Wade's breath came shallow and ragged.

Brody's body lay in two uneven halves just a few steps away, the blood still steaming in the cold wind.

His eyes, still open, stared vacantly towards the battlefield as if watching the clouds roll past.

Wade's mind refused to move past it. He'd seen death before, plenty of it, but never this sudden. Never someone he personally knew.

His chest tightened painfully. His hands trembled around Toothpick, the knuckles bloodless.

Something cracked inside him.

Then...

"Get down!"

A voice, loud and panicked, cut through his fog.

Wade's head snapped up just in time to see a shadow streaking down from the clouds. The patriarch buzzard again, talons wreathed in lightning.

The air sizzled as it descended.

He dove aside.

The buzzard's talons tore through the ground where he'd stood, raking a trench through the dirt.

The resulting shockwave threw Wade backward, heat and static burning across his skin.

He rolled, his body screaming in protest, and rose to his feet, swinging his axe up just as the bird swooped low again.

"Come on!" he roared. "You want another?!"

Lightning burst from the buzzard's beak, striking the ground beside him. Wade leapt sideways, the blast searing the dirt into glass.

He teleported forward, appearing just beneath the creature as it ascended again.

He hurled Toothpick upwards with all his strength, the weapon spinning end over end before crashing into the bird's underside.

The hit staggered it as it flew, a shriek of pain echoing from its throat.

Wade teleported again, appearing on a nearby rock outcropping just in time to recall his axe to his hand.

The buzzard was circling. It was wounded but enraged.

"Good," Wade muttered, gripping the handle tighter.

The next dive came faster, the air crackling blue with electricity.

Wade jumped aside as it passed, the gust nearly blowing him off his feet.

He swung as it swooped past again, striking one wing with the hammer side. Bone cracked, and a few feathers sparked loose.

But the beast was cunning. It twisted in the air, using the momentum of its turn to lash at him with its tail.

The impact sent him sprawling across the dirt, his vision flickering for a moment.

When he looked up, the buzzard was climbing again, gathering storm clouds around it.

"Not this time…" Wade hissed through clenched teeth.

He thrust his free hand upward.

Bone Spike.

White shards of bone shot skyward like spears, cutting through the air towards the rising bird.

A few missed, but several hit, piercing its wing membrane. The creature screeched, its flight pattern wobbling.

"Got you."

He charged mana into Fireburst, the air shimmering with heat around his arms. He swung Toothpick, sending the explosive blast in a crescent arc through the air.

The attack connected.

The explosion tore through the sky, engulfing the buzzard in flame. It twisted and flailed, crashing downwards in a spiral of feathers and smoke.

When it hit the ground, it tried to rise again, but Wade was already there. He slammed his boot onto its chest and brought Toothpick down on its skull.

Once. Twice.

On the third strike, the skull shattered.

The bird died, smoke curling from its body as its lightning flickered out.

Wade stood over it, panting, his arm bleeding from where the tail had clipped him. He stared at the corpse for a long second, his chest heaving, before whispering quietly...

"For Brody."

There was no time to mourn. The battlefield didn't stop for grief.

A growl snapped his attention sideways.

Two twin-jawed wolves were bounding towards him, their claws digging deep into the dirt as they ran. One came from his right, the other from behind.

He raised Toothpick, turning in time to meet the first one's leap. The hammer struck its lower jaw, shattering half its face.

The second lunged from behind. He teleported forward, reappearing behind it and cleaving upwards with the axe head.

The blow tore into its stomach, spilling dark blood and steaming entrails. The creature howled, whipping around with unnatural fury.

Wade spun with it, parrying one of its snapping jaws before slamming the axe sideways into its ribs. The impact cracked bone, but the beast still didn't fall.

"Persistent bastard," he muttered, ducking as it tried to bite again.

He brought his knee up hard under its chin, then smashed the hammer side down into its skull. The wolf fell, dead.

The first wolf, still half-blind from his earlier strike, lunged one last time. Wade side-stepped and swung backwards blindly, Fireburst igniting as he swung.

The explosion blasted apart the wolf's head, leaving its twitching body to collapse beside its fallen kin.

Wade swayed slightly, fatigue crawling into his limbs. Around him, the tide of battle had shifted again.

A horn sounded somewhere in the distance.

"FOURTH WAVE!"

The command rolled through the ranks.

Wade exhaled shakily, turning to run.

The line of fighters began falling back towards the ridge, the next wave taking over the fighting.

By the time he reached safety, he was barely standing. He dropped to his knees beside a half-collapsed tent, leaning on Toothpick for support.

That was when he heard his name.

"Wade!"

He looked up, eyes widening with relief.

Rowan jogged towards him, armor scuffed but intact. His face was pale and streaked with grime, but his grin was weary and real.

"You're still in one piece," Rowan said, dropping beside him. "Good. I was worried I'd have to fight this war alone."

Wade managed a weak chuckle. "Not a chance."

Then his smile faded. His voice dropped. "Brody's gone."

Rowan's grin vanished instantly. He stared at Wade for a long second, jaw tightening. "I saw the bird hit your flank… I hoped—"

"Yeah." Wade swallowed. "It got him."

Silence stretched between them.

Then a voice called from nearby.

"Barrett. Dyer."

They turned to see Captain Wells walking through the encampment, his armor dented but his posture still straight. His expression was grim.

"You two, on your feet," he said curtly.

They obeyed immediately, following him as he strode past rows of weary fighters. Then he led them to the command tents.

When they entered the largest one, several other adventurers were already there. Faces Wade recognized from the front lines. The air inside the tent was tense.

Captain Wells turned to face them, planting his gauntleted hands on the map-strewn table in front of him.

"Listen up," he began. "As we all know, the horde isn't moving by instinct. There's a Tyrant leading it."

Murmurs spread through the tent.

Wells continued. "That Tyrant's controlling the monsters, keeping them organized. And if we don't take it out soon, this entire flank might fall before dusk."

He straightened, scanning the faces before him.

"That's where you all come in. You're being sent deep into enemy lines. Your mission? Find the Tyrant and wake it."

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