The Hog King’s eyes locked onto the glowing violet blade in Hasib’s grip, and something in his expression shifted recognition, and beneath it, something colder.
"So it’s true," he rumbled, voice like gravel dragged over stone. "You’re Karon. And that’s the same sword that killed my General."
His tusks flexed as his mouth curled into something that wasn’t quite a smile.
"You’re going to pay for that."
The sky answered him a heartbeat later a fresh barrage of fire and shrapnel screaming down across the battlefield. Hasib moved on instinct, blade flashing again and again, carving each shell out of the air before it could land.
Through the chaos and smoke, he caught sight of Dora sprinting clear of a collapsing dune, only to stumble directly into a wall of Hog soldiers closing in around her. Hasib was already moving before he’d finished the thought, cutting a path straight through them, sword clearing the space around her in a wide, brutal arc.
She’d taken a hit somewhere along the way favoring one leg, unable to stand on her own. Without breaking stride, Hasib swept her up into his arms and kept moving, carrying her clear of the fighting as the battle raged on around them.
The tide had turned hard against the Hogs. Their numbers thinned with every passing minute, bodies falling faster than they could regroup, while the minions emboldened, relentless pressed the advantage without mercy.
It was the Hog King himself who finally broke first.
He reached for something at his belt a small, sealed vial, its contents glowing an unnatural, sickly color and drank it in one motion.
His body began to swell almost immediately, armor cracking and reshaping around him as he grew, and grew, and kept growing, his own soldiers stumbling toward him as though pulled by some invisible force, their bodies merging directly into the mass of his expanding form.
The battlefield fell into stunned silence.
"What is happening..." someone nearby breathed.
"It’s forbidden," Dora called out, voice sharp with alarm even through her pain. "That potion he’s fusing his soldiers’ life force into his own body! Everyone, fall back NOW!"
Too late for some. The shape rising out of the wreckage of Hog soldiers had already stopped resembling anything human segmented, chitinous, impossibly long, curling upright on dozens of scrabbling legs. A centipede the size of a small hill, and still growing, absorbing every Hog soldier unlucky enough to be caught within its reach before they could even finish turning to run.
Hasib didn’t hesitate.
He was moving before the thing had even fully risen, sword raised but the instant he closed the distance, he understood exactly how badly he’d misjudged it.
It was fast. Faster than anything that size had any right to be, its tail whipping around behind it, a jagged, venom-slick stinger striking out ahead of his blade every single time.
A cold notification flared at the edge of his vision.
[POISON ALERT]
[YOUR ARMOR IS ALSO DAMAGED]
His blade wasn’t enough. He fought anywayparrying, dodging, striking wherever he could find an opening but the creature simply didn’t slow down, and with every exchange his own movements grew heavier, the violet glow along his sword beginning to flicker and dim.
Then the stinger caught his arm.
Pain lanced through him, hot and immediate, poison already spreading beneath his skin. Across the battlefield, Dora lunged forward instinctively only for her friend to grab her arm and hold her back.
That was when Jakob moved.
He was young barely more than a boy, really, the son of a fallen minion general and in his hand he carried a sword forged from a strange, dark blue metal, humming faintly with its own quiet power.
He didn’t hesitate either, throwing himself into the fight without a flicker of self-preservation, even knowing exactly how dangerous it was for him personally. He held his ground through several brutal exchanges, waiting until the moment the centipede’s blood finally struck his blade.
The instant it did, he turned and drove the coated edge carefully into the wound on Hasib’s arm.
[POISON NEUTRALIZING]
Relief washed through Hasib’s veins almost instantly but the centipede was already recovering, its stinger driving hard into Jakob’s exposed back before anyone could stop it.
Jakob went rigid, breath catching in his throat.
Dora’s face crumpled with guilt.
Before the creature could strike a second time, Hasib planted his feet and shouted, "Black Sword!"
The weapon materialized into his grip instantly, dark motes of energy curling off its edge like smoke given weight.
[POTENTIALITY INCREASE: 30%]
He tightened his fist around the hilt.
A moment later—
[EXCELLENT ]
[CONGRATULATIONS!]
The centipede convulsed, collapsed, and began dissolving into the air, scattering apart like ash on the wind. Every remaining Hog soldier dropped their weapons at once, the fight draining out of them entirely.
Somewhere across the field, the chant started rough, ragged, triumphant.
"KARON! KARON! KARON!"
[YOU KILLED A HOG KING]
[REWARD: SILVER BOX]
[REWARD: HEALING KIT]
[REWARD: ANTIVENOM IMMUNITY]
Dora didn’t wait for the cheering to settle. She ran straight to Jakob’s side, dropping to her knees beside him, voice cracking.
"I’m so sorry... this is my fault, I should never have... "
Jakob, pale and struggling for breath, reached a trembling hand toward her anyway.
Dora took it, sitting close beside him. "I don’t know what happens to me after this," she said softly, "but there’s something I’ve been carrying in my chest for a long time. I’ve never said it. If you’ll let me."
"Say it," Jakob managed. "Without fear."
"I like you. So much." Her voice wavered. "I love..."
She never finished. Dora threw her arms around him instead, holding on tight.
"...Bye, Princess," Jakob whispered against her shoulder.
"No..." Her grip only tightened. "No, don’t you dare..."
"Dora." Hasib’s voice cut gently through the moment. "Let him go for a second, okay?"
She hesitated, then loosened her hold, pulling back just enough. Jakob’s breathing had gone shallow, his eyes half-closed, life visibly slipping out of him.
Without further explanation, Hasib drew a plain minion sword and sliced a shallow cut across his own palm.
"What...what are you doing?!" Dora demanded.
Hasib knelt and pressed his bleeding hand to Jakob’s lips. "Drink it. Think of it as medicine."
Too weak to argue, Jakob swallowed and immediately his eyes fell shut, his body going completely still.
A ripple of panic spread through the minions gathered around them.
"What is he doing?!" Dora’s voice cracked. "Is this even supposed to..."
Jakob’s fingers twitched.
His eyes snapped open, and he drew in a deep, ragged breath, pushing himself upright as color flooded back into his face.
Dora didn’t wait a second longer...she threw herself at him again, and this time, when their eyes met, she kissed him.
The chant rose again around them, louder than before.
"KARON! KARON!"
Hasib cleared his throat pointedly. "You two could try being a little less shameless about this. There are children present."
Dora’s face went instantly, brilliantly red. She turned away, burying her face against Jakob’s shoulder instead.
Hasib allowed himself a small, tired smile and turned to go, offering the gathered minions a farewell nod.
Dora watched him leave, something soft and grateful lingering in her gaze right up until Jakob’s hand found hers, and she turned back toward him instead.
The world around Hasib dissolved into light.
He landed hard, straight back into the familiar grip of the training threads, his body already being wrenched into the first stretch of the day.
"Oh, come ON...not again, not like this..."
The stretch began in earnest, and Hasib threw his head back and yelled at absolutely no one in particular.
"SLOW DOWN! Please...just...a little slower...!"
The moment the threads finally released him, the world reshaped itself again, and Hasib barely had time to catch his breath before he understood exactly what Task 2 had in store for him.
Two figures stood waiting across the training field this time...not one. The same dark, layered armor plating, the same twin points of red light burning where faces should have been. Both of them turned toward him in perfect, unsettling unison, arms already folding inward with that same sharp metallic click, reshaping into long, gleaming blades.
"...You have got to be kidding me."
Neither of them gave him a moment to argue the point.
They came at him from opposite angles at once, forcing him to give ground immediately, twisting and ducking to keep either blade from catching him square. He caught one strike on his forearm, the impact rattling up through his bones, and barely rolled clear of the second before it could open his side.
*One of these nearly took me apart last time. Two of them, unarmed, is just insane.*
He forced himself to think anyway circling, using one construct’s bulk to block the other’s line of attack whenever he could, baiting them into narrow windows where their reach worked against them instead of for them. It wasn’t elegant. Half of it was pure desperation, throwing himself into gaps a fraction of a second before they closed.
A blade caught his shoulder. Another grazed his ribs. He kept moving anyway, dragging one construct into the other’s path at the last possible second, using the resulting collision to rip a severed arm free the way he had before, driving the stolen blade home before either of them could recover.
By the time the second one finally went still, dissolving into scattered light like the first, Hasib was on his knees in the dirt, arms shaking, barely able to hold himself upright.
He woke gasping, chest heaving, sheets tangled around his legs.
"...Hasib." He dragged a hand down his face. "What in the world was that."
He let out a short, disbelieving laugh, still trying to catch his breath. "Task 2. Two of them. Beating both of those things bare-handed that’s not training, that’s just insanity."
He glanced toward the window. The sky outside was pitch black, the whole street silent.
...Way too late for this.
He let his head fall back against the pillow, and within moments, exhaustion pulled him back under.