The cut in his armpit was really starting to hurt, but at least Corvus didn’t have a crossbow bolt sticking out of his shoulder blade like Aritian.

  “Don’t be a pussy,” snarked Mbaya as he tried to pull out the arrow, “You should be glad it stopped where it did.”

  Corvus felt bad for the aasimar, who was clearly close to crying from the pain, but he had no medical training whatsoever. Any wound he’d ever gotten he would just try to ignore it until it healed, like a true berserker would.

  “Don’t worry,” said Tai, now holding up a hand in an auspicious manner, “is anyone else injured?”

  “I got sliced a bit here,” replied Corvus.

  “Just a little,” said Mbaya as he showed off a chest wound that was still bleeding.

  With a glowing green aura, Tai’s hand waved through the air and flashed, causing a shockwave of benevolent energy that flowed over everyone in the wagon. Corvus could feel his cut closing up beneath his arm as the pain quickly subsided. Aritian breathed a sigh of relief and Mbaya looked surprised to see his wound disappear as well.

  “I channeled positive energy to heal the injuries. I won’t be able to do that many more times though,” described the cleric, “So let’s try not to get too messed up tonight.”

  Within the next hour, John Timber outlined the rest of the plan from what they had learned at the bar. Turns out Carnan Frig was staying tonight at a compound about three hours-ride north of Garaizan, and shouldn’t be leaving any time soon. Timber apologized about the skirmish they got into at the bar, but most of them agreed that those warriors were going to pick a fight no matter what happened. Notably, nobody mentioned to Timber the strange game they played in that otherworldly plane with the chaos god, Cloudor. There was a slight air of distrust between Overlord and their apparent boss.

  Corvus felt like he knew why- some things hadn’t exactly been adding up with the quest they were on. The task Corvus was pitched by Timber back in the Storm Empire was to assassinate Carnan Frig, a Harmonyist priest and leader of Garaizan, no questions asked. But under what motive? John Timber seemed to be a pirate of sorts from Zebewebehebe, but he often seemed to drop the accent and act a little too professional. And why would a swashbuckler from an area so detached from the rest of the world care about continental politics? Something about him was certainly fishy…

  It must have been close to midnight by the time they’d made it to the right spot, parked the wagon, and crept up to where they could see the compound. Overlord was in the middle of a deep wooded forest right now, far from any other form of civilization. Unfortunately, there was no ideal elevated spot where they could all get an overview, so they had Pan climb a tree and Momo translated her growls into details. A high wall surrounded the entire property, with a great distance between the entry gate and the actual buildings. Most of the structures were wooden cabins, with a great big barn on the right side- the rest of the edifices formed an O-shape, a courtyard garden sitting in the center between.

  “We’ll have to search the rooms one-by-one. Can’t take any chances,” instructed Timber, “Keep things quiet, and stealthy. If we end up going loud, I’ll blow this whistle,” he said as he produced a small red wooden carving of a dragon, “and backup will be on the way. Finally, once the deed is done and Frig is dead, we’ll set up the teleportation runestones I brought and get out of here in a flash. Any questions?”

  Corvus was now certain that there were way more moving parts to this quest than Timber previously let on. He had access to teleportation runestones? And now all of a sudden, they were going to have-

  “Backup? You’re telling me there’s someone out here in the middle of the wilderness who’s going to pop out and protect us?” Tai asked mockingly, “And who, in Gorum’s name, is going to do that?”

  “Again, no questions unless it’s pertinent to the task,” responded Timber with a strong poker face.

  One could totally argue it was completely pertinent to the task, but they were wasting enough time as it is. A minute later and Overlord was all geared up and ready to forge ahead.

  From the treeline they could see the wall and front gate about 20 feet ahead of them, however the space between was clear of any cover. Timber signaled to wait for a few minutes before moving forward. Just as they were about to proceed, there were audible footsteps coming around the fence corner, so they froze in place.

  A lone warrior on patrol, their silhouette large and armored, stomped up to the gate. With a large amount of key jangling and fretting, they unlocked the small gate and entered, taking care to lock it behind them.

  “Did you see its legs? What kind of creature looks like that?” whispered Momo.

  “Come on,” murmured Timber, “we need to climb the wall, now. Something I need to see…”

  As the patrol’s footsteps got quieter, Timber rushed forward to the base of the stone wall and held out his hands to give a boost over. The party quickly climbed the ten-foot obstacle and went silently to the other side. Timber, the last one who was helped up with a hand from Aritian, took a moment to inspect the guard who had passed, who was now to their right by about 50 feet. In the torchlight closer to the barn, they could see their unhuman features- elongated limbs, digitigrade legs, and an orange-furred muzzle sticking out from their face.

  “Pegasus’ hooves- gnoll mercenaries,” Timber warned in a hardened tone, “probably Sea Dogs…”

  “Gnolls? What’s a gnoll?” rasped Momo.

  “Hyeana-men,” answered Tai, “Bloodthirsty and lazy brutes, most of them. Skin as thick as some armors. Plenty of them in Zebewebehebe- back in the older centuries, they would either eat or make slaves of anyone that wasn’t their kind…”

  The group looked fairly shook up by this, all except for Mbaya, who squinted in deep focus on their target of the moment. “Look,” he indicated, “what’s he doing?”

  Right now, the gnoll seemed to be looking down as they proceeded, strangely pausing every now and then- hopping and turning and stopping and repeating the process in a strange fashion. When they finally reached the barn’s side door, they seemed relieved, and entered.

  “Traps!” exclaimed Timber, “He was avoiding traps! Son of a… did anyone pay any attention to his pathing?”

  Everyone either stayed quiet, shook their heads, or shrugged.

  “Damn,” he cursed, “okay. Let’s maybe go out and around, so we- Mbaya! What are you doing!?”

  The slayer had moved forward, low to the ground, heading towards the row of buildings on the left side through what appeared to be a wooded grassy lumber yard.

  “We’re taking too long, and I’m not going to sit around forever. Just pay attention where you walk and it’ll be fine,” Mbaya responded brashly. He kept on moving forward, and was soon out of sight. Timber looked ready to scream, but the circumstances obviously didn’t allow it.

  “Of all the times- okay! Let’s split- Corvus and I will head left with Mbaya, and try to follow his footing. Aritian, Tai, Momo and Pan, go right and check out that barn. Be careful. Any questions?”

  Nobody had anything to say about John Timber’s plan, so they began to move forward quietly. Corvus lost sight of everyone but Timber in front of him in a few moments as a row of trees began now separated the two teams. They kept going, up to where torches illuminated what looked like an empty stable on their right and several more rooms on their left.

  John Timber had just put his ear up to the stable door when they both heard a painful shriek ring out. Both their heads swiveled right- it sounded like it came from somewhere near the barn. And the voice sounded like it was Tai’s.

  Silence hung in the air as neither of them dared to move a muscle.

  Then a few moments later, they heard it. The unmistakable clatter of a fight. Metal on metal. Distant shouts.

  “You’ve got to be kidding me..” Timber muttered as he reached into his pockets, “It’s too early to go loud…”

  “What now?” asked Corvus.

  “I call for the ‘backup’ now,” responded the swashbuckler as he pulled out the whistle he had shown before, “and we hope it arrives before it’s too late.”

  John Timber blew a hearty breath through the little dragon-shaped instrument, but no noise came out- at least nothing audible to their ears.

  “Alright- you check the structures on the left here, and if you see the croc priest, run back and let me know. I’ll check the stables to be sure and the shack behind. Go!”

  Corvus ran quickly along the rooms, peering into the first three with the anticipation of a bloodthirsty fighter being on the other side, but finding nobody yet; a food storeroom, a washroom, and a storage of enormous wine barrels, but not a hint of their target. Finally, he took a look inside what seemed to be a secondary, smaller stable, only to find something moving in the dark along the far wall.

  A lizardfolk, bound in chains by the hands and feet, slowly sat up from where it lay on a pile of hay. They were barely clothed, and by the looks of it, barely fed, with a repulsively thin frame and wavering, tired eyes.

  “You’re a prisoner?” Corvus asked nervously. He had been prepared to fight and hack his way through any amount of Harmonyist cretins that got in his way here, but this… was not what he expected. Showing mercy was not one of his strong suits, but he thought maybe this poor lizard was just like him; someone who had been wronged by the Harmonyists and was in strong need of revenge.

  The chained fellow nodded, and Corvus began severing his shackles with a couple well-aimed swings of his mighty axe. “Go now. Get stronger. Fight back against the people that persecuted you. Don’t let them ever take advantage of your weakness again.”

  “Free!” the lizardfolk responded in common, as they trotted out into the open air with an expression of exhilaration on their face. Corvus smiled back as the escapee kept running, building up speed and heading back the way their party had come from.

  From around the corner at the end of the buildings, Mbaya quickly appeared and swung both axes at the fleeing lizardfolk. The poor creature was so frail that the attack cleaved straight through their abdomen, and the lizard was effectively bisected, dead before they hit the floor.

  There was a very awkward silence as Corvus and Mbaya met eyes down the pathway.

  “WHY… DID YOU DO THAT?!” whisper-yelled Corvus as he approached the slayer, who was half-drenched in the prisoner's blood.

  “I had no idea who that was,” Mbaya excused in a lackadaisical tone, “did you know them?”

  “NO! But they were being held prisoner! I was setting them free!” Corvus seethed.

  “Are you sure they’re not a Harmonyist soldier in disguise? It could’ve been a trap.”

  “I don’t even- why would-”

  The dragon landing in the garden in front of them not 20 feet away interrupted the conversation as the ground shook violently. The beast was crimson-scaled, about the size of an elephant, which was actually somewhat small for a dragon.

  Without a word, Mbaya and Corvus ducked into the room that formerly held the deceased prisoner, peeking through the doorway.

  “I don’t think it saw us. What the hell is a dragon doing here?” rasped Corvus.

  “Wyvern. That’s a wyvern,” corrected Mbaya.

  “A wyvern? How do you know?”

  “Dragons are bigger, and have four legs and two wings. But wyverns,” Mbaya described, pointing sharply at the beast in the garden, “have two legs and two arms that are connected to the wings, and usually can’t breath fire.”

  The creature made a hiccupping motion for a few moments, then let out a brief roar. At the end of its shout, it aimed for the nearest building, across the garden from Corvus and Mbaya, and let out a jet of flame that billowed and caught onto the wooden structure. Slowly it turned its head to start sweeping closer and closer to where the adventurers were watching.

  Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel.

  Quickly exiting, the two dashed to their left towards the north of the flowered courtyard before their hiding spot became emblazoned.

  “You said they couldn’t breathe fire!” barked Corvus.

  “Usually,” said Mbaya.

  Suddenly the door immediately in front of them burst open, a hyena-faced guard standing wide-eyed on the other side. The inside appeared to be a barracks of sorts, given the rows of beds and numerous other gnoll warriors who were now arming themselves within. It was only a moment after the fighter before them drew a blade and nastily cursed in an unknown tongue when a second wyvern landed without warning on top of the building, collapsing the roof and presumably crushing the barracks of gnolls inside as well.

  When the dust settled, a new winged beast stood before them, quite similar in appearance to the other wyvern that had almost turned them into briquettes, however this one’s scales were the color of brass. It clearly noticed Corvus and Mbaya, analyzing them slowly with intelligent, amber reptilian eyes. The other red-scaled wyvern had now appeared at their rear, and the two warriors found themselves now back-to-back, unwilling to become immobilized in fear, but still clearly outmatched by the two large beasts. Before either Corvus or Mbaya could make up their mind on whether to fight or run, the brass wyvern turned its attention away from the two mortals and opened its mouth, barking something at its look-a-like in a definite language. The red wyvern began communicating back, as if the two were now in an argument of sorts.

  “What… what is that?” asked Corvus anxiously.

  Mbaya appeared to be thinking of a response when John Timber strolled around the corner, seemingly relieved to find his comrades and not at all surprised to see two giant fire-breathing menaces bickering between themselves.

  “That’s Draconic, mate. Let me introduce you two to Alexios,” Timber declared, pointing to the red-scaled wyvern, “and his sister, Galaxia,” pointing at the brass-scaled wyvern. “They’re quite intelligent, but they’ve still got a beastly temper.”

  The two sibling wyverns had settled whatever differences were between them and turned to the rest of the compound north of their position, igniting and fireblasting everything in sight.

  “We have dragons? Why didn’t we send them in first?” asked Corvus.

  “Can’t answer that one,” snapped Timber. “We can count on those two to handle the low-level riff-raff ahead, but we still need to find Carnan Frig before he figures out what’s going on. If he hasn’t figured it out yet.”

  “If he hasn’t been turned to cinders yet,” muttered Mbaya.

  The three of them approached the far end of the compound now, and could see to their right Tai, Momo and Pan, and Aritian unlocking a thin iron gate that must have been an alternate entrance. Behind them were a couple lizardfolk militants splayed out on the ground, either unconscious or dead. Tai had several broken pieces of armor and was walking with a deliberate limp, and Pan’s fur was bloodied in several spots.

  “Please tell us the dragons are on our side,” urged Aritian.

  “Glad we found you now, I need to use my channel energy to heal us,” informed Tai, “But after this, I think I’ll only have one more in me. We need to be careful.”

  “Tai stepped in a bear trap,” exclaimed Momo.

  “So we’re just ignoring the three gnoll maniacs who jumped me in the barn?” shot back the cleric.

  “They ambushed you because they heard you scream after stepping in the bear trap,” added Artian.

  “You’re not helping.”

  “Fellows!” interrupted John Timber, “There’s only one building left, and unless we want to pick through the fiery remains of this place all night, we need to find Carnan Frig post-haste. Corvus- knock this door down and let's storm the place.”

  The structure ahead was the largest building by far in the compound, with a covered patio and barred windows that had the curtains drawn. If someone of importance were to be residing in the compound, it would make sense to be here. The adjacent rooms were quickly catching fire, narrowing Overlord's window to take action by the second.

  Corvus took care to chop the hinges straight off the door before kicking it down, revealing an empty hallway and kitchen with doors to the left and right. Moving through the interior now, John Timber, Momo, and Pan headed right. Mbaya went ahead on the left side, clearly looking for more things to cleave. Tai, Corvus, and Aritian passed through a small bedroom filled with maps before hearing a commotion in the next room. Mbaya was laughing.

  The three of them barged in so quickly into what appeared to be a master bedroom that Corvus nearly tripped over his teammates. On the other side of a luxurious king-size bed was a crocodile-headed lizardfolk wearing the garb of a Harmonyist clergyman. A tattoo of the symbolic hand-from-flames and opposite hand-from-clouds shone across his lower jaw, along with nearly a dozen luminescent red stripes that Corvus recognized were similar to what the officer had in the bar. And next to Carnan Frig was a very young, frightened looking human boy.

  “Aw, what the fuck?!” exclaimed Mbaya, who stood on the other side of the bed, menacing the priest. “I may be a sick bastard, but I ain’t ever diddle any kids, you shitstain.”

  Aritan and Tai were horrified and confused by the bizarre scene. But Corvus felt that familiar, primal emotion. Rage- but this time, it was sickeningly intense. He needed to behead this monster as soon as possible.

  “Tell your Emperor he cannot stop us,” taunted Carnan Frig as he reached into his robes for something, “Harmony will rise, and the angels will come for him.”

  The vile priest quickly shoved the boy towards the three of them by the doorway just as Corvus started to swing forward with his weapon. In a split-second, he was forced to make a decision; either continue the swing and cleave through the child and into Carnan Frig, or momentarily spare the child as well as Frig. But even though every fiber of his being told him to kill the Harmonyist scum right now, he held back. If he were to kill that boy for the sake of slaying Frig, he would be no better than his worst enemies.

  The young human collided with Tai, Aritian, and Corvus, knocking them off balance for a moment. Frig quickly stepped back as Mbaya desperately launched his offhand axe at the priest- with a scroll in hand, Carnan Frig’s silhouette flashed in a brilliant pillar of light as he laughed.

  Frig had vanished. Escaped, likely with the help of a teleportation spell. He could be almost anywhere by now, and they had no way to track him whatsoever. The crushing feeling of defeat slowly enveloped all four adventurers in the room, as they came to realize they had totally failed their main objective with no way of coming back from this setback. Mbaya looked especially frustrated, and stomped over to the spot where Carnan Frig had stood just a few seconds ago.

  “Bastard took my axe with him!” he shouted, spitting on the ground where Frig and the boarding axe had vanished.

  A moment later, John Timber, Momo, and Pan appeared at the back doorway out of the bedroom, which Tai swiftly unlocked from the inside. Corvus explained what had just occurred, and Timber closed his eyes with a look of outrage frozen on his face. The rest of the party looked at each other nervously.

  “Gods- damn it!” he shouted, kicking a bedside chair into pieces. “Hell… we still have to leave. We don’t know if the gnolls sent any messages for backup yet. Plan is now to use the teleportation runestones in the courtyard garden to zip out of here. Help me set them up, one in each corner, and I’ll attune the center one.”

  “What about the human?” asked Aritian, nodding to the young boy in the corner. The group had almost completely forgotten about the young one, who was shivering in fear, curled up in a ball in the corner of the bedroom.

  “What about him?” responded Timber, clearly still fuming over the outcome and perhaps not thinking straight, “We can’t waste any time. As far as we know, he could be willingly collaborating.” He rushed out of the bedroom.

  The building’s interior was getting warmer and warmer, so Overlord retraced their steps to exit out the front door. Corvus privately noted that Mbaya was the last one out, perhaps having taken the time to loot the more expensive trinkets of the domicile. Outside, it was evident that the two wyverns Alexios and Galaxia had departed; the compound was left now a smouldering, dead wreck for the most part. Corvus wondered why the powerful beasts had made such an abrupt getaway without conversing first with Timber, who stood hesitant in surprise. The total quiet of the night other than the low crackle of dying flames was eerie to all.

  “I don’t like this,” shuddered John Timber, “let’s hurry up.”

  About two minutes later, Artiain, Corvus, Tai, and Mbaya had placed the four teleportation runestones in equidistant spaces across the corners of the garden, while Timber fiddled with the large one he had placed in the center. Momo and Pan stood guard near John Timber, staring into the surrounding trees nervously. Corvus had finished embedding his stone when he approached the tengu cautiously. Something had piqued Momo’s interest as he peered into the east treeline, standing ever so still now.

  “What? What is it?” whispered Corvus, trying to get a glimpse of whatever was spooking the druid. Pan let out a tepid hiss.

  “Over there-” pointed Momo with a shaky feathered finger, “Do… you… hear?”

  For a minute, Corvus thought his fellow adventurer was losing it. But then he closed his eyes, concentrating on noise coming from that direction.

  Whispers. Like the forest was talking. But even worse, he caught a couple words that were spoken with a regal accent that instantly put him on edge.

  Elvish.

  “TO THE EAST! Look out!” warned Corvus as a salvo of arrows descended into the garden clearing. He slammed into Momo and Pan, hitting the dirt and laying in cover behind several larger ferns. A panic-stricken yelp rang out, and he turned to see Aritian collapse to the ground, now being the second time an arrow had pierced his torso that day. Tai dragged him behind a post that barely provided shelter while Momo summoned forth a massive snowball that hurtled into the treeline. Timber fired both pistols seemingly at random towards the east as well, the darkness clearly contributing to the chaos of the situation.

  “HOLD YOUR GROUND!” ordered Timber with an iron-willed voice, but the situation was clearly dire. To the west, Mbaya ran forward- at first, Corvus thought the slayer was abandoning the team entirely. Then, he realized that there were a couple voices speaking Elvish coming from the buildings at their rear. The team was being surrounded.

  At the same time, a Cassian soldier finally came into view, rushing forward to kick over the runestone planted on the ground to the north-east. He wore chain-mail armor, a long, green cloak, and wrappings that covered the lower half of their face. But Corvus could still easily recognize the Elvish features of a Cassian native. None of them were going to make it out of there alive unless the runes remained in place, leaving Corvus no option.

  He charged forward, surprising the footsoldier with a glancing blow to the chest that failed to piece through any armor yet. To his right, Tai tried to defend the south-east runestone from a stream of arrows that were targeting it. John Timber joined the fray as well, now fighting back-to-back with Mbaya to the west, swinging wildly with a scimitar against a squadron of enemy rangers. In the center, Momo, Pan, and Aritian appeared to be magically coaxing the central stone into functioning.

  Corvus was about to lay into the dazed soldier when an arrow sprang out from his thigh, dropping him to a painful kneel. There were at least ten Cassian troopers in view now, surely even more in the distance sniping their position. Despite the unrelenting power of a fiery rage flowing through his veins, Corvus knew deep down that this was a losing fight… but he would be damned if he was going out quietly.

  Using all his might, Corvus heaved his axe from behind him, arcing overhead into the Cassian in front of him who was just getting up. A panicked plea of mercy might have escaped the soldier's mouth before he was hacked into, but Corvus barely heard it. The disgusting thumping of blood, as if his heart were in his ears, was the only thing the barbarian could hear right now. With some effort, he was quickly able to reposition the teleportation runestone back into place.

  From behind, there was a muffled call coming from Aritian. Something desperate. But whatever the message was, it was too late. Another arrow dug into Corvus’ chest, close to his heart. Another inch, and he would’ve instantly died- it was more frightening the fact that he could barely feel the pain anymore. Collapsing to the ground on all fours, Corvus looked back at Aritian, Momo, and Pan, just in time to see a bright white light eclipse their silhouettes. A moment later, the whole yard flashed brilliantly, and only Mbaya, Tai, John Timber, and Corvus were still present. The runestones had teleported away, along with the three members of their party who were at the very center.

  Corvus may have been reckless, but he was no fool- the Cassians wouldn’t bother approaching him. Any second now, another arrow was going to rapidly descend and end his life. There was no strength left to even lift his axe. All he could do is stare into the night sky and think about his parents. He hoped they would be proud.

  But no arrows arrived to cut short his life. Instead, he could hear the sound of footsteps slowly approaching, a voice giving commands in Elvish. Take them, it said. The speaker came into view on his peripheral, and Corvus heaved in an attempt to gasp air.

  Dressed in elegant, masterwork and almost certainly magical emerald-color armor with the craftsmanship of learned artisans was a noble elf with a wide masculine chin and tiny pharisaic black eyes. Dark hair flowed back and behind a thin golden crown that bore the royal seal of Cassia. Corvus had never seen him in person, only in tapestries and in artworks- but without a doubt standing before him was the King of Cassia, Harkiel, flanked by several royal magus guards.

  It was completely unbearable to Corvus that the grand orchestrator, the catalyst of almost all grief present in his life was only a few yards away, and the most he could do was claw at the ground in exasperation. If he was lucky, maybe he could gather up enough saliva in his mouth to spit in Harkiel’s eye as he passed. With any luck, the king would get terribly infected and die a painful death.

  But before Corvus’ dubious plan could be executed, the King of Cassia raised his hand and cast a spell across the garden. Waves of immense fatigue enveloped Corvus, and he could barely make out the bodies of his comrades collapsing to the ground.

  “Sleep,” ordered Harkiel as darkness took hold of everything in sight.

  ***

  When Corvus came to, he was lying in a metal cage alongside Tai, John Timber, and Mbaya. He was narrowly slipping in and out of consciousness, hardly able to make out their surroundings- they were on a dock, somewhere cold, beside what appeared to be a large Cassian ship.

  Closer still were three figures standing on the dock, two of which Corvus immediately recognized as Carnan Frig and King Harkiel, in midst of discussion. A third person stood by as well, but to call them a person might have been far-fetched. They were massive, standing at least 9 feet tall, a body of astral violet muscular energy, with dark blue facial features. A pointed white helm of sorts covered their head, extending in the shape of a trident the tip of which was at least a foot long. Other than that, they were completely unclothed.

  “-getting closer with each day. Soon we shall descend upon the Empire and exact justice on all evildoers,” explained the astral being with a godly, voluminous voice.

  “And these four?” inquired Carnan Frig.

  “They’ll be going to Altarus,” stated King Harkiel, “A few stooges of the Empire could prove… useful. For information and otherwise.”

  The last thing Corvus remembered before slipping into darkness again was the overwhelming smell of orchids.