The moment Alan’s push reclaimed even a single blood-slicked step of ground, the creature answered with violence. The pressure in the air shifted again, deeper this time, settling into my bones. An invisible hand seemed to grasp my throat.

  Its torso-maw slowed, the grinding teeth retracting just enough to reveal the inner cavity beyond them. It wasn’t a stomach, but a chamber—smooth, ribbed, layered with translucent membranes that pulsed faintly with burning heat.

  Then it inhaled.

  Every corpse I had pinned, every half-dissolved husk I’d ruined with Rot, strained toward it. The ground groaned. Skeletal hands anchored into shadow cracked and splintered as the pull intensified, authority grinding against authority.

  I felt it immediately—like someone had hooked a chain into my sternum and started pulling. My HP began to plummet.

  “Mike!” Thomas shouted. “Whatever you’re doing—stop!”

  I couldn’t. The moment I let go, the dead would surge forward again. And this time, they wouldn’t just fuel the boss. They’d become ammunition.

  None of that mattered, though. The connection through my shadows broke like fragile ceramic. My control was too incomplete, too brittle to compete with a boss.

  The chamber inside the creature bloated rapidly, membranes stretching as acidic vapor bled from its seams. The ground beneath it smoked. Earth blackened and bubbled as if the world itself was being digested.

  Then the boss lowered its torso and slammed it forward. Time seemed to slow—then my world shook with explosive force.

  Not outward—downward—as if gravity itself had inverted beneath the shield wall. Corpses didn’t fly. They collapsed inward, compressed into a dense slurry of flesh, bone, and caustic bile that surged forward in a single wave.

  “BRACE!” Richard roared, but it was too late.

  The impact hit like a collapsing building.

  Marcus was lifted clear off his feet, his shield buckling inward as the corrosive tide splashed over it. Nicole screamed as acid hissed across her armor, eating through demon flesh and splashing against steel alike.

  Alan caught the worst of it.

  His shield locked, feet dug in, muscles screaming as the wave slammed into him full force. The metal wall behind us rang again—louder this time—the vibration rattling through my teeth.

  Rebekah didn’t hesitate.

  Green light exploded from her hands, raw and uncontrolled, knitting flesh and muscle even as acid burned through clothing. Thomas followed a heartbeat later, his barrier flaring white-gold as he absorbed what he could—then nearly collapsing under the strain.

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  “Front line!” Thomas shouted. “You’re burning—stay up!”

  My HP dipped sharply again. Not from any physical damage but from holding. The shadows trembled as my minions crumbled.

  The boss reared back, its chamber already refilling as it dragged what remained toward itself again. It wasn’t fast—but it didn’t need to be. It felt inevitable.

  This was an execution.

  Vast Shadows surged as the ground boiled. If I couldn’t stop it, then I’d join it. What minions remained flew forward in a frenzy, joining the slurry of corpses being devoured.

  “Everyone, NOW!” I yelled.

  Windslash, Rot, Freezing Pulse, Godless Arrow—a slurry of ranged abilities detonated against the boss’s maw. Flesh sloughed. Bone softened. Acid met rot and neutralized into hissing sludge midair.

  The boss choked.

  A disruption in its rhythm. It was enough to buy us a chance.

  King Spikey left my side for the first time, rushing forward.

  The Ivory Lance came down in a single, titanic arc, shattering frozen corpse-mass into a storm of razor-edged fragments. Spikey #1 and #2 followed, zweihander and cleaver hacking into exposed joints, tearing into anything that still twitched.

  My HP ticked up.

  The boss recoiled. Not far—but enough. A brief moment of respite allowed my minions to bridge the gap in our shield wall. Marcus scrambled to his feet and rushed back into the blender.

  We were stabilizing—and then the boss did something new.

  The membranes inside its torso split. The chamber inverted, and from within, something stood up.

  Compressed demon corpses fused by acid and pressure into a single, writhing mass—too many arms, mouths screaming silently as it was expelled forward like a battering ram.

  It hit the shield wall dead center.

  Marcus went down.

  Not dead—but crushed to one knee as his shield shattered, fragments spinning away. Nicole barely caught him, dragging him back as Richard stepped in, holy aura flaring bright enough to hurt my eyes.

  “Marcus!” Rebekah screamed. A blinding green light surged from her hands.

  Healing flared again—desperate, ugly, but effective. HP climbed, though the fatigue of battle remained.

  The construct reared back, but Lucas was faster.

  Windslash tore through the air, invisible force carving into the mass and ripping limbs free in a spray of acid and bone. Bruce followed, daggers flashing as he severed tendons and ligaments, dismantling it piece by piece.

  Jessica’s arrow punched through its center while Evee unloaded devastating rifle shots. Black, viscous blood burst outward in a gory mist with each impact.

  The construct recoiled—and the boss staggered backward.

  For the first time since it arrived, it lost balance. We were dancing on the edge of life and death, and it had slipped first. There was no room for half-measures.

  I raised my hand and channeled Rot directly into its torso-maw, pouring as much MP as I could through the channel. The Membranes rapidly blackened. Teeth cracked. The chamber convulsed violently as its internal cycle collapsed.

  Pain tore through me and my HP plummeted. The taste of iron flooded my mouth as I spat blood.

  My three generals had already aligned for the final strike. Spikey #1 and #2 launched King Spikey through the air. He cleared the shield wall, flew past the construct, and vanished into the maw of the devourer.

  My ears rang as the boss screamed.

  Armor plates detonated outward in a gory explosion as King Spikey burst free from its back, leaving a ragged hole several feet wide through its worm-like frame.

  The massive body crashed forward, acid spilling harmlessly as its internal systems failed. It convulsed once—twice—then went still.

  The remaining demons faltered, then broke. The wave collapsed into chaos, and within moments, it was over.

  I sank to one knee, breathing hard, my HP hovered dangerously low. The pull faded. The pressure lifted. We were alive—just barely.

  Alan leaned on his shield, laughing breathlessly. Richard dropped his mace and clutched his shield heavily.

  Rebekah collapsed beside Thomas, both shaking. Jessica lowered her bow.

  The demon wave was over. We had endured.

  And somewhere deep inside me, something settled.