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My heartbeat thunders.They won’t back down.But I must stall them. “The Overlord uses you, or tries to,” I say, voice raw. “He allied with the Red Purnas. They might offer you illusions of power, but in truth, they want to harness your might for their own ends.”

Bladrik tilts his head, considering. “We are not ignorant. The Overlord’s approach is cunning. But a temporary alliance can amuse us until we’ve grown strong enough to tear him apart.”

Their single-minded thirst for devastation chills me. “You’ll face an alliance of your own—purnas, humans, maybe even orcs,” I warn, hoping to sow caution. “We’re not as weak as you think.”

He sneers, baring fangs. “We relish the challenge. And you—will you stand against us? Or bend your knee?”

Gargoyles close in, hissing, claws scraping stone. My illusions flicker, but I can’t hope to cloak myself from so many. Fear clenches my throat. Yet, at the center of that terror, a flicker of defiance burns.I have Elira’s trust. I can’t let the gargoyle side devour me.

Taking a shaky breath, I glare at Bladrik. “I stand with those who want to protect, not destroy. If that means opposing you, so be it.”

An echoing roar tears from his throat. “Then you die with the rest,” he growls, stepping closer, claws extended.

My muscles tense, every instinct screaming to flee. But I hold my ground. “I accept that risk.”

For a moment, I sense a wave of admiration from some gargoyles, as though they respect my audacity. But Bladrik’s lips curl in contempt. “You waste your potential.”

He raises a taloned hand, energy crackling around his stony skin—some savage magical force. “Your gargoyle side calls to us, yet you deny it. I will show you our power.”

Panic surges.Elira’s illusions are far away. No rescue in sight.My only hope is to stall further. “Wait,” I gasp, stepping back. “Fight me if you must, but let me speak to your clan. Many of them might prefer to avoid an unwinnable war. You risk facing two armies at once.”

He huffs a humorless laugh. “Arrogant. You pretend we’d fail. We overcame slumber and cursed wards.”

A bead of sweat slides down my temple. “You overcame ancient wards, yes, but your numbers might be fewer than the combined forces arrayed against you. If you rush in blindly, the purnas’ new sealing spell could trap you again.”

His eyes narrow at that, a flicker of caution crossing his gaze. “They plan to bind us again?”

“It’s their last resort,” I say. “But they’ll use it if forced. If you’d only wait, avoid the Overlord’s manipulations, perhaps find a path that doesn’t end in another bloodbath.”

Some gargoyles behind Bladrik exchange uncertain looks. Bladrik, however, snarls, bright eyes raging. “Our path is vengeance, half-breed. I offered you a place at my side, and you spat on it. Get out of my sight before I tear you limb from limb.”

My chest heaves. I sense the moment slipping away.He won’t yield. But maybe I’ve sown a seed of doubt among his kin.“Then I go,” I say, mustering calm. “But remember my warning. The Overlord and Red Purnas use you as a weapon. They’ll discard you once they have no more need.”

Bladrik advances another step, towering over me. My gargoyle essence quivers, but I lock my knees, refusing to flinch. He leans in, breath hot with the reek of sulfur. “If we meet on the battlefield, I’ll claim your gargoyle side myself. And you’ll beg for mercy.”

A tremor runs through my limbs. “Then I’ll see you there,” I manage, voice tight.

He snorts, dismissing me with a flick of his claws. “Begone.”

The gathered gargoyles part, some snarling, others eyeing me with curiosity or disdain. Heart slamming in my chest, I spin and make my way back up the rocky path, illusions flickering around me. Each step feels like a victory and defeat all at once: I’m alive, but I’ve failed to dissuade him. At least I delayed his immediate wrath.Elira, I hope you’re ready.

The sun hangs low in the sky by the time I crest the ridge. Anxiety churns in my gut. Did I buy enough time for Elira’s forces? The Overlord and Red Purnas remain a wild card, and the gargoyles—led by a merciless warlord—are poised to strike. My mind replays Bladrik’s snarling threat, the savage pull of gargoyle blood.I feel it even now, a throbbing echo in my veins.

Suddenly, illusions flicker up the slope: faint white lights. Elira’s signal. My breath hitches. She must be near.Thank the Goddess.I follow the illusions around a bend, scanning for her or the allied purnas. In a shallow ravine, I spot the glint of metal—armed humans, orcs, and purnas forming a defensive line. Elira stands at the forefront, cloak whipping in the wind. Relief surges at her sight.

She rushes to meet me, fear and hope mingling in her gaze. “You made it.” Her chest heaves with tension. “What happened?”

I grimace, stepping aside so we’re somewhat out of earshot from the watchers. “I found Bladrik. He wanted me to join him, threatened me when I refused. They plan to march soon. But I sensed a flicker of hesitation among some gargoyles—he might not speak for all.”

Elira’s jaw tightens. “Then we have a chance to splinter his forces, if we can hold them off or sow doubt.”

I nod, though Bladrik’s unwavering hatred lingers in my thoughts. “He made it clear they want vengeance, especially against purnas. The Overlord might be offering them resources or feeding that hatred for his own ends.”

She exhales, illusions rippling with stress. “The Overlord and Red Purnas could arrive any moment from the east. We scouted glimpses of their banners near the old trade route. Gargoyles approach from the west. We’re caught in the middle, but we’re dug in with illusions and wards. If Bladrik tries to push through or join forces with the Overlord, we’ll do everything to stop them.”

A hush forms between us, the enormity of the upcoming clash pressing down. I ache to draw her into my arms, to whisper that we’ll survive, but the presence of so many watchers stays my hand. Instead, I settle for a gentle brush of my knuckles against hers. “I told him we’d fight if forced.”

Her eyes soften. “Thank you,” she whispers, voice low enough that only I catch.