Veldon looked down at the Dwarf.
He had never seen a Dwarf before. He used to think the Tarnished were short enough.
This one barely reached his chest in height—
Yet in width, he rivaled Veldon himself.
For a fleeting moment, Veldon wondered whether this too was some god's blessing. The Erdtree made men grow tall. Perhaps another deity made them grow short—and broad.
The Dwarf charged another Rat Ogre.
Even Veldon found the strength within that compact frame terrifying. Against lesser Skaven, twin blades might reap faster harvests—but against Rat Ogres, the Dwarf's axe struck with devastating weight.
A hammering blow from a Rat Ogre forced Veldon to sidestep. His swords carved deep wounds across its flesh—
But he could not sever a limb as cleanly as the Dwarf had.
The blades were sharp.
Too light.
He stepped back again, evading another swing—
Then let the twin swords fall.
From his back, he drew the greatsword of the King's Army.
The Rat Ogre was slowing now, blood pouring from its injuries. Madness gleamed in its eyes as it roared and charged.
Veldon lowered his body like a lion preparing to pounce. Muscles tensed like drawn bowstrings.
The instant the monster raised its arm—
He struck upward with all his strength.
The heavy blade, vast yet keen, split the creature from jaw to crown.
It died before it understood.
Blood and brain matter sprayed higher even than the Rat Ogre Gotrek had felled.
Some of the foul fluid splashed Felix. He resisted the urge to wipe it away, focusing instead on his own foe.
He slipped under a claw, cut between two fingers and up through muscle to the base of the palm. The Rat Ogre shrieked and recoiled. Felix ducked low and opened its belly—
When it bent to clutch its spilling guts, his blade drove up through its soft jaw and into its malformed brain.
—
Mia advanced with the line, though she kept to the rear. The melee ahead made wide-area fire difficult.
A flame whip formed in her hand.
She lashed it at a pale-furred Rat Ogre—then released it at the moment of contact.
The fire coiled like a living serpent, wrapping the monster from head to toe. Within seconds the flaming coils vanished—but their task was done.
The Rat Ogre ignited.
Its fur crackled.
Flames surged skyward in moments.
Blinded by agony, the monster rolled wildly across the ground, crushing dozens of unfortunate slave rats beneath its bulk.
A seasoned mercenary captain raised his hand.
Four or five spears thrust into the rolling inferno.
Mia surveyed the field.
Under the Erdtree's blessing, the mercenaries' combat strength had soared. Not all could duel Rat Ogres like Gotrek, Veldon, or Felix—but human unity proved decisive.
They hunted like dogs surrounding a boar, spearing at openings.
Some Rat Ogres fell to spears.
Others to lead shot from handguns fired from windows above. The towering brutes made perfect targets.
More citizens joined the fight.
From distant quarters came horns and drums.
The rulers of Nuln had finally understood—the green flames were no illusion.
Soldiers were mobilizing.
Gradually, the Skaven withdrew from this street.
Felix wished he knew the state of the whole city—but here, at least, victory had been won.
Through collective effort.
Then Gotrek's booming voice shattered the aftermath.
"Where's the priest?! Where is he?!"
"Over there!" someone shouted.
Mia sat upon a relatively clean ale barrel, enduring the mercenaries' reverence.
Word had spread: the golden blessing had come from her.
Men of many faiths asked which god she served. They pledged respect to her merciful deity.
Gotrek shoved through the crowd, axe in hand.
"You the priest?!" he demanded, glaring like a bull.
A Slayer sought glorious death.
Every wound was progress.
Yet after that battle, strengthened by the Erdtree's grace, Gotrek bore no fresh injuries.
He had even regrown teeth long lost.
His blind eye itched faintly.
It infuriated him.
"What's wrong?" Mia tilted her head.
Seeing her clearly, Gotrek's fury dimmed slightly.
He had imagined a bald, raving old cleric he could reasonably punch.
Not—
This.
He huffed.
"Listen here, manling. You heal a warrior when he asks for it!"
The mercenaries stared.
Felix hurried forward.
"What he means," Felix said smoothly, "is that you should conserve your strength and not overexert yourself."
Laughter rippled—
Until Gotrek's glare silenced it.
Felix bowed deeply.
"You have our gratitude, my lady. Without you, this would have cost dearly."
Mia smiled faintly.
Her vanity was thoroughly satisfied.
Gotrek snorted steam through his nose and scattered the onlookers with threats.
Then he looked to Veldon.
"Well fought, manling."
Veldon inclined his head politely, though inwardly he wondered—
How old is he to call me that?
Gotrek turned to Felix.
"You did well too!"
Felix accepted the praise. He had slain a Rat Ogre alone.
Less than a year ago, he had merely been an expelled student.
"So what now?" Gotrek asked suddenly.
"Huh?"
"You led the rats here. They're weak. I need something worth killing."
Felix blinked—then remembered.
"We must reach the palace district! The Skaven Grey Seer Thanquol orchestrates this attack! He plans to assassinate Nuln's nobles!"
"Your ruler, not mine," Gotrek grunted.
"But killing a Grey Seer…" His tone deepened. "That would be worthy. Even dying in the attempt."
"Yes. Exactly."
"But there's a problem," Felix added.
"What?"
"We'd have to fight across the entire city."
"That's not a problem," Mia said quietly.
"We have an army."
Felix looked around.
Mercenaries. Citizens. Armed and furious.
Mia stepped atop the barrel again.
"Citizens of Nuln!"
Her voice carried clearly across the quieting battlefield.
"These vile rats burned our homes! Murdered our loved ones! Brought famine and plague to our streets!"
"But justice stands with us! We have slain countless monsters—but it is not enough! If we do not drive them out, they will enslave you and devour your families!"
"Are you ready to reclaim your city?"
"Yes!"
The roar shook the street.
When she promised further blessing, cheers erupted.
Felix grabbed her arm. "How many more times can you grant that power?"
"Two more like before."
He grinned.
Perfect.
As Mia began walking toward the palace district—following the pull of Grace—the crowd parted instinctively.
They needed a leader.
She became one.
Then she realized—
She should not be at the very front.
She should be in the center.
Too late now.
She raised her Golden Sword.
"Forward! I will bless your righteous battle!"
Veldon, Felix, and Gotrek surged ahead.
Behind them, the crowd flowed like a raging tide.
They met little resistance on the climb toward the inner city. The outer districts burned, buildings collapsing in green flame.
Within the fortified inner walls, noble estates stood intact.
Ahead, black-uniformed city guards clashed with Stormvermin.
Mia slipped quietly toward the center of the formation and cast two more blessings.
Golden light enveloped the irregular army.
"Glory to the Erdtree!" Veldon roared, charging alone at the forefront.
To his astonishment, others echoed the cry.
It felt strange—like foreigners passionately praising your homeland.
Both Stormvermin and city guards paused at the sight of this third force.
A Skaven warlock screeched and began chanting, green warp-light gathering in its claws.
Mia saw it between shoulders.
Gold and green flared simultaneously.
She cast again.
Erdtree's Protection.
A translucent golden film enveloped every blessed warrior.
The Skaven sorcerer grinned wickedly as its plague spell burst among the humans—
Green fumes billowed—
It anticipated boils, rot, dissolution—
Instead—
Humans burst from the smoke unharmed.
Golden light burned in their eyes.
The spell had failed.
They did not even slow.
The sorcerer faltered, trying to conjure a shield—
Too late.
A massive blade cleaved it apart.
Its body was trampled into paste.
The mercenaries crashed into the melee.
With Stormvermin already engaged by elite guards, none faced the new assault head-on.
The tide swept them away.
Rat Ogres had been worse.
And they had a priest.
Mia remained sheltered within the formation, maintaining blessings rather than unleashing indiscriminate fire.
She occasionally cut down stray rats that slipped through.
"Skaven in the palace!" the captain of the guard shouted. "They seek our lawful ruler!"
The great palace gates stood open—prepared earlier for a grand ball.
The Skaven had used that opportunity.
Guards lay dead at the entrance.
"Reclaim the palace!" Felix shouted.
A city soldier lay bleeding at the steps, throat cut.
He felt death approaching.
He saw the reinforcements scatter the rats.
Victory.
That was enough.
He prepared to follow Morr peacefully—
Until Mia saw him.
She slid to his side, pressing her sacred seal to his chest.
Urgent Heal.
His throat sealed.
He gasped, bewildered.
Morr withdrew, perhaps confused.
Mia hauled him upright.
"Go kill a few rats. Get your revenge."
Then she ran into the palace with the others.
The pull of Grace—
Was right ahead.