Fifteen minutes.

  The moment the last grain of sand slipped through the hourglass, Kael felt the tension shift in the air. The golden light that had surrounded his square dissipated like smoke, leaving behind the cold emptiness of the void. The wall separating his square from his opponent’s dissolved into nothingness, leaving the battlefield wide open. The trial had begun, the fight to the death commenced.

  He had 24 hours. That much he knew. Enough time to play the long game, to wait for the right moment, and most importantly, to stay cautious.

  The forest that bordered his square, the one he had come to know so well, was now a battleground. He knew it better than any other place, and he trusted it to hide him while he planned his next move. His wisps were stationed at the borders, ready to alert him to anything or anyone that dared to cross into his territory. They were his eyes and ears.

  Kael had no idea who his opponent was or what kind of power they wielded, and that made them even more dangerous. He needed to wait. The first move was always the most important.

  Minutes passed in eerie silence, the only sound the occasional whisper of wind through the trees. Kael’s mind focused, keeping sharp on his surroundings, aware of every shift in the air.

  And then, just five minutes after the wall came down, Kael's wisps flickered into his awareness, their movements sharp and fast. One of them had detected something.

  A creature, flying.

  It was coming closer, faster than he would have expected for any simple creature, though certainly slower than his wisps.

  Kael's heart quickened as the creature came into view. It flew into his square, the shape dark.

  It was a grotesque thing. A massive, winged eyeball, its leathery wings beating steadily as it hovered in the air. The creature's body was little more than the enormous, unblinking orb at its core. The giant eye stared vacantly ahead, its pupil dilating as it scanned Kael’s square, searching for movement.

  Kael instinctively stepped back deeper into the shadows, his pulse quickening. If the Master controlling this creature could see through it, just as Kael saw through his wisps, this could be a serious problem.

  It was a scout.

  This Master, Kael thought, feeling the chill of recognition creeping into his thoughts, is already several steps ahead. This was an intelligent opponent, one who had the foresight to send a creature to do the work of gathering information before the real fight began. This was a calculated move.

  Skrindle, having appeared alongside Kael in a sudden burst of smoke, squinted at the creature, his expression filled with a strange, twisted appreciation. "Oculothrax," he said.

  The oculothrax’s presence was a clear message: this was no reckless Master charging into battle. This was someone who had planned, who had considered the first move carefully, who had decided to gather intel before committing. This was someone who understood the value of patience in the game they were playing.

  The oculothrax floated higher and higher, circling with a deliberate pace, searching for the slightest movement, the faintest hint of Kael’s presence. The leathery wings flapped silently as it flew from one end of the square to the other, its unblinking gaze sweeping over the terrain below.

  Kael’s eyes narrowed as he considered his options. The creature’s too high for Mush, he thought. The ice slimes were formidable in close range, their icicles sharp and deadly, but the oculothrax was out of their reach. His crossbow, a weapon he had once relied on, lay empty with no bolts to fire. Kael’s heart sank slightly at the thought. No ranged options.

  His only remaining tools were his Ice Sickle, the Blacksmithing Hammer, and the Slime Cape—none of which were ideal for dealing with something that flew so high above him.

  And now, it begins.

  A fog began to curl at the edge of the forest, slowly creeping across the ground like a veil of mist. It was a tactical move, something designed to obscure the vision of the oculothrax. Kael held his breath, watching, waiting for something to happen.

  The oculothrax, ever the vigilant scout, turned its massive eye toward the fog, drawn by the disturbance. It hesitated, its wings flapping slowly as it descended, approaching the shifting mist cautiously.

  Streaks of silver flashed through the fog. A flurry of sharp, gleaming daggers were hurled with lethal precision, cutting through the mist. They pierced the air with a high-pitched whistle, and with a sickening squelch, the daggers found their mark, embedding deep into the oculothrax's exposed eye.

  The creature made no sound as it twisted and writhed in the air, its leathery wings flailing as it fell to the ground in a heap. Its massive eye, now pierced and blinded, stared to the sky, lifeless.

  “Good job, Three Arms,” Kael muttered under his breath, his eyes already shifting to the golem standing just at the edge of the forest.

  Three Arms remained hidden in the forest, the Dagger of Fog in his hands, his body lined with daggers, a deadly bandolier across his chest.

  The first blow had been struck, but Kael knew the game was far from over. Kael waited and watched for the next attempt from his opposing Master.

  It did not take long before his wisps flickered again with intensity. Kael's eyes immediately sharpened. His wisps had detected something new. Another presence.

  A humanoid figure, moving swiftly through the forest, cutting a path to the center of the square. It was unlike anything Kael had encountered thus far. A reptilian being, tall and slim, walking on two legs with smooth, red scales that glimmered in the faint light of the square. The creature carried a sword, long and twisted, shaped like a spine, jagged and menacing.

  Another scout, Kael thought, the word coming to him almost instinctively.

  "That," Skrindle said, "is a Skara. A lesser demon."

  Lesser, yes, but still a demon. Still dangerous.

  “They're fast, and they know how to fight. Not as powerful as the greater demons, but they're a force to be reckoned with, especially in numbers."

  Luckily, this one wasn’t in great numbers. It stayed the course alone, its destination clearly Kael’s shelter.

  “Both the oculothrax and the Skara are lesser demons. Your enemy is someone who has a preference for demons. A Master who’s aligned themselves with these creatures. Just like you with slimes," Skrindle continued.

  Kael nodded, the weight of Skrindle’s words sinking into his mind. A Master with a preference for demons, Kael thought.

  Demons were powerful, unpredictable. Kael had heard of demons and their strength before, though he could not place exactly where immediately. Regardless, that could wait. He had to deal with the enemy at hand.

  Kael stood hidden among the trees, his eyes locked on the Skara’s every movement. His mind raced with the next step in his plan, analyzing each second, weighing every decision. His slimes, his golems, all of them were hidden, waiting for the right moment. And then, above the Skara, a dark shape flickered, something small and almost imperceptible.

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  A second oculothrax.

  It hovered in the air, circling high above the Skara, its giant eye observing the area. The oculothrax was watching for any signs of traps, ambushes, attacks from behind, its unblinking eye scanning for danger. The enemy was thorough, making sure they didn’t walk into a trap unprepared.

  This Master is a dangerous foe, Kael thought, his chest tightening. They were playing the game and losing would mean death. But I can outsmart them.

  "Wait," Kael murmured under his breath, his voice low but firm. "Stay in position. Don’t move until I say so."

  His slimes, his golems, every part of his square was positioned exactly where it needed to be. His companions steadied themselves, waiting for their Master’s order.

  The Skara, still unaware of the danger that lay hidden in the shadows, stepped closer to the opening of Kael’s shelter.

  The moment it entered, the trap was set.

  The shelter collapsed with a deafening roar, its structure folding in on itself as it crumpled under the weight of the concealed trap. The Skara had barely enough time to react before the shelter caved in, sending shards of wood and earth tumbling down around it. Kael watched as the creature was crushed under the weight of the collapsing shelter. Its weapon, the spined blade, was thrown from its hand, clattering uselessly to the side.

  "I was hoping that would have killed more," Kael said. "But I’ll take what I can get."

  He straightened, taking a deep breath. The Skara was down, but there was still more to come. He wasn’t foolish enough to think that one kill would end the battle. The enemy would be back with more.

  “Three Arms, now.”

  A fog emerged.

  It rolled from the trees, swelling and spreading through the air onto the clearing. As sudden as it appeared, the fog chased after the oculothrax that floated in the air above the fallen Skara.

  The eye of the oculothrax flickered in alarm as it saw the fog closing in on it. It hovered in place for a moment, unsure, its great eye shifting from side to side as if searching for an escape. The creature beat its wings faster, retreating back toward the safety of its square.

  Kael smiled grimly. He had anticipated this. The fog was more than just a distraction—it was a weapon. And it had done its job.

  The oculothrax had retreated, its wings flapping rapidly as it fled back toward the edge of the square. It wasn’t a fight it wanted to have, not when it had no idea what the fog was capable of.

  That was two probing attacks from the Master. Kael would see to it that the next strike was his.

  A small slime slid cautiously into the enemy’s square, its gelatinous body leaving barely a trace as it wobbled across the barren land. The square was nothing like Kael’s, though it should have been. Where his square had an edge of life and growth, this one was starkly empty. The forest was gone, the trees hacked down to stumps. The stumps offered no shelter, no place to hide or lie in wait.

  In the center of the square stood a small hut, built from rough-hewn wood. It looked almost like a quaint cottage, a deceptive little structure in a landscape that otherwise felt cold and hostile. The slime hopped forward, its eyes flicking nervously to the door of the hut.

  Kael watched from the shadows of his own square. The slime was his eyes, his first scout in this uncharted terrain. The slime inched closer to the hut but then, the door of the hut creaked open. A figure emerged, a Skara, its red scales gleaming in the eerie light. The demon held a spined sword in its hand, its expression angry.

  Another Skara.

  Kael could sense that the first Skara hadn’t noticed the slime, but that wouldn’t last long. It’s too dangerous, Kael thought. I can’t risk losing my scout.

  "Retreat," Kael whispered, his voice a low command carried through the bond. "Get back to the trees. Now."

  The slime reacted immediately, its small body gliding across the barren ground, slinking back toward the trees with a speed that belied its size. It moved as quickly as it could, blending with the shadows of Kael’s square, disappearing from the Skara’s view.

  But the Skara’s eye was sharp. It looked toward the retreating slime, its gaze following the trail it left behind. Then, without hesitation, another Skara appeared from the hut. The second demon stepped out, its blade raised as if it had been waiting for the first to act.

  Two Skara.

  Dangerous in great numbers, Kael remembered Skrindle’s warning. He was not outnumbered yet, but he had no intention of giving them more room to expand.

  "Three Arms," Kael said. "Activate the Dagger of Fog."

  His golem, positioned far on the border of the two squares, was ready. Three Arms sprang into action, his agile body moving with surprising speed. He held the Dagger of Fog and the blade shimmered as the magic surged. The fog began to rise, slowly at first.. But Kael didn’t stop there.

  "Move around the right side of our border," Kael commanded. "Spread the fog. Make it look like a large force. Make them believe we’re coming from all angles."

  Three Arms leapt from tree to tree, swung from branch to branch. What began as a small puff of fog grew quickly into a dense cloud, thick enough to obscure vision in a small area. But Three Arms was quick, and with each jump and swing, the fog spread wider and wider, rolling out across the forest like an ocean of mist.

  Kael hoped the illusion would be enough. The light fog would give the impression of a large force moving in. The Master may be confused, distracted by the mist, uncertain of where Kael’s strength truly lay.

  But the fog was not Kael’s only play.

  As the Skara’s focus shifted to the swirling mass of mist, Kael sent his slimes forward. He called upon Mush and the ice slimes, their bodies sliding stealthily along the edges of the forest. They were to give the Skara a wide berth, slipping around the outer edges of the square, avoiding detection while they closed in.

  Their job was not to fight, not yet. Their job was to sneak behind enemy lines and scout the wooden hut. They were to get closer, to find out if the other Master had laid more traps, more surprises.

  The two Skara headed towards the fog, any nearer and they could see through Kael’s plot. He knew he had to reveal his hand. Part of it.

  A shadow formed through the fog and Gerry emerged from its swirling depth, his metal frame cutting through like the shadow made solid. In each hand, he gripped a sword, both Kael’s creations.

  The oculothrax turned in the air, its bulbous eye focused on Gerry. Kael could tell its Master was curious, seeing the golem walk into their domain.

  The two Skara, snapped their heads toward the sound of Gerry's approach. They had seen the movement, the faint shift of shadows in the mist, and their eyes narrowed. Both demons straightened, their red scales flashing, their weapons drawn.

  Gerry was strong, no question about it. But the Skara were no ordinary foes. Lesser demons, yes, but underestimating them would be a mistake.

  But Gerry, unaffected by the tension, continued to walk forward, as steady as ever, his gait unhurried. The first Skara rushed forward with a battle cry, its spined sword raised high. The creature was fast, but Gerry was faster.

  The Skara swung its weapon with the full weight of its body behind the strike, aiming to cleave through the golem’s defense. But Gerry ducked low, slipping under the swing.

  In a single, fluid motion, Gerry retaliated. His first sword flashed in the air, stabbing upward into the Skara’s exposed side. The steel cut through its scales with deadly precision. The demon howled in pain, but before it could react, Gerry’s second blade was already plunging into the heart, deep into its chest.

  The Skara’s body collapsed forward, its life extinguished in the span of a second. Gerry twisted his blades free, the force slicing through the demon’s body, leaving three clean pieces of Skara to fall to the ground. He stood tall, unfazed, his eyes already locked onto the second Skara.

  But the second Skara wasn’t foolish. It had seen the fate of its companion, and it wasn’t going to make the same mistake. With a snarl, it raised its spined sword, eyeing Gerry warily, calculating its next move.

  But it was too late. Gerry moved again, the swords firmly in his hands. It was as though Gerry was forged to fight, rather than to just weapon load.

  The second Skara blocked one of the incoming blades, its spined sword clashing against Gerry’s with a deafening clang. But the demon’s defense faltered just a second too late. Gerry’s second sword swung across its body in a wide arc, cleaving through its side with terrifying ease.

  The Skara's blood splattered across the clearing as it fell, its body sliced clean in half. Its upper half rolled to the ground, its weapon clattering beside it. The demon’s body twitched once, then stilled, lifeless.

  This was too easy, he thought, his mind racing. The Skara were no pushovers. Yet Gerry had cut them down as though they were little more than training dummies.

  Gerry has faced worse, Kael realized with a sudden clarity. In Highhaven, he fought against the fae—creatures of cunning, of magic, of far greater skill. These lesser demons are little more than prey to him.

  Gerry stood across the hut’s wooden door, his swords were at the ready, gripped in each of his hands, the blood of the fallen Skara still fresh on their blades. His eyes were fixed firmly on the door of the little hut, the only sign of life in the otherwise barren square.

  While the Skara had been a quick victory, Kael knew this fight was far from over. The Master behind the demons was far more dangerous, far more cunning.

  But Kael was ready.

  ******