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“The mine!” I said.

From behind, the shouts and screams of the insane crowd became much louder.

“They’ll be here any minute,” said Mudhoof. “Let’s get inside!”

We hurried down the rail line until we reached the mine entrance. I stopped and frowned.

A huge metal door sealed the way into the mine. It shimmered with a dull silver light.

Mudhoof and Thorm pushed at the door but it didn’t budge. The shimmering increased when they touched it.

“It’s magically held,” Feign said, looking worried. “And from what I can tell it is quite powerful.”

The terrifying yells undulated from the forest. I could now see figures approaching on the trail and from the surrounding trees. We were running out of time.

“Stand back!” Mudhoof said. He raised his uber ax and swung at the door. The metal shimmered with the impact but he didn’t even scratch it.

“Let me try this,” Feign said. He threw a snowball and when it struck the metal, the entire door became frozen. “Hit it again,” he said.

Mudhoof did. The ice on the door shattered away and the metal door showed a deep gash.

“That’s it,” I said. “Mudhoof and Feign, you two keep at it. Thorm and I will slow those freaks down to buy you time.”

They did not need encouragement as Feign threw another snowball and Mudhoof swung again.

I nodded to Thorm, “Let’s do this.” The Holy Knight nodded in return and we raced up along the rail line.

We halted several dozen paces up from the entrance. Mounds of rock and ore were piled up on either side. It formed a gully in which I hoped would keep us from being flanked and funnel the town folk toward us.

“I have to admit something,” said Thorm. The steel of his great broadsword glinted with sunlight.

“What’s that?” I said. A scattering of people broke from the trees and charged at us.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he said, and smirked. His mustache arched comically with his mischievous smile.

I laughed, despite myself. “Yeah, me too.”

Behind us the reverberations boomed as the others continued to hammer at the door.

Suddenly, a pair of townspeople scrabbled over a pile of ore to our side and leapt at us.

Thankfully, Phlixx saw them first and shouted a warning.

I instantly switched the bow in my grip to my sword and swung, catching one of them across the chest. He collapsed. Thorm easily dispatched the other one.

“Vee,” Thorm said, as he took out another surprise attacker. “What’s that over there?” I looked to where he nodded.

Back along the rail line and wedged up against the rocks was a shack.

“Dunno,” I said. “Outhouse?” I switched to my bow and fired into the oncoming crowd. They would be on us soon.

“Or maybe a way into the mines?” Thorm suggested. He pulsed his magical barrier and two people bounced off it. The knight quickly took them out.

He could be right. This was a game after all. If we were supposed to gain entrance to the mine, perhaps the method was nearby.

Thorm glanced at me. “Go!” he said. “Take a quick look. I’ll hold them back.”

There was no time to debate this, but it pained me to leave him here alone against such great odds. Still, I nodded once and moved backwards a few steps, firing several volleys into the approaching mass.

The horde was now streaming from the trees and charging at Thorm in a full run.

“Go!” Thorm shouted. He swung his broadsword, doing his best to keep from being surrounded.

I turned and ran. The second I crossed into the shadows of the looming rock face I switched on my Shadow ability. Hopefully, this would give me several seconds before the crowd noticed me.

The shack door was chained and fastened with a padlock. I barked a laugh, swung my sword at the wood of the door and shattered it. Inside was an array of mining tools; pickaxes, shovels, a wheel-barrel. Nothing obvious that would unseal a magically closed door.

“Oh,” said Phlixx from my shoulder. “Look, candy!” He pointed a stack of crates, one of which was open. In it was an even row of red sticks.

Dynamite.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

I scooped up a handful of dynamite and put them in my inventory. When I tried to grab more I stopped. The rest looked rotted through and probably unstable.

“These will have to do,” I said. Outside I looked to Thorm.

The Holy Knight had been forced back several steps and was swinging wildly. He was no longer using his magical barrier. No doubt, he had exhausted its limit and was waiting for it to recharge.

Then the surge overtook him, dozens of people clamoring over him. He was instantly smothered and couldn’t swing his sword.

“Thorm!” I shouted and began in his direction to help.

But before I could take more than a couple of running steps, a bright light exploded from under the mass of people. It grew in intensity, like a sun, and I had to look away and close my eyes. People shrieked, not in rage, but in agony.

After a few moments, the light faded, and I looked.

Thorm stood with his armor glowing brightly. At his feet and all around him were mounds of white ash which were picked up by the wind. The people that attacked him and those within several dozen paces had been completely incinerated.

He had cast a Nova spell.

The town folk beyond the spell’s radius had actually stopped to cover their faces. They now recovered and surged forward at Thorm, raging and screaming.

Thorm saw me and I held up a stick of dynamite. He shouted, “Get it to the door! Now!”

Before I could protest, the people were on him again. The knight swung his sword, fighting with a rabid energy.

I forced down the instinct to join him. He was right, I needed to get the dynamite to the door, so I ran.

The metal of the door was badly mauled by Mudhoof and Feign’s efforts. “I think we got this,” Mudhoof said. Feign tossed another snowball, and the minotaur swung his ax.

The door shattered. Pieces of frozen metal caved inward and fell in a pile on the ground.

I looked at the dynamite in my hand with disappointment. “What do I do with this then?”

There was a commotion behind us. As I turned, I froze in shock.

The trees of the forest were parting and the gigantic form of the Demon King emerged. He did not walk, but floated along the ground. The townsfolk whooped and hollered at his arrival and stopped running. They parted like a living sea for their God to pass through.

Thorm still fought, but once the Demon King appeared he knew the jig was up. With one final swing which cast his attackers aside like rag-dolls, he turned toward us and ran.

But he was too late.

The Demon King paused and lifted his huge wooden staff. He pointed it at the fleeing knight. An arc of black lightning shot from the end of the staff and hit Storm, fully enveloping him.

“Thorm!” I cried out. When I took a step forward Mudhoof grabbed my arm.

“No!” Mudhoof said, with a look of dismay. “We can’t help him now.”

He was right, but I had to try. I summoned an arrow and fired it blindly at the Demon King. But before it crossed half the distance it ricocheted off a magical barrier of some kind.

Thorm twisted and contorted under the intensity of the black lightening. His eyes widened, and he seemed to look in our direction.

I gasped. His flesh was lined with thick black veins.

The townsfolk resumed their assault, only this time they ignored Thorm and surged around him. They raced toward us.

“We have to go,” Feign said. He tossed a snowball out onto the rail line and a patch of ice formed. This only slowed the towns folk’s crazed progress.