The next wave of undead creatures surged forward, stronger and more organized than their predecessors, but they met a fate no different. The mages of Bastion unleashed a hailstorm of elemental fury—fire, lightning, ice, and wind—tearing into the advancing horde. The weakest fell, unable to withstand the sheer power of the attacks. Yet, for every fallen creature, dozens more emerged from the fog, their malevolence undeterred.
The Titan stood at the heart of the battlefield, an unyielding pillar of strength. His sword moved with effortless precision, cleaving through undead flesh and bone. Each strike was calculated, weakening the creatures just enough for his companions and the ascenders of Bastion to finish them off. He was careful to hand over the kills, allowing his allies to claim the points and levels. He didn't need them—not for this battle, at least. His focus was elsewhere.
Annika stayed close, her spear a blur of deadly arcs. Lightning followed her movements, carving a path through the horde. Her strikes were fast, precise, and lethal, her aura crackling with unrestrained power. She crushed aether shards repeatedly, feeding her core to keep going. She fought with the determination of someone trying to match the impossible—a titan.
Moyo took note of her effort, and while he admired it, he had other plans. Releasing Blade Storm, a torrent of intent-fueled strikes, he created a brief moment of respite around them, scattering the undead into dismembered heaps. Turning to his companions, he spoke with authority:
"I'm going after the necromancer. You all hold the lines."
Annika's spear flashed as she turned to him, her eyes filled with stormlight and defiance. "Then I'm coming with you," she said firmly.
Moyo shook his head, his voice calm but resolute. "I'm sorry, but no. You're the vice lord—you represent me here."
Annika's defiant glare met his, the storm in her gaze growing fiercer. "I can't just—"
He cut her off, gripping her hand briefly but firmly. "Idris leads the forces. Ayo shields the mages. And you—you hold Bastion. Can I trust you on this?"
Her jaw tightened, the storm brewing in her heart. After a tense moment, she looked away, her voice low and begrudging. "You owe me, Titan."
A faint smile touched his lips. "As the Stormsinger wishes."
Josh, who had been nearby, hefted Gravemaw and stepped forward. "What about me, boss?"
Moyo glanced at him, considering. "You're coming with me," he said simply.
A flash of pride crossed Josh's face as he nodded, gripping his hammer tightly.
Moyo turned to the rest of his companions. "Hold the line. I'll end this battle soon."
They nodded, determination in their eyes as they fought their way back to the frontlines. Elemental attacks rained down from the mages, while the earth golems held the line like an unyielding wall. Annika ascended into the skies; her form illuminated by crackling lightning as her spear became a beacon of fury.
Josh, standing beside Moyo, couldn't help but glance back at her. "You've really pissed her off, boss," he muttered.
Moyo shrugged. "She'll be fine. Come on, we have a necromancer to kill."
They advanced, carving a path through the undead. Moyo's Titan's Presence pulsed outward, halving the strength of their foes and filling the battlefield with an oppressive aura that even the mindless creatures couldn't ignore. Josh swung his hammer with reckless abandon, crushing any that came too close, his movements less refined than Moyo's but no less effective.
"You must be gaining levels like crazy," Josh remarked, panting slightly as he smashed through another wave.
Moyo glanced at him, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "Not really. Most of these are far below our levels. You've noticed it too, haven't you?"
Josh frowned, realizing his rank hadn't budged despite the effort. "Yeah. What gives?"
"These are scraps, leftovers," Moyo explained, pointing his blade toward the distance. "See those? Wyrms and trolls retreating. They're worth something."
Josh squinted into the distance, unable to make out the details. "Can't see a thing, boss."
Moyo sighed. "Hold on," he said, grabbing Josh by the collar.
"Wait, what are you—" Josh's words were cut off as Moyo hurled him into the air with a single powerful motion.
Josh sailed over the battlefield, hammer glowing with force mana, his shield tucked against his chest. He righted himself mid-air, charging his attack as he aimed for the retreating creatures.
Moyo watched his trajectory, a faint smile on his lips. Josh was bold, eager, and determined, but there was a dangerous edge of pride to him. This would be a lesson—a tempering. The Titan followed in his wake, his blade ready, his focus now solely on the necromancer.
The battle was far from over, but for the Titan, it was just beginning.
Josh hurtled through the air like a living missile, the wind tearing at his face as he focused on the massive figures ahead. Instinct took over—he tucked his shield against his chest and cocked his hammer back, charging Iron Wrath. The world seemed to slow as he descended, his target clear: a towering troll standing amidst the retreating horde.
With the force of a meteor, Josh slammed into the troll, his hammer connecting with its skull in a deafening crunch. The creature collapsed instantly, its massive form crumpling under the devastating blow. Josh hit the ground hard, rolling and fighting to regain his balance, the adrenaline pounding in his veins.
[Level 90! 144 points!]
[Iron Wrath Level 20!]
His victory was short-lived as his instincts screamed in warning. He rolled just in time to avoid a colossal club that smashed into the ground where he'd been standing. Two Wyrms reared back, their throats glowing with the heat of incoming flames. Without hesitation, Josh dumped 100 points into Strength, feeling the surge of raw power course through him.
He triggered Iron Wall, raising his shield as twin jets of flame engulfed him. The shield glowed red-hot, the heat biting into his arm, but he stood firm. Teeth gritted against the searing pain, Josh angled the shield, deflecting the flames toward a nearby troll. The creature roared as it burst into flames, its charred body thrashing violently.
Josh seized the moment, slamming the flaming shield into the troll's legs with a sickening crunch. The troll dropped to its knees, howling in pain, and Josh followed up with Shock Blow, the force mana of his hammer detonating with brutal precision. The troll's skull shattered under the impact, its death sending ripples of relief and exhaustion through Josh's battered body.
[Iron Wall Level 25!]
[Shock Blow Level 20!]
[Level 95! 40 points!]
His breath came in ragged gasps as the Wyrms circled him, their flames licking at the edges of his awareness. His burned arm throbbed with pain, but he tightened his grip on the now-scarring shield. He braced himself, forcing a grim smile as he spat blood onto the ground.
"I've taken down two trolls," he muttered to himself, the pride short-lived as the reality of the situation sank in.
The two Wyrms inhaled in unison, their throats glowing ominously. Josh felt his battered body scream in protest as he raised his shield once more. The red-hot metal scorched his hand, but he held firm. He was the wall of Bastion—the shield that would not yield.
"I will not be found wanting," he growled, his voice rising into a defiant roar. "Not again! Do your worst!"
The flames engulfed him, searing his body as the Wyrms pressed their assault. Josh staggered, his vision wavering as he poured his all into Iron Wall, forcing the shield to hold against the unrelenting heat.
In the blinding haze of fire, he triggered Iron Wrath and Shock Blow simultaneously, the two skills intertwining with a destructive harmony. Gravemaw hummed with raw force mana as Josh propelled himself forward, charging straight into the maw of one of the Wyrms.
The tail of the second Wyrm lashed out, striking him with bone-crushing force. Josh crashed to the ground, his ribs screaming in agony. Blood dripped from his lips as he forced himself back to his feet, staggering but unbroken.
He looked at the Wyrms, their monstrous forms towering over him. He chuckled, the sound dark and resolute. "I won't let you past me. I am the shield of Bastion!"
Josh planted his feet, his resolve unshaken. Flames gathered in the Wyrms' throats once more, but he didn't flinch.
"I will pave the way," he whispered, his grip tightening on Gravemaw. "For the Titan."
The Wyrms unleashed their flames, twin infernos crashing toward him. Josh roared, hammer raised high as he charged straight into the fire, a defiant smile on his face. Pain exploded across his body, but in that moment, he felt nothing but fulfilment.
As the flames enveloped him, Josh struck with all his might, the world narrowing to the single act of crushing the Wyrm. The echoes of his laughter, raw and triumphant, carried through the battlefield as he made his stand.
Moyo observed the fight with measured intensity, testing Josh's determination. When the sentinel stood against two Wyrms' flames, Moyo instinctively raised Ida to intervene, but something gave him pause—a subtle, almost imperceptible urge to let the sentinel face his trial. It felt as though the system itself was observing, turning this battle into something more than just survival.
As Josh, battered and near his limit, rose once more, Moyo questioned his decision to bring him along. The wyrms reared up, ready to end Josh's defiance, and regret surged through Moyo's mind. His grip on Ida tightened, Titan's Edge igniting along the blade as he prepared to intervene.
Then, something extraordinary happened. Power erupted around Josh, and Moyo's HUD flared to life with a notification:
[Ascender of the Path of the Iron Sentinel: Josh has shown unwavering dedication to the Titan. Path evolving. Imbue benefit of 'Titan' title on path?]
The words made little sense—how could his title influence another ascender's path? But there was no time to question. The fight was reaching its climax, and Josh's life hung in the balance. Moyo agreed, feeling a fraction of his power siphon away—a small but noticeable pull on his core.
The flames subsided, revealing Josh's charred body. For a moment, Moyo's heart sank. This had been a mistake. Rage and regret warred within him as he stared at the sentinel's unmoving form.
But then, he noticed something—Josh's burnt flesh began to knit itself together. The cracks in his skin glowed faintly before rapidly healing. His chest rose and fell, eyes snapping open for a brief moment before he passed out, utterly spent. His robes were reduced to ash, leaving him bare, but alive.
A black tattoo etched itself onto Josh's shoulder, a mountain pierced by a sword—Ida itself. The ink glistened like fresh paint, burning into existence.
[Titan's Sentinel has been created: You have acquired your first follower. Just as you carve a path separate from the system's design, so too have you begun to gather those who see your vision. Time will tell if your path leads to salvation or ruin.]
Moyo stared at the unconscious sentinel, emotions roiling within him.
"Leave him to me," a voice interrupted.
Moyo turned sharply, surprised to see Annika and Martha standing behind him. He hadn't even noticed their approach—a testament to how distracted he was. Annika's face twisted in shock at Josh's state, while Martha seemed calm but resolute.
"You shouldn't be here. Bastion is at risk!" Moyo snarled, his voice edged with anger and guilt. Martha flinched, Annika recoiling slightly.
Moyo looked away, shame burning through him.
"Trust fate, Moyo," Martha said softly. "Leave him to us. You have something else to face."
Reluctantly, Moyo nodded, gathering Josh's molten shield and hammer into his voidkeep without meeting their eyes.
"Keep him safe," he whispered, his voice cracking.
Annika stepped forward, firmly gripping his jaw and forcing him to look at her. Her storm-grey eyes, now tinged with blue, glowed with intensity.
"Get your head straight, Titan," she said, her voice sharp. "Josh trusted you, and from the looks of it, he's about to become something far greater. But you need to come back to guide him. Understood?"
Moyo nodded mutely, the weight of her words pressing into him.
Annika leaned forward, brushing her lips against his in a brief, electrifying kiss. Lightning crackled faintly in the air, the scent of ozone filling his senses.
"When you return, you and I will have a proper discussion," she said, a fierce promise in her tone.
Before he could respond, a deafening screech split the air. Without hesitation, both of them turned, raising their weapons. Lightning surged from Annika's spear, and Moyo's blade intent cleaved through the skies, erasing the airborne abomination that dared interrupt their moment.
Annika smiled faintly. "Go. Tear that necromancer apart. Crush whatever twisted monument he calls a stronghold. Prove to the system that we are unyielding."
Moyo nodded, a grim determination settling over him. "For you, Stormsinger."
Without another word, he turned and strode away, Ida gleaming in his hand.
As the green portals of the necromancer's forces began to open again, Moyo swung Ida without breaking stride. The Blade Storm that erupted wiped out every creature in its wake, annihilating the undead with surgical precision. He stepped into one of the portals before it shattered, vanishing into its depths.
Moyo emerged in the heart of the necromancer's stronghold, surrounded by hordes of the undead. The air was thick with decay and malice, the green glow of their eyes locking onto him. The shrieks that followed were of rage, hatred, and fear.
"Come, then," Moyo muttered, raising Ida high.
He unleashed Blade Storm, the annihilation beginning in earnest.
***
Martha and Annika reached the titan just in time, a wave of relief washing over Martha as her premonition subsided. Together, they ferried the unconscious iron sentinel behind Bastion's protective walls. Sneaking out had been relatively easy with Martha's Shroud skill cloaking them. Returning, however, had required Annika's powers—thunder and lightning tearing through the undead to clear a path, drawing the attention of Bastion's defenders who swiftly came to their aid.
Josh's prone form was laid carefully on a bed as Martha directed the men with a calm authority. She lingered for a moment, studying his face, then turned her attention to Annika. The Stormsinger was already heading toward the great hall's doors, her determination blazing as brightly as the lightning that coursed through her veins.
"Annika, a moment if you please," Martha called.
The Stormsinger paused mid-step, glancing over her shoulder. "Do you need me somewhere?" Alarm flashed across her face, but Martha's warm smile disarmed her.
"No, the lines are holding. Idris and Ayo seem to have things well in hand. The necromancer is either a fool or vain, given his relentless frontal assaults," Martha replied evenly.
"Or he's sneaking up on us as we speak," Annika muttered, her expression grim.
Martha shook her head. "I see all of Bastion. The necromancer waits for the titan in his stronghold."
Annika's features softened, her gaze flicking to the side as if lost in thought. Martha observed her closely, sensing the storm beneath her exterior.
"Ah," Martha said, her tone light but probing. "You feel something for him—the titan, I mean."
Annika's face darkened, her dark skin somehow managing a blush as her storm-lit eyes darted away. "I… may have kissed him. It just… happened. But with everything going on, I'm not sure what's happening inside me."
Martha nodded knowingly. "Understandable. Things have been moving fast, and we've been living on the razor's edge for days now. It's enough to make anyone question their feelings."
Annika hesitated, then gave a small smile, glancing toward Josh's still form. "Do you think he'll be okay?" she murmured, her hand brushing against his shoulder.
"He will be," Martha reassured her, her voice steady. "He's bound his fate to the titan's, somehow. Josh is destined for great things. We all are."
Annika gave a resolute nod and turned back toward the door. Martha watched her go, the Stormsinger's retreating form framed by the flicker of light from the walls. When the door closed, silence settled over the room.
Martha exhaled softly, sinking into a wooden chair near the bed. She reclined slightly, closing her eyes, and immersed herself in the strands of aether she called the Web.
The Web wasn't a skill in the conventional sense—no title or system blessing marked it—but an innate power of her path as the Webweaver. Around Bastion, the aether strands had grown dense and vibrant, weaving a living network known only to her. For every ascender who swore loyalty to Bastion, a thread linked to Martha. She could see through their eyes, hear what they heard, though it wasn't entirely intrusive. The strands only drew her attention when something critical—dangerous or treacherous—loomed over the individual.
It had proven invaluable. On occasion, the strands revealed the faint beginnings of treachery—weak ascenders harboring delusions of usurping the titan or his lords. Laughable notions, swiftly and quietly dealt with by the loyal undercurrent of Bastion's defenders.
While the titan and his lords shielded Bastion from external threats, Martha ensured its stability within. No foul seed would take root in the soil of their burgeoning kingdom. A formal structure would be needed soon, but for now, the settlement was on a war footing. That time would come, Martha knew—she had already glimpsed fragments of its arrival in her strands, subtle premonitions whispering of things to come.
[Ayo, northern wall. They'll breach soon. Immolate them.]
Martha's directive blazed across the threads, and moments later, the northern wall erupted into flames as the flame empress unleashed her power. Satisfied, Martha shifted her focus to other strands.
So many strings to pull, so many threads to weave for this little kingdom to thrive. Martha smiled faintly, her resolve firm. She would ensure the Web held strong, that the titan's dream would manifest, no matter the cost.