The Wall of Flesh rises before me. Not demon born or corruption spawned, just flesh crafted through ritual, nothing more, nothing less.

  It is enemy.

  I stand before it in skeleton form returned.

  The surface ripples with faces, hundreds of them, mouths working pleading silently beneath stretched skin as limbs protrude, fingers grasping at air, trying to escape before being reabsorbed into the mass.

  It is similar to other horrors.

  The entire structure towers fifteen feet high, stretching thirty feet across, blocking all escape from the settlement.

  Aeternus pulses, a warning that goes through bone and spectral flesh.

  The Arkashoth utters a warning, only that this living wall is meant to seal, to contain.

  To trap.

  My Legion regroups around me, bone warriors forming ranks.

  Their weapons raise, steel blessed by ancient purpose. The two-headed champion steps forward, both skulls tilting in question.

  I raise Aeternus in answer. We attack.

  The Legion charges, bone feet slamming against packed earth. I launch forward, wolf joints propelling me ahead of my warriors.

  Dragon plates slide into offensive configuration, protecting lesser fragments as I close distance.

  The Wall pulses. A dozen mouths open simultaneously, vomiting streams of acidic fluid. The liquid arcs through air, sizzling where it lands.

  Three Legion warriors dissolve on contact, bones melting into slag.

  They will not be recovered.

  I twist mid-leap, avoiding the main spray. Droplets catch my left shoulder, eating through spectral tissue to the dragon plate beneath. The corrosion registers, distant but noted.

  The Wall responds, its surface rippling as it pushes forward.

  Not walking, but flowing, consuming ground beneath it. The meeting hall splinters as the mass crashes through, incorporating debris into its bulk.

  I land fifteen feet from its base, claws digging deep into soil.

  Aeternus hungers, demanding action. Demanding movement.

  The Wall's surface ripples again. This time, I see them, blood sigils pulsing beneath transparent layers of skin. The Flesh Carved markings, seven of them, spaced across the abomination's bulk.

  Each glows with yellow light, matching the staff-bearer's gem.

  My warriors strike first, bone weapons slamming into the Wall's lower regions. Blades sink deep, finding little resistance. The Wall seems to welcome them, flesh parting then sealing around steel. More warriors disappear completely, pulled into the mass.

  I signal retreat. The Legion withdraws, forming a wider circle. This is no battle for direct assault.

  The Arkashoth fragments guide me. The sigils bind it. Break them.

  I study the nearest mark, a spiral pattern etched in dried blood, surrounded by smaller symbols. It pulses in time with the Wall's movements.

  A plan forms.

  I signal to the dual-headed champion, directing it to different positions. The three-armed warriors spread wider, creating a distraction.

  The Wall surges forward again. This time, limbs extrude from its mass, dozens of arms ending in mismatched hands. They reach for my warriors, grasping, tearing.

  I circle left, moving faster than the Wall can track. Wolf joints and dragon plates work together, carrying me in a blur of bone and purpose. I skirt the edge of the abomination, seeking an opening.

  The first sigil glows brighter as I approach.

  The flesh around it thickens, forming a protective layer.

  It knows.

  I feint right, then dive left. Aeternus leads, cutting a path through outer flesh. The blade parts false-muscle and congealed blood.

  I drive deeper, pushing through layers of resistance.

  The Wall shudders. A mouth forms directly above me, stretching wide. Teeth materialize from fused bone fragments, descending toward my skull.

  I roll sideways, narrowly avoiding being crushed. My shoulder slams into a partially absorbed wagon, wood splintering under impact. The Wall flows over the debris, consuming it and nearly catching my leg.

  I pull back.

  The Legion attacks from multiple angles, drawing the Wall's attention. It responds with violence, lashing out with newly formed appendages. Warriors scatter, some too slow. Bones crunch as massive fists slam into rusted armor.

  I push to my feet, reassessing.

  Direct approach won't work. The sigils remain protected, shifting position whenever threatened.

  I need elevation.

  A half-collapsed watchtower stands nearby, its structure mostly intact. I sprint toward it, Aeternus tight against my side.

  The Wall senses my movement, sending a wave of flesh to intercept.

  I leap, claws finding purchase on weathered stone. Higher and higher I climb, staying just ahead of grasping hands and forming mouths.

  The tower groans under sudden stress, timbers creaking.

  From this height, I see the pattern. The seven sigils form a mark across the Wall's bulk, each positioned to reinforce the others.

  Breaking one might weaken the structure, but the Wall would simply regenerate.

  I need to break them in sequence.

  The Arkashoth fragment agrees. Outer spiral first, then inward.

  I judge the distance to the nearest sigil, now visible near the Wall's upper edge. Twenty feet of empty air separates us, with writhing flesh below.

  There is no hesitation.

  My legs bunch beneath me. Dragon plates lock into place. I launch from the tower's edge, Aeternus extended before me.

  Time slows in mid-leap. The Wall's surface shifts, faces appearing and disappearing.

  The sigil pulses faster as I approach, its yellow light intensifying.

  I slam into the Wall at full force, Aeternus driving deep. The blade finds the sigil's center, piercing through layers of compacted flesh.

  Blood erupts around the entry point, not red but black and thick.

  The Wall screams. Not with one voice but hundreds.

  The sigil flares blindingly bright, then shatters, its pattern disintegrating.

  I hang suspended, embedded in living tissue that quickly turns hostile. The flesh around me contracts, attempting to crush my frame. Bones creak under pressure. I pull Aeternus free and slash wildly, creating space to maneuver as the flesh around the broken sigil retreats.

  The Wall's reaction is immediate and violent.

  Spines erupt from its surface, foot-long barbs of fused bone that tear through anything nearby. I twist away, feeling several pierce my spectral flesh, scraping against dragon plates beneath.

  I drop toward the ground, controlling my fall. The Legion continues its assault below, keeping the Wall distracted.

  I land hard, bones jarring from impact.

  One down. Six remain.

  The Wall moves faster now, its movements more erratic. Portions bulge and collapse randomly, faces appearing and dissolving in seconds. It has lost some cohesion, but gained unpredictability.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  I spot the second sigil near ground level, partially hidden by a fold of flesh. This one forms a different pattern, circles surrounding a central eye.

  I signal to the nearest three-armed warrior. It responds immediately, charging the Wall, all three weapons striking simultaneously. The distraction works. The flesh ripples away to meet the attack, momentarily exposing the sigil.

  I don't waste the opening.

  Aeternus goes forward, blade singing.

  The sigil resists, its magic pushing back against Aeternus's edge. For a heartbeat, they war against each other, flesh crafted blood magic versus death's purpose.

  Aeternus wins.

  The sigil cracks, lines spreading outward from the blade's point. The pattern fragments, its power dissipating in a burst of yellow light.

  The Wall convulses. Its entire structure ripples violently, portions collapsing inward while others expand explosively. Several more Legion warriors vanish into suddenly forming pits in its surface.

  I roll clear as a wave of flesh crashes down. The ground trembles under the Wall's rage. Its movements grow more desperate, less controlled.

  Two down.

  The next sigil shifts position, retreating higher up the Wall's bulk. This one pulses faster than the others, its light fluctuating between yellow and sickly green.

  The dual-headed champion crashes into the Wall's side, both skulls tearing into flesh. The diversion allows me to circle behind.

  I leap onto a partially absorbed cart, using it as a springboard. My claws find purchase on the Wall's uneven surface. I climb rapidly, dragon plates scraping against half-formed bones and gristly protrusions.

  The sigil looms above, its pattern more complex than the previous two. This one resembles a hand with too many fingers, each digit ending in smaller symbols.

  I reach for it, extending Aeternus toward the center of the pattern.

  The Wall reacts. The flesh around the sigil suddenly hardens, forming a shell of fused bone and cartilage.

  Simultaneously, the area beneath me softens.

  I sink rapidly, the material closing around my legs. Hardening, trapping me tight.

  Then comes innovation. I transform my free arm, wolf bones extending and reshaping into a longer, more serpentine limb.

  Dragon plates slide apart, allowing greater flexibility.

  My reach extends just enough. Claws scrape against the hardened shell, finding a thin seam. I drive them in, prying apart the protective layer.

  The sigil pulses frantically, sensing danger. I push harder, feeling bones strain under pressure.

  The shell cracks.

  Aeternus darts forward, sliding through the opening. The blade touches the sigil's center.

  Light explodes outward. The sigil shatters, its pattern dissolving into the surrounding flesh. The Wall's reaction is immediate. The area around me convulses violently, ejecting me from its mass.

  I fly backward, tumbling through air. My frame collides with a partially standing wall, stone crumbling under impact.

  Three down.

  I push to my feet, assessing damage. Divine fragments remain intact, but several wolf bones have cracked, limiting mobility in my right side.

  Some bones hang loose where connections have severed. I force realignment, bones grinding as they resettle.

  The Wall has changed. Its lower third now sags, flesh drooping toward the ground in thick folds.

  The upper portions remain active, frenzied, almost panicked. Faces form and dissolve faster.

  The remaining sigils pulse erratically, their patterns shifting as if attempting to compensate for the broken three.

  The Legion continues its assault, bone warriors hacking at the sagging portions. Their weapons find greater purchase now, actually removing chunks that don't immediately regenerate.

  I locate the fourth sigil near the Wall's center. This one resembles a coiled serpent devouring its own tail. Unlike the others, it remains stationary.

  Direct approach won't work.

  The Wall concentrates its defenses around this sigil, layers of hardened tissue forming concentric rings of protection.

  I need a different strategy.

  My gaze falls on the staff-bearer's abandoned weapon, the caged gem still intact. The Arkashoth fragment guides me still.

  The gem controls. The gem disrupts.

  I signal to the nearest warrior. It retrieves the staff, bringing it to me.

  The gem pulses weakly, its light dimmed without its master's touch.

  I take the staff, feeling ancient magic resonate through spectral flesh. The gem responds, its glow intensifying slightly.

  The Wall notices. Its attention shifts, countless faces turning toward the staff with expressions of hate and fear.

  I raise the staff, directing its gem toward the fourth sigil. The two magics recognize each other, creator and creation, master and servant.

  The gem flares brighter, its yellow light spreading outward in a concentrated beam.

  The beam strikes the sigil's protective layers. For a moment, nothing happens. Then the hardened tissue begins to soften, outer layers melting away like fat under flame.

  The Wall shudders, attempting to regenerate its defenses. But the gem's light prevents reformation, keeping the tissue in a malleable state.

  I charge forward, Aeternus ready. The Legion follows, creating a wedge formation that drives into the Wall's weakened center.

  We push through layers of resistance, weapons carving a path toward the exposed sigil. The Wall fights back, forming internal barricades of hardened bone and cartilage that we cut through and hack away.

  I reach the sigil first, the staff in one hand, Aeternus in the other.

  I strike. Aeternus plunges into the sigil's exposed heart. The blade sinks deep, meeting fierce resistance.

  This sigil doesn't shatter like the others.

  Instead, it unravels, the serpent pattern unwinding completely before fading from existence.

  The Wall's reaction is catastrophic.

  Its entire middle section collapses, massive folds of flesh slumping toward the ground. The upper portion remains suspended, now disconnected from the lower half.

  Four down.

  The remaining three sigils pulse frantically, their patterns shifting with increased speed. They no longer maintain fixed positions, instead darting across the Wall's surface like frightened fish.

  The Legion regroups, forming a wide circle around the collapsing abomination. Warriors stand ready, bone weapons raised against further attack.

  I study the Wall's new configuration. Its mass has decreased by nearly half, flesh sloughing away in great sheets. The faces appear less frequently now, their features distorted by panic.

  The fifth sigil appears momentarily near what was once the Wall's right edge. This one forms a starburst pattern, eight points radiating from a central core.

  It vanishes before I can approach, reappearing seconds later on the opposite side. The sigil moves too quickly for direct pursuit.

  I need to predict its path.

  The Arkashoth fragment pulses with insight. The sigils follow a pattern, their movements not random but calculated.

  I watch, tracking the fifth sigil's appearances. Left edge, upper right, center, lower left, upper center. A pentagram pattern. The sigil will appear next at the lower right.

  I move into position, Aeternus ready. The staff's gem pulses in my other hand, sensing proximity to its creation.

  The sigil appears exactly where predicted, flaring with yellow light. I strike without hesitation, driving through the weakened flesh.

  The blade connects with the sigil's center. Light erupts, blinding in its intensity. The pattern shatters, its eight points breaking apart simultaneously.

  The Wall convulses. Its right side collapses completely, flesh slumping to the ground in lifeless heaps. What remains tilts precariously, barely maintaining structural integrity.

  Five down.

  The sixth sigil appears near the top of the remaining structure. This one forms a complex knot pattern, lines weaving through each other in impossible configurations.

  The Wall gathers its remaining strength, concentrating defenses around this critical sigil. Flesh hardens into a shell of bone and cartilage, layers forming faster than before.

  I signal to the Legion. Warriors move into position, surrounding the Wall's base. At my command, they attack simultaneously, bone weapons striking from all sides.

  The Wall diverts resources to counter this assault, temporarily weakening defenses around the sigil.

  I leap upward, dragon plates locking into place for maximum thrust. My jump carries me to the Wall's upper edge, claws finding purchase on uneven surface.

  The sigil pulses frantically as I approach. Its knot pattern tightens, lines drawing closer together in defensive formation.

  I raise the staff, directing the gem's light toward the sigil. The knot pattern resists, its lines holding firm against the gem's influence.

  Time for a different approach. I drive Aeternus into the flesh beside the sigil, not striking the pattern directly. The blade cuts deep, creating a gap in the protective shell.

  I drop the staff, freeing my other hand. Claws extend, dragon and wolf bones working in concert to widen the opening.

  The sigil shifts position, trying to escape. But its movement remains constrained by the Wall's deteriorating structure.

  I reach through the gap, spectral flesh stretching to bridge the distance. My claws touch the sigil's edge, feeling its magic pulse against borrowed fragments.

  The knot pattern reacts violently, lines lashing out like whips.

  They pass through me harmlessly. I push deeper. Claws close around the sigil's center, gripping the knot pattern's core.

  And pull.

  The sigil resists, its magic fighting my strength. For a moment, we remain locked in contest, neither yielding.

  Then something gives. The knot pattern unravels, lines separating as I tear the sigil from its mooring.

  Light explodes outward. The sigil disintegrates in my grasp, its power dissipating in waves of yellow energy.

  The Wall shrieks, a sound beyond physical limitations. Its remaining structure trembles, great sheets of flesh sloughing away like melting wax.

  Six down.

  One remains.

  The final sigil appears at the Wall's crown, pulsing with frantic energy. This one forms a simple circle, unadorned and primal. Despite its simplicity, it radiates more power than all previous sigils combined.

  The Wall's remaining mass contracts around this last anchor, forming a protective cocoon of hardened tissue. What was once a thirty-foot wall has collapsed into a roughly spherical mass no larger than a wagon.

  But more dangerous for its concentration.

  The Legion surrounds this final form, bone weapons raised. They await my command, ancient warriors ready to end this abomination.

  I retrieve the staff, feeling the gem's power nearly exhausted. One final use remains before its magic depletes completely.

  The spherical mass pulses, its surface rippling with desperate energy. Faces form and dissolve in rapid succession, hundreds of them flowing across the contracted flesh.

  I approach cautiously, Aeternus in one hand, the staff in the other. The sphere reacts to my proximity, surface hardening into spikes of bone and cartilage.

  No direct path remains to the final sigil. The sphere has concentrated all defenses around this last anchor, creating impenetrable layers of protection.

  I signal to the Legion. Warriors move into position, forming a complete circle around the sphere. At my command, they attack simultaneously, bone weapons striking from all directions.

  The sphere responds, extending spikes toward each attacker. Its defenses stretch thin, trying to counter threats from every angle.

  I wait for the perfect moment, when defenses redistribute to maximum extension.

  There.

  I slam the staff into the ground, gem first. The caged crystal shatters on impact, releasing its remaining energy in a blinding flash.

  Yellow light washes over the sphere, momentarily neutralizing its outer defenses. The hardened tissue softens, spikes retracting involuntarily.

  I don't hesitate.

  Aeternus leads as I drive forward, the blade cutting through weakened flesh with minimal resistance.

  I plunge into the sphere's interior. A cavity of pulsing organs and twisted bone structures.

  At its center floats the final sigil, its circular pattern rotating slowly. Unlike the others, this one appears three-dimensional.

  Aeternus reaches for it, death's purpose meeting ancient blood magic.

  The sigil resists, its magic flaring in desperate defense. The circular pattern spins faster, generating waves of repulsive force.

  I push harder, feeling bones strain under pressure.

  Aeternus touches the sigil's edge.

  Light erupts, not yellow but blinding white. The circular pattern freezes, then cracks along its circumference.

  The Wall of Flesh gives one final shudder.

  Its remaining structure collapses inward, flesh losing cohesion as the last binding sigil shatters.

  I push outward, dragon plates expanding to create space. The collapsing mass offers no resistance, its animation gone, its purpose ended.

  I emerge from dissolving flesh, Aeternus still clutched in one hand. Around me, the Wall disintegrates, returning to component parts. Organs, bones, and blood no longer bound by unnatural magic.

  The Legion stands victorious, bone warriors watching as the abomination fades from existence. Their hollow sockets hold no emotion, yet satisfaction radiates from ancient frames.

  Seven sigils broken. The Wall undone.

  We prevail.