[Oliver’s POV]

  “Uklush,” Oliver whispered under his breath, his eyes narrowing. “Commander of the Ork Vanguard Line.”

  The towering Ork cast a brief glance at the humans behind him, his face twisting in something between disdain and indifference. Then, without a word, he charged. His massive frame thundered across the sand, each stride shaking the ground as he raised a colossal axe forged with some dark metal. He swung with savage precision, utterly unbothered by the venom still dripping from the Jailer’s armored hide.

  Each strike could have felled a tank and most of the Rangers. Sparks burst as the axe clashed against the monster’s exoskeleton, reverberating like an explosion across the battlefield. The Jailer shrieked, its grotesque humanoid torso twisting as it fought against the assault of this new predator.

  But the beast was not so easily broken.

  Its pinned legs convulsed, muscles surging with monstrous force, and with a violent movement, it tore itself free of the sand that bound it. The ground shook as it reared back, its tail whipping forward with lethal speed. Before Uklush could bring his axe down again, the stinger slammed into his stomach.

  The impact cracked like thunder.

  The Ork was hurled backward, his body lifted off the ground and flung across the sand. He landed hard, but to the astonishment of the soldiers watching, he rose almost immediately, blood dripping from his mouth. He wiped it away with the back of his hand and snarled, his eyes burning with the thrill of battle rather than fear.

  “Do we just keep watching?” Six muttered, his voice tight as he kept his eyes on the clash. He didn’t notice at first that Oliver was already moving.

  “Not a chance,” Oliver said, his tone sharp and decisive. He broke into a run, sand spraying behind him as he ran to the dune's top.

  Six blinked, scrambling to follow. “What’s the plan?”

  “I’ll deal with Uklush,” Oliver replied. “Don’t let them kill the Jailer. It’s not their prize to take.”

  “Me? Alone?!” Six sputtered, slapping sand from his robes as he stumbled after him.

  “Just get them occupied,” Oliver snapped. His eyes never left the battlefield. “I’ll handle the rest.”

  The two of them descended the dune in long strides. Soldiers were startled by the new opponents approaching. Adrian’s eyes narrowed, his expression hardening the moment he recognized Atlas Blackwell.

  Anger flickered in Adrian’s stare, but even that was held back by the reality of the battlefield. For all his loathing, a human, any human, was better than leaving the Orks unchecked.

  Adrian, who only moments ago had faltered, paralyzed by the impossible choice of facing both an Ork Commander and a nightmare born of the sand, finally snapped back. His hesitation burned away, replaced by the raw, stubborn pride of a Meridius heir.

  As Oliver closed in from behind the monstrous scorpion, Adrian lunged forward, intercepting Uklush.

  The Ork commander met him with a roar, his massive axe cleaving through the air in arcs that could shatter stone. “Die, human! Don't you dare steal my victory!” he screamed with every swing, his eyes wild with fury.

  Adrian slipped past each strike by a hair's breadth, the axe’s edge missing him by mere centimeters. Adrian’s movements were tight, precise. His pride and his bloodline refused to yield an inch.

  Oliver reached the battlefield in the midst of this chaos. While Adrian and Uklush clashed in their desperate dance of steel and rage, Oliver turned his focus to the actual prize: the Jailer.

  The grotesque scorpion-man still lurched, its malformed torso twisting, its tail lashing wildly as it tried to comprehend the flood of enemies assaulting it from all sides. Oliver seized the moment.

  He had never trained in the art of projecting Energy outward, never conjured blasts of energy as some did. His mastery lay elsewhere. Years had been spent honing the art of binding Energy inward, weaving it into the fibers of his flesh.

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  Prometheus was one of those techniques, using Energy to burn his body hotter, to accelerate it beyond human limits. Oliver, however, had also learned the opposite. By threading filaments of Energy into his limbs, he compressed and densified his frame until flesh became steel.

  His arms and legs darkened, their color shifting to a muted, metallic blue-gray, gleaming like steel.

  And then he struck.

  The Jailer barely had time to register his approach before Oliver’s fist slammed into one of its forelegs. The first blow cracked the blackened exoskeleton with a thunderous crack, fractures spiderwebbing across its surface. The second punch followed immediately, a merciless hammer that shattered the limb completely. The leg tore free in a spray of green ichor.

  The Jailer shrieked.

  The sound was deafening, a howl of rage and agony that shook the dunes. Its massive body convulsed, venom spraying in arcs. The air filled with droplets of sizzling green, each one hissing as it struck sand.

  Soldiers threw themselves to the ground, scrambling for cover as the venom rained down. Adrian ducked beneath Uklush’s axe, both momentarily forced apart by the storm of acid.

  The Orks hidden beneath the sand were caught off guard. The Jailer’s thrashing had become a storm of violence, and its venom sprayed like a torrential rain of acid. Several of the buried warriors were doused instantly, their bodies hissing and melting before they could even scream. Others scrambled to the surface in panic, only to be crushed under the monster’s massive limbs as it convulsed in rage.

  Yet the ones that emerged found no salvation, only chaos. The Jailer writhed in fury, and running toward them was Six.

  “Kill the human and pull the beast away!” Uklush roared in his guttural language.

  Oliver’s eyes flicked to him. He understood every word, but he could not risk revealing that fact. If Adrian realized Atlas Blackwell could comprehend Orkish, his cover would be destroyed.

  Fortunately, Oliver didn’t need to say anything. Six, for all his slothful habits, had one virtue Oliver could rely on: he was too lazy to die.

  Oliver turned his back on the chaos at the edge of the fight. He trusted Six to survive. His focus narrowed to Uklush.

  The Ork warlord now faced a nightmare of his own. Two predators were closing in. On one side, Adrian Meridius, his arms sheathed in dense mineral plating conjured from the earth itself, each strike carrying the weight of mountains. On the other side, Oliver had his fists gleaming with condensed Energy, every blow sharpened into steel precision.

  The clash between the three was brutal, relentless. Every strike could kill. Every mistake could end the fight in a heartbeat. Oliver barely had time to glance at Six’s, catching only his complaints.

  “I’m working on the Orks!” Six shouted. “I can’t stop them, but I can slow them down!”

  Oliver knew his boon well. Six could create controlled bursts of sound and vibration, weaving them into his enemies’ bodies—a subtle weapon. In stealth, it let him amplify whispers, track footsteps, and hear heartbeats. In combat, it became disorienting waves that rattled bones, twisted stomachs, and sent men reeling in nausea. Against humans, it was devastating. Against Orks, it was… less effective. Their bodies were too dense, too resilient.

  Still, it was enough to stagger them, enough to buy time.

  “What are you waiting for?!” Adrian barked at his soldiers, his voice cutting through the chaos as he dodged another swing of Uklush’s axe. “Help him!”

  The command broke their paralysis. The Meridius soldiers surged forward, engaging the Orks that had begun retreating into the dunes, trying to drag the Jailer away from the fight. The battlefield fractured into layers of conflict. Soldiers clashing with Orks, the scorpion-beast shrieking as it was pulled, and at the center, the brutal triangle of Adrian, Uklush, and Oliver.

  Oliver pressed harder against the Ork commander. His fists hammered like pistons, the density of his Energy-infused strikes cracking against Uklush’s crude armor. Adrian mirrored him, his mineral-wrapped fists slamming from the opposite side.

  Uklush snarled, mouth dripping with blood. “Cowards! It takes two of you to face the great Uklush!” he spat.

  The insult meant little to Adrian, who did not understand whatever was said.

  The Ork leapt aside suddenly, his massive body twisting with surprising agility. Oliver’s punch and Adrian’s strike nearly collided; the two humans forced to pull back at the last instant. Adrian’s eyes flared with fury as he spun toward Oliver.

  “What the hell are you doing here?!” Adrian snapped, his voice dripping with rage.

  “Saving you,” Oliver replied coldly, not even sparing him a glance. He pivoted on his heel and drove a devastating kick into Uklush’s chest. The Ork commander was lifted off his feet and hurled back, crashing into the face of a dune with an explosion of sand.

  Oliver lowered his leg, his voice unshaken.

  “And killing the Jailer.”