“Sky! Water!” That was all that came to mind as I watched the firmamanet falling.

  I rushed toward Mary, who had already raised her shield. It wasn’t the time to think too much about it—I had to make sure I wouldn’t be hit by whatever was coming our way. Thankfully, Tress and Elk were in sync with me.

  We reached the safety of Mary’s shield as walls of flames descended upon us.

  Fortunately, the water mage from Mila’s party was quick to react, looking up and preparing her own spell. From behind cover, I watched as she commanded a wave of water, two great geysers shooting from her hands and colliding with the smoldering mass in the sky.

  Then it fell on the shield.

  It wasn’t just flames but an object engulfed in fire, exploding right over our heads. I wasn’t sure if it was the combination of two different spells from two different people, a deity’s boon, or a legendary spell.

  No matter the reasoning behind it—pieces plummeted down, some hitting people in the head before the others managed to cover themselves.

  The magic was incredible, but the power that matched it was something else entirely.

  I wanted to walk over and ask the woman’s name—she had just saved a lot of lives—but she was collapsing to the ground, drained from using all her energy.

  As pieces of the ‘meteorite’ fell over Mary’s shield, some of the wounded nearby were healed, while others were being assisted by healers.

  Surprisingly, the formation didn’t break—the enemies had been hit just like us, except they weren’t lucky enough to have a way to take cover.

  Mila helped her friend up as we took in the mess before us.

  Half of the Vorraks were burned, while the other half lay on the ground, wounded. Without the frenzied state their alpha had gone into before, advancing on them wasn’t that hard.

  “They didn’t fire a single light shot at us,” I muttered.

  “Because it’s not night yet,” Tress replied. “We need to rush—there aren’t enough shields to hold another wave if they start shooting those damned things at us.”

  They were empowered by the moon somehow. It made sense. Would they also go frenzied if the moon rose?

  We couldn’t let them show us. As the sun set behind the mountaintop, we rushed up the slope. Our legs burned, but the enemies weakened.

  “Charge!” I shouted at the top of my lungs, earning a few screams in return.

  I kept an eye on Max—he wasn’t plotting anything against us. He had climbed back to his formation and repeated the same spell, exploding a meteorite above the incoming wave.

  We were keeping pace to reach the mountain slope. I was getting close enough to consider using [Lightning Momentum], but I could still see fresh, white-furred Vorraks at the top, charging in another wave.

  It had to be the last one.

  I sliced through at least ten smoldering Vorraks coming at me slowly—or was that just how I saw them?

  My Strength stat wasn’t increasing anymore. I didn’t feel the rush to keep fighting, nor could I grasp that spark igniting inside my head.

  However, wherever it had plateaued, it was damn strong. I surprised myself as I cut a Vorrak’s arm clean off with a simple slash meant only to slow it for the second attack.

  The creature was as shocked as I was, its severed limb falling near my feet.

  We both looked down, but I was quicker to look up. My blade ripped through its werewolfish mouth and exited the other side.

  I pulled it free and shoved the creature aside, letting it fall out of formation.

  The mountain had become a massacre. A look back, and I could feel the pull to dwell on its meaning. But people weren’t watching the show to see us have an existential crisis—they were watching to see us kill each other and lots, lots of monsters.

  So I started doing the former as fast and efficiently as I could.

  With Tress by my side, covering my flanks, I felt invincible.

  My blade cut through the flesh of the Vorrak like paper, and I just kept going. My reflexes were razor-sharp, as if I were on some high-tech upper drug.

  When one creature fell, I left it for another to finish because I had new ones to take down.

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  Up and up we went, the hilltop drawing closer, my desire to reach it rising with every step.

  There was no voice left in my throat as I kept slaughtering the beasts. I wanted to yell, to release everything inside me, but the pull to fight was so strong I couldn’t control it.

  Had I lost myself without realizing it? Was I frenzied like the Vorrak I fought two days ago? If I was, I didn’t care.

  If the gods thought I had doubts in my heart, they were wrong. My golden armor was red with Vorrak blood, spilled as if poured straight onto a sacrificial pole.

  Maybe that’s exactly where it was going.

  A sharp nail struck the gap between my armor and neck—an inch away from slitting my throat.

  A creature at my side, snapping me out of my frantic attacks, forcing me to take in my surroundings.

  We were near the top already. Ten Vorrak stood before us, one at the front—the one that had just struck me and leaped back.

  Had it just tried to end me?

  I pressed my left hand against the wound, unable to tell what was my blood and what was the Vorak’s, already soaking my hand.

  I looked down and noticed everyone was two steps behind. The only person close to me was Tress, and she looked at me with inquiring eyes.

  “Let’s finish this,” I said to her. She nodded, realizing I was back to myself. No Bloodcraving, like Elk liked to say. No Berserker mode, like Mary had called it before.

  Calculated.

  We were close—we just needed to keep pushing.

  I looked to the side, searching for Max, expecting him to be in the same position as us but farther along their side of the mountain.

  The truth was, he was a little ahead. They hadn’t stopped for a second.

  We couldn’t afford to be calculating now.

  “Break formation and rush to the top!” I bellowed, dagger in hand as a new line formed. No more boxes to push up the hill. A tight, fine line would do the trick now. We were one mile from the top—this wasn’t the time to hold back.

  We pressed forward, matching Max’s pace. The monsters fell one by one as we advanced, but the one that wounded me kept walking back, as if afraid, as if waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

  The only thing that told me that creature was the same one was its eyes. Frightened yet eager at the same time, while all the others were just vicious masses of white rage. Those were cut down by the swords, spears, and arrows of our coalition.

  It was hard to count in the midst of battle, but we had lost only a few, while the monsters had formed a sea of corpses.

  Keep going, little lamb. Draw the blood.

  The god whispered in Max’s ear as he struck another Vorrak with his sword. With each hit, the blade gleamed red. With each gleam, he could release another volley of blood.

  He liked doing it in a cross—it looked surprisingly satisfying. If his grandmother saw him doing this, as religious as she was, she’d die.

  Good thing she’d already been dead for a while. The world was better because of it.

  Yes, yes. One more. Give me one more.

  The god pleaded inside his mind, as if blood and death were the only things that could satisfy its strange hunger.

  Max cut through another three Vorrak with one slash but felt no satisfaction.

  No, no, no! A human one, a sweet one! The god demanded, as it had a few times already today.

  I can’t! Max screamed inside his mind. I don’t want to!

  You want it. I’m inside you—I know you do. Adriano has been so… disappointing lately. He can’t be trusted. He’ll run to Zach if he gets the chance.

  “Stop!” Max cried, and the formation broke. One of his companions—Luca, an Italian—turned to him, only to be devoured by a Vorrak the next second.

  So sweet, the god whispered.

  I didn’t give you that! It was a mistake!

  Like the one you made a few days ago? When that girl went to piss and never came back?

  Stop! Max cried, this time internally, as he forced himself back into the fight, cutting down more monsters. His companions followed his lead—no time to think too much in the middle of battle, right?

  He could see the top. He could see Zach and his crew of degenerates nearing it too.

  He had to push faster. He had to get there before them.

  Are you going to kill him? the god whispered, reading his mind. I want to taste him. He’s with someone, ‘someones’ I loathe.

  His god? Max asked.

  Gods… two faces of the same indecisiveness. Gods of death that can’t kill, that can’t decide. Not like us—we are bound by blood, and blood is pure.

  The god’s words made Max’s heart pound with anger. He released more blood into the air, the iron scent making him shiver, his own blood pumping hard against his chest.

  The fucker had two gods, while Max had one that never shut up, one that had turned him into an assassin.

  Me? The god laughed so hard it was almost impossible to concentrate.

  Max stopped, cupping both ears and looking down. Adriano stepped in to cover for him.

  He was saying something—shouting.

  “Boss?! Boss!?” The man shook him, and Max looked up. They were almost at the top of the slope—they had reached a platform. No more Vorraks near them.

  The other group, a big one instead of two like they’d expected, had reached the same place, but they still had one Vorrak alive.

  This one backed away as if it were a demon and Zach was the exorcist who had just learned its name.

  “It’s afraid of him,” Max muttered, then realized—the creature shouldn’t be afraid of Zach.

  From the top of the mountain, a giant figure crashed onto the platform where both groups now stood, never so close.

  The thing was at least ten feet tall, its hand big enough to grab the Vorrak in one grip, heave it into the sky, and bite half its body off in a single movement.

  The giant chomped down on the meat, then looked toward the others.

  And Max knew—one was coming for him too.