Spinning his essence crucible as fast as he could, Tristan slammed his fist into the ground. “Ich beschw?re eine Wand aus Eis herauf.” (I summon forth a wall of ice). He saw the ice begin to grow and pushed his essence down his channel as hard as he could. The sparks of crimson, gold, black, and icy-blue cascaded along the silver torrent and he began to feel winded as the wall grew to cover the whole space, and then he focused on thickening it.

  The Archon stood just behind him, and Tristan heard him speaking in Heaven’s Voice, which he did not know, so instead of trying to pay attention to what the Archon was doing, Tristan focused on the threats beyond the ice wall. And to his shock and growing dread, the rift expanded horizontally.

  Letting the spell fade, he pushed the essence that was going down his channels into his armor and weapon. The suit of segmented plate and chainmail grew to encompass his whole form as the helmet rose up to cover him fully in the protective shell. The weapon in his grip expanded and grew in length, and he raised his voice. “Felicity! Vie hevoset pois!” (Incoming! Felicity! Get the horses far away!).

  He could barely hear her distant response. “Sain sen!” (Got it!).

  The Archon’s voice was completely drowned out by overlapping shrieking and howls from beyond the rift. The cloud of demon bats drew closer, and Tristan got his first good look at the creatures from the front. They looked like usual bats, but their wingspan varied from five feet from tip to tip, all the way out to twenty feet.

  Then, as he tracked the mob, he saw a pack of wolf-like creatures with slavering mouths that were lined with crooked, crimson teeth that sizzled with a black smoke that dripped from them.

  “Archon! Hurry up!” Tristan shouted as he glanced back at the man.

  The man gave Tristan a hard look but said nothing outside of continuing his chant. He did begin backing off to the gate, and Tristan shook his head as the man retreated. These people might not be my people, Tristan thought, – but if I can help, I have to try. It’s what grandfather would try and do.

  “The very weapons you use to rend and tear are mine to use,” he whispered, and his hands shifted and warped into draconic claws. He used those to clamber up the ice wall until he was standing atop it. The tide of demon bats and wolves was almost upon him, and he pushed his essence into the king's favor around his neck. “Arrêt!” (stop!), he shouted out.

  As one, the wolves and bats ceased moving – holding still in place. Tristan felt his essence dwindling, and knew the command would only last for a short time. He jumped off the ten-foot-high wall, rolled to his feet, and ran to join the Archon at the gate. It began to shut, and he slipped inside before it closed entirely.

  Tristan clambered up the ladder nearby, and figured his Disguise Form spell had faded based upon the gasps he heard. Ignoring those, he pointed his sword, “They will come through soon! Call everyone to arms! Get everyone else inside and barricade the entrances!”

  A large man in ill-fitting armor stomped over, “Who’re you to order us-”

  Tristan turned and glowered at the man, “Listen to me or die; I’ll survive no matter what happens.” He turned to face the oncoming horde, “Get in position! Archers, eyes on the skies – everyone else, spears! These walls stand no chance of holding if we don’t kill them as they come up!”

  The man behind him huffed and walked away. Tristan focused his whole attention on the rift that was now easily fifty feet across and just as tall. He could see a shadowy, humanoid shape behind the wolves, and it shouted a command in Demon’s Tongue. “En avant, mes sbires ! Nous prenons le Royaume des Mortels pour Duberceix!” (Forward, minions! We take the Mortal Realm for Duberceix!).

  As one, the bats stopped their flapping and rushed through the rift, and the wolves surged forward – around the ice wall like it was a rock in the middle of a river. “Archers!” Tristan shouted, “Fire at will!”

  They began loosing crossbow bolts, but Tristan could not focus on the skies as he saw the rush of the wolf creatures approaching. His blade with its extra length thanks to the artificed spell would be the equivalent of a spear for stabbing purposes, and he stood at the top of the wall as he spun his essence crucible to keep fueling his two items. The smoke-filled air of the Demon Realm began to ooze outward as the massive humanoid stalked towards the rift. Easily twenty feet tall, ten feet wide at the shoulders, and dressed in deep, black plate armor.

  Tristan had no idea what it was, and he could not focus on it as he tore his attention away and towards the wolves that began to run at the wall, tilt and jump, and ran slightly up into waiting spear points. Tristan joined the stationed soldiers that were stabbing down, but the wolves started to pile on top of each other, and he could let out sweeping slashes instead of stabs to hit multiple foes at once.

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  He felt a rush of wind near his head and ducked down as a demon bat tried to swoop at him. The movement forced him to step away from the edge of the wall, and he was able to take stock of the situation for a moment. Guards were holding the wall against the dumb creatures, but the numbers were vast, and he knew they would be overwhelmed. Glancing down, he saw the Archon still muttering and waving his hands in complicated gestures.

  Tristan made eye contact with the man and knew that he had to buy more time. If there’s one thing that could save us from this tide, he thought as the wolves began to crest the wall en-masse and the guards were forced to swap to swords, I can issue a challenge.

  The Demon Realm was full of proud, arrogant creatures who valued strength of arms. If this huge, humanoid demon controlled these wolves and bats, then maybe Tristan could buy some time for the town to evacuate and the Archon to finish his spell, hidden from the creature’s eyes by the wall.

  Rushing forward, Tristan cut through the wolves and got atop the wall, “Je vous défie en combat singulier!” (I challenge you to single combat!).

  The demonic humanoid got to the frost wall and walked around it, running an armored, gauntleted hand that was the size of Tristan’s body along the top of the fortification. “Un elfe ? Je n'ai pas acquis une de vos fourrures pour mon chateau. J'accepte. Minions, reculez!” (An elf? I have not acquired one of your pelts for my castle. I accept. Minions, back off!).

  The bats that were swirling overhead and started to descend into the town pulled back and became a cloud in the skies above the creature, darkening the sun and dropping the whole battlefield into darkness. The wolves, likewise, returned to packs that circled around the demon’s legs, before he shooed them further back towards the ice wall.

  Tristan dug his clawed hand into the wall as he slid down, rolling as he landed, and began to approach the enormous humanoid. Taking stock of his essence, he felt some dismay. I’m running low. I need my essence elixirs. But Felicity is gone with the horses. He shook his head. If I kill this thing, the animals can be controlled with a Thrice Command using the cloak.

  He let the essence flow fade, as his sword shrank, and his armor receded. Speaking as loudly as he could and filling his voice with authority, he spoke; “Je suis Tristan Winterbloom. Tu n'es pas le bienvenu dans ce royaume. Retourne ou tu meurs!” (I am Tristan Winterbloom. You are not welcome in this Realm. Go back, or die!).

  The demon cackled as it reached behind itself and drew forth a massive chain with a spiked ball on one end. The ball was easily Tristan’s size, and each spike was the length of his arm. A single hit, Tristan knew, would kill him outright. I have to dodge; he thought as he approached at a run. Rush him, get close, don’t let him use his superior range!

  This was not a dragon he was fighting, but some of the principles applied. It had more reach than him, so getting within close proximity would increase his survivability, and enable him to strike it. But the demon humanoid finished spinning the spiked ball, stepped on the chain, and it rocketed forward almost faster than Tristan could track.

  But he wasn’t looking at the weapon, he had focused on the ice wall behind the thing, and his peripheral vision let him react faster than focusing on the incoming attack would – just as his grandfather had taught him. He slid on his knees along the dry grass as the spiked ball lashed out over his head, and he rolled to his left as he anticipated the retraction of the ball and chain.

  To his satisfaction, the demon did in fact pull the ball and chain back, and the ground was gouged where Tristan had slid. He got back to his feet and kept running forward, and an odd sound reached his ears. Cheering from behind him as he closed the distance.

  “Go get him!”

  “Kill the thing!”

  “Gods above, did you see that dodge?!”

  Tristan felt his confidence build up and dodged the next strike from the ball and chain; ducking it once more and rolling to the right as the spiked ball was dragged back. He’s tried the same move twice, Tristan thought as he almost got into the demon’s arm’s reach. Which means he is going to be switching up his attacks for close range. If I were using it- he envisioned the creature choking up on the chain to have the spiked ball much closer and using it almost as a mace.

  And his instinct was right on point as the demon choked up its grip and swung down. Tristan halted as the object thudded into the ground right in front of him, and he got a foot onto it between some of the spikes, kicking up and off to get height. Enough height to slice down into the demon’s arm. His weapon cut through the hide and hit the bone, bouncing off.

  The thing roared out in pain and brought its other fist around – wrapped in a chain. Tristan got the flat of his blade in the way, but the impact sent him flying to the side as he went rolling, tumbling, end over end in the dirt. He felt something crunch in his torso and the wind left him as he struggled to suck in breaths.

  The thing cackled and began to swing its chain around again. Tristan felt something grab his face, and as he struggled to breathe, saw Felicity. “Drink!”

  Tristan did so, and he spun his essence crucible in both directions as he activated his armor. He felt the soothing warmth of the healing elixir kick in and felt the essence floating into the crucible that he spun into the armor. Felicity poured tons of the liquid into his mouth, and then flapped away. “Roll!”

  The enormous, spiked ball slammed down where he had been laying, prone. The elixir restored the hole in his lungs from his ribs spearing them, and he was able to suck in some shallow breaths. Felicity turned towards the enormous, demon humanoid, her front paw-claws shifting into scythe blades, and she flew forward towards it.

  Time seemed to slow down, and Tristan saw the ball pull back. He tried to shout for her to dodge, but the unseen fairy dragon was right in the path of retraction. The spiked ball hit her from behind, and there was a loud crunch as the orb slammed into her and sent her tumbling to the ground.

  "A cliff? A cliff?! Why are you doing this to us?!"

  It was not intentional to have this week's chapter loadout end on this cliffhanger. It's just how the schedule/uploads panned out.

  If you cannot wait to see what happens next, join my Patreon. Find out what happens to Felicity! Does she live? Does she die?! I write dark fantasy, so it's a 50/50 chance...