Corban jumped over Coralen, still on her knees, and stood before her to meet the Kadoshim, sword raised two-handed over his head. The Kadoshim’s mouth shifted – smile or snarl, he could not tell – then their blades met, a crunch that numbed Corban’s wrists. They traded blows, Corban forcing the creature back a step, then another.

It’s weakening. He swept its sword up, turned his parry into a downward cut, chopping through its wrist, severing its sword hand, kicked it in the chest, sending it staggering back another few steps. An arrow slammed into its belly, another knife followed, and Corban was aware of figures closing all around them: Jehar, giants, Storm and Buddai snarling behind them. Farrell appeared beside him, hefting his war-hammer. It was black with blood.

The Kadoshim powered forwards; Farrell smashed his hammer into the creature’s chest. Bones shattered, flesh mangled as the Kadoshim flew backwards. Then Corban’s sword flashed, hacked into the Kadoshim’s neck, half severing its head. It jerked, tried to turn and grab Corban. Farrell gripped its wrists as Corban’s sword rose and fell again. The head fell away, black shadow-like oil pouring from the severed neck, rising to take winged shape, then drifting apart, a frayed and tattered banner.

Corban stood there, chest heaving; everyone around him stared for a frozen moment.

‘Elyon’s stones, but they’re hard to kill,’ panted Farrell.

‘Too hard,’ Corban agreed, feeling the notches in his sword. He patted the flat head of Farrell’s war-hammer. ‘You need a blade for them.’

‘Aye.’

He walked to Coralen, who was on her feet but still groggy.

‘Thank you,’ she said. He squeezed her arm.

Cywen put her foot on the Kadoshim’s severed head and pulled her knife from its eye. Brina was crouching over the woman it had attacked, staunching the blood from her injury. Corban looked around and saw the combat was over. But for how long? Pockets of Jehar and giants spread out amongst the woods, searching for any survivors. Meical is right: there is no running away from this God-War. I ran from Dun Carreg all the way to Domhain, and it followed me. I travelled to the far north and walked into the middle of it. And now it finds me again. It cannot be escaped. At best I can choose where and how I fight. He took a deep breath.

‘We need to get out of here,’ he said to no one in particular. ‘Gather the Kadoshim heads,’ Tukul yelled beside him.