“Hey! I just fixed that,” Gwil said, gagging. He momentarily drew his Nirva away from his skewered stomach and filled his fist. He punched the Warden right in the jaw. The blow landed with a satisfying pop.

  Gwil shoved the Warden in the chest and jumped backward. The man’s clawlike weapon tore from Gwil’s belly, splattering the ground with blood and chunks of viscera.

  He looked down at his dangling guts and the waterfall of blood running down. Gwil fell back, limbs shaky as his Nirva surged to repair his disemboweled-ness.

  The Warden pounced from a low stance. Gwil rolled out of the way and wondered what organ it was that he’d left behind—it resembled a large bean. He didn’t know what the liver looked like, but maybe that.

  Tezca strolled over, scraping his claws against one another. He crouched beside Gwil and sniffed at the air. “It’s been centuries since I got to fight another Hallow,” he said, his voice a low growl. “How did you know about the Oubliette, demon? Who sent you? Who’s the traitor? Where is the Spike?”

  Gwil had his hands folded over his stomach, keeping things from spilling out. His intestines were fusing back together like kissing worms. But something hot chewed at the still-raw skin on his fingers. He lifted his hand and flicked droplets of stomach acid into the Warden’s eyes.

  Tezca chopped off the end of his own nose as his hand reflexively went to his face.

  Gwil somersaulted backward as the Warden roared in pain and drilled his claws into the ground. With his other arm, the man buried his face in the crook of his elbow.

  “Ha, nice fingernails, idiot!” Gwil said. “I thought you might be Hallowed.”

  “What?” Tezca hissed. “I already told you I was.”

  The Warden’s Nirva had staunched the bleeding from his nose, but it had yet to regrow. A red rash blotted around his eyes and tears streaked his cheeks.

  “How did you know about the Oubliette?” Gwil asked.

  “What kind of question is that? I live here! This is my domain. The Oubliette is under my protection.”

  “I thought so,” Gwil said. “Why’d you feed all these people this shit about the end of the World?”

  The Warden stared at Gwil, his mouth hanging open. Various expressions crossed his face, but no words came out.

  “Stop! Gwil, stop!” a voice cried. “Warden Tezca, please, listen!”

  Gwil looked over and saw Challe running ahead of the hundred-odd Malikauan warriors that had not yet escaped to the floor above. Leira and Cort remained beside the jade eagle statue. Gwil was relieved to see that the snaketopus was there, too, alive and well.

  Tezca looked back and forth between Challe and Gwil, eyes narrowed. Gwil put his hands up.

  “Vessel,” Tezca said, changing everything about his demeanor. “Thank the Goddess you are safe.” He moved past her. “My warriors! You have honored the warriors of old and walked the way of the illustrious Jaguar.” He swept his hand across the auditorium. “Look how many demons you’ve slain!”

  Gwil checked on his stomach. A nice, hardy layer of granulation tissue had formed, and things inside felt less leaky, so he was about good to go on that front. Bullshit, though, that Tezca had attacked him like that when he wasn’t ready. Watching the Warden talk all grandiose-like confirmed Gwil’s belief that he was a big asshole.

  “Holy One,” Challe said, kneeling with all four hands splayed on the ground, jadestones glowing with their unnatural light. “These… What if… I believe this man is not a demon, but a human. He has companions—they fought against the red-eyed demons with us. They saved hundreds of lives at great risk to themselves.”

  The Warden dramatically raised his hand and then carefully scratched at his chin with his claws, as if in thought. “Humans, you say, Challe’Jade? Could it be… The most miraculous miracle? An end to our lonely vigil?”

  Tezca clasped his hands together as if in prayer—the claws sticking out haphazardly—and approached Gwil, walking slowly and deferentially, his speckled green robe shimmering. “Where do you hail from?”

  “Uh…” Gwil’s gaze flicked over to Challe, who still knelt. She nodded emphatically.

  Gwil almost believed the Warden’s act, but then he remembered the man had to be lying. Well, he’d play along if that’s what Challe wanted.

  “I come from a legendary island called Eami,” Gwil said, recalling a bedtime story that Caris used to tell him. “We survive in the treetops of the eternal forest that is tall enough to touch the skies. I was sent as a scout to discover if any other human tribes exist.”

  Tezca folded his hands over his heart. “That you can even speak the name ‘Eami’ proves you are no demon.”

  Gwil nodded along and then stopped himself. Damn, this guy’s good.

  “Malikauans! I dare not hope that this is the prophesied miracle. Hope makes fools of us all. But perhaps… perhaps there is a chance. We have already witnessed the First Sacrifice.”

  Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences.

  The feather-clad warriors erupted into cheers and tears of joy.

  Tezca smiled at Gwil and held out his hand, palm up. “I apologize for the misunderstanding. The Apocalypse has made me… prickly.”

  Gwil furrowed his brow, having to awkwardly turn his hand sideways to shake the Warden’s hand without getting his wrist sliced.

  Tezca turned away and Gwil flashed Challe a thumbs up.

  “The demons came and Malikau prevailed!” Tezca said, raising his arms. More cheers answered. “The Goddess has given us yet another great gift, but as your protector, I must wonder, could this be a test? Let us leave this place of triumph and death. Let us mourn those who sacrificed themselves. I must seek further revelation and-”

  Gwil noticed them before Tezca and was already running toward the closest group.

  Scattered throughout the chamber, some thirty Leviathan troopers had risen to their feet. The few that still had guns fired pot shots, but most of them ran for the auditorium’s exit.

  Gwil caught up to a trooper, grabbed both their wrists, and pulled their arms backward, folding them inward until their shoulders were ripped from their sockets. He put his boot on the small of the soldier’s back and stomped them into the ground, running them over.

  Tezca swooped past Gwil, placing himself between two fleeing soldiers. He slit both of their throats.

  Gwil shrank, ran between a soldier’s legs, and then pop, embiggened, smashing his head into their crotch, knocking them upward. He caught the soldier by their legs and started spinning, building momentum and bludgeoning people as he spun faster and faster.

  Tezca followed up, executing each soldier that Gwil knocked down by plunging his claws through their hearts.

  Gwil let go of the soldier’s legs, hurling the body into Tezca, who took the brunt of the impact in the form of a helmet to the face. His nose started gushing blood again.

  “Sorry!” Gwil said. “I got too dizzy.”

  Gwil shrank and flung himself to the auditorium entrance, where the first of the troopers were about to make it through the doors.

  Gwil caught the trooper by the collar and yanked them back, then placed himself in the doorway. The soldiers continually threw themselves at him. They’d become clumsy and stupid compared to earlier.

  He kept his Nirva burning in his fists and kept on beating them back. Tezca made it to the entrance hall and began carving his way through.

  Gwil observed the way the man fought as he slaughtered the soldiers. So fluid, he killed without interrupting his movements, like he was a dancer. The Warden kept himself low to the ground, leaning far forward and practically swimming with that momentum. He often took steps on all-fours, stabbing his claws into the ground to change directions.

  Fancy-looking, but nothing special.

  “Cool! What’s your Invoke?” Gwil said as he socked a trooper in the face, shattering their mask. A woman’s face was revealed, the skin gray and pruny, withered. Grimacing, he flared his Mir and saw her. The aura was dark, not black, but blank, empty. She was marred by a mess of crisscrossing golden scars, like the surface of a well-used cutting board.

  Tezca stabbed the last soldier and then flicked the body off his claws. The Warden grinned at Gwil. It was nasty the way his human teeth blended with the skull helm’s fangs. “I’ll just say it's unrelated to my combat prowess. I’m all-natural.”

  “Oh, okay. I can shrink.”

  They made their way back toward the jade statue, where all the Malikauans knelt with heads down. Many of the warriors had scattered, as if they’d made to join the fight and then seen that there was no need.

  “Rise, my warriors!” Tezca said. “I will not have you kneel on this day. You are all heroes who I would’ve been proud to have by my side as the Jaguars stood against the demons of the Apocalypse. Let us go above and inform our brothers and sisters that they are safe, that we are victorious! Then we shall feast with our new friends, and I will determine what path the Goddess demands we walk.”

  The warriors cheered with such genuine joy that it filled Gwil with an urge to strangle the Warden.

  Instead, he ran over to Cort and Leira. As soon as he got there, the snaketopus crawled up Gwil’s leg and settled on top of his shoulder. Gwil patted one of the snake heads, and then the others fought for the position.

  “What the fuck is going on?” Leira hissed. “Have we actually made nice with that asshole? Because Gwil, I don’t think—”

  “No, no,” Gwil said. “I dunno what’s going on, but we were both lying, and we both know it. Just follow Challe’s lead. But Cort, are you okay? You look like you’re turning into a mushroom.”

  Stringy white stuff coated his whole body, as if he’d gone swimming in a spider’s nest. The flesh that peeked out beneath was red and crusty and bubbly. He also wore Leira’s dress tied around his waist like a skirt.

  Leira laughed. “That white stuff is from my flower. It’ll help with all his burns.”

  “I’m fine,” Cort said, making to get up. “Just- Wuhohhoho! Arghhhh!” He clenched his teeth and hissed through them. “I just need help getting up, that’s all.” He held out both his hands.

  Gwil took them and, with a pulse of Nirva, lifted Cort to his feet.

  The remaining warriors were climbing up the statue. Tezca had jumped up to the top and was ushering them out, spouting nonsense the whole time. A bunch more Malikauans could be seen up above, gathered around the hole.

  The three of them moved toward there but kept some distance. Leira passed Gwil two tubes of ztuff. He sucked one down and put the other in his pocket.

  “We lost our stove, Gwil,” Leira said.

  “No!”

  “Gwil, is that guy strong?” Cort asked, eyes on the Warden.

  “Nah. He won’t be a problem.”

  “I saw him gut you like a fish,” Leira said. “By the way, you should be using your Nirva to block damage like that. You let yourself get booby-trapped earlier, too.”

  “I just wasn’t ready! I can beat him. Don’t even worry about that.”

  “Good,” Cort said. “‘Cause if the Monarch comes, that’s a way bigger concern. Leira, do you know this King Yuma?”

  “Yuma,” Gwil said. “Yuma, Yuma, Yuma.”

  Leira tilted her head from side to side. “I know I’ve heard the name, but I can’t remember.”

  Cort scoffed.

  “Just because I was- There’s a lot of Monarchs, okay? And I was never very studious.”

  “Yuma will come,” Gwil said. “An axolotl told me. I think they want the Erithist Spike."

  “No shit!” Cort said. “They’d burn a continent for half as much Erithist. And Gwil, you need to start using your brain a little more. Listen. Think. People died because you’re running around like a lunatic.”

  Gwil blinked and his eyes fixed on the dead bodies littered across the floor. His stomach knotted up. “Yeah. You’re right. I’m sorry. You did amazing, though.”

  “Don’t apologize to me,” Cort said. “Whatever. We need to get the fuck out of here.”

  “Cort,” Leira said. “This was our fault. We let them in.”

  “Our? You- Argh! I know, dammit! What’s the play?”

  “Challe is gonna handle everything—she’s awesome. She can shoot lightning out of her hands. All we gotta do is back her up.”

  They fell into the back of the line and made their way up the statue.

  “Welcome, saviors,” the Warden said as they climbed through the hole, back into the atrium. The storm’s growing power made the walls of this grand temple feel very thin.