The dog was a black arrow flying straight at them. No growling, no barking, none of that unsteady, jerky motion Derek was used to seeing in zombie holofilms.

  Yuki used to hide behind a pillow during those scenes. Then she'd get pissed at him for making her watch that crap.

  A label flickered onto NOVA’s display above the creature’s head.

  **Level Iron 6**

  A flash of heat and light. Derek squinted as a fireball blazed through the air toward the dog.

  The undead creature didn’t even try to dodge. The fiery blast struck it head-on, launching it backward like a chunk of molten rock flung from a volcano.

  It hit the ground with a muffled thud, rolled a couple of times, then came to a stop. A flaming heap of flesh and fur.

  Derek frowned. No health bar beneath the level indicator. No way to tell if Tunga’s hit had finished the job.

  Isabelle drew her sword in one smooth motion. White sparks crackled along the edge of the blade. She stepped toward the burning body. “It’s not over. Stay back.”

  The charred mess began to twitch.

  Tunga’s magical flames still clung to its form. The shaman kept his staff raised and his eyes narrowed to slits. He was still feeding power into the fire, keeping it alive. A bead of sweat trickled down his temple.

  He looked determined to burn that thing down to nothing but ash.

  Isabelle reached the creature just as it staggered back onto its four legs. Tunga’s fire was sputtering out now. Most of the flesh had burned away, and the stench of scorched meat and rot was already leaking into NOVA’s filtration system.

  Derek could’ve blocked the smell, but he didn’t. He wanted to experience everything. Every scent could be a clue to understanding what allowed that ruined body to keep moving.

  Isabelle swept her blade in a low, horizontal arc. “Face the power of Orbisar, abomination!”

  A sharp crack rang out, like a thick branch snapping in half and the dog’s head flew clean off its body. It landed several meters away with a dull thud on the damp grass.

  The body stayed upright, legs locked in place. It shuddered from the magical static still coursing through it, but refused to fall.

  Not a single drop of blood seeped from the gaping wound.

  No blood pressure. No body temperature.

  Now no head.

  And still it stood.

  Isabelle stepped back and glanced at Tunga. The shaman gave a curt nod and raised his staff once more.

  A second fireball slammed into the corpse, this time knocking it to the ground for good.

  Isabelle walked up beside it, squinting through the flames. She inhaled deeply, raised her massive sword high, and brought it down in a brutal vertical slash.

  The creature’s torso split in half, sending burning chunks in opposite directions.

  The Warden stared silently at the remains as the flames devoured what was left.

  “Is it still moving?” Tunga asked, staff still aimed, face tight with focus.

  Isabelle shook her head. “Seems not.”

  Tunga lowered his staff and the fire died out almost instantly.

  No notification appeared on the HUD. Maybe because the thing was already dead? Or maybe because Derek hadn’t landed a single hit? He still knew damn little about how this insane world worked.

  He stepped closer to the charred remains. NOVA’s armored boots sank deep into the soft, wet grass. “Vanda, analyze that carcass. Any signs of energy or other activity?”

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  “Yes, Derek. I’m detecting a weak energy field still active inside.”

  His stomach clenched. “Is it about to attack again?”

  “No.” Tunga’s voice was raspy and calm. “We far from the sphere that woke it.”

  Derek blinked. “You’re telling me that if we were closer to where the Life sphere landed…”

  Isabelle sheathed her sword with a sharp motion. “If we were near its power source, it’d be pulling itself back together right now just so it could chase us again. Like I said, break them into very small pieces. If they’re small enough, the sphere’s power can’t reassemble them.”

  Derek made a face and kicked the carcass. The dog’s hindquarters tumbled into a nearby bush. “Tunga was right. There are zombies down there. At least they don’t seem too tough. We can handle them. If they get up, we knock them back down.” He smirked. “Pretty sure it takes us less time to shred them than it takes them to reassemble. Am I wrong?”

  He looked at Tunga. Then at Isabelle.

  Neither returned the smile.

  Isabelle cleared her throat. “Derek, it’s really important that you understand what we’re walking into.”

  He frowned. “Am I missing something here?”

  “Yes,” she said. “We’re not about to face a lone stray dog, far from the sphere. We’re heading into a horde of undead that are nearly impossible to put down. Not permanently, at least. This isn’t a mission where we go in, kill the monsters, and save the city. It’s a search and rescue. We go in, we find Alyra, and we get out. And if we’re lucky, we avoid ending up undead ourselves. Are we clear?”

  Derek sighed. “Got it. Low profile. No classic Derek bullshit.”

  Isabelle nodded.

  “What about Sierelith?” Derek asked. “What are you planning to do with our little heretic spy?”

  Isabelle didn’t answer right away. Her face was unreadable, but her hands had curled into fists. A vein throbbed at her temple. Only after a long moment did she speak, her voice sharp as a blade. “She’s not coming with us, Derek.”

  He nodded slowly. So that’s how it was. Kill her on sight and leave her body wandering through Ebonshade with the rest of the corpses.

  Praise be to Orbisar’s mercy.

  That was not acceptable. He crossed his arms. “Then we’ve got a problem. And we’re settling it now.”

  Isabelle’s jaw tightened. “Derek, she kidnapped Alyra!”

  “Bullshit,” he said, deadpan. “You’ve been wanting to off her long before that.”

  Isabelle lifted her chin slightly, brow furrowed. “What does it matter what my reasons are? She kidnapped Alyra, didn’t she? She has to pay.”

  Derek nodded. “Yeah, she did. She took her and put her in danger, and if I could, I’d smack some sense into her.”

  Isabelle clenched a fist. “We’re well beyond a teenager’s prank. This was a crime against a Novice of the Church, committed by a heretic.”

  “She’s just a girl, Isabelle. Christ, what the hell is wrong with this messed-up planet? She’s just trying to impress her father, the supreme leader of the faction your precious Church is at war with. You have no idea the crap I pulled as a kid just to get my old man’s attention.”

  Isabelle snorted through her nose like an angry bull. “She insulted all of us. She mocked the Church and High Priestess Uriela in front of the entire Council!”

  “So did I, Isabelle! I did the exact same thing! Why aren’t you trying to kill me too?”

  The Warden dropped her gaze. Her lips pressed into a thin line. “You two have more in common than I thought…” she whispered. “Maybe that’s why you’re defending her.”

  Derek rolled his eyes. “No, Isabelle. I’m defending her because she’s just a confused girl—while you’re all getting ready to kill her like you just did with that damn dog.”

  “That dog was already dead…” Tunga muttered with a disapproving grunt.

  Derek rolled his eyes again. “Thanks, Tunga. Glad to see you’re laser-focused on the real point here.”

  “I know you don’t want to hear this, Derek,” Isabelle said softly. “But whether you like it or not, you’re our Cashnar. What you do is part of Orbisar’s will. If He chose you, it’s because you were meant to…” she gestured vaguely, “do what you do. Sierelith, on the other hand, is just a heretic. A heretic who tricked the whole Council, our Cashnar, and even…” she bit her tongue.

  “…and even you,” Derek finished. “You’re mad because she fooled you. That’s it, isn’t it?”

  Isabelle stared off into the distance, refusing to meet his eyes. “No. It has nothing to do with that.”

  “I like that girl,” Tunga said, nodding thoughtfully. “She’d make a fine shaman.”

  Isabelle glared at him.

  Derek stepped up to her, stopping less than a meter away. With a hiss, he removed his helmet, letting the jungle’s hot, damp air smack him in the face like a wet towel. “Listen to me, Isabelle. You’re right—I hate being called the Cashnar. But since you brought it up, let’s be crystal clear.”

  He grabbed her chin with a gauntleted hand and forced her to look him in the eye.

  She stared back at him, jaw clenched.

  “The Ebonshade mission is a recovery op, just like you said. If they’re still alive, we’re bringing both Alyra and Sierelith back to Rothmere. Safe. Unharmed.”

  She didn’t flinch.

  “That’s an order from your Cashnar, Warden of Narkhara. What’s your answer?”

  She shook her head. “Derek, she already kidnapped Alyra. Who knows what she’ll do next—”

  “What’s your answer?” Derek cut in.

  She opened her mouth, then shut it. After a pause, she gave a stiff nod. “As you command, Cashnar.”

  Derek nodded, released her chin, and took a step back. His lips curled into a faint smile. “Good. Glad I won’t have to send you back to Rothmere.”

  She didn’t smile back. “You admire her, don’t you?”

  He frowned. “What?”

  “I trained my whole life for this. First in the novices’ class, then among Uriela’s elite. I earned the title of Warden through sheer effort. No favors. No shortcuts.”

  “What does that have to do with—”

  “I had a vision, Derek. Orbisar showed me the way. That’s why I left the soldiers behind and took the refugees alone. Because that was His will.” She cleared her throat, voice trembling. “I know you think I’m crazy. You’re not the only one.”

  A nervous laugh escaped her lips. Her eyes glistened. “Many of my men think the same. That I broke down. Lost it. But I believed in that vision, and I followed it. My first mission as Warden, and I risked everything to follow what Orbisar showed me.”

  Derek swallowed again, but his mouth was dry. He thought he was ready for anything. He wasn’t ready for that.

  How could he have known she felt that way?

  Or maybe… he did know. And didn’t care.

  Hadn’t cared about anyone in years.

  Not even himself.

  The whole Cashnar thing was a joke to him. So it had to be a joke to everyone else, right?

  But Isabelle, she’d been trying to show him how much it meant. Again and again. In every possible way.

  And he’d mocked her for it. Every single time.

  “Isabelle, I... I swear I…” The words died in his throat. What was he even trying to say? A lie to make her feel better? Another jab at her faith?

  She stared at him, eyes shining.

  Derek drew a sharp breath and forced the words out. Rough, scraping, like rusted metal jammed in his throat. “Isabelle, you’re…” He swallowed again. “You’re the first person I’ve trusted since Yuki died. If that means anything to you.”

  He looked down.

  That was all he had.

  He was just a man. Or what was left of one.

  If she wanted anything more, he couldn’t give it.

  When he looked up, she was kneeling before him.

  She held her sword with the blade down, offering the hilt. “I will be your sword, Cashnar. Now and always.”

  Derek gently pushed the sword aside, grabbed Isabelle’s arm, and helped her to her feet.

  She stared at him, confused.

  “Isabelle, I don’t need a sword.” He gave a faint smile. “I need a friend. If you’re okay having one as screwed up as me.”

  She stared at him, mouth slightly open. Speechless.

  Tunga shook his head. “City people are weird.”

  Derek smiled. “You’re not wrong, shaman.”

  “Derek, multiple life forms approaching,” said Vanda. “The Repair Bots are sending telemetry now.”

  Derek gulped. “Why’s it taking so long?”

  “Seems like a lot of data at once. There—should be loading onto your mini-map any second now.”

  Derek slid his helmet back on. Lights and HUD elements came online like a Christmas tree.

  And in the corner—his mini-map.

  A red haze surrounded them. Except it wasn’t haze.

  It was dots.

  Dozens of red dots.

  So many they blurred into one.

  “Maximum energy to weapons,” Derek said. With a loud clang, his plasma cannons deployed.

  “What’s happening?” Isabelle asked, sword already drawn.

  Derek swallowed hard. “While we were… busy, looks like they surrounded us. Whole damn Ebonshade decided to roll out the red carpet.”