I pushed through the dense foliage of the zoo, my armor stained with the blood of beasts and men with Bells and Joakim beside me, their weapons drawn and dripping.

  We broke into the central plaza.

  It was a scene of carnage. The bodies of Cloud fanatics and Black Hand martial artists were piled in heaps, but in the center, Qolius stood tall, his pink robes immaculate, surrounded by his elite guard.

  "High Priest," I called out.

  Qolius turned, his smiling mask glinting in the firelight. "My Lord. You took your time."

  "I ran into some friends," I said, wiping gore from my arm.

  "Amoto is elusive," Qolius reported, pointing toward the inner sanctum of the zoo—the Big Cat Habitat. "He hides behind his pets."

  "I met the generals," I said. "Five of them. Couldn't kill a single one though. They’re slippery."

  "They are disciplined," Qolius agreed. "But they are bleeding. We are winning the attrition war."

  "Let's finish this," I said.

  Qolius nodded to his minions and two of them rushed toward the gates of the Big Cat Habitat, chanting commands that amplified their voices into shockwaves.

  We followed behind our respective divisions.

  We passed the final gates.

  The Big Cat Habitat had been transformed into a fortress. The cages were gone, replaced by open terrain filled with obstacles.

  Waiting for us was the entire remaining army of Black Hand and the 30 Generals.

  In the center, sitting atop an Awakened Griffin was Amoto.

  He wore a white and silver gi that was open at the chest. Diamond rings glittered on his fingers and heavy earrings dragged down his lobes. He looked like a martial arts pimp.

  "Qol!" Amoto shouted, spreading his arms. "Old friend! And his new... master."

  He looked at me.

  "You have been making lots of noise lately, gardener," Amoto said. "First you take my old vassal, then you destroy the Harvest Fleets, after which you conquer Cloud. Hahaha! You have been quite the busy man."

  He stroked the feathers of his Griffin.

  "However," Amoto said, his smile fading. "You have been sloppy."

  One of the 30 Generals stepped forward and let out a sharp whistle.

  The battle began.

  It was total war.

  Both sides rushed each other. The ground shook as Guardian Treants slammed into Awakened Rhinos. Cloud fanatics threw themselves onto the fists of martial artists, trading three lives for one.

  I stayed back, directing the flow of battle with [Dominion], raising walls to block charges and opening pits to swallow beast riders.

  The fight raged for hours.

  One by one, the Generals fell. They were strong, but they couldn't withstand the sheer volume of attacks.

  After four hours, the dust settled.

  Only 5 Generals remained—the Direct Disciples. And Amoto.

  Behind them, 150,000 soldiers stood firm while the Outer, Inner, and Core disciples had been completely wiped out.

  But Amoto didn't seem to care that much.

  Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  "Something is up," Qolius said, walking up to me. "He is too confident. I know Amoto and while he is strong he was not this strong. He would not be this unbothered after losing his core fighting force."

  "He has an ace," I agreed. "He's baiting us."

  "Use the chant," I suggested. "The one that wiped my army. End it."

  Qolius shook his head. "I cannot."

  "Why not?"

  "The Chant is geo locked," Qolius admitted. "The further I am from the Holy City, the weaker it becomes. Out here? It would give them a headache, nothing more."

  "That explains why he ran north," I realized. "He knew your range."

  "Yes."

  "Change formation," I ordered. "Defensive posture. Avoid direct contact."

  The Eden and Cloud forces shifted, pulling back, forming a shield wall.

  Amoto noticed immediately.

  "Boring!" he shouted. "You are ruining the show! You’re not supposed to get cold feet before the main attraction!"

  He sighed, shaking his head.

  "Fuck it," Amoto said. "Bring it out now. They have already ruined the suspense."

  One of the remaining disciples vanished into a cave behind Amoto.

  Moments later, the ground rumbled.

  The disciple returned, levitating a massive object covered in a white tarp and set it down gently in front of Amoto.

  Amoto pulled the tarp off.

  It was a cannon.

  But not a normal cannon. It was a white monstrosity that looked like a railgun and was fifty feet long, radiating with a power that made my walls vibrate.

  "Cats are king when it comes to their environments," Amoto said, patting the barrel. "But they are arrogant. Too arrogant. They lack martial humility."

  He climbed off his Griffin and walked to the weapon.

  "Black Hand, however, does not. We acknowledge and deal with threats when we see them."

  He looked right at me.

  "Speaking of," Amoto grinned. "This was a gift from one particular cat. In case I ran into any... gardening problems."

  He placed his hand on the firing mechanism.

  Amoto fired.

  A beam of white light, solid as a steel bar, shot across the battlefield.

  It hit the 10th Cloud Division.

  The division—100,000 men—were vaporized into mist.

  The beam continued, punching through my walls as if they were made of paper, and carved a trench through the forest behind us for miles.

  Qolius fell to his knees. "My... my flock..."

  He had just lost 10% of his army in a second.

  I stared at the empty space where 100,000 people used to be.

  "Project X," I repeated. "The Turtle Cracker."

  It was designed to pierce defenses.

  "Why?" I thought frantically. "Why would White Hill give him this? It’s a superweapon!"

  Was the mercenary camp a trap? Was this entire war a setup to lure me into range of the cannon?

  "No," I realized. "That’s impossible. White Hill isn't psychic."

  But he was prepared.

  "Cove," I muttered. "Misty. She's days away."

  I looked at the cannon as it was recharging.

  "We don't have days," I said.

  I started to back away.

  The instinct to run, the same instinct that had saved me from the dragon, screamed at me.

  Hide. Go to the garden. Teleport.

  "Run," I whispered.

  "If you run," Goros’s voice cut through, "Eden dies."

  "If you run now," Goros continued, "no one will respect the chain of authority. Qolius will see your weakness and he will declare independence. You will lose Southfield and the army and you will be a leader of nothing."

  I looked at Qolius. He was terrified, yes, but he was watching me. Waiting to see what I would do.

  "Live or die," Goros said. "You will remain on the battlefield. You are in the war now, Kaz. There is no backup plan."

  I clenched my fists and my nails dug into my palms.

  "You're right," I said.

  I forced myself to stop backing away and planted my feet.

  I looked at the cannon. I couldn't block it. My bamboo was useless against it.

  "I can't defend against it," I realized. "And I can't attack it. The range is too far."

  I needed a counter. Something that didn't follow the rules of conventional warfare.

  An idea hit me.

  It was a Hail Mary. A desperate and insane gamble.

  "Hold the line!" I shouted to my terrified troops. "Do not retreat!"

  I closed my eyes.

  "Teleport."

  I vanished from the battlefield and appeared outside of Southfield General Hospital.

  I entered the building and headed to the front desk in the lobby.

  The receptionist looked up and gasped, dropping her pen.

  I was covered in mud and blood and my armor was smoking. I looked like a demon who had crawled out of hell.

  "Mr... Mr. President?" she stammered.

  "I need an appointment," I said, my voice raspy.

  "An... appointment?"

  "Yes," I said, walking past her toward the elevators. "With Siegfried."

  "It's time to even the odds."