, regulars, stone buildings, the road itself softening under heat that had no business existing outside a forge. Whatever screaming there was ended fast. Armor glowed orange, then ran liquid, black smoke pouring out of shells that used to be soldiers.

By the time the fire died down, two Elite Knights were simply gone, and dozens of regulars lay scattered across scorched stone in puddles of what used to be plate armor.

Doctor Smoke glanced sideways. "...You always overdo it."

Madam Marvel tucked a loose strand of hair back into place. "They’re still coming."

She wasn’t wrong. Fresh knights already filled the gaps the fire had cleared, like the town had an endless supply stacked up behind it.

On a rooftop across the street, Delulu swapped weapons. Blue light gathered in her hands and resolved into a sleek silver rifle, barrel long enough to look almost comical against her frame, a scope twice the width of her own head.

She sighted down it, not at the regulars, not at an Elite. At the Commander.

He stood perfectly still.

She smiled. "...Headshot."

BANG!!

The mana round tore through the air faster than the crack of the shot itself, straight for the visor. At the last instant the Commander’s greatsword came up on its own, almost lazy.

TUNG!!

Sparks. The round shattered against the flat of the blade like it had hit a wall.

Delulu blinked. "...Eh?"

He was already gone from where he’d been standing, and by the time her eyes caught up, he was standing right in front of her.

"...Oops."

His boot moved.

BOOOOOOM!!

The kick caught her square in the stomach and sent her flying like she’d been fired out of something, through two rooftops and into the side of a stone house that came down on top of her a second later.

Doctor Smoke didn’t even look over. She raised one hand toward the rubble instead.

➤[Skill Activated: Instant Heal]

Green light rolled out across the ruin. Bones cracked loudly back into their sockets underneath the stone, and a few seconds later the pile blew outward from the inside as Delulu crawled free, covered head to toe in dust and grinning like nothing had happened.

She stretched. "...Thanks, Leader."

Doctor Smoke nodded once. "Don’t get kicked again."

"Roger." Another rifle bloomed into her hands like the last one had never left.

Doctor Smoke exhaled. "...Kids."

Bruised, worn thin, and boxed in on every side, none of them stepped back an inch. Their job hadn’t changed. Buy Damien time, whatever that ended up costing.

◇◇◇

Far above them, Damien climbed another flight of stairs, faint explosions rattling through the stone under his feet, dust drifting loose from the ceiling with every impact.

His fists curled at his sides. "They’re still fighting."

His steps didn’t slow down.

He reached the next landing, a rusted plaque bolted beside the doorway. Fourth Floor. He let out a breath. "One floor left."

Every explosion echoing up through the walls was the price they were paying to buy him this staircase. He bowed his head once, quiet. "...Hold on. I’m not wasting what you bought me."

He stepped onto the fourth floor and kept moving, disappearing deeper into the silent heart of Ironfall Castle while an entire army tore the streets apart below him.