Don't treat our comrades as rag dolls or we'll make a feast out of your flesh.

MAGNUS

My feet wobbled. Unable to support my weight I collapse on my feet.

"Magnus!" My comrades attempt to get up from the ground to aid me but I thrust my sword in their direction, stopping them from moving.

"Don't come! Stay in your position." My skin feels like jam molded and pressed until it seeps through the bread's insides. The light swords started to disappear.

I did tell you my Ranker uniform is made with 'Lathiama' right? The most tensile fabric that can't be cut by ordinary scissors. Lathiama is exclusively acquired at the Meyamas Mountains, from the hive of Entrodama Spiders.

Entrodama Spiders are the largest not to mention ugliest spiders ever lived in the territory of Gifted People. They don't attack humans unless someone infiltrates their hives. They're vicious when it comes to their woven wools. Ordinary blades can't cut through it. Except if there's blessings embedded on the sword, that would be a different matter. On the day I became a Ranker, that was five years ago by the way, I admired the shiny durable clothes of Rank Elders. When I kidnap one to head in some infamous pub, forced him to drink his brains out, he told me the information about Entrodama Spiders.

If a Ranker ever acquires one, manage to kill and spill the blood of Entrodama Spider on the wool and have it woven by the Rank Elder himself, the Ranker will possess the strongest battle armor 'Aegis' in the magical realm. Able to withstand the deadliest talons and razor sharp wings of the 'Beasts' even the 'Faery mana' that could blow an entire kingdom into ashes.

And that's what I draped in my body right now. Attacking the hive of spiders five times my size is no great feat. I only manage to kill one. Spilling its blood on the wool it woven. I trick the Rank Elder to use his blessing to make the wool - Lathiama into my uniform.

The day after that was a disaster. The Rank Ruler was furious, the other Rank Elders, however, don't have a say about it. They just stand in the aisle of Rank Ruler's throne. Neither saying what I did is breaking the rules nor reprimanding me for tricking one of theirs.

My punishment? Stable and farm duty for three years. Believe me, that was the worst punishment they could ever give. The horses are so full of themselves. They'll kick your butt if you won't brush their mane gracefully and gingerly. Their sh*ts are in outstanding level of world class stink. My nose has never been the same ever since.

The light swords came off with no blood or cuts. My uniform – let's call it Aegis since my comrades and the unsatisfied Rank Ruler love to refer it as it is, did its job in protecting me.

The image of fake sand dunes began to shimmer. And like a singeing curtain without fire, the mantle started to melt in the background, revealing legions of Gray, Red and White Beasts. Each holding something in their hands, and it keeps dripping like they soaked it with their nasty sweat. Towels? No.

Then it dawns on me, they're holding the bodies of other Rankers who were dispatched before us. Or at least, what's left of them. At the center, stands a figure of a woman in dark green garments. Her arms keep clanking as bracelets and other accessories shake with her flopping jellyfish-like movements.

"You. You're not a Rank Elder, are you? You have no blessing in your body...but why are you wearing the Aegis protector?" she asked in a smooth voice. She's shaping her tone to make it sound like a caring mother worried for her children. One of the many lessons I've learned from my rogue adventures is that the sweeter the woman sounds, the more sinister and twisted her intention is.

I formed an X with my arms. Holding my two swords inverted.

"Why are you here?" Instead of answering she shifted her legs. I blinked at my imagination. Trying to see what's her true form. One moment I see legs in perfect shape, then it curled and bobbed like the five layer belly of Rank Leader Tom.

The Beasts behind her, with their two arms and two legs and cobwebby wings with razor sharp edges let out a deafening roar. I can detect the cheers of triumph in their distorted rough voices.

I looked over my shoulder, my comrades shifted their scarred eyes at me. I can see the fear and anxiousness creeping in their eyeballs. I gulped. This ain't the time to be scared. I'm not tough but if you guys rely on me that much, I might act stupid and forced myself to be brave in front of these monsters.

I searched for Thomas's face and other archers in our team. I found him gripping his bow with shaking hands. Was he scared? Because I shoved him aside? Or because a Faery had finally made its2qz appearance to us? I follow his gaze, he's dead set on the first White beast at the right. Its bulky hand keeps swaying what seems to be a toy for little puppies. I squinted my eyes at the figure.

It's a human. A Ranker. My body crawled in gripping dread when I realized it's holding the same black feather arrows Thomas has. That Ranker is his brother. And the White beast is dangling him like a piece of decoration.

"Archers!" I bellowed. Thomas is the quickest to react and position his bow and arrows in firing position.

"Fire!"

Arrows in numbers whizzed through the air and shot the beasts in the eye. Some in their neck, mostly at their faces. I once told them the weakest part of these creatures is their eyes and neck. That's where my swords strike first. And they immediately turn into pile of ashes if I did that.

But the blessed blade of my swords and my comrades' arrows are different. They can't kill the beast by firing at them alone. My grip on the hilt of my sword tighten. Those selfish Elders, I told them a hundred times we can't defeat these monsters without their 'blessings'. Our weapons are fraught against their sturdy and impenetrable skin.

The Gray beasts that got their eyes shot drop the bodies of Rankers and wailed. Mossy green musk flowed out of their eye socket. They trash, some tried to pluck the arrows out. But the flimsy thing crunch under their big thick hands, crumbling into the inside of their bleeding eyeballs.

My comrades came over to my side. Seven archers position behind us, bows ready to shoot. Twelve lined up on my either side. Spears and swords ready.

"Magnus, what's the plan?" Liam at my right asked. I cracked my neck. Forcing my sight to sharpen to make out the position of our fallen Rankers.

"Four charge to the left, other four on the right. The rest accompany me to the center. Remember to cut the beast's knees first. Once down, aim at the back of their heads. Don't let go of your weapons. Pick up the remains of our fallen Rankers. Taking the whole body can be a drag in fights, so secure their hearts first. I'll handle the Faery."

The guy with chestnut hair and mouse like teeth chattered to my right. "He-hearts? You - you don't mean we'll cut their hearts out of their dismantled bodies and -"

"Put it in the stash pouch yes." I continued. Tapping the pouch we each one carry on our waistband. It's kind of bottomless bag able to carry heavily loaded equipment. Since its smaller than our palms, it's easily carried and used.

He whimpered under his throat and murmured the 'Bless us' prayer in a loop. My eyes locked at the Faery woman's slit pupils. I just realized the green tight fitting garment she wore is not actually clothes but her skin. The dark green is illuminated by the moonlight to make it shinier.

"Ready?" I looked at my comrades' faces. Expression grim and haunting but determined. "Let's do this." With a kick, I dash towards the Faery woman's slithering figure.