Laryn walked up to the guards.

  They snapped their attention to him, as he approached, trying to discreetly hide their card game. They realized that he was an intruder too late. Laryn passed through the magical barrier that protected the core, and fired an earth dart through the head of one of the guards.

  He had his sword out and through the eye of the second guard before the man could spring from his seat. The bodies collapsed to the ground, and no shout of alarm went up. Laryn walked to the core.

  It still shone with a faint silvery aura, even in the darkness of the storm. Laryn traced his hands over the runes on the monolith, unable to decipher them but deeply curious about what kind of power this object might grant to its ruler.

  If he had more time, and more light, he might be able to work some parts of it out.

  The core was, like all cores, a finely crafted specimen. It would be a shame to destroy it. He wished there was a way to capture it and add it to his kingdom, but alas.

  He worked his way around the thing until he found the place that Kenna said indicated the location of its heart.

  Laryn gripped his sword.

  He attacked.

  The magically enhanced weapon cut into the metal surface of the core. An iridescent mist hissed forth from the core, elemental essences bleeding from the obelisk. The core healed itself from the wound, as the essence formed into solid matter.

  Laryn struck again and again, knowing the pain that the ruler bonded to this core would be feeling.

  Shouts, deadened by the rain, rang out from the camp. They must be launching their attack. Laryn hoped that this attack on their core would throw them into disarray. He knew Vallor would crumple beneath a concerted effort.

  Laryn cut again and again, deeper into the core, cutting faster than it could mend. Like a lumberjack preparing to fell a tree, he gouged a large notch in the side of it.

  He felt the influence of the core weakening as he vented its essence to the air. A slimy coating of wet dirt formed on his arm where a jet of earth essence struck him.

  The metallic substance of the core was softer than he’d expected.

  He’d nearly cut through the thing, but it was still glowing and blowing out gaseous essences. How long would it take to kill it?

  A wild shriek ripped through the rain, and Laryn paused long enough to glance in its direction. A man sprinted madly through the muddy camp, charging toward him.

  He’d found the [Ruler] of this camp.

  Laryn redoubled his efforts as he hacked at the core. Within the device, the core heart appeared, a glowing, crystalline structure which held the core essence. If Laryn could free it and return it to Vallor, he’d be able to gain a few days worth of essence.

  He grabbed onto the thing and tried wrenching it from the core, but failed to pull it free.

  The ruler was nearly upon him.

  He could fight the man, but that would take time. Laryn gave up on recovering the core heart and stepped away from the core. He summoned an elemental [Bomb], using Life since that was his strongest affinity.

  Targeting the bomb into the gouge he’d made in the core, he sent the spell flying.

  With a flash of green light, the spell detonated, ripping the core in half and shattering the core heart. A secondary explosion of essence ripped free as the core heart smashed, and then the glow of the core faded.

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  Laryn was thrown to the ground.

  Rocks, sticks, water, mud, metal and other random bits of matter created in the detonation of the core sprayed down, splashing in puddles of rain water. Green growths and twisting vines writhed around the stump of the core, soaking in life essence.

  The charging ruler fell face first into the mud, dead as a crypt-stone.

  Laryn picked himself up as the next attack followed. Harrat’s mages came running back into the central fortification, accompanied by soldiers.

  A barrage of magical attack smashed into the magical barrier protecting the core. Laryn laughed as the mages realized their mistake and worked to dismiss their defenses.

  It was time to get out of here.

  Laryn, no longer inhibited by the destroyed core’s influence, turned and ran, sprinting back the way he’d come. His two attack focused combat spells still on cooldown, he prepared his elemental [Shield] just in case.

  Soldiers were pouring in through each of the gates. An errant dart from one of Harrat’s mages flew past Laryn and crashed into a clump of men.

  Laryn reached the wall and vaulted over it, as he had before. He landed on the wet ground and broke into a run, sprinting out of the camp.

  A few moments later he was out of the camp in in the trees, heart racing as he smiled broadly. He’d done it.

  Slowing his pace slightly, he jogged through the woods, back to the ridge he’d scrambled down. Conor and Gall were supposed to help him back up the cliff.

  “Conor!” Laryn called out. He might have enhanced stats, but getting up the slick rocks without rope, ladder, and help would be impossible.

  “Gall?”

  He received no response from atop the ledge. Then he picked out the sounds of men shouting in the distance, in the direction of the Northwest gap. Laryn hurried across the squishy ground, moving carefully to avoid slipping into a hole. Water drenched him to the skin.

  Torches guttered in the driving rain, their light glinting off helmets and spear tips. Men at the back of the force were turning and running back toward their camp. At the front, they pressed forward to the wall.

  As Laryn watched, more and more men turned and ran back toward Harrat’s camp. Were they under orders, running to defend against a counter attack? Or were they merely breaking, panicked and afraid as the influence from their core vanished and didn’t return.

  A few arrows and magical attacks flew from Vallor into the ranks, but otherwise Vallor showed few signs of resistance.

  The ram struck again, and then a large section of the wall fell. A cry went up among the Ondwins, even as horns sounded, signaling a retreat. Harrat’s army dissolved into chaos.

  Soldiers milled around, uncertain if they were retreating, attacking, or being attacked. A few more magical attacks from the ridge added to the chaos.

  Then, with one mind, the whole army seemed to decide, and everyone stampeded back toward the camp.

  Laryn ran through the morass, and plunged through the gap in the wall.

  Nobody tried to stop him.

  “By Ishtoran,” Laryn cursed. “Where is everyone?”

  He ran back toward the island, killing a few Ondwin soldiers who’d run through the gap, and were now confused about where the rest of their army had gone.

  Laryn’s boots splashed down into deep water, and an inky black plane greeted him, broken up by clumps of trees.

  Water from the Ebil, flooding over the banks, ran several inches deep here.

  Both ends of the bridge lay submerged now, the rising water nearly washing over it. Laryn hoped that all his subjects had retreated to high ground.

  He forced his way forward through the water. It grew deeper and deeper as he moved, till he was up to his waist.

  The force of the current ripped powerfully against him. Without his added strength and the slight enhancement of his kingdom’s influence, it would have ripped him from his feet and cast him away downriver.

  The wind blew strongly here, down from the Townshold plateau. It whipped through the trees, and threw spray up into the air, mixing with the wind.

  He reached the bridge, and climbed up onto it. By now, the torrents of water were lapping over the top of the bridge. Laryn splashed along through it, feeling the entire structure wobbling beneath him. The grasping fingers of the river threatened to tear the bridge free.

  The other bridge, to the south of the island, snapped and disappeared beneath the water. Dark chunks of it floated away on the river. As Laryn dismounted the bridge, he waded through several feet of flowing water before starting to climb up from the river on the sand.

  Kenna ran past him.

  He caught her by the arm. She looked at him, panic shining in her eyes.

  “Get to high ground!” he shouted.

  She ripped her arm away from his and pressed on into the water. Laryn started to go after her but noticed someone laying on the beach just above the water line.

  “What is going on?”

  She didn’t reply. Laryn ran forward to try and help.

  Devlin lay on the rocks, water lapping at his legs. The man’s eyes stared glassily into the rain, blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Dark blood stained the ground around him and ran in rivulets down into the river.

  A half dozen stab wounds marred the man’s chest.

  “Hey!” Laryn shouted, rising from the dead body. Kenna had made it through the water and reached the foot of the bridge. It bucked dangerously as floodwater rushed over and around it. “Hey!” he shouted again, turning to run back toward the bridge and Kenna.

  She started crossing the bridge when, with a groaning creak and the pop of breaking cords, the entire thing collapsed, plunging the woman into the raging waters.

  “By Ishtoran,” Laryn muttered.

  He plunged into the raging water after her.