"Fuck off, Rookie. We won’t sell this Orb cheaply."

  It was Jythorne who spoke. He stood between the other two Buffalo Griidlords.

  He projected confidence, but I could hear the desperation. They had entered this Choosing with only three Griidlords. From what I understood, they had yet to win an Orb. Their city shook under the machinations of the Green Men, the population bubbling with revolt. Flows were more precious to these Griidlords than they were to us. But this Orb contained fragments—maybe the last fragments we needed to access the Locked Orbs when the season came to a close.

  I heard more confidence in my voice than I expected. “We’ve come willing to pay the price.”

  Jythorne boomed, “I mean it, Rookie. We will have this Orb. We need this fucking Orb. There will be no yielding today.”

  I understood the seriousness of what he said, and I believed him. They would fight to the death or incapacitation. I felt myself faltering slightly, unsure if this was truly worth the risk.

  Before I could contemplate further, Chowwick’s voice roared down the slope at them. “We won’t fucking yield either, lads! You need to get that square in your head. And if you think your honor’s beaten to shit with no Flows won and with the city ready to revolt, think of what it will be like when you’re laid low by a rookie. You might have heard of the Blood Butcher of Boston, eh lads? The Blood Prince, they call him! You ready to see what he does to you?”

  Jythorne snapped, “He’s no fucking Prince. What’s he done, win a few Flows? Who hasn’t?”

  Chowwick howled with laughter. “Well, you sure as fuck haven’t! Not this year at least!”

  I couldn’t see Jythorne’s face beyond the barrier of his helm, but it was easy to imagine his expression contorting with rage. He leveled his sword, and it blazed with light as a decent BEAM flashed at Chowwick. The big man barely paused in his laughter as he blocked the BEAM with his huge shield.

  “Shit…”

  The Buffalo Griidlords fanned out, weapons ready. Chowwick was still laughing as he started allowing the slope to slide him down toward them on the loose snow. Behind me, I felt Magneblade charge, intent and soundless, to the left flank of the arrayed Griidlords.

  “Wasssuuuuup,” the voice erupted in my mind.

  I thought back to it frantically. Now, really?

  I moved swiftly down the slope with the others. These Griidlords were similarly leveled to us. They had something of a slight edge in level, even. I felt the danger of being pulled along by a current I couldn’t see. But pulling back seemed an impossibility in that moment.

  Enki’s voice was boisterous. “I just thought I might check in. Sorry I haven’t been around more, toots. Falling season is busy times, lots to take my attention, you know how it is—time is power and all that. Nice going on the levels, kiddo. My my, almost at level 30…”

  The Buffalo Griidlords had hoped to catch us with type disadvantages as we descended. They had hoped our downward momentum would make it harder for us to choose our opponents, leaving the choice to them. Chowwick and Magneblade moved to either side of them.

  A pincer movement like this was effective in many ways: compressing the opponent, limiting their freedom to move and maneuver, making obstacles out of each other. But it laid our positions clear, allowed them to move their Shield to face Magneblade, allowed their Axe to stay central and face me. It seemed like a disaster waiting to happen.

  I realized that despite the length of the campaign season, I had never really fought much in close proximity to Magneblade. I had no idea how he would coordinate with us. I had never even used Assess on him. I didn’t know his level.

  Enki’s voice babbled away, distracting me. I had no time or attention to spare to respond to him. “Kiddo, level 30 is close. Another skill. And look, baddies! I hadn’t even noticed them. Nice strong baddies too. Just the thing you need. Oh! I have just the thing for this. I was embarrassed to get caught off guard when you fought those filthy bastards after the big lout got his legs all wound up. But I’ve been practicing.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  I went airborne, letting Agility carry me above them. I already had the height advantage of being further up the slope. I wanted to disrupt their plans. I had no type advantage over any of them, but I wanted to avoid the Axe. I wanted to sow enough chaos that maybe Chowwick could lock up their Axe or even give Magneblade an opening at Jythorne.

  But they had their own intentions.

  In a fraction of a second, six gods took their actions. I descended from above, unwilling to chance wasting Axe-break and missing while airborne, my sword blazing with CUT. Jythorne turned for a moment from the impending Chowwick to pulse BEAM at me. Snowfang, their Axe, held his blade low, kinetic fire erupting around it as he began to swing up at me. The light rose from the Shield of Bonefrost as he started to pulse against Magneblade’s movement, to repel him. The light on Chowwick’s helm blazed brighter than ever as he activated a skill. Magneblade’s visor mimicked his, the intense light of his POWER highlighting what seemed to be a million whirling snowflakes.

  Things didn’t happen in the ideal sequence, but they went well enough.

  Jythorne’s BEAM caught me in the air, spearing my side, causing me to writhe and twist, my body rotating in the air from the kinetic impact, exposing me to Snowfang’s rising axe. Magneblade became a ghost. I barely understood what I saw. It was some version of the Footfield entanglement, but a skill of some kind. He phased through the form of Bonefrost, passing through his shield and the explosion of what I took to be his Kinetic Pulse. Magneblade re-corporealized on the other side of Snowfang, his blazing axe exploding into the unguarded side of the Buffalo Axe. The upward-swinging axe of Snowfang diverted from its course, and a snap of CUT deflected it from me.

  As the kinetic light of our blades erupted in sparks from the contact, Enki exploded into another unknowable line of song.

  “Keep on dancing! Keep o-”

  “NO!” I roared it in my mind and out loud. Enki stopped.

  Its voice was petulant, pleading. “But—”

  “No!”

  The recoil from my sword meeting Snowfang’s axe was enough for me to push myself away, point my feet at the ground. My legs disappeared into the deep snow as I landed.

  Enki’s voice was pouting. “But I practiced!”

  You’ll get me fucking killed! I thought without speaking.

  “Muh muh muh muh,” it mocked, but refrained from song.

  Chowwick’s pulse exploded. I hadn’t seen him use the skill before. The pulse from his shield was like a bomb detonating, a replica of the explosion that had erupted at nothing from Bonefrost’s shield. The three Buffalo Griidlords and Magneblade were tossed like rags. I saw Magneblade’s axe hacking furiously as the four bodies tangled and disappeared into the snow.

  I pounced. Chowwick pounced.

  Jythorne rose quickly. I caught him as he rose, my CUT scoring the chest of his suit. He flailed back, flames and smoke pouring from the wound. Chowwick’s shield smashed down onto Bonefrost’s head as he rose, the clang ringing in the deathly silence of the snowstorm.

  Jythorne came at me again, sluggish, wounded. We had the advantage. Chowwick battered at Bonefrost. Magneblade rose, joining him, his axe like a captive sun, hammering at the disoriented opponent.

  We were going to do it! We had them. Snowfang had yet to rise; he might have been disabled. These two were flailing under our assault.

  Of course, it wasn’t so easy.

  Snowfang appeared from the white depths. He rose like a legendary monster, sinister and focused. He was 12 feet or so from our desperately fighting forms. From the corner of my eye, I saw him calmly raise his axe, like a wand and not a weapon, and point it at Magneblade. A bubble of light shot from the tip of the haft, like an arrow. It flitted across the short space between them, and Magneblade was gone. Just gone.

  I staggered in fright. Jythorne saw the opening, found his footing, and turned our duel in the other direction, pushing me back. Bonefrost, freed from fighting two opponents, suddenly smashed back against Chowwick’s barrage of blows. Bonefrost was hurt, but he had the level advantage, and Chowwick was suddenly locked against him, their shields straining.

  Where the fuck is Magneblade? Is he dead?

  Enki replied, “Naw, kiddo, Stasis Beam isn’t that cool. It’s pretty cool, but not that good. Look closer.”

  I scrambled to repel Jythorne’s reckless assault. The Sword was wounded and weakening; he knew he had to make his opening count. Still, I let Enki distract me and glanced back to the point where Magneblade had disappeared.

  He wasn’t gone. Where he had stood now floated a spherical distortion in the air. Snowflakes brushing the static aura froze on its surface, their motion halted.

  Enki said, “He’s not dead. He’s frozen in a field of intense Order. It will fade. But he won’t be back in this fight. I guess it’s two against three now!”