Chapter 320: The Fourth Attempt

The four hours began with nobody believing Galahad would actually give them four hours.

Theron Vance lasted six minutes before returning to the planning table.

Kael lasted nine.

Darius never technically left.

Galahad noticed all three of them and said nothing at first. He sat on an overturned supply chest near the center of the forward hold, one leg extended to ease the ache in his hip, while the rescued survivors were distributed among blankets, water stores, and the handful of people capable of providing field treatment. The hold had grown crowded now that every confirmed living person from the mapped lower sectors had been brought back, but Kael preferred the inconvenience. Bodies taking up floor space meant those bodies were alive.

Milo had been ordered to sleep and appeared to be obeying only because his body had overridden his personality. He lay on his side with his cloak folded under his head, one hand resting near his chest and the other loosely curled against the stone. Sera had taken a place against the wall a few feet away, her bow across her knees and her quiver beside her. Five arrows remained. She had removed each one, cleaned ash from the fletching, examined the shafts for warping, and returned them without announcing the number again.

Iris sat near one of the hold’s side passages repairing a torn section of rope and quietly questioning two recovered workers about passages near the inner basin. Veyra had finally allowed someone to wrap the burn across the back of her hand, though her damaged focus remained within reach. Rask was under orders not to participate in the fourth attempt unless the situation changed, an order he had accepted with the expression of a man already looking for technical ways to disobey it.

Kael stood over the basin map with Vance and Darius.

Galahad watched them for another minute.

Then he spoke.

"If the three of you insist on calling this rest, I am going to redefine rest as unconsciousness and start hitting people."

Kael looked over. "I slept earlier."

"For seventeen minutes."

"It helped."

"That is worse."

Vance did not look away from the map. "The Ash-King does not care about our sleep schedule."

Galahad pushed himself upright with one hand on the chest. "And it has survived three attempts made by people who apparently share your philosophy."

Vance’s jaw tightened.

Kael looked at Galahad.

Darius said, "He is correct."

Vance turned toward him. "Which part?"

"All of it."

For a moment, Kael thought Vance might become angry.

Instead Theron exhaled through his nose and stepped back from the map.

"Fine."

Galahad pointed toward an empty section of wall. "Sit."

Theron Vance stared at him.

Galahad stared back.

The man called the Iron Wall, leader of the Iron Vanguard, eventually walked over and sat on a crate.

Milo’s voice drifted from the floor without his eyes opening. "This is the best thing I have seen all day."

Sera looked down at him. "You’re asleep."

"I am."

"You talk too much in your sleep."

"That sounds like a problem for everyone else."

Galahad pointed at Milo without looking. "You too."

"I am horizontal."

"Then improve by becoming quiet."

Milo obeyed for almost thirty seconds.

Kael took the opportunity to sit before Galahad selected a rock.

His ribs objected when he lowered himself.

The pain had changed over the last day. Earlier it had been sharp enough to command attention with every twist. Now it was a deep, constant ache punctuated by sharper reminders whenever he breathed too deeply, pulled too hard, or forgot that being seventeen did not make bones optional.

Darius sat beside him.

That was more concerning.

Kael looked over.

Darius stared straight ahead.

"You sat."

"Yes."

"Voluntarily."

"No."

Kael looked toward Galahad.

Darius said, "Do not."

Kael smiled.

The hold settled.

Not into peace.

There was no peace this deep inside the Caldera.

But activity changed from emergency movement into deliberate preparation. People ate. Bandages were replaced. Water was rationed without becoming scarce. Weapons were cleaned. The rescued survivors gave statements in pieces rather than being interrogated immediately after rescue.

The mountain trembled twice during the first hour.

Both disturbances were small.

The System noticed.

So did everyone else.

No one spoke about them until the stone stopped moving.

Kael ate dried meat, half a piece of hard bread, and something Rask claimed was cheese.

Kael remained unconvinced.

"What animal made this?"

Rask looked at the food. "Goat."

"Recently?"

Rask laughed.

Milo opened one eye. "Do not insult food where I can hear you."

"You’re supposed to be asleep."

"I am protecting morale."

Sera handed Milo the other half of her bread.

He stared at it.

Then at her.

"You love me."

"You look pathetic."

"Similar outcome."

He ate it.

The joke ended when Vance removed the wrappings from his right forearm.

Kael had noticed the bandage earlier.

He had not seen beneath it.

Old burns covered much of the skin from wrist toward elbow, but several were not ordinary burns. Long pale scars crossed the forearm in parallel lines, and one section near the inside of the wrist had a dark puckered mark that looked as though something had pierced completely through.

Rask noticed Kael looking.

"Second attempt."

Vance did not cover the arm.

Kael asked, "Ash?"

"Some."

"What was the rest?"

"Claw."

Kael looked at the spacing.

"That claw?"

Vance nodded.

"You survived being caught by it?"

"Barely."

Milo spoke around bread. "I am developing confidence in this plan."

Vance glanced toward him. "It caught the shield."

"What shield?"

"The man standing beside me."

The hold quieted.

Kael looked at Vance again.

Theron’s expression did not change.

"He pushed me clear before the talon closed."

"What happened to him?"

Vance retied the wrapping.

"He wasn’t clear."

No one filled the silence.

Kael had learned enough about grief to stop reaching for words merely because silence felt uncomfortable.

Vance finished the knot.

Then looked at the map.

"That is why we do not stand inside its forelegs."

Darius nodded.

Useful.

Not memorialized into poetry.

A death converted into knowledge because that was the only thing left to take from it.

The second hour belonged to the map.

Galahad allowed it because everyone involved had eaten, rewrapped injuries, and spent at least some time off their feet. Milo was still excluded from standing at the table, so Sera carried the basin map to him and placed it across his legs.

Theron crouched beside the edge.

"You wanted current airflow."

Milo looked offended. "I still want current airflow."

"We cannot give you that from here."

"Then we need markers."

Vance frowned. "Markers?"

"Light things."

Mara, who had remained near the rail-line station, immediately understood.

"Ash cloth."

Milo looked at her. "What?"

"Filter cloth. Thin weave."

"Good."

She disappeared and returned with several narrow strips of pale fabric.

Milo took one between his fingers.

"Too heavy."

Mara stared.

He tore the cloth lengthwise until only a narrow ribbon remained.

"This."

Sera looked at him. "You want to hang laundry around the battlefield?"

"I want to see air."

Vance leaned closer.

Milo arranged five strips across the map.

"One here. One here. Two near the western shelf. One near the southern vent line. If we can see what they’re doing before the creature breathes, we know how the ash will move after."

Galahad asked, "Can Iris place them?"

Iris looked at the marked positions.

"Four."

Everyone looked toward her.

"The fifth is too exposed."

Milo pointed at the southern marker. "That one?"

"Yes."

"It is the most useful one."

"Then you place it."

Milo looked at his legs.

"Excellent counterargument."

Iris studied the map again.

"I can get close. Not exactly there."

"How close?"

"Twenty yards."

Milo considered.

"Enough if I can see it."

Vance looked between them.

"You are planning around cloth."

Milo stared at him. "You lost twenty-six people planning around a dragon."

Theron’s expression changed.

Kael thought Milo might have pushed too far.

Then Vance laughed.

Not loudly.

Once.

"Fair."

That was the first time Kael heard him laugh without bitterness.

Milo tapped the map.

"The ash is not just the creature’s weapon. It is information. Wind shows itself when particles move through it. Usually air is invisible. The Ash-King kindly fills mine with gray powder."

"You sound grateful."

"I am trying to stay positive."

Sera crouched beside Milo.

"If he clears a shooting lane, where do you want me?"

Vance pointed toward the northern ridge.

"No."

Sera glanced at him.

Theron continued, "Too far from retreat. If it takes flight, you get isolated."

"Western shelf?"

Darius answered. "Bad footing."

Sera looked toward the map.

Then she selected a broken basalt rib southeast of the proposed engagement area.

"There."

Iris studied it.

"Limited retreat."

"Clear sight of the left wing when it turns."

Vance frowned.

Sera moved one finger.

"And the mouth if it faces Darius."

Darius looked at her.

"Why me?"

"You’ll be in front."

"That is not an answer."

"It is."

Kael smiled.

Darius did not.

Sera continued. "If I stay here, I have a rock face behind me and enough elevation that ground ash takes longer to reach my eyes."

Milo pointed toward one of the cloth markers.

"Also favorable airflow unless the southern vent changes."

Sera looked at him.

"You said you couldn’t predict it."

"I said I needed current information. Try to keep up."

She flicked his forehead.

Milo closed his eyes.

"Abuse."

Five arrows.

Everyone at the table knew now.

Nobody said she should stay behind again.

That mattered.

Kael looked at them.

"What are the first five shots?"

Sera’s eyes moved toward him.

Not offended.

Interested.

She looked down at the map.

"Depends."

"I know."

"The first shot might be no shot."

Vance nodded.

Good answer.

Sera pointed toward the Ash-King’s probable landing lane.

"If we force flight and it banks left like before, I take the damaged membrane only if the angle opens enough to reach the tear. If it breathes at someone else, throat. If its right rear leg slips after landing and exposes the inner joint, I take that instead."

"What about the eye?" Kael asked.

"Protected until it chooses to look at something."

Darius said, "And if none appear?"

Sera rested her hand near the quiver.

"I keep five."

There.

Not fear controlling her.

Ammunition serving judgment.

Kael nodded.

The third hour belonged to failure.

Galahad made Vance describe all three previous attempts again.

This time nobody asked how to hurt the Ash-King.

They asked why people died.

The first attempt had failed because the Iron Vanguard believed height was protection.

The Ash-King climbed.

The second failed because they believed the collapsed shelf had grounded it.

The Ash-King flew.

The third failed because they selected narrow terrain near an active magma vent, thinking the creature’s size would work against it.

The vent killed their flank instead.

Galahad placed three stones on the map.

"One mistake connects all three."

Vance looked at him.

"What?"

"You built each plan around something you expected the Ash-King could not do."

Theron’s face hardened.

Galahad continued. "Cannot climb that fast. Cannot fly with damaged wings. Cannot tolerate a magma vent. Each plan depended on denying it an option."

Darius looked at the stones.

"Preserve your own decisions. Do not assume the enemy has fewer."

Galahad nodded.

Vance’s gaze moved between them.

Kael understood immediately because that was Darius’s entire philosophy made larger than swordsmanship.

Do not commit so completely that one surprise destroys the plan.

Vance leaned over the table.

"So what does the fourth attempt depend on?"

"Nothing it cannot do."

Galahad moved the stones.

"We do not trap it in one place and pray. We create positions we can abandon."

He pointed.

"Primary engagement here. Secondary here. Retreat path here. If the southern vent changes, we do not argue with geology. We move. If it takes flight, we stop pretending we still have a ground plan. If the ash becomes too dense, we break sight and breathe. If someone goes down, we do not send four people to save one."

Vance looked toward him.

"Cold."

Galahad’s expression changed.

"No."

The word came quietly.

"That is how you keep five people from becoming six."

Theron studied him.

Then nodded.

Kael saw something pass between the two former mercenaries.

Different roads.

Similar graves.

Galahad looked toward Kael.

"Your Ice."

Kael already knew the problem.

"Expensive here."

"How expensive?"

Kael opened the System and reviewed his own recent casting.

"Frost Wall is bad. Sustaining anything is worse. Short techniques are better."

"Best?"

"Ice Wedge. Cold Snap. Frostbite Edge. Glacial Parry if I need it. Rime-Step in short bursts."

"Crescent Blizzard?"

Kael hesitated.

"Possible."

Darius looked toward him.

"Cost?"

"High."

"How many?"

Kael hated that question.

"One safely."

"And unsafely?"

Kael looked at him.

Darius waited.

"Maybe two."

"No."

Vance raised an eyebrow.

Kael said, "I did not say I was using two."

Darius looked unimpressed.

Galahad pointed toward Kael.

"One Crescent Blizzard unless survival requires another. Your job is not to win the fight alone."

Kael nodded.

Not because he liked it.

Because Galahad was right.

Then Vance asked the question Kael had expected sooner.

"Blood?"

Kael looked at him.

Theron’s eyes stayed on his face.

"You used something on the survivor’s leg."

Kael did not answer immediately.

Vance had noticed.

Of course he had.

"Blood Manipulation."

Several Iron Vanguard people nearby looked over.

Kael ignored them.

Vance asked, "Can you use it on the Ash-King?"

"Not the way you mean."

"How do you know?"

"Because controlling exposed blood is easier than controlling blood inside a resisting living body, and that creature has more blood than some buildings."

Milo opened one eye.

"Excellent measurement system."

Kael continued. "If we open a wound, I may be able to interfere with exposed blood. Maybe worsen bleeding. Maybe make an injury harder to close."

"Can you stop its heart?"

"No."

"Burst something inside?"

"No."

"Boil it?"

"No."

Vance studied him.

"You answered quickly."

"Because I know what I can do."

And what he could not.

That mattered.

Theron nodded.

"Good."

Kael did not like how often he agreed with him.

The fourth hour was the quietest.

That was when fear arrived.

Not dramatic fear.

No shaking speeches.

No one confessing everything they had ever regretted.

Just people preparing objects carefully because they understood some of those objects might outlive them.

Darius sat while Veyra helped replace the bandage over his shoulder. She did not use magic. The wound had reopened too many times, and the surrounding skin had become swollen enough that every pull of cloth tightened his jaw.

"You need a healer," Veyra said.

"Yes."

"You don’t have one."

"Yes."

"You are irritating."

"I have heard."

She tied the bandage.

Darius tested his arm.

Stopped before raising it fully.

Kael noticed.

Darius noticed him noticing.

"No."

Kael had not spoken.

"That is becoming annoying."

"Then become less predictable."

Across the hold, Iris finished preparing the five airflow ribbons and tied each to a narrow iron spike that could be driven into cracked stone quickly. She checked her bow, two field knives, rope, and the repair she had made to her boot.

Galahad sharpened no weapon.

He checked people.

Who could move.

Who could carry.

Who would remain behind.

Who would command the hold if the combat group did not return.

That person was Rask.

Vance disliked it.

Rask disliked it more.

"You’re leaving me here."

"You have damaged ribs," Vance said.

"So does the prince."

Kael looked up from tightening his glove.

"Why am I always involved?"

Rask ignored him.

"I know the Ash-King."

"So do I."

"I know your signals."

"So does Mara."

"I know—"

Vance stepped closer.

Whatever Rask had been about to say disappeared.

Theron’s voice lowered.

"I need someone here who understands what happens if the mountain moves."

Rask stared at him.

Vance continued. "If we fail, you take everyone out."

Silence.

That was not a command about staying behind.

It was a command about surviving the commander.

Rask’s anger changed.

"You expect to fail?"

"No."

"Then stop talking like—"

"I prepare for it."

Rask looked away.

Kael understood that too.

Galahad had said almost the same thing in different words.

The fourth attempt would not be built around what could not happen.

Including their own deaths.

Rask finally nodded.

"Fine."

Vance put one hand on his shoulder.

No grand farewell.

Just contact.

Then he moved away.

Sera sat alone near the edge of the hold.

Kael approached but did not sit beside her until she glanced up.

Five arrows lay across her legs.

Not in the quiver.

The first had a broad hunting head.

Two were narrow bodkin-like shafts intended for penetration.

One had slightly damaged fletching but remained usable.

The fifth was the best-balanced shaft she had left.

Kael sat.

"You changed the order."

Sera looked at him.

"You noticed?"

"Yes."

She pointed.

"Broadhead last."

"Why?"

"Ash."

Kael waited.

She knew what he was asking.

"The larger head loses more to bad crosswind. Narrow ones first if I get a hard target. Best-balanced shaft stays until I know exactly what I need."

"And the damaged fletching?"

"Close shot."

Kael nodded.

Sera looked at the arrows.

"Five is strange."

"Why?"

"Too many to call empty."

She rubbed one thumb across the wood of the best-balanced shaft.

"Too few to stop thinking about it."

Kael did not tell her she would be fine.

He had learned better.

Sera continued. "When I had thirty-six, I thought thirty-six was enough. When I had twelve, I thought twelve had to be enough. Then nine. Eight. Five."

She looked toward him.

"The number keeps changing."

"But the fear doesn’t?"

Sera’s mouth tightened.

"Maybe."

Kael waited.

She exhaled.

"I keep thinking about that last arrow."

Northern hills.

The close creature.

The miss.

The empty quiver after.

Kael remembered every word she had told them.

"I know."

Sera slid one arrow back into the quiver.

Then another.

"What happens when I reach for number six?"

Kael looked at her.

That was not a question he could answer.

So he did not.

Sera watched him.

Then nodded slightly.

"Good."

"What?"

"You didn’t lie."

She returned the remaining arrows.

Kael glanced across the hold.

Milo was awake now.

He watched them.

Not intruding.

Just there.

When Sera stood, Milo lifted two fingers.

She went over.

Kael did not follow.

Their conversation belonged to them.

He heard some of it anyway.

Milo looked at the quiver.

"Five."

"Yes."

"You remember the exercise?"

Sera frowned.

"Which one?"

"Wind yard."

"I remember all of them."

"The one where I kept changing the crosswind after your draw."

"You enjoyed that too much."

"I enjoy education."

"You laughed when I missed."

"Once."

"Four times."

Milo smiled faintly.

"The point."

Sera waited.

"Do not fight the air."

Her eyes sharpened.

Milo continued. "If the ash starts moving, it tells you what the shot is going to do before you loose. You do not need me to make perfect air."

"No."

"You need enough information to shoot through bad air."

Sera nodded.

Milo leaned his head back against the wall.

"And if I do clear you a lane—"

"You’re not coming."

"I know."

"Then stop planning as if you are."

His expression changed.

There.

The part underneath the jokes.

"I hate that."

Sera sat beside him.

"I know."

For a while neither spoke.

Then Milo said, "Come back with at least one arrow."

Sera looked toward him.

"Why?"

"So I can say you carried too many."

She laughed.

Quietly.

"Idiot."

"Renewable."

The fourth hour ended with a bell.

Not the deep emergency plate from the range.

A small iron strike from Mara at the forward hold.

One note.

Time.

Everyone who was going stood.

The fourth-attempt group had changed from the rescue party.

Galahad remained mission lead.

Darius frontline anchor.

Kael beside him.

Iris forward movement and terrain.

Sera ranged overwatch.

Vance as the person with the most direct Ash-King experience.

Veyra with one dangerous focus discharge.

Theron selected three Iron Vanguard fighters from the forward hold who had survived at least one previous Ash-King attempt.

Kael did not know them well.

That bothered him.

It also made sense.

This was not solely his party’s fight.

Rask stayed.

Mara stayed.

Davin and Eron stayed.

Milo stayed.

The rescued survivors stayed.

Before leaving, Kael looked at Milo.

"You going to say something?"

Milo remained seated.

"Yes."

Kael waited.

"Try not to make me walk out of here."

Kael smiled.

"That’s it?"

"I am severely depleted. Motivational speeches cost mana."

Sera passed him.

Milo caught her wrist gently.

She stopped.

He looked at the quiver.

Then at her.

No number.

"Bad air."

Sera nodded.

"Still air."

"Exactly."

He released her.

They entered the lower routes.

Nobody talked much during the descent.

The airflow markers went first.

Iris placed the first near the split where two thermal currents met.

The ribbon leaned east.

Second.

Almost still.

Third.

Pulled south.

Milo had predicted that one might matter.

Iris stared at it for several seconds, then changed the position of the spike by four feet.

The ribbon lifted.

Twisted.

Then settled southeast.

She looked toward Vance.

"Vent increased."

Theron’s expression hardened.

"How much?"

"I’m a tracker."

Not a mage.

Not Milo.

Good.

Kael opened the System.

[Local airflow: unstable]

[Thermal uplift increasing from south-southwest]

He told them.

Galahad adjusted the retreat route immediately.

No debate.

The old third-attempt path was abandoned before they reached the basin.

That was the first victory.

Small.

Invisible.

Nobody died because Galahad had refused to fall in love with the map.

The fourth marker went on the western shelf.

The fifth could not be placed exactly where Milo wanted.

Iris got within eighteen yards.

Close enough.

Sera selected her firing position.

The basalt rib overlooked the engagement ground from roughly twenty feet above the basin floor. A cracked path behind it led to a lower shelf that could serve as retreat if the creature took flight.

Sera tested both routes.

Then tested them again.

Five arrows.

She did not count aloud.

Darius and Kael moved toward the central engagement ground.

Vance came with them.

Galahad stayed behind the frontline but ahead of Sera, positioned where he could see most of the field.

Veyra took the western side with two Iron Vanguard fighters.

The third went south to prepare the first lure.

Not bait.

Noise.

One of the Ash-King’s previous patterns involved investigating repeated metallic impact inside its territory.

They had learned that during the first attempt.

This time they would not stand where the noise originated.

Another lesson paid for in blood.

The Vanguard fighter struck an old iron plate three times.

Then ran.

Not back toward the group.

Sideways into cover.

Everyone waited.

Nothing happened.

The basin breathed heat.

Ash moved in thin sheets.

Sera watched the ribbons.

Darius watched the northern approach.

Kael watched the System.

Vance watched everything.

The fighter struck again from a second point.

Three hard clangs.

Silence.

Then the northern ribbon stopped moving.

Sera saw it first.

Her posture changed.

"Air changed."

Kael looked north.

Nothing.

Darius’s sword came free.

Vance whispered, "Do not look for the body."

Kael understood.

Look for the ash.

A gray layer near the northern shelf folded inward.

Then upward.

The Ash-King emerged.

It did not roar.

It did not announce itself.

Its corpse-like head appeared from smoke first, sunken black eyes set beneath heavy ridges and tiny white pupils fixed on the basin below. Soot leaked continuously from the hollow spines along its neck. With every step, dead gray ash lifted around its feet.

Its enormous body followed.

Gaunt.

Skeletal.

Wrong.

The wings remained folded.

Good.

For now.

The Ash-King looked toward the iron plate.

Not toward them.

The plan had worked.

One step.

Another.

Its right rear leg touched down.

Shifted.

Correction.

Darius noticed.

Kael saw him notice.

Sera had already drawn.

She did not fire.

Too far.

Wrong angle.

The Ash-King lowered its head toward the abandoned noise point.

Vance raised two fingers.

Wait.

Kael’s heartbeat accelerated.

The creature moved another ten yards.

Its smokestack spines released a thicker plume.

The ribbons changed.

Western marker east.

Southern marker northeast.

Bad.

Galahad saw.

He pointed toward the secondary position.

Not yet.

Warning.

The Ash-King stopped.

Its tiny pupils moved.

Not toward the iron.

Toward Darius.

Kael’s stomach tightened.

Vance whispered, "It smelled us."

Darius stepped away from Kael.

Deliberately.

Kael understood.

Separate targets.

Preserve choices.

The Ash-King’s head turned.

Darius moved again.

Not retreating.

Drawing attention.

One black foreleg lifted.

Placed.

Then the other.

The creature began walking toward him.

Sera’s bow followed its movement.

Five arrows.

No shot.

Vance looked at Darius.

"Wait for the landing."

Darius did not look back.

"It is walking."

"Then make it stop."

Kael glanced toward Theron.

"That is your plan?"

"No."

Vance drew his weapon.

"That is his problem."

Darius heard.

The corner of his mouth moved.

Then the Ash-King lunged.

There was no warning beyond a sudden shift of its shoulders.

The massive corpse-like body covered distance far faster than something that size had any right to move.

Darius stepped sideways.

Not away.

The claw hit where he had been.

Basalt shattered.

Darius’s sword flashed across the inner wrist.

Aura struck.

The blade cut between scales.

Not deep.

Enough to draw black blood.

The Ash-King recoiled.

Cinder-dark blood struck the ground and steamed.

Kael moved.

"Frostbite Edge."

Cold wrapped his sword.

He attacked the same wound.

The Ash-King snapped its foreleg back.

Kael missed flesh.

His blade cut only ash.

Then the tail came.

Vance shouted.

Kael saw it too late.

A black wall swept through the basin.

Darius ducked.

Kael tried.

His ribs slowed him.

Vance hit him from the side.

Not with a weapon.

His shoulder.

Both men crashed into the ground as the tail passed over them close enough that Kael felt displaced air hit his face.

The tail struck basalt behind them.

Stone exploded.

Kael landed badly.

Pain tore across his ribs.

He could not breathe for two seconds.

Vance rolled onto one knee.

"You alive?"

Kael forced air into his lungs.

"Yes."

"Then move."

The Ash-King turned.

Sera drew.

Still no shot.

The right rear leg planted.

Shift.

Correction.

This time the inner joint opened toward her.

Sera released.

First arrow.

The shaft crossed the basin.

Ash pushed it left.

She had already accounted for it.

The arrow struck exactly where scale thinned behind the joint.

The Ash-King staggered.

Not fell.

Staggered.

Sera immediately reached back.

Four.

Her hand stopped for less than a heartbeat.

Then found the next shaft.

No panic.

Not yet.

Vance saw the hit.

"That."

Darius moved toward the weakened rear side.

Kael pushed himself upright.

The Ash-King opened its wings.

Everyone froze for half a breath.

The wings looked ruined.

Burned parchment stretched across black bone.

Then they moved.

No thunder.

No roar.

The creature simply became lighter.

Ash erupted beneath it.

Iris shouted from the western shelf.

"LEFT!"

The Ash-King banked left.

Exactly as observed.

Sera drew again.

The torn section of the left membrane opened.

Clear shot.

She fired.

Second arrow.

The shaft punched through the damaged membrane.

Not enough to stop flight.

Enough to widen the tear.

The Ash-King twisted.

Its silent turn became uneven.

Darius moved beneath it.

Too close.

Kael’s stomach dropped.

"Darius!"

The creature’s rear leg came down.

Darius used Glacial—

No.

Again Kael’s mind tried to name something that was not his.

Darius used the Unbroken Sword.

One step.

Sword up.

Aura compressed.

He did not block the descending limb.

He changed where it landed.

Steel struck the inside edge.

Aura redirected a fraction.

Only a fraction.

For anything smaller, meaningless.

For an Ash-King putting its entire weight down, enough.

The right rear foot hit broken basalt at an angle.

The old weakness collapsed under its own mass.

The leg folded.

The Ash-King hit the ground.

The basin shook.

Vance shouted, "NOW!"

Kael ran.

Darius ran.

Theron ran.

Not a finishing charge.

A test of whether the opportunity was real.

Kael reached the side first.

His sword struck a crack between corpse-gray scales.

Frostbite Edge drove cold inward.

The scales darkened.

Cracked.

Not enough.

Darius hit the same point.

Aura.

Precision.

The crack widened.

Vance drove his weapon into it.

Black blood erupted.

Steam hit Kael’s face.

He recoiled.

The Ash-King convulsed.

One wing struck the ground.

The impact knocked all three men apart.

Kael slid across ash.

His sword left his hand.

For one terrible second he watched it skid beyond reach.

The Ash-King’s head turned toward him.

Black eye.

Tiny white pupil.

Chest beginning to glow.

Ember-red.

Kael’s lungs stopped for a different reason.

Galahad shouted from somewhere behind him.

"BREAK!"

Everyone moved.

The first phase ended exactly when it was supposed to.

No greed.

No attempt to force one more attack because they had drawn blood.

Kael rolled, grabbed his sword, and ran toward the secondary position.

Darius withdrew along a separate route.

Vance followed last.

The Ash-King’s chest brightened.

Red became pale.

Sera saw.

Four arrows.

Her hand reached back.

Stopped.

Wrong shot.

The head angle gave her nothing.

She moved instead.

Good.

The Ash-King opened its mouth.

Galahad shouted, "SECONDARY!"

The group crossed behind the basalt ridge as the Choking Cloud erupted across the place they had just abandoned.

The blast erased the first engagement ground.

Ash struck stone with a sound like endless rain thrown by a storm.

Heat rolled over the ridge.

The airflow ribbons vanished inside gray.

But none of Kael’s people were standing there.

Not this time.

Galahad had built the plan around retreating before the Ash-King forced them to.

Kael reached the secondary position and turned.

His ribs burned.

His hands shook.

Darius’s shoulder had reopened.

Vance’s cheek was bleeding from flying stone.

Sera reached the ridge with four arrows.

Iris arrived from the western shelf.

Veyra still had her one shot.

The Ash-King stood somewhere inside its own cloud.

Wounded.

Angry.

Alive.

And for the first time in four attempts, the people fighting it had completed the first exchange without losing anyone.

Galahad looked over the group, counted without speaking, and lifted one hand.

Nobody advanced.

They breathed.

They watched the ash.

They waited to learn what the Ash-King would do next.

The fourth attempt had begun.

It was nowhere close to finished.