We took positions on the rooftops, soldiers and citizens alike. I’d interspersed our numbers, making our soldiers ready to fight in close proximity to those we had not yet recruited. I wanted them to create a bond, hoping that would increase the number of new recruits we walked away with.

  Dawn had become midday, and midday had become early afternoon. The sky had brightened slightly, and we’d been given a short reprieve from snowfall. Instead, the low winter sun illuminated the low-hanging mist, minimising our visibility. For that reason, I’d put soldiers all around the city, all within range of a portal relay, so if anyone saw the bogspawn, we’d know about it quickly.

  I cringed at the thought of the enemy. Bogspawns weren’t just powerful creatures, but were, honestly, completely disgusting too. They were monsters formed of the remaining “parts” of dead animals, those that were buried in the wilderness and then bled out of reality itself. At least, that was what Val had told me. I didn’t know too much about how this edge of reality worked, only that our world was thin in certain areas—the Badlands in particular—and occasionally, things fell out of it. We’d seen this edge of reality picked at, back in the witchfinder village, and it was the same methodology that the Council were using in their ritual to create their new world.

  There was another time we’d seen beyond reality, I remembered. Back during the siege of Sunalor, the Dawnwood’s master of Alteration had given his life to protect his city. He’d opened a portal, just like I was capable of, except he’d opened one of its ends into the true void—the great nothingness beyond our reality. This endless portal had taken Debayur’s life, but it had dealt untold damage to the enemy.

  ‘You OK?’ Lore asked. He was on the rooftop next to me—one of the highest in Lauricium, one which afforded us a good view of the city at large. He had breadcrumbs in his stubble. ‘You look tired.’

  ‘That’ll be because I’m bloody exhausted, yeah.’

  ‘You should get more sleep. Not, like, right now, but generally.’

  ‘I’ll sleep after we’ve won,’ I said, then nodding to the rooftops around us. ‘Keep your eyes on the city.’

  Lauricium was eerily silent. Most of the locals were still in their homes, hiding from the monstrosity that had been tormenting them for the past few days. Only the bravest—or most fed up with cowering in fear—were willing to join the fight. We’d been promised that the bogspawn fed in Lauricium both day and night, and so it was only a matter of time before it emerged from the low, rocky hills that surrounded the city.

  We waited with bated breaths, and our patience was eventually rewarded.

  ‘It’s here,’ one of the soldiers whispered through the relays. ‘Stalking down the north street.’

  The bogspawn prowled along the main street below me, its shadow cast long by the low winter sun. This bogspawn’s shape was close to that of a direcat, treading on four legs with a long, winding tail. Its head was that of a stag, still complete with antlers, though these prongs were more complete on one side than the other. On its back were rotting wings, though thankfully they were too small to support the beast’s weight—it wouldn’t fly. Thank the gods for small mercies.

  The problem was its health. We needed to land hundreds of attacks at once to bring it down quickly. If we didn’t, then it would strike out before it died, and many of my soldiers would fall with it. The best option for keeping our distance from the creature was, naturally, my portals, but I knew from my previous encounter with one of these monsters that this advantage would be short-lived. Before long, it would adapt, and it would learn to avoid my portals.

  So I let everyone get in position, even opening some portals to gather my soldiers from the farthest reaches of the city. Soldiers and citizens alike crouched on the rooftops, ranged weapons or heavy objects at the ready, waiting for my signal.

  Below, the bogspawn prowled onward, its eyes scouring the streets for prey, never bothering to look upwards because it had no natural predators. It was not used to being on the defensive. It came to an abrupt stop, its eyes widening as it saw its prize—an elderly man who’d been shuffling down the street, simply in the wrong place at the wrong time.

  It forced my hand. ‘Now!’ I roared.

  Over a hundred soldiers and locals rose to peer over the edge of their rooftops, and as one, they attacked.

  The bogspawn howled with pain as arrows landed and stones and tools and other objects pelted it from above. We’d dealt a lot of damage in the space of five seconds. We’d also dealt nowhere near enough. The creature whipped its head up to face the rooftops, and it pounced. It leaped onto the side of the building, and was nimble enough to use the wall as a jumping-off point.

  When the soldiers on the building opposite realised it was about to leap towards them, most of them—to their credit—held their ground. Considering that they didn’t know I was about to open a portal to keep the bogspawn away, that was pretty good courage on their part.

  The portal opened between bogspawn and prey, and as it was in mid-air, the monster could not manoeuvre around it. It plunged straight through the portal and out the other side, which just so happened to be in the sky, a long, long way above the city. With no wings to carry it, it was going to be hitting the ground hard. If that didn’t go a long way towards killing it, then—

  Up above, the bogspawn splayed its limbs, revealing big sheets of flesh between limbs and abdomen. It may not have been able to fly, but it could glide.

  And I’d just launched it into the sky.

  ‘Err… Styk?’ Lore asked.

  ‘I know, I know!’ I looked to the other rooftops. ‘Swords and spears, to me!’ The creature would have to land at some point—it only made sense that it would land on top of two dozen blades. I’d just need to make sure it landed in the right spot. But how?

  Easy, I realised. I’d bring the creature down just as it had gone up—with portals. ‘Lore,’ I said, ‘get them ready, their swords high. I’m gonna drop the bogspawn on you.’

  Most people would have replied, ‘No, don’t do that, I don’t want a creature made from dead animals—some of them still rotting—dropped on me, I just got this shirt clean.’ To Lore’s credit, though, he just nodded.

  This meant I could focus on the job at hand. I peered up into the misty sky, looking for the dark shape, and found it instantly. Even with the low visibility, the creature stood out against the light grey. I glanced to Lore to make sure he and his fellow swordsmen were ready, and then I flicked my wrist and created a pair of portals.

  I missed. The bogspawn was gliding down slowly, and still far enough away that my aim was a bit off. It didn’t even need to change its route to avoid plunging into the sword points. And maybe I was giving the game away.

  I tried again, opening a portal in front of the gliding monstrosity but placing it far enough in front that the creature was able to turn sharply to the right to avoid it. The creature’s side hit the edge of the portal, sending it tumbling over on one side and—without its gliders—plummeting to the ground. I knew now that, unlike the corrupted soldiers, this creature was still in this reality enough to be considered alive; I couldn’t simply cut it in two with my portals. Plan B was out, but plan A was alive and kicking.

  Stolen story; please report.

  Before the bogspawn could right itself and begin gliding once more, I opened another pair of portals. This time, the creature fell straight through, and I heard the increasingly familiar sound of swords cutting flesh.

  Lore and soldiers scattered as the beast landed on them, most losing their weapons in the process. At the same moment, the bogspawn cried out in pain, dozens of lacerations beginning to ooze. Though severely weakened, it was still standing, and over a dozen of my soldiers now stood unarmed in its near vicinity.

  On a whim, I channeled Debayur, opening a portal behind the monster for less than a second, and willing the portal’s partner to exist outside of this reality. The weakened bogspawn’s claws etched into the roof tiles as it was sucked into the true void, and though the portal was open for only a blink of an eye, I felt myself being pulled in.

  I felt the void entering my soul. I felt just as I had when the Sisyphus Artifact had brought me back from corruption, and yet I felt—or perhaps knew—that I wouldn’t escape it. Darkness engulfed me. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t hear. I couldn’t sense anything of the world. It felt as though time had stopped. It felt—

  Lore was standing over me, shaking me, tears flowing freely down his cheeks.

  I gasped for air, as though I hadn’t breathed for a minute, and wondering how and when I’d come to be lying down. ‘The bogspawn,’ I asked through heavy breaths, ‘is it…’

  ‘It’s dead,’ Lore said, his voice quiet. ‘And so were you.’ The kill notification—and resulting Worldbending level-up—confirmed the first half of that, at least.

  I pushed on the roof tiles to stagger back to my feet, and noticed those soldiers around me were oddly quiet too. Had the void eaten at them too? Had they felt even an ounce of what I had? It would be enough to explain it.

  ‘Good,’ I said quietly, and then repeated myself at a shout. ‘Good. Good work everyone! We defeated a bogspawn, and freed Lauricium from its reign of terror. That’s not a small victory. I’ve seen a bogspawn devour a Player, of all people. That we’ve defeated one with only a small part of our army gives us hope. It means we really do stand a chance in the battle still to come!’

  The soldiers were initially hesitant to react, but after a few moments, one of the locals started clapping us, and before long, my soldiers were patting each other on the backs—literally, in many cases—and smiling about a job well done. And it was a job well done; they’d stood their ground and taken down a much more powerful beast than I would have had them face. The gambit had paid off—how could our army failed to feel better about our chances now that we’d have a proven victory? And how could the people of Lauricium not join us, after what we’d just saved them from?

  Yet Lore was still pale; this had been too close a fight for comfort, apparently. ‘It’s all good, big guy,’ I said, clapping him around the shoulder. ‘We did it. We won. That really is a big victory for us, I wasn’t just saying that.’

  ‘No. I mean, yeah. It was.’ Lore shook his head. ‘It’s not that.’

  ‘Then what?’ I asked.

  ‘You… died. And you didn’t have your artifact. I thought we’d lost you. I didn’t know how I was going to… I didn’t know how I was gonna explain that to Val.’

  I waved my hand dismissively. ‘I didn’t die. Not properly, though it might have been close. I just touched the void beyond, and I think it sapped on my life force for a second. I won’t be trying that again, don’t worry.’

  Still, Lore was pale; he didn’t seemed satisfied by this explanation. ‘No, Styk, I don’t think you understand. You didn’t just die. You were dead for ten minutes.’

  Ah.