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Behind him, a shield wall forms at the front, stunting Damaris’s onslaught of green flames only the top Underlings master.

We are being overwhelmed.

Cadex notices at the same moment. “Alright,” he pants while shoving a soldier away, “I’m officially voting for the terrifying shadow monster option.”

Damaris glances at me. “We may not have a choice.”

Sigurd swings his massive axe again. The shield wall advances, some now laying theirs down over the widening crevasse to make a bridge.

My arm burns as I deflect the blow. That’s fucking new.

Another white-hot pulse of pain beneath my sleeve.

The infection stirs. No, not now!

I step back, raise my free hand, and call into the dark. “Erebos.” The word falls like a stone into a bottomless well. For one heartbeat, nothing happens.

Then the shadows move, peeling away from the cavern walls like living ink. Darkness gathers behind me, thickening, stretching, twisting into a shape that should not exist in this world.

The Jord warriors falter. Even Sigurd hesitates.

The Erebos—a towering mass of living shadow with too many limbs and eyes that glow like dying stars—emerges from the darkest place in the lowermost level of the crust.

Me.

My breath fogs as the temperature drops.

Cadex mutters beside me, “Ah, yes. That’s the stuff.”

The Erebos lunges.

A Jord soldier disappears into darkness and screams once before silence swallows him. A soul devoured.

Another tries to run, but shadow tendrils wrap around his legs and drag him backward.

The tunnel erupts into chaos, and Jord’s shield wall breaks.

Sigurd steps back, fear finally cracking his confidence. “You command demons,” he snarls.

“I command Terraguard,” I reply. Then I drive my sword through his chest.

He collapses. Rollo won’t be happy about that loss one bit.

The remaining Jord flee.

The Erebos devours the last straggler before dissolving slowly back into the cavern walls. A heavy silence returns to the tunnels.

Cadex wipes blood from his face. “Well,” he says, “that was unpleasant.”

Damaris surveys the bodies. “They were scouting.”

I nod. “Yes.”

Cadex groans. “Which means the real attack is coming later.”

“Most likely.”

He sighs. “I hate being right.”