Chapter 13: Survival.


    The Face Eater beat its wings, lifting it off the ground and shooting straight towards Nero. All he could do to defend himself was cross his arms in a feeble guard and brace for impact.


    That impact never came.


    The monster flew past him, high above the trees and into the sky.


    It wasn’t until it was barely a dot on the horizon that Nero let himself tear his eyes away from the demon.


    “I guess we finally made it clear we’re not worth the effort.” Nero sighed.


    Selvas was on her feet now, tying bandages with odd writings upon them where the beast had sunk its talons into her shoulder. She held a calm that was strikingly at odds with all that had just occurred . Her purple pupils settled on him with a surgical gaze. “Are you hurt?” She asked.


    Nero tried to shift into a sitting position and it seemed the little squeal he let out was answer enough. “A little, yeah.” He added.


    “Don’t move, only a potion can fix you if you accidentally puncture something in your insides.” Selvas said with a tone grim enough to leave him as still as a stone block.


    Like the ones across her arms, the rags she pulled out of her bag were inscribed with odd scripts on their surface. When she wrapped it around him he could feel the cuts in his skin begin to mend, the sensation however was far from soothing, it felt like his flesh was being stretched and dragged beyond their limits.


    Through grit teeth, Nero stayed still through it all.


    He let himself focus instead on the far more pleasurable fact that his hypothesis about the runes giving supernatural abilities to materials was correct.


    It wasn’t long before the hunter was done tending to herself, soon she was kneeling next to Nero, poking and prodding his body and seeming to make a mental note every time he gasped in agony.


    “Nothing broken,” She noted.


    “Could have fooled me.” Nero grimaced.


    “You kept your life alone against a Face Eater for a few minutes.” Selvas mused and Nero tried not to tense. Her eyes were settled on him again, making him feel like all his secrets were messily scribbled onto his face.


    He just had to think of a lie-


    “Impressive” Selvas said, cutting his thoughts off with a word.


    “Oh,” Nero grinned up at the woman, feeling a smirk work its way up the edges of his lips. “Well, I simply met its animalistic instincts with my indomitable human spirit.”


    Selvas looked at him like he’d shit himself, which generally wasn’t the intended effect when he tried to flirt with women.


    “Really Nero?” Ember shook her head in disappointment.


    “You’re in working condition, I’d try not to put much pressure on your side if I were you.” Selvas said as if stepping out the path of projectile vomit. “However if any impoverished addicts come your way I’m sure you’d be able to make quick work of them.”


    Nero winced and chose silence as she worked bandages around his cuts. Selvas seemed to prefer it, and when all was said and done they were back at the campfire. For all the trouble the Face Eater caused, Selvas seemed most distraught at the destruction of the camp.


    Thankfully it took less than an hour to get back into working condition however.


    Nero was soon on his back, gazing up at the twin moons and purple skies. Hell had stars it seemed, and like most things here, they were odd. The stars seemed to blink in and out of existence. Disappearing and then reappearing somewhere else. It was bizzare, terrifying and fascinating all at once.


    He wished he knew how it worked, doubted the people of this world did either, and loathed the fact that he could not ask.


    “You’re supposed to be asleep?” Selvas said. She had first watch,


    “Yeah, can’t.” Nero replied. He flicked his eyes over to see her sitting on a log, eyes gazing out into the black depths of the night. He wondered if she could see into it. “Do you think we’re gonna get ambushed by another Face Eater?”


    Selvas frowned in thought for half a moment. “No, not unless we’re very unlucky.” She replied. “Face Eaters don’t typically come this far out.”


    “Ah.”


    “But that’s not why you’re still up is it?” Selvas asked.


    Nero drew in a breath of air. “Tomorrow, I’m going to be hunting people, might even have to kill them.”


    “Yes.” Selvas said, raw and simple.


    “Your first time doing one of these types of jobs, what was it like?” He asked.


    Selvas sighed. “I was thirteen, maybe fourteen.” She said, eyes narrowing as they pierced through the fog of the past. “In preparation, my father told me I might feel shame, anguish and disgust in myself when it was all over.”


    “And did you?” Nero asked.


    The flames'' light flickered, casting uneven shadows against her pale hair and face so that she seemed to be wearing a tattered mask of darkness. Her violet eyes held the fire within them, glowing. “No.” Selvas said. “I didn’t, it was a job and I did it.”


    Nero swallowed, suddenly feeling quite cold. “I see.” He nodded.


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    “You should get some sleep, Nero.” Selvas pressed. “I can’t have you dozing off on your watch.”


    Morning came far too soon, and Nero was up before Selvas as he had the last watch.


    They began moving quickly, Selvas had said the tracks were getting fresher, which meant they were getting closer to the bandits. Nero wasn’t sure if he should feel relieved or anxious and before he could decide, it was night again, and they were staring down at a trio of men huddled around a campfire.


    They were close enough that he could hear them chatter, but too far to make out the words they were saying.


    Selvas was already readying her bow, eyes narrowing like an eagle upon a group of rats.“You circle around behind them.” She whispered, “When I shoot the small one, you take the big one down with a surprise attack, that’ll leave only one for the both of us to overpower.”


    Nero couldn’t find any fault with that plan, nodded and slunk through the woods with deft steps. Once he was far enough away, Ember was speaking. “You’re not actually going to use that are you?” She asked, large eyes weary.


    Nero took a moment to realise what she was talking about. He had his hand closed tightly around the handle of Selvas’s dagger. It had saved him before, it made sense that it could save him again. “I don’t know, I might need it.” He told her apologetically.


    “You might not.” She countered. “They’re wanted dead or alive Nero.” She pressed.


    He closed his eyes, sighed then slid the blade back into its sheath. “At the first sign of trouble, I’m using this thing.” He told her.


    Ember’s eyes lit up. “Thank you Nero.” She said, far too jolly at her little victory for the condition to cloud her mood.


    He was soon behind the big bastard, broad and with tattoos that ran up a bald head. It made sense that Selvas wanted this one down first, he looked like he could easily take both him and her in a fight.


    But that was back on earth, the rules here were different, Nero knew now. But how much different, If I built muscle mass how much would that help my physical abilities. Negligibly if it''s summative to my current strength, invaluably if it''s multiplicative.


    Now, like nearly all other times, was far from the best to find an answer to the questions that plagued him. Selvas’ signal would come soon, and he’d need to be ready for it.


    Nero drew in a breath and burned his gaze into the back of the bald man’s head. A well placed hit to the back of the skull he knew could knock a man out in an instant but even a badly placed one should leave him seeing stars for a while. Moments. Minutes?


    More than enough time to down the third guy…Right?


    But what if he didn’t hit him hard enough? They’d have two opponents after them, and neither with any of his reservations about killing people.


    He had to tilt things in his favour.


    Nero reached for his blade and pulled it out from the sheathe.


    “Nero-” Ember started but before she could finish, Selvas’s arrow sunk into the smallest man’s neck.


    Nero was sprinting at his target before they could register the shock. The remaining two were standing by the time he’d halved the distance between them.


    He stepped on something brittle, there was a snap. The bald man was turning his head, Nero was losing time.


    He swung his blade.


    The man’s head shifted.


    It connected with his neck.


    A deathblow.


    Or at least it would have been had Nero hit him with the blade and not the pommel. He had told Ember he wouldn’t kill him unless he had to, and he intended to keep that promise.


    If his opponent was moved by his sentimentality however, he didn’t opt to show it.


    The man stumbled forwards, hand clutching the new bruise to the side of his neck. By the shock, confusion and then relief in his eyes, Nero could tell he was certain he’d just had his jugular opened up.


    You’re welcome.


    No gratitude came, instead the man only pointed his hand at Nero with a nasty glare.


    Is this some kind of custom I don’t understand?


    Something told him to duck and he obeyed it, just in time to see a bolt of lightning leap from the man’s palm and sail mere inches past Nero’s face.


    “Holy mother of fuck!”


    “A Lightning Caster.” Ember gasped.


    “A Lightning Caster. Of course it''s a Lightning Caster, how could it not be one, how could I have been so foolish as to expect anything else than a fucking Lightning Caster!”


    “Focus Nero!” Ember yelled.


    That was enough to snap him out of his hysterical fit. The other man, the one Selvas hadn’t shot, was charging at her, shield carrying arrows where he’d blocked her shots while his other hand held a blade held ready and eager to keep her from firing any more.


    That meant Nero shouldn’t be expecting help from her anytime soon.


    He was on his own.


    The Lightning Caster’s fist crackled with electricity and then with a snarl, he was coming at Nero. It made him green with envy that he couldn’t use his Lightbreathing to match him.


    “Well, let’s get this over with then.” He sighed.


    The man’s arms came like pistons; all force and power. Nero’s body was sluggish to react and protested every time he dragged it out of the path of danger. He had the Face Eater to thank for that and Selvas’ rags to thank that he had healed enough to move . He could barely get out of the way in time, and when his inevitable failure came, it was from a blow to his shoulder that had his teeth rattling.


    The pain was hot and piercing, like the venom of a snake burning through his skin and settling in the deepest layer of his flesh.


    He stumbled, nearly lost his footing but did everything in his power to keep that from happening, He wasn’t a fighter, as was readily apparent when the playing field between him and his opponents was even slightly levelled, but he knew enough about combat to infer that falling to the ground in its midst might as well be a death sentence.


    It was early into the fight, but things were already looking dire.


    Nero felt for his blade but found it missing from his grip when he did. A glance to the ground told him where it was, he must have dropped it when that vicious blow struck.


    He could still barely feel his arm.


    He needed to get on the offensive, and he needed to get on it quickly.


    He moved in as his opponent did, the change in tactic caused a hesitation in baldy, Nero capitalised by sinking his fist in his gut, he couldn’t quite let the blow follow through without gasping in agony as his injured sides whimpered.


    Luckily, it was still powerful enough to make his opponent stumble, he used the opening to land a few more hits but a retaliatory attack was coming sooner than Nero expected.


    A deadly elbow swung for his face like an axe.


    Nero pulled his head back.


    Too late, it hit, a direct blow, hard enough to send him reeling. His head rang, the world was a blur and he couldn’t tell up from down.


    “Nero, on your left!” Ember screamed.


    He didn’t know where left was, but the warning was enough to let him know his opponent was coming for him again.


    He lashed out a desperate fist at the largest shape approaching him and to his relief and amazement he felt his hand strike something solid.


    His vision returned to show him a Lightning Caster stumbling away while clutching their jaw.


    That was luck, a luxury he mightn’t have more of.


    The man splayed his palm at Nero and a bolt of lightning was leaping for him again.


    He moved to twist out of the way, cried out in agony as his sides were tortured, forcing him into a stumble and braced himself as the lightning struck him directly.