Cyan energy pooled around my hands. I waved them in a motion, forming the basic structure of my summon. "Ratking, it is time to protect." I named the defender and ordered him to obey. Will and energy surged inside and around me. The image of my first summon was as clear as the tree I stood on. It was so real in my mind's eye that I could feel its presence. With one more push of mana, I forced the Ratking into existence.

The rat monster was twice the size of a large bugbear and three times as ugly. It looked just as it did in my mental palace. The moment of amazement didn't last a breath. My summon vanished in an instant, dropping to the ground. I reached out with a tether of mana and caught the ice monster just before it crashed. It wasn't my best moment. Although it certainly wasn't my worst.

DING!

New skill learned: Monster Summons.

Calypso's message was a nice celebration. I had gained a new skill, and it was powerful, not so much because of the skill itself. It was a mixture of my splits' efforts and the grueling training that happened in my mindscape at all times. Ratking and the rest of my monsters weren't just whimsical summons. They were as real as my splits were… and they were powerful. The one drawback was that they were mana-intensive.

Summoning Ratking came at a cost. It was roughly ten percent of my mana for the initial summon and then a constant drain on my core until it was unsummoned. Cult did some quick calculations and figured that six was the optimal number of summons for my current level.

Five summons later, my squad of ice monsters was complete. Standing at the head of the pack was Ratking—a summoner-type of monster meant to pull attention with his rat minions. In my mindscape, he could create thousands of his rats. In the physical realm, he'd be much more limited with his ability… maybe only a hundred or so. The Ratking already had a dozen of his minions.

The five other summons were all depth terrors. Monsters formed from the deep black abyss. They stalked forward on razor-sharp, bladed legs, their movements fast and predatory. Their bodies were long and skeletal. Unnatural angles shimmered in the dim light. Black mist hissed from their jagged exterior, giving the impression that the abyss still clung to them. Malice radiated from their presence; their safety had been disturbed, and there would be a price to pay.

Each of the five assassins was named before being summoned. I called them by name and gave them an order.

"Kel, Fang, and Slag, kill the sleepers marked with the black dots." Information shared between us from Cal made for quick planning. "Grit and Brim, target the healers marked by the gold dots. Ratking, attack." After giving the initial commands, I left the rest to my split. Fender was more than capable.

Cal updated his mapping in real time, giving me accurate information every second. From my tree, I watched as rats and assassins converged on the party of Jesters. Judging by the reduced rate of potions Betty tossed, I arrived in time. She only needed to last a moment longer.

Kel, Fang, and Slag attacked first, as planned. They didn't so much run as they did pool. Like puddles seeping into the ground and appearing where they were needed. In the forest, they were practically invisible. As rats charged, drawing the attention of the Jesters, the terrors formed behind the sleepers and executed them.

I drew my arrows at this point and fired at the bloomer not targeted by a terror. More rats rushed onto the field. As the assassin blew the weak minions to bits, they didn't notice that a significant portion of their support had been eliminated. I fired a few more arrows at prominent fighters before repositioning. The Ratking sent the last of his rat minions before retreating into the forest. His next goal was to get to the downed sleepers if he could. The terrors were to hide and attack, becoming the new distraction.

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Almost forgotten in the battle, Betty surged with golden energy. With the return of her mana, she was able to create more potions, which she could throw into the fight. Her barrier was renewed, and she consumed a potion, turning her into a wispy figure. She called it spirit form.

The mix of potions, Terrors, rats, arrows, and reanimated sleepers turned the tide of battle. We had the Jesters on their heels. So much so that a few of them looked like they wanted to bolt. However, as the numbers consolidated, the battle became fiercer. Only the strong were left.

With my summons active, I barely had enough strength to push my domain out a few feet in front of me. It didn't matter at the beginning of the fight because I was taking potshots from a distance like a strategic coward. The rats and my terrors did the heavy lifting as I ran from cover to cover. It was almost like I was back fighting with a squad. Chaos was my advantage.

That advantage withered away. My shots were blocked by domains, shields, and barriers. My rats were slaughtered, and my assassins rendered practically useless by the sages. The reanimated sleepers were the first to go down.

I recouped about seventy percent of my invested mana as the last of my minions fell. Water mana spread out as I asserted my domain. The sages were strong, but my domain was stronger. The battlefield dropped in temperature. Icicles formed on leaves, and the ground had a crunch to it. Stillness, like the cold hands of winter, gripped the enemies within.

Opposing mana was smothered, limiting the sages to their internal power. The assassins were not intimidated. They were sages, and they had the numbers, experience, and overall control. Betty's potions did nothing to hinder them, and I had to intervene to block a killing blow aimed at her. The witch stopped attacking at that point, focusing on support and survival. That left four of us to fight with mana, blades, pistols, spears, and axes.

Stone and fire were thrown at me. I cut the boulder apart with my sword and quelled the fireball with a wave of water. Ice and water sliced and stabbed at the casters. To my left, a barbarian creeper harried me with his axes. Time dilation saved me from being chopped to bits. I slid out of his reach and dodged the spears thrown by the second grounder, attacked the smoker with sword and pistol, and returned to Betty's side. I followed the current of battle, letting my instincts and senses direct my flow.

The sages threw everything they had at Betty and me. I blocked it all and countered with more ferocity. Water razors kept the sages under their covers, allowing me to anchor and maneuver them as I pleased. I pulled, pushed, fought, and fired at them from every angle. They fought to the bitter end, dying one by one. The smoker was the first to die, shot in the head. I killed a grounder by severing her body. The other grounder took too many ice shard injuries, froze, then shattered as I used the block of ice to batter the barbarian. The creeper and I exchanged swords. He was better. I was faster and had more power.

Speed and power won.

"Kip… What in Selene's Pits…"

"I wanted to ask you the same."

"How? Nevermind. You need to go. I am trying to buy you time."

"Betty, I can't leave you behind."

"This is not real."

"It is to me."

"Kip."

"I can't."

Our conversation died. Stubbornness and lack of words to blame. For a moment, Betty's shoulders sagged. She let out a breath that sounded too tired for someone still standing. Her barrier flickered, and her hand gripped an empty potion vial a second longer than needed. "Thanks," she muttered, almost too soft to hear.

Our breather didn't last long. A terrifying cyan energy headed our way. The power of the water mana felt anything but peaceful. It wasn't a gentle river. It was the waterfall. Roaring. Crashing. We were a boat in a stormy sea. No paddle, rudder, or sail. The wave was coming.

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