Escaping another thunderous swipe, Haern's chains surge out, whipping at the horizontally inclined Demon below, but again the fiend manages to zip out of reach. Haern's eyes dart about the battlefield below for Fex and that damned hammer, but he can't find him—likely gone under the sand again, waiting for Haern to land or slip up so he can move past.

With a burst of mana, Haern's chains soak with acid and drip onto Crimson tiers below. Spinning them over and across, he sent acid raining down on all their heads. It eats into the sand as well, so if Fex is hiding in there then—

The dunes behind him burst as Fex came flying out. His thin wings buzz, giving him and that cursed hammer a powerful aerial boost.

Caught off guard, Haern flaps his wings in a flustered frenzy, propelling himself in the wrong direction. Fex slams the hammer into Haern's side, flinging him through the air like a ragdoll until he plummets through a dune.

Groaning, Haern's chains untangle and shrink back into the rings on his hands. Digging himself out of the dune—not for the first time today—he silently thanks Eveal for the armor. He'd called it the [Stimulus Armor] because it anticipates where you're most vulnerable and protects you from incoming attacks. It slinks over Haern's chest now, a simple-looking carapace shell that turns fluid when moving.

Eveal didn't seem to value it much, but Haern figured that was because of [Bonded Thrall]. It had to be the reason for its effectiveness. The perk had boosted enchanted weapon damage and potency to the point that even Fex—formidable as he was—took every opportunity to evade Haern's attacks. He snorted and cracked a loose bone back into place before taking flight.

Fex had tossed Haern a good distance away, but Gerim had already engaged him—the large bursts of ice and water were clear signs of that. Still, Haern had to get back. If Gerim had taken his place against Fex, that meant the base was exposed. The Crimson Tiers couldn't hold off Kraok the way Gerim could, though Haern wasn't sure he could either.

Once over the battlefield, he activated his rings, and his chains unraveled, still dripping with acid that burned fiercely under [Bonded Thrall]. As he descended, he lashed out, the chains slicing through necks and coiling around several foes. Before Kraok could turn his attention to him, Haern yanked the chain, severing the ones ensnared from their torsos.

"Haha! Look at you, proudly killing the Demons you stood side by side with not too long ago," Kraok bellowed, crushing one of Gerim's minions in his grasp.

Kraok, the Queen's right-hand and enforcer, towered over the battlefield, his massive, scaly form bearing a striking resemblance to mortal Dragon-kin. Many Demons raised under the Queen had never even glimpsed her, but Kraok—he was the face of her power. Some even claimed he was on the verge of reaching Maroon Tier himself.

Having just broken Blood Orange and still struggling with Fex, Haern was well out of his league facing off against Kraok.

"You're lucky we can't kill each other," he said, more as a reminder than a bluff. He knew full well he couldn't kill Kraok, but he had to make sure Kraok knew the same applied to him.

"Why not?" Kraok marched forward. The wiser Crimson Tiers gave way at his approach, while the ambitious ones were crushed beneath his bare fist. "Ah… you mean the suggestion put forward by our Noble Generals? It's true, we should try not to kill opposing Blood Orange tiers, but… do you count as one?"

Kraok stepped over another Crimson-tier carcass, wiping his bloodstained, scaly hands with a slow, savoring lick. His tongue was as dark as the hardened scales that armored the thick muscles beneath. Behind him, a massive tail, lined with rows of sharp spines, wagged lazily as he stopped a good distance from Haern.

"Answering that is an insult on its own, Kraok."

"I taught you well, then. How about this—I'll beat you into the ground with just my fists. No weapons, no magic, nothing. And if you manage to score a hit on me, even just a nick, I won't kill you. I'll retreat, even, and we can tussle for the gate another day."

The offer was shamefully tempting. As someone very keen on living past the night, Haern considered it, though he knew well that Gerim and Eveal would be just as eager to kill him. They hadn't been particularly receptive when they found him in their territory with an unstable gate torn open.

"The gate belongs to Calridian, Kraok. You can go tell the Queen that."

The accommodating demeanor faded from Kraok's face. A low growl rumbled from his throat. "The Queen—your Queen until not too long ago—was charged by the Demon Lord himself to safeguard that gate, and we're here to do just that."

"Ha, you're leaving out the part where Calridian was also charged with that responsibility," Haern said, rolling his shoulders. "Why it takes two Maroon tiers to defend a portal I'll probably never know, but what I do know is you and the Queen can defend from far, far away. This is Calridian's territory. The way Eveal says it… you've essentially declared war on him."

"War?" Kraok laughed, voice thick with menace. "If this were a war, I'd have used your bones as toothpicks already. How quick you are to switch allegiances."

"Quick? I had no say in it. Eveal found me here, and if I return to the Queen she'll eat me!"

"She eats all delinquents." Kraok cracked his wrists and fingers. "I prefer to crush mine. Now, how about that wager?"

On the other end of the battlefield, Gerim was taking on Fex, keeping him from reaching Eveal on the other side of the gate. The glassed space where it sat was where Haern had last seen Nil. The blast that followed had left a crater of shimmering glass crystals, with an unstable crack in space hovering above it. Eveal had gone in on Calridian's orders to see what was on the other side, but Kraok, the Queen's right-hand, was far from amused.

He was all smiles and chuckles now, but Haern knew the Demon had little intention of holding back. Even as he wagered with him, it was clear he was intent on delivering as much agony as he could manage.

Haern took a breath and spread his wings. Kraok's grin widened as he took a step forward. Tail wagging behind him, he lunged. Haern strafed out of the way and ascended, his chains twisting the sands into a dust cloud, momentarily blinding Kraok. Rather than attack, Haern fluttered further out of reach, hoping to get into telepathic range with Gerim.

A dozen jagged spines shot out from the dust cloud, hurtling toward him. Haern's chains twisted, scattering them with ease, but Kraok was already closing in, bounding over dunes and using Crimson tiers as footholds to launch himself skyward.

With a roar, Kraok swiped at him, each strike carrying the force to tear him apart. Haern twisted away, his chains lashing out to wrap around the Demon's extended arm. Before he could sever it from the shoulder, a vicious impact sent him hurtling from the sky.

The [Stimulus Armor] took the brunt of the blow, and Haern silently thanked it. Kraok's attacks were brimming with Essence and mana, detonating with explosive force. Taking note of that, Haern spread his wings again—if he lingered on the ground for too long, the fight would be over.

Kraok landed a few feet away, roaring with laughter as he bit the head off what Haern was sure had been a Crimson tier on his own side. Watching the Demon's mouth drip with blood and gray matter made it painfully clear what would happen if Haern let him get too close.

Before Kraok could charge again, Haern flew over him, whirling his chains at the ground and showering everyone below in rich acid. Kraok bolted, running faster than Haern could fly, leaping over Demons locked in battle. Haern pushed more Essence into his wings, keeping up the aerial acid assault, but Kraok continued bounding just out of reach.

Flooding his rings with mana and Essence, Haern combined both chains into one and lashed out at Kraok. The strike landed a hair's breadth from where the Demon had been—only for Kraok to lunge further away, twisting in midair to grin at him before detonating with Essence.

The sheer force of Kraok's aura was enough to be both felt and seen, ripping a fresh dune into the sands as he landed. Cursing his luck, Haern shot for higher altitudes—only for a flurry of scales to launch toward him before he could ascend an inch.

Snapping his wings shut, he plummeted. Keeping them spread would only make him an easy target for those projectiles. Even as he fell, he had enough height to track Kraok's movements—the Demon was already charging again.

Haern couldn't outrun him, and those projectiles had effectively grounded him. Fuck.

"Gerim! Gerim!"

Spreading his wings just before hitting the sand, Haern glided back toward the main fight, hoping to crash into Gerim and swap opponents. Fex was a lot less terrifying than this.

"Where are you going?!" Kraok roared behind him, steam huffing from his mouth as he chugged after Haern, arm outstretched.

Haern lashed out with his chains, but Kraok somersaulted over them, grabbing one midair and wrapping it around his fists. With a single tug, he yanked Haern out of the sky—straight into his waiting hands.

Kraok's giant hand wrapped around Haern's throat, squeezing as he cursed, kicked, and flailed. The Demon's laughter rumbled in his ears, and at this close range, Haern got an all-too-clear view of the rows of teeth lining Kraok's maw. The Demon balled Haern's chains in one fist, holding them at his side as he prepared to end him.

"Would you look at that?" Kraok mused, smug. "I was right again. You're no Blood Orange."

"Stop!" Haern croaked, his voice barely escaping past the iron grip. "Look, look!" He choked out, pointing at the very fist Kraok was about to use to finish him.

Kraok followed his gesture and found his own hand dripping with acid and blood, the flesh sizzling beneath his scales. His smile faltered, just for a moment, before his grip loosened and Haern dropped, massaging his bruised throat.

"Guess you have to retreat now," Haern said, regaining some cheek.

Kraok growled, leaning in close. "No."

Haern exhaled sharply. Didn't think he'd keep that part of the deal, but…

"You can keep your life," Kraok finally conceded, "and I will recognize you as a fellow Blood Orange tier—but not as an equal."

With that, he leapt off, taking his wound with him into the next battle.

A heavy sigh of relief escaped Haern as he slumped back into the sand. He didn't feel any rush to get back into the fray—especially now that he had scratched the surface of Kraok's power. How does Gerim keep up? The quilled Demon was closer to Haern in strength than to Kraok, and yet he managed to fend off the Queen's enforcer as easily as he swatted Fex away.

Shaking his head, Haern picked himself up and took to the air. No matter how he does it, he won't last long against both Fex and Kraok—not unless he kills one of them.

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Chains trailing behind him, Haern cut through the Crimson tiers in his way, the rest taking the hint and parting before him. As he neared the battle, Gerim's voice barked into his mind.

"Get here and take Fex now!"

Gerim vaulted over Fex, dodging the Demon's hammering strike while simultaneously pelting the encroaching Kraok with long ice quills. They shattered against Kraok's scaly hide, but the attack bought Gerim the space he needed.

From above, Haern spread his wings and unfurled his chains, preparing to dive. A trail of his most potent acid dripped behind him, sizzling against the glassy terrain—though it did little damage. He didn't let it discourage him. It was enough to get Kraok off my back, and that's what matters.

Below, Gerim continued leapfrogging over Fex's wide, winded swings. A grin crept onto Haern's face. Fex is exhausted. He won't be able to keep up with me now—not after dancing with Gerim all this time.

Fex didn't even see him coming.

At the last second, Fex turned. Haern spread his wings, halting his descent, but his chains struck first, scratching through the glass before wrapping around Fex. The Demon raged, immediately caught, but before he could fight their grip, Haern flooded the chains with mana again. Fex's scream tore through the battlefield—acid eating through flesh was always a good reason to sing.

With a merry chuckle, Haern slung him over his head, then let him slam and drag into the glass before hauling him back up for another swing.

"Damn you, Haern!" Fex snarled.

"You should be grateful; this is as non-lethal as I can get," Haern replied.

He would have liked to keep swinging, but Gerim had slowed down. Kraok snapped trails of lightning through his towers of ice, setting escape routes ablaze. The fires were easy to put out with a bit of water, but they were just another distraction as Kraok burst through already-broken ice to smack Gerim further into the battlefield.

"Looks like this is where we part, Fex," Haern said.

"Wha—!"

Fex never got to finish. Haern pulled with all his strength and swung him into the glass. It shattered on impact, cracks running outward before stopping abruptly.

Fluttering down to check on his opponent, Haern found Fex still alive and scoffed. "I was hoping my full strength would do more than knock you out, but… guess I've still got some growing to do."

Retrieving his chains from Fex's body, Haern spread his wings and prepared to face a magic-powered Kraok. But before he could take off, a sudden crack and snap echoed from the gate.

Unlike its surroundings, the gate was a bell-shaped glitch hanging in the sky—a bright yet sometimes dark tear in space itself. Its unstable nature caused fluctuating colors to spill across the glassy terrain, glittering over everything. Eveal had entered when the portal was stable and bright, though he had used something from Calridian to make it that way.

The gate bulged again, snapping like one of Kraok's thunderbolts, possibly just as lethal. It flexed and spread until an arm pushed through.

"Gerim, I think Eveal's coming back now!" Haern called.

"Good, make sure it's just him!"

"Just him? Who else would there be?"

"Just do it!"

Not wanting to argue, Haern focused on the gate. The arm pushing through belonged to a Demon, unmistakably wisping with Essence. Was Eveal forced to guard his entire body with Essence just to come through? How much did it hurt?

Another appendage followed. Haern hesitated. Should he just pull him out? He fluttered closer, feeling the warping effects of mana as the gate flexed. His chains shifted uncontrollably, reverting to rings and back to chains again. Snarling, he flooded them with a steady stream of mana and strict commands to keep them stable.

The arm protruding through the gate twitched. Haern wavered. There was little time—the sooner Eveal got out, the sooner they could leave Kraok behind. He clasped the outstretched hand and pulled. It was harder than expected, and far more unsettling. The gate kept bulging, changing shape, stretching and shrinking erratically. What would happen to Eveal's body if Haern forced him through?

"Hurry!" Gerim screamed in his mind, his thoughts frantic. The battle was getting worse.

Haern shrugged off his doubts. If Eveal came out chopped, elongated, or boxed, that wasn't his fault. He hadn't been the one who sent him in there in the first place. Pulling with all his might, he eventually freed a head and found Eveal. He was awake but frozen—no, moving, but not? Breathing, but barely?

Shaking his head, Haern gave one last yank, dragging Eveal free just as the gate snapped violently. A powerful blast sent both of them tumbling onto the desert sands.

Sprawled and tangled in his own chains, Haern barely had time to react before Eveal shoved against him.

"Get off!" Eveal snapped.

"Ugh, take it ea—!" Haern started, but Eveal had already freed himself, springing to his feet. His gaze swept across Reais, muttering Demon names under his breath as he took in the battlefield.

Haern frowned. "What are you—?"

"Eveal! Leave Kraok, we have to return," Eveal suddenly called out, urgency lacing his voice.

Gerim didn't hesitate. He sent a ripple of mana through the air, transforming the blood and guts littering the battlefield into a long wall of pink ice between himself and Kraok. Eveal took off without another word, leaving Haern and the Crimson tiers behind, along with the many brawling Demons still locked in combat.

Haern pushed himself up, knowing Gerim would manage his own escape. Worn and battered as he was, the other Blood Orange was still far less likely to die here than Haern himself.

Following Eveal's trail, Haern arrived at their camp and found him tearing through the large chest they had arrived with.

"What are you looking for? Eveal? Talk to me," Haern pressed, but Eveal ignored him, still ransacking the supplies.

Gerim arrived soon after, bruised, cut, and burned in multiple places, yet still moving. Kraok hadn't pursued him. Haern exhaled. Between Eveal's frantic energy, Gerim's exhaustion, and fresh Blood Orange stock like himself, they could have put the enemy in the ground if needed.

But Kraok wasn't worried about them. He was worried about Eveal.

The gate had drawn far too much attention, enough that even the Maroon tiers had sent their right-hand men despite the wide-scale war between the Demon Lords. It was power, Haern was sure of it. Nil had vanished into that portal before anyone else, and while the thought filled Haern with a touch of envy, it was what Eveal searched for now that unsettled him more.

As the Crimson tiers began to pull back, Gerim attempted to get an answer. "What is it? What did you see? What's over there?"

Eveal shook his head. "We have to leave now, all of us."

"Why? Is something coming through?" Haern interjected, stepping forward.

Again, Eveal shook his head. "We need permission. Lord Calridian must know what I've seen… what I've experienced. This is exactly what he's been looking for!"

A manic laugh tore from him. Gerim and Haern exchanged wary glances, but before either could voice their concern, Eveal cut them off. "Don't worry, I haven't lost my mind. I'm just excited, and you will be too once Lord Calridian confirms it. Now, hurry! We have to return."

"What about the gate? Shouldn't we protect it?" Haern asked.

Eveal didn't even pause to answer, already sprinting toward Calridian's domain.

"Don't worry about that. We were sent here to prevent anyone else from using it. Besides, it's far too unstable to use now—at least without Calridian's instructions and artifacts," Gerim explained.

"That must've been what he was searching for," Haern muttered, watching Eveal disappear into the distance.

Gerim smirked and revealed a medium-sized orb from one of the many rings on his fingers. "The best place to hide an artifact is often within another."

Haern took the lesson to heart, but there was little time to dwell on it. He turned to the Crimson tiers, issuing the retreat order. Most were still scavenging Crystals from their fallen enemies. A pang of nostalgia and greed stirred within him, but he ignored both in favor of what lay ahead.

Whatever Eveal had seen, whatever had driven him to this state—it would all be revealed when they reached Calridian.

It would be the first time Haern had seen him since the Lord had summoned him to explain what had happened to Nil and Morthul.

***

Eveal begged on his knees. "Milord!"

Calridian loomed over them, a giant coalescence of several Demon species. The multitude of hands and appendages carried about, gathering acids squirted out from pores, mixing and casting spells with the extra mouths.

Every time Haern saw him, he was a terrifying wonder.

"I understand the original efforts were to create a gate of our own, controlled and secret, but we've been preempted. Vastly so, in fact. The moments we waste speaking now would be better spent on an immediate Consumption of the Ire Realms through that portal.

"It sits there, unstable but still functional enough that your artifacts allowed me to cross over. Milord, if we don't act now, the Queen will, and she will consume without restraint."

Gerim grunted beside him, standing, not kneeling. "That sounds wonderful, Eveal, but what's this part you keep leaving out? The part where that very Realm is devoid of Essence?"

Eveal snapped his head around. "Essence is the nucleus of Reais and all of its inhabitants. Wherever we go, Essence is sure to follow. That is why Consumptions happen, regardless of the will of the Demon."

"Yes, I see your point, Eveal," Calridian said. His voice hummed and thrilled around Haern's skull like the soft whispers of a mother and the stern order of a Noble General. "Whatever we do, we must hurry. Nil has already made a mark in these Realms, has it not? Waste any more time, and Reais will pull under it and grant Nil powers worthy of a Maroon or even Dark Red tier."

Eveal nodded emphatically. "However, this Nil was a High Crimson at last sighting. If it has achieved any growth, then it would at least be a Blood Orange, but without Essence and without a way back to Reais, it cannot grow past that point. If we arrive and spread your name throughout the Realms before anyone of significant power has the chance to do so… you will rise beyond even the Demon Lord."

Haern couldn't help but gasp at the sound of this. Calridian turned an eye to him and blinked. He looked back to Eveal and asked, "Did you not mention there being a war between the nations?"

Gerim grunted, "And a significant figure by the name and title of King?"

"King? I thought Nil would go with Lord Crimson," Haern blurted out before he could think better of himself.

All eyes landed on him this time. "King? Is that not a name Nil would choose?" Calridian asked, speaking directly to him.

Grimacing, Haern said, "I didn't spend too long with Nil, but it made me call it Lord Crimson for a while when we hunted Morthul."

"Only for a while? Did it switch to King?" Calridian pressed, unnaturally still.

"No… it didn't switch," Haern said, unsure what assumption he was clarifying for the Noble General. "Nil asked me to stop because it felt uncomfortable."

Gerim snorted. "Not uncomfortable enough. If Nil is behind these wars and is in fact heralding them, then we cannot cross him out as a threat, Eveal. You've said you'd seen days grow into weeks before you returned to us still in place. Time there moves faster than here—imagine how much has already passed."

Eveal shook his head. "The war with the nations will make a Consumption easier. We should take advantage of it. The Demon Lords of our layer will continue to trouble Varks, and in the blink of an eye, Milord, you will supersede him by magnitudes." He bowed further, subservient to hang by Calridian's word.

Gerim shifted his weight and groaned. "Eveal is right. This is a good opportunity for a Consumption. The fact we can attempt one at all is reason enough. We'll have to do it swiftly, with overwhelming force right out the gate."

Eveal's eyes widened, then narrowed dangerously at Gerim as he hissed, "Yes… it must be so."

Calridian boomed with laughter that startled Eveal and Haern. Gerim stood unfazed, almost a bit expectant and smug. Calridian's gaze found Haern, and he froze; the pressure exerted over him through the multitude of glowing, seeping, and crying eyes had him crinkling his toes. "And you… what do you think of this?"

Eveal shot him a glare, and Gerim didn't even bother acknowledging that he had been spoken to, the quilled Demon ever calm and silent.

"Uh... what part?"

Calridian's eyes narrowed, and Haern corrected himself instantly. "Yes, oh, yes. I mean, yes, I believe the Queen will be the true pain to deal with, especially if we continue to abide by the Demon Lord's laws and refrain from killing her Blood Orange tiers. She will hinder any advance toward the portal and attempt advances of her own, but what I fear isn't just her initiative."

Calridian hummed. His many hands paused their activities, and for the first time ever, Haern had the full attention of a Maroon tier. Gulping, he continued and hoped he wouldn't make a fool of himself.

"The Demon Lord himself may choose to hinder you, Milord. In fact, he may have already begun."

"Already?"

"Yes, by setting Milord and the Queen, infamous rivals, to watch something as coveted as a portal… I believe he's trying to keep you both from getting any headway, to keep both Maroon powers weakened while he focuses on the war with Varks. If either one of you makes any headway, I believe he will aid the other."

At this point, Gerim looked up from his feet to fix Haern with a cold gaze. He couldn't read Gerim's or Eveal's impressions very well, so he ended up with a vibe of mixed hostility and intrigue.

Calridian's hands got back to work once Haern finished talking, but one extended out to him. "Give me those rings."

Haern followed the gesturing appendage to the rings on his hands. He gulped but took them off—they wouldn't do him any good in a fight against any of them anyway.

The fingers twirled them a bit before they floated out in front of Calridian. "I will improve these for you. You will remain my servant and aid Gerim in these Ire Realms."

"Milord, Gerim?" Eveal whispered, although clearly outraged at being passed over.

"Yes, Eveal. The Ire Realms are, as you reported, devoid of Essence, and you do not possess a magical talent, not like Gerim or… what is your name, little one?"

"Haern," he said.

"Yes, or like Haern. You will continue to serve at my side here. There is much to be done."

Eveal was still discontent, but he swallowed his dissatisfaction expertly and nodded. "Yes, Milord."

"What will be our assignment?" Gerim asked.

Without turning attention from the tinkering he'd started on Haern's rings, Calridian said, "Ready the plane for Consumption. Ready as many mortals as well. I will give you my name and my mark to carry as a beacon. Raise me an army, Gerim."

"Haern." Haern locked up at the sound of his name, not expecting to be called. "You have a mission of your own, in which you will report to Gerim and seek his help when needed."

He nodded. "What mission is that?"

Calridian gestured at a large chest far in the corner of the room, from which a massive ball and chain shackle dangled. In his hands, he demonstrated its ability to shrink and enlarge however he pleased before handing it over.

It was heavy.

"With that, you must, by whatever means, bind, capture, and return Nil to me."

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