Hearing Chena’s yapping turn into a feral growl accompanied by another snap of Seeker’s bowstring, Pilgrim whirled. The sword glowed as it swung in a wide arc, slicing through chest and skull to leave a half dozen supplicants on the ground. They twitched and writhed, but failed to die, one still reaching for him with clawed hands despite the brains spilling from his skull.

“Back!” Pilgrim said, pushing Seeker away from the gate and towards the pillar on the right. With her last arrow gone she abandoned her bow and drew her scimitar, both of them hacking their way clear of the encroaching mob. Despite the many lopped limbs and shattered skulls the wretched souls continued to assail them, Pilgrim and Seeker finding their backs pressed against the pillar’s base. He swung the sword with all the demonic force he could summon from its occupant, the voice singing with involuntary exultation as it scythed down one ragged body after another. But there were many more, all now screaming out their prayers in an insane cacophony of desperate need.

“I need room!” he shouted to Seeker above the din.

“To do what?” she shouted back.

He lashed at the frenzied supplicants before him with furious energy, creating a brief fountain of limbs and entrails as he forged enough space to allow him to turn to the pillar. “To build a bridge,” he said, steadying himself as he drew back the blade. It began to glow brighter still as he conveyed his intention to the voice, provoking a reflective chuckle.

Something I’ve never seen done, my liege, it said. I do like it when you attempt the impossible.

Seeker seemed to sense his purpose, launching herself at the mob with renewed vigour whilst Chena charged forward, her mighty jaws snapping at the forest of legs, crushing bone like paper. The respite they created was brief, barely a few seconds, but it was all he needed.

Pilgrim swung the sword when the blade’s glow had blossomed to a near-blinding white. The first stroke sliced through the fine carvings like an axe cleaving the flimsiest wood. The second bit deeper still, the huge monolith beginning to totter. It fell with the third stroke, severed from its base in a cloud of powdered stone, toppling over so that its summit slammed onto the ground opposite, spanning the moat. The impact birthed a series of cracks along its entire length and Pilgrim surmised their newly crafted bridge would last only moments.

“Go!” he instructed Seeker, cutting down a supplicant who had managed to grab hold of her scimitar blade.