The pleading question, if you could call it that, dropped from the alchemist's lips as a blast of foul breath almost blew his skullcap away. Now Echser was not a squeamish man – you can't rummage through the insides of corpses all day long without acquiring a healthy resistance against smells, after all. Point and fact, he had hardly noticed the prevailing stench of decay in the warren, which, granted, might have something to do with their odyssey through the canalization. The Matriarch's breath, however, was something else. It not only made his eyes water, but it also threatened to burn them from their sockets. He actually threw up in his mouth, which turned out to be an improvement.

Black tears oozed from the Matriarch's eyes. "My boy! You killed my boy! You monster!"

"Me? Monster?!" That was what Echser wanted to say, but without air, his mouth full of sick, he only managed to squeeze out something that sounded like, "Mugh."

Oh, the injustice of it all...

It was enough to make a grown man cry. He had half a mind poking the abomination in the eye in a last gesture of defiance but soon forgot all about it. His already bulging eyes went wider still as almost invisible seams running from the top of the matriarch's skull down to her throat split apart. A horrendous sound followed, then her whole face opened like a fleshy orchid, revealing a teeth-studded maw.

Echser blinked, then blinked again, the scientist in him fascinated by the secrets that lurked within the matriarch's flesh, the rest of him close to screaming like a little girl. Oh no... oh no, no, no.

A fat, rope-like tongue flopped about wildly inside that vile abyss, snaking towards him, saliva dripping from hundreds of needle-sharp tiny teeth. He almost fainted. Almost – if not for Craven's unobtrusive cough. "Ehem."

The matriarch froze, the top of her head flapping back together, then a gasp – foul beyond imagination – came from that hideous throat. Echser gawped. Amidst a truly mindboggling carnage of dead ghouls stood Craven, smiling like the proverbial Kitari that had eaten the Kanari. Stefan kneeled before him, the blade of that dreadful bone saber resting on his shoulder, the saw-toothed edge pressed against his bulging jugular. The look on the young undertaker's face as he stared at that length of bone was one of profound horror; the one on Craven's features one of pure delight.

"My my, "the bounty said, "what a couple the two of you make. As a rule, I avoid interference in the affections of a young couple, especially one in the grip of such obviously devouring love. Alas, I still need the services of this man, my lady. Would you thus be so kind as to unhand him? Lest, I fear, I might be forced to prune your family tree even further."

"My... my boy," the matriarch wailed. "Don't hurt my boy!"

She dropped Echser like a hot potato, and he landed with the same elegance. Pain shot through him, the landing knocking air from his lungs and sense from his skull. All became dark, and he only realized that he had lost consciousness when the world suddenly snapped back again.

He let out a heartfelt "Auuu..." and gazed about, his agony quickly abating at the sight that greeted him. Craven and the Matriarch were locked in a ferocious battle. The giantess screeched in hatred as her clawed fingers swished through the air, trying to rend the ducking and dodging bounty killer apart. For a twelve feet tall monster that had to drag her distended belly over the floor, she was fast. Well, her attacks were, claws cutting through the smoke-filled air.

"My boys!" she screeched. "You have murdered my boys!"

Craven just laughed in obvious glee, ducking under a strike that almost took his head off, his saber lashing out and severing one of the giantess' breasts. Her screech was loud enough to crack the glossy walls, the severed piece of flaccid flesh flying through the air, trailing blood or perhaps milk after it. It fell to the ground like a discarded wineskin no two feed from Echser's face, black stuff with all sorts of wriggling things spilling out.

A scream tore from Echser lungs. "Nyyyaaahh!"

He scrambled away from that monstrous tit, fighting against rising bile as he bumped into something that let out a hideous moan. He whirled about, shouting, "You can't have my brain!" and attacked his foe with all his might.

It took several panicked slaps that an unkind onlooker probably would have called girlish until Echser realized that his supposed attacker was young Stefan. Not dead, but unconscious, it seemed. He froze, then continued what he was doing, slapping the young man in the face this time. "Wake up! Wake up, boy! We have to get out of here. We..."

He trailed off as Craven flew past him, only coming down after several yards horizontal flight. Amazingly, he did not end up in a groaning heap, but took the impact, rolled with it, and was back on his feet in an instant – then he seemed to just disappear, air rushing past Echser. Craven's laughter once more filled the room – this time it came from behind him. The alchemist's head jerked around, eyes widening as he saw the lich hunter back in battle with the matriarch.

For a moment, Echser just gawped. How...?

"I am loath to admit it," the bounty killer shouted between lightning-fast saber strikes, "but that was," a ground to heaven slash sent the matriarch's small finger flying, "a good strike."

The queen of the ghoul's screeched, her lower face splitting apart and her hideous tongue spearing towards Craven. Again, the bounty killer seemed to disappear, then reappear a step to the left, his saber licking out and severing the tip of that hideous tongue.

Echser still stared, spellbound. How?! How does he do it? Magic? Lich Tears?

It was a riddle wrapped inside an enigma, but the alchemist forgot all about it when his gaze fell on his sole reason for being in this mess. His book! He started crawling towards it, not caring that it lay way too close to the two raging titans, not–

Stefan let out a whimpering moan, and Echser stopped. The boy... He'd almost forgotten about the boy. His gaze shot from the young man's face to his book and back again. Back and forth. Back and forth.

Echser closed his eyes. "Shoot."

In an unbelievable act of selfless bravery and stupidity, he rose to his feet and began dragging Stefan to the tunnel that had let them here. "Never say," he muttered, "I didn't do... anything for you... you opportunistic... pouch-snatching lout!"

He couldn't really say why he did it, wondering about his foolish heroics even as he dragged Stefan. Perhaps a feeling of guilt? No... no, he hadn't done anything wrong, after all. It was merely the application of sense and scientific reasoning. He could still grab his book once he dragged the boy away. Besides, who would carry him through the lake of filth if not that little thief here? He was just being smart, is all.

Then he laughed. "Or I'm merely mad."

Echser nodded, watching the deadly battle with one eye. The matriarch was bleeding from dozens of cuts and had lost another finger – this time on her right hand – but Craven seemed to be getting slower as well. Echser could actually see him ducking, sidestepping, jumping, and pirouetting through the air in impossible defensive maneuvers. The good thing was, they were moving away from his book. A window of opportunity, if there had over been one.

"That's far enough." He brusquely dropped Stefan by the entrance to the tunnel, his breath ragged. "I hope you'll—" Echser almost choked on his next word, as he saw movement in one of the small tunnel openings directly above Craven's head. A ghoul! A big one too, and he was about to drop onto the bounty killer. "Craven! Look up!"

The ghoul dropped just as the lich hunter came down from an air-born pirouette. A move that had not only allowed him to avoid one of the matriarch's hand-tentacles but also to sever it in the process, sending the giantess reeling back with a screech. It would have been the perfect opportunity to finish the monster off, instead, Craven had to sidestep, his saber licking out and decapitating the ghoul in one swift strike – an attack that left him wide open.

"Murderer!" the matriarch screeched and attacked. The tentacle that shot from her right palm was like a spear, punching through Craven's guts and out the other side in a welter of blood.

Echser gasped as if struck himself. "No."

Craven stumbled under the impact, then was ripped from his feed as the Matriarch reeled him in. He slapped into her shield-sized palm, her thumb claw punching all the way through Craven's chest and out the other side. Blood erupted from his mouth and his black gaze met hers.

Somehow, he found the strength to smile. "Well..." the bone saber clattered to the floor, "...done."