Merideva moved into the fiends’ flank, blazing staff blurring, and Ursan landed farther south, pounding the ground as he did and causing dozens of Okozs to shake and collapse as the ground tore itself apart.
Then Scorio reached the last peak and gazed down at the Okozs bunched up below. They wrestled with each other, furious, not understanding why those in front weren’t moving forward, slamming and shoving and howling until those closest to the flank saw the new source of assault.
Scorio screamed, spread his arms wide, and flew down upon them. Bronze flowed directly into his burning Heart, and the first of the Okozs turned to face him, beating its chest in fury.
Kelona blurred past Scorio, a golden meteor, and slammed into the Okoz so hard that she embedded herself in its chest, shattering its broad sternum. Scorio adjusted his descent to skim over the already falling fiend and fall upon the one behind. It tried to backhand him out of the air with a mighty fist, but Scorio slashed its hand apart with his own burning talons. Bright yellow blood fountained out as Scorio flew straight into its face and tore its jaw off with one swipe, then punched his burning talons into the bleeding hole that remained and punctured what was left of its brain.
An Okoz grabbed him from behind, only to lose its grip as the Nightmare Lady stepped out of a fog bank to cut its arm off with her tail. Scorio dropped, pulling his wings in, became flame just as another fiend went to punch him, and even as it howled in pain, its arm instantly charred, he inhaled the fire and breathed out a gout of black fire that enveloped three others, causing them to reel back, immolated.
The Shadow Petal appeared above another Okoz, swiping through its head and shoulder with both blades as she fell back out of view, and Fyrona strode forward, swinging her head from side to side as she unleashed short bursts of black energy, cutting down Okozs wherever she looked.
Kelona flew into Scorio’s field of view, her golden body deformed by a massive punch that had wrapped her around its fist, but she gave Scorio a thumb’s up even as she started righting herself. Wesyd was only a handful of steps behind Scorio, weaving his invisible chains around the air, and to Scorio’s delight he saw an Okoz falter as it ran through one, putting a huge fist to the side of its blue face as the Tomb Spark’s power stunned it.
Juna was a rolling ball of filaments, tentacles spearing out again and again to stab at fiends, only for one to sink in deep enough that he could pull off his Flame Vault power—his entire mass of ropes sank into that one tentacle and flowed into the Okoz he’d speared, and a moment later Juna was gone, the spike sinking in last. The Okoz paused, dazed, then turned around and slammed both fists into its neighbor, sending the fiend crashing into the remnants of the next dune.
But for all the fiends they’d killed, there were still more pouring in from the back of the herd, howling and leaping down from the sky to fall amongst them with pounding blows. Merideva moved through the chaos surrounded now by a dozen burning staffs that attacked of their own accord, each blow charring a face or snapping a huge limb. Then Wesanin cruised through a huge knot of the Okozs, filling the air with fury and sand, sending the massive apes spinning and tumbling in his wake, their hides stripped down to bloody flesh.
Scorio continuously reined in the urge to let loose and dive into the fray. Always he kept an eye on Wesyd and Kelona, moving to assist them when necessary, blowing forth a gout of black flame when an opening presented itself. Wesyd was soaked in sweat and caked in sand, his arms straining as he worked his chains about himself, stunning Okoz after Okoz just long enough for Kelona to hurl herself into them, golden fists pounding into faces and endlessly deforming themselves only to reform as fists once she fell back.
Nyrix appeared off to one side, Galvon beside him, and the House Kraken Dread Blaze immediately unleashed a huge wall of shimmering force that burst over a score of Okozs, dropping them to their knees. Merideva moved in, twenty burning staffs around her, and like a one-woman army set to demolishing the foundering foes.
The Nightmare Lady and the Shadow Petal seemed to be in a competition, both flickering in and out of existence again and again, tail and blades slashing out to cut off feet, cut throats, or spear into eyes. The Nightmare Lady’s tails were furiously lashing at all foes who came close, a forest of blades that hacked and cut down as many fiends as the Nightmare Lady herself.
Scorio eased up, trying to keep track of what was going on around him. It was a novel experience; always he’d let slip his murderous instincts and set about the business of butchery, but now he tried to keep his head and a sense of the battle.
The long-range attackers were closing in on the far side, driving in toward the center. Hundreds of Okozs still scrambled and fell at the front, though some used their fallen friends as launch pads to hurl themselves at Taron, only to be shot out of the sky by a cadre of Great Souls who’d moved behind him and unleashed a barrage of attacks each time they were threatened.
That’s when it hit Scorio: this wasn’t a battle.
It was a massacre.
Penaela’s sun continued to slide through the heart of the herd, rupturing and melting fiends by the dozens. Rharvyn’s explosions killed fiends by the handful and imploded knots of resistance. Wesanin sewed discord as he flowed across the battlefield, weathering punches and great sweeps of the Okozs’ arms without faltering. Flame Vault and Tomb Sparks fought at the edges, unleashing their powers into the milling fiends.
Everywhere the desert was turning into yellow, bloody mud.
But the Okozs weren’t completely helpless; Ursan took a huge fist across the face that sent his ogre form spinning through the air and slamming into the flank of a distant dune. Fyrona was saved by Nyrix just as an Okoz nearly fell right upon her head, the crossbow man opening a portal beside her and yanking her through seconds before the huge fiend slammed down.
Wesyd let out a cry of alarm as three Okozs overwhelmed his chains. Scorio summoned his Shroud before the Tomb Spark, and as the fiends pounded on the glowing shield he inhaled a chestful of flame and then incinerated the trio.
The danger lay in how quickly their company was consuming mana. The ambient mana was already reduced to wisps, and here and there Tomb Sparks and Flame Vaults were falling back, their Hearts guttered. Wesyd moved in close behind Scorio, his chains vanishing, and a moment later Kelona’s golden form faded away.
“Nyrix!” Scorio pitched his voice to carry, and the crossbow man, a dune away, glanced over, loosed a bolt at Scorio’s feet, and appeared through it a second later. “Go!” barked Scorio, pushing Wesyd and Kelona toward the portal.
“But -!” cried out Kelona, but Nyrix took her arm, pulled her through, and when Wesyd followed the portal closed and for the first time Scorio was free.
He leaped up, wings forming, and surveyed the battle.
Half the Okozs were dead. Their bodies were piled up higher than the dunes. Two-thirds of the Great Souls were retreating from the battle, Hearts guttered. The Dread Blazes fought on, but they probably only had a minute or more of reservoir mana left.
It was time to get to work.
Pulling in the last sip of Bronze, Scorio began drawing from his own massive reservoir for the first time, and dove into the fray.
Chapter 37
The bonfire burned brightly, salvaged fiend bones blazing as fuel and lighting up the dull red sky. Taron’s company was gathered in a rough collective, animated and laughing, several Great Souls having pulled forth instruments with which to enliven the evening. Charnel Duke Plassus had saluted their victory by sending over a barrel of Copperfire, and its spicy, metallic tang interwove with the cottony scent of burning bones.