“Helegar,” Veronica snapped at the man. “This is not what we agreed upon!”

  Rain droplets drizzled from the surface sky. The storm zone had not been excavated—a procedure which was usually performed for the simplest of surges. Letting a full red storm break on muddy surface soil was reckless at best. Suicidal if anything went wrong. There was a chance the storm would pick up reanimated mud, tossing it all around, perhaps to Ranewal’s outskirts, which were visible in the distance. And since they were on the surface, Ranewal had no walls.

  Ellinoir Sylva was also absent. Only fifteen of the Sylva Bloods’ promised thirty had shown up, and all were lesser members, merely fodder against anything strong that could spawn out of this storm. Swordblessed had shown up thankfully, but their strongest fighter was Ivanna. She was a fourth elevation hunter, but without exalted skills.

  Somehow, the lack of excavation and Ellinoir’s absence were the least of Veronica’s problems. The monster that Helegar had crafted was not a Dread Ranger as they had discussed. Veronica would have had a good matchup against a bow-wielding monster.

  “You crafted a wyvern!” Veronica growled.

  The damned sub-sovereign dared smile. He watched proudly as his monster was carried onto the platform. The wyvern was easily amongst the five worst surge hazards she’d ever seen. While typical ether sticks or crafted monsters were built of simple materials such as wood or stone, perhaps cheap metals, this one was built of pure gold scales with locium mixed in here and there. Helegar’s artist had built a full realistic golden statue of a wyvern.

  “After a monster dies, the gold and locium will return to normal,” Helegar said. “This piece of art will be dented and ruined, but the metals can be retrieved.” He grinned at Veronica. “It’s an amazing piece of art. Better than I had asked.”

  “It’s deadly,” Veronica said.

  The wide grin quickly began fading. “Are you telling me you can’t defeat it?”

  Veronica frowned. That depended entirely on whether the daggers of Halo Of Blades could pierce its hide. Gold was a soft material, thankfully, though it would likely grant the wyvern unexpected enhancements.

  Still, the hunting companies hadn’t come unprepared either. Swordsmen and swordmaidens encircled the storm zone at a half mile radius. Any closer could have been deadly. Veronica trusted Ivanna and the Swordblessed to deal with any lesser monsters spawned from the mud, of which there would be many. The Sylva Bloods would struggle, but they’d buy time.

  There was a good chance hunters would die while Veronica dueled the wyvern. Defeating the large monster was her job. And as long as she could fight it without distractions, she was positive she would win.

  Veronica would have liked to fight from the highground, but the mud field was totally flat. Nobody had constructed anything in their surroundings for advantages either. If she wanted to, she had the ultimate authority to call the fight off; to order Helegar to take the wyvern out. Lords on the surface would be more reluctant to hire her, but that was a small price.

  This is all around a risk, Veronica thought. But she had to admit, defeating that wyvern would grant a skill. And that skill could very well be an exalted one.

  “We will fight it,” Veronica decided. “Get back, Sovereign, and leave this to us.”

  Helegar grinned wide, as if he’d finally managed to convince Veronica. She gave him no response. Even an eye-roll would have been too much for this clueless man. He was, however, smart to hire Veronica. She was one of the few hunters who could have a chance against flying monsters with her daggers.

  Let’s win, Veronica thought. Are you warmed up?

  Her spirit didn’t speak. It never did. Though Veronica could tell from its presence in her core that her spirit was pumped. It had meditated calmly for days leading up to this. Together, they were in good shape. And for a job like this, they had to be.

  “The chances of an early breakout are high!” Veronica’s forecaster called with ether amplifying her voice. “Do not step into the storm zone!”

  From there, final preparations took place as everyone finalized their positions and formations. Ellinoir Sylva finally showed up, though she was lacking seven of her promised members. If her hunters died due to inadequate front lines, Ellinoir could only blame herself.

  The Lifeweavers were ready. The next part of the job was either the most boring, or the most nerve-wracking. The staredown between the surge-zone before the storm broke. Everyone remained silent as they faced the storm zone, nervously awaiting its break. With lesser surge jobs, Mico would have been sparking jokes behind Veronica, which she would ignore. No such jokes came. The sight ahead was unnerving enough to draw and keep everyone's attention.

  Fifteen minutes later, the ground finally trembled. The Lifeweavers adjusted their stances and called all of their spirit blades all at once. The deafening sizzle of everyone's spirit blades combined together for a truly powerful sound. The hunters glowed within the muddy surface drizzle like an angelic force of true defenders.

  The glow enveloped the entire surge zone as hunters from all groups sparked to life. The green outfits of the Swordblessed; red of the Sylva Bloods, and the dark magenta of Veronica herself. Suddenly, the area no longer appeared gloomy.

  Any doubts flowed out of Veronica’s head at the reassuring sight. There was nothing more powerful than a full defence line of ether hunters. For this moment, everyone would forget their desire for riches. They were in this together. And they would fight monsters.

  The storm broke.

  It wasn’t as violent as Veronica had thought. Three surge-like geysers flowed out first. A misty overflow of ether followed, as if a witch’s cauldron had blown up, smoke rising to the air.

  “A slow break!” her forecaster called. “Stay ready!”

  Wisps found the golden wyvern, though it didn’t immediately reanimate. The storm began filling it gradually. That was what a slow storm break was. The monsters built slowly. Veronica would have to wait for the wyvern to begin moving before killing it.

  The flow of ether gradually grew as the mud around the wyvern began rising. Figures and animals formed. A humanoid swordsman, a blob of slime, a deer—the muddy dirt was so soft and versatile that the storm was free to shape whatever it wished.

  “Fire!” Ellinoir Sylva called with her staff pointed at the storm zone. A discharge of ether shot down the first mudman. Her archers followed, ethereal arrows raining down.

  Most monsters remained on the defence. That was common for slow-building storms. Only a few mud monsters attacked. Members of Swordblessed slashed them in half as they reached their formation. Ellinoir cast another discharge, killing more. The Lifeweavers whipped out their ranged spells as a javelin of ether pierced a mud gorilla. Veronica, too, called her daggers, though she didn’t yet activate her ascension skill.

  Stolen story; please report.

  The slow attacks continued as more monsters formed from the mud, getting themselves killed one by one. The lesser monsters were easy. Of course they were, considering most of the ether was flowing into the wyvern.

  It was good that the lesser monsters were easy. Veronica would receive assistance with the main attraction, as the other hunting companies wouldn’t need to focus on an onslaught of little critters. It seemed this storm would really be a one monster boss fight. Little mudmen kept spawning and dying.

  The storm suddenly exploded.

  The calm geysers of slow buildup blew with ether as a huge quake came from underground, shaking her footing. The sound of spirit blades was overpowered by the storm as wisps formed a whirlwind. The wind itself was caught by the storm’s force, Veronica’s hair flaring with it.

  Her heart sent a thump as everything she had just been relieved for was proven untrue. The ground itself rose like a mountain—it wasn’t just mud reanimating, but the stone itself—and a golem rose from the ground, tall enough that were this the third level, its head would have touched the sky. The rainclouds were shrouded by a fog of ether; the sky itself disappearing from sight.

  Chaos and violence ensued. The sheer volume of the violent storm overpowered any commands. Monsters with bloodthirsty red eyes swarmed out from the mud like ants rising from an angry colony. Hunters desperately slashed at anything that attacked. Veronica saw the first death immediately as a Sylva Bloods fighter received a boulder of hard mud to the head. Veronica wasn’t sure what had tossed it. Probably just the storm itself, having ripped apart a chunk of ground.

  This was not fifteen million ether at all. It must have been closer to thirty, and still more!

  Gritting her teeth, Veronica activated Ascension Of Darkness.

  Her figure ascended into a dark monster, and her daggers evolved to the most dangerous weapons of the battlefield. She thrust flying daggers through the heads of what looked like mud assassins, piercing her daggers through lesser monsters.

  Veronica had hoped not to deal with lesser folk, but more than that, she hoped nobody would die in her hunting group. Bows fired behind her, swords slashing ahead, but monsters were spawning faster than the hunters could kill. A Swordblessed junior was crushed to the ground, dying.

  In the middle of the storm, the wyvern kept brewing.

  The golem’s footsteps echoed like crashing meteors. It slowly moved directly toward Veronica and the city behind her. A tank monster. Veronica’s daggers wouldn’t be able to kill it.

  Ellinoir! Veronica thought, glancing at the Sylva Bloods’ second in command. Ellinoir had the skill Piercing Strike. She was a tank slayer. Her job was to deal with the golem.

  Ellinoir wasn’t using the skill at the golem at all. She shot at nearby lesser monsters, desperately trying to save her own hunting group from being run over.

  Useless idiot! Veronica thought, but she had no choice but to help. She directed her daggers at the monsters attacking Ellinoir. With her eyes closed, Veronica killed as many monsters as she could, sensing their auras.

  She tried to add more ether into her aura, but she found herself already at ten thousand. Her body burned inside. Ten thousand ether was impossibly taxing. She wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long.

  At this pace, she’d be exhausted before the wyvern even awoke!

  Her daggers thrust through mud, killing enough monsters that Ellinoir had a chance to focus on the golem. And despite her stupidity, Ellinoir wasn’t incompetent. She knew what her job was, and she aimed her staff at the golem.

  Piercing Strike shot like a javelin bolt with enough force to knock Ellinoir backward. Two of her men protected her from the recoil as the insane bolt shot forth, hitting the golem straight in its left cheek.

  The impact bobbed its head slightly, knocking it back. A slight dent was left in its head. It didn’t even look in Ellinoir’s direction, taking the blow like it was nothing.

  No way… Veronica thought. That was their heaviest attack. Piercing Strike could barely scratch it.

  Veronica threw her own daggers at the golem as it approached her hunting group. Her ascended daggers rebounded off. Tank monsters were her weakness. She couldn’t do anything against a golem of this size.

  None of them could.

  Desperately, Veronica thrust her daggers into the eye of the storm. She had to kill the wyvern now. If it awoke at full strength, everyone and the city would die. Casualties would start from the thousands.

  Her dagger thrust into its golden scales with all its might, and rebounded right off.

  Veronica tried again, hitting the same spot. She couldn’t harm it. And it was only taking in more ether.

  The fog of residual ether clouded not only the sky, but the battlefield itself. Veronica collected ether as fast as she could in hopes of making the battlefield visible for her allies, but the fog remained. They could barely see fifty feet ahead.

  Veronica could sense the ongoing fights to the left and right. The Sylva Bloods were totally overrun. More than ten had died. Ellinoir Sylva was running, shooting discharges. The Swordblessed held on, though they were dying as well. Ivanna called a retreat, and they, too, abandoned the battlefield.

  Veronica stood there in shock. The first casualty of the Lifeweavers came as Peppin, a junior swordsman, received a dagger through the heart. Veronica’s hunting group was too focused on survival; they didn’t see the two hunting groups at all. They were alone.

  And they, too, were being overrun.

  Retreat… Veronica thought, but struggled to form the words. Retreating now would mean abandoning Ranewal. The wyvern would be unleashed without a scratch of damage on its skin. There was a chance the surface would die entirely. They had to win.

  They couldn’t. Another man died. The mud monsters alone were overpowering the spirit blades.

  Veronica opened her mouth and turned around. “Retreat…” Her voice came out as frail. She added ether to her voice. “Everyone, retreat!”

  Her command was already being followed. Hunters ran where they could. The front lines were stuck in defence. Turning their backs would lead to death. Veronica desperately tried to help with her daggers. She had to.

  The monsters were about to overrun her position. She had to escape as well. She tried to lift a foot.

  It was stuck.

  She tried again. It wouldn’t move.

  What’s this!? Veronica yelled in her head, desperately trying to move. She activated Float, her rare skill, but that didn’t do anything. She was stuck.

  Ahead in the fray of monsters, she sensed an ethereal presence. An odd one. Something was connected to her. She looked in the direction and saw a shaman wielding a staff. Its red eyes grinned at her. She could see a web embedded into her feet, holding her in place.

  No! Veronica thought. She’d been trapped. The shaman had cast paralysis on her! She tried pushing ether to her legs, but the shaman far overpowered her. Its aura burned like a campfire.

  The Lifeweavers ran past her, back into the city, taking her orders. People ran behind her, as if thankful for Veronica for staying back to defend them.

  No, no, no! Veronica thought. She wasn’t defending anyone at all. She was stuck. She couldn’t even scream.

  The last of the Lifeweavers abandoned the front lines, leaving Veronica alone.

  Every single monster turned to her. Ravenous mud gnolls, buzzing giant insects, skeletons of buried animals, hundreds of them, with the golem stomping behind, the wyvern brewing stronger, about to wake up.

  Stay away! Veronica thought in desperation, but it was useless. A gnoll’s greatsword slashed down at her.

  She didn’t accept her death. She hated it. She didn’t want to die. She still had so many students to raise. And in that fraction of a second, she had no time to say goodbye to it all. She desperately tried to move her legs.

  All she managed was to fall on her back, her dress splashing against the mud. She closed her eyes, holding a hand in a pathetic attempt to protect herself.

  Cling.

  The Lifeweavers’ fleeing and fearful auras had been replaced by something else. New presences had arrived.

  Something had saved her.

  Veronica opened her eyes to see the gnoll slashed in half by an enormous greatsword. She saw a woman. Brown hair, and a black and purple coat, shining with a beautiful ethereal aura.

  The woman slashed wildly with her sword, and a shockwave erupted, killing a full wave of monsters in one hit. Another shockwave followed, and twenty more mud monsters were snapped in half, as if monsters that just overpowered a full hunting group were nothing at all. The monsters were being pushed back.

  Figures in grey raincoats walked past Veronica, their hoods up. She recognized none of them, and even more foreign were their weapons. Veronica could only describe them as tubes, though each one of the odd weapons had an odd presence in the ethereal realm.

  “Aim!” the woman, their leader, called with her heavenly white greatsword held high, as if she commanded the rain itself. The hem of her black raincoat fluttered by the wind. For some reason, her voice was familiar.

  She pointed her sword at the golem. “Fire!”

  The sound barrier broke and a shockwave erupted, the collective snaps of each weapon ringing in Veronica’s ears as her eyes were wide open in awe.

  The missiles whistled through the air, and explosions followed. Cracks and holes appeared all over. Its footing wavered.

  A hand reached out to her. Veronica blinked, requiring a moment to realize someone was trying to help her up. It was another figure in a raincoat—this time a girl in a black raincoat with pink flowers. A sight that Veronica would have usually described as cute.

  “Hey,” the girl said with a smile. “The villains have arrived.”

  Another wave of missiles fired, and the golem crumbled to bits.