Sitting on a crate outside the group’s tent, Davon watched the sun rise, staring gloomily at the crimson hues. His mind was a mess. Repeated images of his companions dying in front of him intermingled with thoughts of what he could’ve done differently.

  How would things have turned out if he had been able to use his runes? Or if he had acted more quickly? If he’d been faster with his bow, maybe he could’ve saved Kai. Or if he’d been better with his blades, he could’ve at least prevented Lyla’s death.

  Furious with himself and the situation, Davon did his best to stop thinking about ‘what-if’s.

  What happened, happened, he thought grimly. Thinking about it won’t change a thing.

  Davon’s mind turned to the assignment they had been given, to take out the forge in Heinburg’s outskirts. A ridiculous idea struck him. His rage battled briefly with a wave of fear as he debated with himself.

  Rage won.

  At that moment, Davon decided he would accomplish the task alone.

  In his current state, he was likely to get himself killed. He accepted this fact. His arms were still physically weak, and he still couldn’t draw on his Reliquary. But he couldn't just sit around the Vanguard camp, seething with anger and waiting for his companions to resurrect.

  His fury clarified into a simmering defiance as he thought about it more and more. Success meant satisfying his need for revenge, at least a little bit, and advancing the war effort. Failure meant he would be reunited with his companions faster.

  Davon stood up and started for the command tent. As he walked, he braced himself for an argument with Grant and Emma. He knew damn well neither of them would be willing to send him into what was essentially a suicide mission.

  But he was going. He had made up his mind.

  Once he reached the command tent, he steeled his resolve and pushed his way inside. Grant was leaning over the map table while Emma was sitting off to the left, inspecting her bow.

  “Davon!” Grant exclaimed, straightening up. “What are you doing here this early?”

  “Here to let you know I’ll proceed with that forge assignment.” Davon crossed his arms and locked eyes with the old Revenant. “Alone.”

  Grant furrowed his brows. “That’s suicide, Davon.”

  “I know. But I’m going anyway.”

  “No, I won’t allow —”

  “Grant, hold,” Emma interrupted. She looked up at the old Revenant with a stern expression, then turned to Davon with the same look. “I only want to ask you one thing. Do you think this will help you?”

  “Of course, weakening the enemy will —”

  “No, kiddo, that’s not what I asked.” Emma held Davon’s gaze grimly. “Do you think this will help you?”

  Davon took a moment to consider Emma’s words, sorting through the chaos in his mind. Eventually, he decided to give the most honest answer.

  “I… don’t know. I hope it will.”

  Emma held his gaze for a few more seconds before her expression softened. “Good. Then go ahead.”

  Having said her piece, Emma returned her attention to her bow. Grant looked at her in bewilderment, but when she showed no sign of speaking further, he turned to Davon with a sigh.

  “I still think this is a bad idea, but if you insist, I won’t stop you. When you’re ready, go to the Boneshaper, Taz. He’ll supply you the explosives.”

  With a quick nod, Davon turned to leave.

  “Oh, Davon?” Emma called, a tinge of anger seeping into her tone. “Give them hell for me.”

  “Gladly.”

  With that, Davon set off for the Boneshaper’s tent.

  Memories of the previous night kept surfacing as he retraced the familiar route. And with the memories came questions.

  Why were these undead Crimson Reavers so challenging to fight? When the group had faced them before, they’d been nothing but cannon fodder. And the trio had grown significantly more powerful since then. What had changed about the enemy to make them such lethal opponents?

  Lost in thought, Davon barely realized that he’d arrived at the Boneshaper’s tent. Only the sound of Taz clearing his throat pulled Davon out of his own mind.

  “Thank ye for the intervention last night, friend,” Taz said, leaning his elbows against the table. “But I assume ye didn’t come ‘ere for praise. How can I help ye?”

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  “I need explosives,” Davon stated flatly. “To destroy a Crimson Reaver forge. Emma’s orders.”

  Taz nodded and turned to the stacks of crates behind him. Swiftly rearranging the crates, the Boneshaper dug out a smaller one from the pile and placed it on the table.

  The object was half a foot tall and two foot in both width and length, with no obvious markings or distinguishing features. Davon undid the latches on the crate’s sides and lifted the lid. Within were five cylindrical objects, seemingly carved from bone and covered in runes.

  “Those’ll level just about anythin’ you need ‘em to,” Taz explained. Lifting one of the objects, he showed Davon a small, circular wooden cap on top. “Just place ‘em where ye need, push the button on top, and they’ll make a connection with ye. When ye’re a safe enough distance away, tug on that connection like ye’re activatin’ a rune on yer Reliquary. Then, pray to whatever ye pray to that ye’re far enough.”

  “Out of curiosity, what is a ‘safe distance’ in this scenario?” Davon asked, watching Taz place the explosives back in the crate.

  The question provoked an amused chuckle from the Boneshaper. “Couple hundred feet will do ye for the initial explosion. The debris? Anythin’ less than a mile… if ye don’t have cover, ye might catch some.”

  Satisfied, Davon closed the lid on the explosives crate and stuffed it into his enchanted material bag. He had a sudden worry that the explosives might somehow go off while in his pack, but he pushed those thoughts away.

  They can’t go off without my direct command, he reminded himself. Hopefully.

  With the explosives safely stowed, Davon headed for the camp’s exit. He tried to prepare himself mentally for the task ahead, but as soon as he left the camp, he found himself growing jittery with nerves.

  Gently, he tugged at the connection between himself and his Reliquary. When he received a familiar feeling in response, he let out an audible sigh of relief. Despite everything that had happened in the fast few days, he could at least be glad that his connection to the Reliquary was finally restored.

  He reached out to one of the blank rune slots, trying to shape it with his mind as he had done with the Shadow-step rune.

  The weapon on his back shuddered as Davon finished the process. Davon’s relief increased as he tried invoking his new rune and met no resistance in the connection. He smiled to himself as he watched his body turn transparent.

  I don’t have to rely on Emma for that particular trick anymore, he thought. That’s something.

  Nearly invisible, he strode towards Heinburg’s walls, pondering what other tools he could add to his arsenal.

  —

  Halfway through Davon’s trek, snow began falling once again. It was a moderate snow, just enough for him to feel even more confident in not being seen. Davon was thankful. He needed every turn of luck he could get.

  His chosen entry point was the exact same spot he and his companions had used when scouting the city. He made his way there without incident. It was just a bit to the side of the gates, far enough not to be suspicious, but close enough for him to get eyes on the guards.

  Davon waited for the right moment, when the two guards patrolling the ramparts were farthest from each other, before Shadow-stepping up onto the wall. He felt a slight burn in the back of his head, but his Invisibility wasn’t broken by the action. Davon allowed himself a slight smile.

  Making a note to be careful with his expenditure of energy, he stuck to the shadows as he entered Heinburg proper. He tried to move faster. His information from the Vanguard scouts gave him the general direction he needed to go, but it would still be a chore to locate the forge’s exact position.

  After roughly an hour of weaving through enemy patrols and slinking down alleys, Davon finally laid eyes on the forge. The Crimson Reavers had constructed it when they took the city. It was a relatively small, open-fronted building with walls made of the same carapace-like material the Crimson Reavers seemed to use for all of their construction.

  Within, Davon could see a Crimson Reaver soldier working the forge, hammering away at something. There were three other soldiers standing guard around the forge.

  Davon cursed internally. He would need to remove these soldiers before continuing with his plan. Though he could place the explosives while invisible, he couldn’t risk them being found while he retreated to a safe distance.

  He observed the Crimson Reavers for a while, considering his options. Two of the guards stood by the forge. The other constantly patrolled up and down the street.

  Davon tried to formulate a plan, but he threw each idea away almost as soon as he came up with it. They all contained too much risk. If he made a single mistake, the guards would bring in reinforcements, and he would have to retreat.

  Davon realized at that point how much he’d begun to rely on Kai and Lyla. Every hole in his skillset and defenses was filled neatly by the other two. He knew he could count on them to pick up the slack when he made a mistake. With that safety gone, Davon found himself hesitant to act.

  At the same time, though, he knew that if he waited for the perfect moment and a perfect plan, he would be waiting until the sun set.

  So, instead, he decided to take a page out of Kai’s book.

  He always did claim the simplest solutions were the best, Davon thought as he raised his bow, waiting for the patrolling guard to be as far away as possible.

  Taking careful aim, Davon slowly pulled back the bowstring, testing his strength. He allowed himself another grim smile. The dull ache in his arms remained, but there was no sign of the weakness he’d felt in the past few days. With renewed confidence, Davon let his arrow fly.

  It found its mark in the back of the patrolling soldier’s head.

  The Crimson Reaver fell dead with a loud clang, attracting the attention of the other three. Davon cursed himself for not considering this. He’d been fighting too long on muddy surfaces which absorbed such noises.

  After a brief exchange of words, one of the guards stepped away from the forge to inspect the sound, while the other continued standing guard. The soldier at the forge also stopped working, grabbed his weapon, and stepped outside.

  Realizing this might be his only chance, Davon dashed out of cover, still invisible He detached his bow’s limbs as he ran. The two guards didn’t even see him coming.

  Davon struck with both blades from the same side, dragging them across a guard’s stomach. Blood and guts spilled from the wound as Davon’s blades effortlessly cut through the soldier’s armor.

  The effort cut off Davon’s Invisibility, but the other guard was so shocked by the sudden assault that he failed to react in time. Davon stabbed upwards with both of his blades, piercing one through the soldier’s neck and the other up through his jaw.

  Pulling the blades free, Davon let his foe’s body fall unceremoniously to the ground. He reattached his weapon as swiftly as he could, but by the time he raised the bow, a war horn was echoing through the city streets. Annoyed, Davon loosed a shot at the remaining guard, cutting short his call for alarm.

  But the damage had been done. Even as Davon reached for the explosives in his pack, he heard the unmistakable sound of a massive creature bounding across the rooftops in his direction.

  With a curse under his breath, he invoked the rune of Invisibility and made a run for it.