<u>Chapter Forty-One</u>


    Everything slowed down as Ambrose’s mind raced for options. His [Infernal Aegis] was likely not going to be enough, and he couldn’t teleport away. Not with whatever the bear horror was doing to shut that down. More hellfire was likely his best bet, even with the acid going over it like a wave over a building.


    Grimly, he set his jaw and, with a tendril of thought, pulled mana from his core to further power his spiritual skill. At the same time, he began to call more fire. Even as he did, he saw the bear’s eyes flash, its jaw flexing as more acid poured from it.


    It felt endless, like a dam had been burst open. Some part of him knew that he wouldn’t be able to avoid or block this attack. There was something behind the acid, giving it a life, a weight, that Ambrose simply couldn’t match.


    Then he saw it, a feint outline behind the bear, something spiritual and yet beyond even that. Just behind it, an image of a tree shimmered. Barely visible, the tree was hard to make out, but it was there, and it was doing something to the monster’s attack, lending_ it far more power than it otherwise would have had.


    So, this is it then, Ambrose thought. He had nothing for this kind of power. No constructs of fire he created, no portal he could open, no spectral chains, no car he could infuse in time, there was nothing he could do in the face of whatever the Leshi Bear was doing.


    He could infuse the ground, using the same trick he had used time and again, but there was no time. Plus, the acid was still coming, like an inevitable tide, it was coming, and it was backed by what he suspected was an Icon.


    This thing was on the cusp of C-Grade, and it was a power he couldn’t hope to match. He had to consider it an achievement that he had done as well as he had so far.


    Ambrose didn’t feel fear, he didn’t feel anger either. Instead, a calmness surrounded him, clearing his mind not like the flame, but a wave of peace.


    It was the brush of acceptance.


    It was the knowledge that he was finally going to rest.


    In his mind, he reached out to Noelle.


    Thank you, girl. You were there for me when I needed you.


    Noelle howled in his mind, a howl of utter brokenness.


    Thank you for your help, I am sorry I won’t be able to keep my agreement.


    Akaroth did not reply.


    Finally, his thoughts turned to where they always belonged.


    Alice.


    He had never been worthy of her. She had always called him her tarnished knight, and there was a reason for that. He was tarnished. Ambrose Severen had been a killer of men. He had spent his life in violence, inflicting nothing but cruelty and evil upon the world.Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Yes, he saved some people, and yes he had tried to do some good in the end. But he was trying to serve clean water from a filthy cup. He had no idea where he was going, but either way, he was going whether he wanted it or not.


    So, in his last moments he thought of his wife. Her wry smile, her sparkling green eyes.


    Her lips on his, hands on his face.


    The…fluff of her pillow? What is that?


    Ambrose eyes rose as a wall of fluff like clouds erupted in front of him, his hellfire lighting them ablaze. The acid crashed into the wall of fluff and flame, and to his shock, held.


    Oh, the fluff was burning down at an alarming rate, but more would just replace it. It gave Ambrose enough breathing room to move away, creating distance between himself and the monster.


    As he did, his eyes widened. Off to the side was Tina, armored in her fluff armor like that of a lamb. Her eyes were shining in the moonlight, her jaw clenched, and a spear apparently made of clouds raised high.


    “To me! For Britannia! For our home! Attaque!”


    From the tree’s and bushes surrounding them, figures rushed out, swords, axes, halberds, and weapons of every kind raised. Arrows poured out from on high, striking the Leshi horror.


    It roared, paws out, head shaking as air reverberated.


    The wall of fluff morphed and a giant goat creature stood there moments later.


    It cocked a fluffy fist and slugged the abomination of nature right in the face.


    “Yeah! Taste my fluffy fist of righteousness!” Tina called, pumping a cloud wreathed fist.


    Ambrose shook his head, and then his body followed. He opened his mouth, and crowed with laughter. He raised Akaroth in salute to the girl, no, the woman in front of him.


    “I thought I asked you to stay behind?” He called out his question to her.


    Tina shrugged,


    “My mother always used to say that the best way to deal with a stubborn man is to make him think he’s won.”


    He tired to fight the grin threatening to overcome his lips, and failed. He turned, twirled Akaroth once and set his mind to focus once more.


    “Alright then. Let’s get this show on the road.”


    He raised Akaroth high, and the storm above boomed its fury as he willed his axe into its true form.


    Akaroth rose into the air, lightning dancing around her, she shimmered, and a moment later, the dragon’s wings beat the air.


    Behold, the mother of storms! She called, her mental voice touching all near her.


    Combatants roared their excitement, and hacked at the bear.


    Tapping his skill, Ambrose fed infernal mana into Akaroth and the dragon began to change. Almost like his armor, molten fire covered the dragon, highlighting each scale with smoldering ember.


    The Leshi horror opened its maw to spray more acid, but Akaroth was ready, and the beam of hellish lightning she unleashed was touched with infernal flames that smashed into the bears jaw.


    It growled with pain as it was pushed back, more arrows peppering it. The goat warrior fell upon it, punching it with fluffy fists like a prize fighter in the ring.


    “Fear the floof!” Tina yelled.


    Acting on an idea, Ambrose flooded the goat warrior with mana.


    The result was a a demon born of fire and clouds. Sanguine and eldritch flame wreathed the fluffy warrior.


    The newborn demon grabbed the bears lower and top jaw, positioning itself around at the head of the beast.


    Akaroth descended and pressed her weight down on the monster. It wreathed, trying to free itself. Acid tried to build up, but the cloud demon didn’t let it happen. With more force than he would have thought possible from a creature made of fluff, it ripped the jaw apart.


    A sickening snapping sound echoed throughout the night, and Akaroth bent her head down to unleash a destructive fury upon it.


    Fire, lightning, and the power of fluff itself was the monsters downfall.


    It may have been nearly C-Grade, but it wasn’t C-Grade yet, and whatever Icon it was using didn’t fully come into play until you had actually reached C-Grade in truth.


    Ambrose and his surprising allies brought too much power to bare upon it.


    A moment later, it twitched, and then went still.


    A notification trumpeted in his mind.


    They had done it.