My Overpowered Bunny Girls

The canyon walls rose high, their rust-colored stone carved by centuries of decay. The party moved through the narrow passages in single file, their footsteps echoing too loudly in the silence. The red sky above was a distant ribbon of light, barely visible between the canyon’s edges.

Nathan walked at the front, Moonlight in his grip. His three summons were in their small forms—Mirko on his shoulder, Kuro in his jacket, Shiro perched on his head. The mental link hummed with their collective alertness. They had been marching for two days through the canyon network, and the constant vigilance was wearing on everyone.

Smithy walked beside Nathan now, no longer relegated to the rear. The Void Eel drifted at his feet, its incorporeal body phasing through the loose stone. He had proven himself at the depot—fighting beside the party, sharing his knowledge, holding the line when the Reaver charged. It wasn’t trust, not yet, but it was something close.

"The next depot is half a day south," Smithy said quietly. "It’s smaller than the last one—a supply cache, not a command center. But Morrigan will have reinforced it. She’ll be expecting us."

"Then we don’t give her time to prepare," Nathan replied. "We hit it at dusk. Before the patrols change."

Smithy nodded. "The dusk patrol rotation is their weakest point. I know the pattern. If we time it right, we can slip past the outer guards and reach the main structure before they raise the alarm."

"How many guards?"

"Eight on the perimeter. Four on the walls. The rest will be inside the depot proper—another dozen, maybe. Plus their summons."

Nathan filed the numbers away. "We’ve handled worse."

---

They made camp in a shallow cave near the canyon floor. The party spread out, checking weapons and conserving energy. Garrett was already sharpening Volcan’s edge with methodical precision. Dillon was adjusting his Storm Striders, Cloudy coiled nearby and crackling softly. Elise was meditating, her Frost Golem standing sentinel at the cave’s mouth.

Smithy sat apart, his Void Eel coiled in his lap. He was staring at the far wall of the cave, his expression distant.

Nathan sat down beside him. "You’ve been quiet since the depot."

"I’ve been thinking." Smithy’s voice was low. "About Morrigan. About Fester. About everything." He paused. "When I joined the Court, I thought I was saving the world. I thought the Cleansing would purge the weak and leave behind something better. Something stronger. But all it’s done is create monsters. The Reaver—he was a Climber once. A man with a family, probably. And the Court turned him into that."

"You didn’t know?"

"I knew. I just... didn’t let myself think about it." Smithy looked at Nathan. "You were right about me, you know. In the Sunken Depths. You said I was making excuses for the Court’s cruelty. I was. I’ve been making excuses for years."

Nathan was quiet for a moment. "It’s not too late to stop."

"That’s what I’m trying to do." Smithy’s jaw tightened. "I can’t bring back my family. I can’t undo what I’ve done. But I can make sure the Court doesn’t destroy anyone else’s family. That’s why I’m here."

Nathan studied him. The man haunted by the weight of his own choices. He wasn’t a hero. He might never be. But he was trying to be better that what he is...was.

"Then prove it," Nathan said. "When we hit the depot, you take point with me. You know the layout. You know the patterns. If this is a trap, I’ll know. And I won’t hesitate."

Smithy met his eyes. "I know. I wouldn’t expect you to."

---

The dusk patrol shift came exactly as Smithy said it would.

The party moved through the shadows, Kuro leading the way with [Silent Step] and [Shadow Meld]. The depot was smaller than the first—a squat fortress of dark stone built into the canyon wall, its surface crawling with mutation sigils. Grey banners hung from the ramparts. Corrupted Hounds paced the perimeter.

Nathan’s [Hunter’s Insight] mapped the patrol routes. "Four on the walls. Eight on the ground. They’re rotating every fifteen minutes."

Kuro materialized beside him. ’The guards are tired. Their movements are sluggish. The Cleansing has been hard on them too.’

"Good. We use that." Nathan signaled the party. "Dillon—take the wall guards. Quietly. Kuro—mark the perimeter guards for elimination. We go in fast and we don’t let them sound the alarm."

Dillon and Cloudy launched into the air, silent as shadows. Kuro vanished. A moment later, the first wall guard collapsed without a sound. Then another. Then another.

The perimeter guards fell one by one, Kuro’s daggers and Dillon’s lightning working in perfect coordination. Within minutes, the outer defenses were clear.

"Move," Nathan whispered.

The party entered the depot through a side entrance Smithy had identified. The interior was dim and close, lit only by the sickly glow of mutation crystals embedded in the walls. Operatives moved through the corridors, their corrupted summons prowling.

The party moved like ghosts. Kuro eliminated sentries. Shiro’s [Dragon King’s Ascension] carried her through the shadows. Mirko’s barrier muffled their footsteps. And when they reached the central chamber—a storage vault lined with mutation crystals—they found the depot’s commander waiting for them.

It was an operative Nathan didn’t recognize, a woman with cold eyes and a corrupted Construct at her side. She raised her hand to sound the alarm—

And Nathan’s [Death’s Homing Compass] marked her heart.

The arrow curved around a stack of supply crates and struck home. The operative collapsed. Her Construct dissolved.

"Clear the vault," Nathan ordered. "Destroy the crystals. Then we go."

The party moved through the depot, eliminating resistance and shattering mutation crystals. The corrupted summons, severed from their power source, collapsed or fled. Within an hour, the depot was secure.

But as they gathered in the main courtyard, Smithy’s expression was troubled.

"Something’s wrong," he said quietly. "This was too easy. Morrigan reinforced this depot—she knew we were coming. But there’s no sign of her. No Reaver. No elite guard. Just a skeleton crew and a few crystals."

Nathan scanned the depot with [Hunter’s Insight]. The courtyard was empty. The banners hung limp. The mutation crystals were dark and shattered.

"She didn’t reinforce it," Nathan said slowly. "She abandoned it. This was a trap!"

The answer came from the canyon walls.

A horn sounded—deep and resonant, echoing through the canyon network. Then another. And another. The corrupted creatures in the canyons, driven mad by the Cleansing’s ambient magic, had been herded into a massive swarm. And now they were converging on the depot from every direction.

"Morrigan didn’t abandon this place," Smithy said, his face pale. "She turned it into a kill box. We’re the bait."

Nathan drew Moonlight. The first of the corrupted Hounds appeared at the depot’s main gate, its too-many legs scrabbling across the stone. Behind it, dozens more. Then hundreds.

"Formation!" Nathan called. "We hold the depot! Don’t let them overrun us!"

The party closed ranks. Mirko’s Dragon’s Fang blazed. Shiro’s golden eyes burned. Kuro’s daggers gleamed. Garrett and Red planted themselves at the front. Dillon and Cloudy took the air. Elise raised Aurora’s Heart, and the Frost Golem loomed.

The swarm hit the gates.

---

The first wave crashed against the party’s defenses like a tide of corruption. Mirko’s [Impenetrable Fortress] held the center, the green barrier flaring as corrupted Hounds threw themselves against it. Dragon’s Fang carved through the creatures that slipped through, and [Aegis Strike] sent crescents of fire through the densest clusters.

Shiro was everywhere at once. [Dragon King’s Ascension] carried her through the swarm, her [Tyrant Dragon Fist] shattering corrupted skulls. "The Young Lord’s enemies are many, but they are mindless! They will break against our will!"

Garrett and Red anchored the left flank. Volcan erupted—KRAK-BOOM—the thermal pulse vaporizing a dozen Hounds at once. Red’s wool hardened to full armor, and the Mad-Sheep charged into the swarm, horns catching and flinging corrupted creatures. "Keep the gate clear! Don’t let them push us back!"

Dillon and Cloudy owned the sky. Cloudy’s static discharge arced across the flying creatures—CRACKLE-BOOM—frying dozens. Dillon’s [Thunder Edge] carved through the survivors. "There’s no end to them! We can’t kill them all!"

Elise froze the right flank. [Glacial Lance] punched into the swarm—CRRRRACK—and ice spread across the corrupted creatures, freezing them solid. The Frost Golem swept through the frozen ranks, shattering them. "We don’t need to kill them all! We just need to survive!"

Nathan stood at the center, firing [Starfall Barrage] into the horde. The celestial arrows rained down, and dozens of creatures dissolved. But more kept coming. The canyons were full of them—every corrupted monster in the western sector, driven toward the depot by Morrigan’s machinations.

Smithy fought beside him, his Void Eel darting between enemies. "Morrigan’s watching. Somewhere out there. She’s waiting for us to exhaust ourselves before she strikes."

"Then we make her wait." Nathan marked a cluster of creatures with [Death’s Homing Compass] and fired. "We hold until dawn. The TCA has reinforcements moving into the western sector. We just need to buy time."

"And if Morrigan attacks before dawn?"

Nathan nocked another arrow. "Then we kill her too."

The battle raged through the night. The party fought in shifts, rotating to conserve energy. The corrupted swarm was relentless, but it was also mindless—driven by the mutation magic rather than any true strategy. The party’s coordination, honed through months of climbing and fighting, kept them alive against impossible odds.

And when dawn finally broke over the canyon walls, the swarm began to thin.

The corrupted creatures, their dark energy exhausted, collapsed or fled. The depot’s defenses, battered but intact, had held. The party stood in the courtyard, exhausted but unbroken.

But Morrigan was still out there. And Nathan knew, with a cold certainty, that this was only the beginning of the western front’s horrors.

Smithy nodded grimly. "She’s just getting started."

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