"The First has begun the enchantment," Scythia said lowly. "He said it should not take long."
Pierce glanced up. The tower's zenith was glowing dully with blue light.
Soon the werewolves were in sight, the first timid rays of the sun revealing their silhouettes in the distance. Each one of their red eyes seemed fixed on the two warriors who waited. Lightning struck them suddenly, and those who were hit yelped in surprise as they were rent by the blast. The loose formation scattered, galloping toward the tower's meager defenders all the more wildly.
Seven orange balls of liquid fire shot down from above, cutting through werewolves like wet paper. Hairy limbs fell to the ground, and the deadly orbs left trails of blood and gore in their wake. The pack of werewolves was slain before they even reached the defenders. In their absence, the obelisks began to appear.
Pierce saw the sharp points of the monoliths pushing up out of the bare ground in a wide arc clearly meant to hem the defenders in, to trap them against the edge of the Chasm. Immediately their sick songs rang out into the air. Scythia touched her amulet, and silence fell around her. She and Pierce dashed for the nearest budding obelisks. Pierce waited for it to rise and stop, then began hacking at its base with his sword. The thing toppled and fell in incongruous silence. Scythia was attacking another obelisk with her flail. Her fierce strength was channeled through the chain and spiked ball, every impact sending cracks and shudders up the brittle structure. Eventually it fell, splintered into a thousand pieces. They moved on to the next pair.
Pierce dared a glance back at the top of Chasmverge. The dull blue light had become intermittent bright flashes that shot up into the sky, like the First was working to ignite some heavenly fire.
Another pack of werewolves was on the way, a battalion of gen in their wake. Above the gen glided black shadows that Pierce had not seen before. No, they weren't gliding, they were bounding forward in great, long leaps. What were those things?
The wind continued to mount as if it was meant to blow the tower over into the Chasm. As if this weren't strange enough, the ground itself had begun to shake. Pierce expected to see the mega-Monstrosities emerge at any moment.
Agrathor jumped down to the ground and cast his lightning on the obelisks, blowing them apart with surprising ease. Yet for every one that fell, another was rising to replace it. Their wicked song wasn't audible within the aura of Scythia's silence, but Pierce still flinched at the memory of it.
Ess's liquid orbs were extremely efficient at killing the loping werewolves, but inevitably a few got through to Pierce, and he engaged them grimly.
They fought with the cunning of beasts and men combined, and they engaged him in groups of five or six, surrounding him with nips at his extremities and feigned attacks. He tried to keep track of as many of them as he could, but inevitably one would get in behind him and try to rend him with its claws while he was fending off one of its packmates.
Pierce slew one with a swift cut upward through its torso. Blood and liquid bone spilled onto the ground. He dodged back as another werewolf dashed in to clamp its jaws on his sword arm. It caught him, but its teeth broke against Pierce's enchanted armor and it opened its maw in a howl, flinching with the intense pain. Pierce beheaded it.
He glanced sideways at Scythia, who was also beset. The werewolves were swift, but her bracelet made her faster. The eyes of the monsters were wide in bewilderment as she dashed to and fro among them, smashing their skulls in with precise strikes of her sister's flail. Despite her skill, a horde of gen was almost upon them, and obelisks were continuing to crop up behind the advancing enemy lines.
The shadows taking long leaps among the gen had split off and made for the tower, ignoring its defenders. They looked to have black skin like Ess's, and they were clad in loose black clothing that fluttered as they cut through the air. They were too far away to stop as they began to climb the sheer face of the tower, somehow finding handholds in the smooth green stone. Pierce would have to leave them to the others atop the tower.
He slew the last werewolf that had accosted him, cleaving its torso from its body with one fell swoop. The halves of the beast toppled to the ground. A line of gen approached in tight formation, armed with pikes. This called for something flashy - perhaps he could scare them into chaos.
Pierce dashed for the formation's flank, as if he meant to go around them. They held their ground and pivoted to keep their pikes leveled at him. He knew the points of their weapons couldn't pierce his armor, even at the weak spots, but they could bludgeon him, or hem him in and pin him down. They could try for a lucky stab into his eyeslit. He was not invincible.
Before he crossed beyond the line of gen, he dashed back inward with his sword drawn to face them. He moved dangerously close, pointed his blast gauntlet back behind him, and fired it. He covered a dozen yards in an instant, vision going grey, straining his arm to keep the blade held out and steady. It cleaved through the gen like butter, slicing through pikes, armor, flesh and bone. Half the line of soldiers fell, cut apart, or at least with mortal wounds to the gut.
The second rank of gen stepped up to fill in the gap, but they looked unsure. Pierce dashed away as pikes were thrust in his direction.
A blinding flash of blue lit up the ground and all the combatants, and Pierce looked up at
