I took in a deep breath and flicked the torc on my neck.

  The mana in my body jolted and condensed. My overgrown seeds spun harder. Sucking in mana and sending it to my tissues, organs, and muscles.

  The Reaper's blade in my hand hissed out essence that traveled back into the soul. And for a moment, my clothes began to feel loose. Then they began to tighten around my now shorter form.

  Ilya looked at me in disbelief. She asked, “What are you doing?”

  It was a tactical decision. I was fourteen feet tall. My enemies were five to six feet. Fighting them while looking down at them without reading their body language and their actions was illogical. And slashing them down one by one was impractical. Moreover, I couldn’t leave my legs exposed.

  Even now, I was eight feet tall and stood head and shoulders above the Blighted. I had to be careful fighting these strange creatures. I just hoped they were as stupid as they looked.

  Explaining all that to Ilya while the Blighted shambled towards me was going to take too long.

  I just answered, “Preparing.”

  Ilya grabbed someone next to her and shouted, “Get Grisslow. No, get archers with mundane arrows. Actually, do both. Now!”

  I took my eyes off the battlements of the castle.

  The first few ranks of Blighted had closed the distance between me and them. Their crystal-needled heads locked onto me, and hissing whispers began to drift into my mind.

  “Come to me. Come to me. Come to me,” one called.

  “Mana. Mana. Mana,” another hissed.

  “Mine. Mine. Mine,” a third behind me whispered.

  More turned their heads my way, following the whispers of the others.

  “Voss. Hold on. We will get you out of there soon,” Ilya shouted down to me.

  I cracked my neck and flexed my torso side to side until my spine popped. This was going to be a fast, brutal fight, and I needed to limber up.

  “Good. Good. Smell good,” the one on my left whispered, moving its thick, muscular arms.

  “Hungry. Hungry. So hungry,” one with a female voice cried out while bending its knees.

  I raised my Reaper's blade and held it horizontally, the scythe blade facing outwards.

  “Voss! You can’t fight them alone. You are their perfect prey,” Ilya shouted and began cursing. “You are Manaborn, you numpty. Blight and curses. Get out of there.”

  I lifted my left hand. Essence flowed down my arms and into my hands, creating a film on my palms. My hands began to smoke, and I held the sword's bladed edge in my hand.

  A Reaper's blade was not a weapon that could be used by anyone. It was a tool of a Reaper when they were ready to unleash violence. And when they used it, they used every inch of their weapon. That is why they covered themselves with essence.

  I didn’t have enough essence to do that. But I did have enough to cover my hands.

  Ilya began to speak. “Voss, we have archers coming in. Just...”

  The Blighted with thick, malformed legs shot into action. Its shambling gait was gone. It shot to me, running with loud thudding steps. Others followed the first one. Shooting into action.

  In seconds, there was a horde of enemies bearing down on me from all sides.

  I moved my hands. Grabbing the sword end with both my hands, I spun. The scythe end of the blade whistled through the air. Once, twice, and then cut into the lunging Blighted. It met resistance and went through the neck it had struck.

  The green crystal on the pommel flashed gently. I ignored the light and continued spinning. The scythe made contact again. Parting a torso from its legs. And another ripping open the top part of a skull.

  Two flashes announced two kills, and I moved my hands back to the hilt.

  My left leg came up and pushed a charging Blighted back with a kick. At the same time, my sword struck out, thrusting into an eye socket and ripping out of its head.

  A Blighted lunged at me from behind. I pulled my blade out and hit the top of the sword’s bladed edge. It spun backwards. The scythe spun and bit into a Blighted's jaw, went through the crystal needles on its head, and through its brain.

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  Blood splattered on my face, and I shook it off. My hands moved again. One hand staying on the hilt. The other hand moving to the thick part before the blade. To the ricasso. I spun the blade vertically. Twirling across my body and rotating in place.

  All the while, the Blighted kept whispering in my mind.

  “Kill. Kill. Kill.”

  “Eat. Eaaat. EAAT!”

  “Bite. Bite. Bhakh...”

  I became a whirlwind of destruction. The sword end came down, ripping down on heads and torsos. The scythe ripped apart the Blighted that my sword missed.

  I began to move towards the castle, eliminating Blighted all around me with every step.

  “What in the stars?” Grek cried out from somewhere in the castle.

  “Mouth?” I couldn’t take my eyes off the enemy, but I could speak.

  “Yes, Your Highness.”

  “Great!” Ilya shouted in a frustrated tone. “Grisslow, speak some sense to him.”

  “Your Highness, do you plan to kill them all?” Grek asked.

  “Yes,” I answered while decapitating a muscle-armed Blighted.

  “I said sense,” Ilya screamed at the Punisher Captain.

  “With all due respect, Your Grace. He has killed seven Blighted in as many seconds. There is no sense to anything anymore,” Grek announced.

  “He is one man.” Ilya's voice deflated as she continued. “How is he doing that without using mana?”

  “Skill, maybe?” Grek asked.

  The question wasn’t without merit. I was moving faster than I could normally. I was burning essence with every step, every thrust, and every spin. But the more essence I burnt, the more I ripped away from the Blighted. Half of it was taken away by the world; the other half went to me.

  And slowly, oh so slowly, my pool began to fill again.

  “Speak to me, mouth,” I ordered.

  “Umm… Your Highness?” Grek asked.

  “It helps with the whispers.” I thrust my sword into a throat and ripped it out.

  “Oh, right.” Grek nodded and continued. “So we carried the damned lady to The Church of The Spear and left her with the inquisitor and the priest there. We also left the children there.”

  “Are you seriously going to brief him while he is fighting a horde of Blighted?” Ilya asked in disbelief.

  “Why not the fortress?” I asked.

  “It’s still under siege.” Grek answered my question with an apologetic look to Ilya.

  “Siege?” I asked. My voice gained an edge, and I spun with my scythe out. Ripping heads from bodies.

  “Calm, Your Highness. Lady Saha has an army around her,” Grek said in a calming tone. “And they are just goats.”

  “Goats. Hell goats?” I asked.

  “Yes, there is nothing special about them except for the fire on their horns and the fire they spit.” Grek continued his explanation after a pause. “Your brother has pushed enough mana into the fortress to erect its shield, and everyone is safe in there.”

  “Hmm…”

  “Your Highness. Stay away from the screamers,” Grek said urgently.

  “Screamers?”

  “The ones with mouths on their midsections. They use sound magic to incapacitate and kill.”

  I shuffled back from a screamer and, using my scythe, hooked a Blighted, putting it between me and the opening mouth.

  “WAAA…”

  The Blighted between me and the screamer shook. Its whole body vibrated, and blood started seeping out of its skin.

  “Blight and curses,” I cursed, continuing to spin my sword and scythe. Low and high.

  “Archers! Where are my archers?” Ilya asked after the screamer finished screaming.

  “Here, Your Grace,” someone answered.

  “Don’t just stand there and watch. Take down the lungers and the screamers,” Ilya ordered.

  “Yes, Your Grace.”

  “Voss, focus on the brawlers,” Ilya shouted down to me.

  “The thick-armed ones?”

  “Yes.”

  Twangs announced the launch of arrows. They hit heads and felled enemies around me. I moved my hands and spun. Using my scythe to cleave enemies in a wide circle.

  The crystal pommel began to glow and thrum, feeding essence straight into my soul. And this essence was different. My soul didn’t have to process it. It was perfectly suited to me and went into my pool.

  With essence flowing into me, I began to rampage around. There were no friendlies to watch out for. There were no fireballs to dodge. There were also no Damned to go toe-to-toe with.

  These were simple cursed creatures, and they were easy to kill.

  I swung my weapon left and right. Splitting, cleaving, and at times hacking the enemy until the ground squelched with blood and ripped-apart limbs.

  I did not know when or how, but I suddenly found myself looking at a wall.

  I blinked and looked up. I saw Ilya and Grek looking down at me. I turned back and saw a lot fewer Blighted than there had been.

  “Tired?” Ilya asked.

  I panted and nodded.

  “Finally.” Ilya threw down a rope ladder and ordered, “Get up here.”

  I shook my head. “There are more Blighted to harvest.”

  “Harvest?” Ilya asked, and then turned to look at Grek. She asked the Punisher, “What does he mean by harvest?”

  I took in a long breath and changed the topic. “How did you end up here?”

  Ilya growled and looked away. “Not now.”

  “Sister?” I turned and looked at Ilya looking down at me from the battlements.

  Ilya put her hands on her lips and gritted her teeth. “It was that Blighted Damned lord. The one they called Agat.”

  Ilya hissed the name and asked, “Happy?”

  Grek continued. “Your Highness, we brought in some reinforcements and chased him to this castle in the catacombs. He used artifacts to portal himself and his people out and pull in these Blighted.”

  I sighed and raised my weapon back up again. There were more creatures to kill and a lot of essence to harvest.

  “Voss. That is not all.” Ilya exhaled loudly. “He also brought in Baz. That Damned and his army are looking for you. He wants to kill you in revenge for killing the Damned matriarch.”

  I shrugged. “Let them come.”

  Ilya stopped me. “No, Voss. You don’t get it. He brought in an army. An army of Damned, Mana-blessed, and mages.”

  I lowered my weapon. “Mages?”

  “Yes. They are Agat’s people on loan to Baz. There are around fifty Damned and seven mages.”

  Ilya frowned. “And they are hunting you.”

  I looked past Ilya at the soldiers on the battlements. “How many mages do we have?”

  “Two. You and me.” Ilya looked down at me.

  “And soldiers?”

  “Twenty.”

  “Well, it could have been worse,” I shrugged.

  “How?”

  I smiled. “It could have been Sage and you.”

  “He is not that bad, you know?” Ilya frowned down at me.

  “Really? What if one of them turned out to be an elf?” I raised my eyebrows and smiled.

  Ilya snorted and continued in a softer tone, “Get up here. Drink some water. Eat something. You have not had anything to eat for over a day now.”

  My stomach growled at the sound of food, and I made my weapon disappear back into my soul.

  It would be there when I needed it, and it looked like I would need it soon. Right now, food sounded like a blessing.