The cold night air of Stradale washed over Nero as he made his way through it. His mind was still spinning when he finally found a secluded place where he could talk to Ember.


    The Imp’s glow was a dull thing, like the final moments of a dying lightbulb. Her head hung low and she stared down at her feet. “I’m sorry Nero.”


    “So there were others?” He asked, finally giving voice to the first of many questions.


    “One every one five thousand years.” Ember replied.


    A Light Breather every five thousand years. If Hell was still like this it meant the last one... Nero felt his guts squirm at the revelation. “And the last one turned on humanity.”


    Ember softly nodded.


    “Why didn’t you tell me?” He asked.


    “I was scared.” She replied.


    “Scared?” He raised an eyebrow. “Scared of what I’d do. Do what?” He’d hoped he’d made sure she felt safe around him.


    “Scared you’ll give up on your destiny.” Ember replied.


    “Ember, I…” Well, that was a perfectly legitimate worry, not least because Nero didn’t know exactly how to feel about the whole saving hell thing. Suffocating, was how it felt now, especially after seeing just how deep the rot went, just how twisted this world was.


    This wasn’t something he could just punch through, he couldn’t save one man, much less this entire world. The thought of Boris was a cloak of melancholy over his already poor mood.


    “It was my fault.” Ember said, voice tight.


    Nero stared up at her in confusion. “What?”


    “The last Light Breather, I couldn’t save him… I don’t remember why I really, really don’t, but I couldn’t, it was all just too much.” Ember’s face was crumpled with effort, one that Nero recognised as her struggling to recall events.


    He didn’t like seeing her like this. He wanted to promise her he would save Hell, at the very least assure her he wasn’t going to join the Demons. But he was Nero, and hearing that the last Light Breather was on the side of the Demons had his mind already turning to how exactly he could join the winning side himself.


    He was who he was after all, and there was simply no denying that.


    “We should go find Cain.” He said, shifting the topic elsewhere. Thankfully Ember let him, as she replied with a nod.


    Finding the Blade Master wasn’t hard, in fact it was one of the easiest things Nero had been able to achieve in Stradale. People were actually open to talking to and directing him now and all he had to do was not think about the reason why.


    Cain, it seemed, lived on a hill outside of Stradale. It was a steep climb to get there, not something he reckoned he could have done easily were he back on earth. However the magical might he’d gained from Hell allowed him to make easy work of it.


    Nero found a tiny brown shack waiting for him at the top, the thing seemed to be barely holding itself together, and it was a wonder how it was still upright when faced with the winds that raged at this height.


    “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Ember asked with a small frown.


    “I can’t say I am, no.” He replied. Still, this was where the townspeople said Cain lived, so that was where he would go. He needed to get stronger.


    He made careful steps towards the shack, and when he knocked on it the door swung open with a painful creak. Inside it was everything he thought it would be, caked in dust, debris and junk.


    It looked abandoned, Nero very much doubted anyone lived here, much less a Blade Master of all people. From the title he figured they’d be sagely.


    “You’re the traveller aren’t you?” A voice called from behind.


    Nero turned and found himself at a loss for words when his eyes found the speaker. It was a woman, wrinkled and grey, she looked like she’d seen at least ten more decades than he had and would likely not see more.


    How she got up here was beyond him and he didn’t even want to think of how she’d get down.


    “Uhm, hello there?” He greeted. “I’m looking for mister Cain.”


    “I’m her.” The woman sniffed and now Nero could see a steadiness to her eyes, like the gaze of a predatory bird.


    “Oh… Oh.” He nodded. He shouldn’t have been surprised, in a world where magic could allow him to punch into trees, making the elderly into swordsmen would be elementary. “I didn’t know you were a woman.” He explained, letting her perceive that as the focus of his shock.


    “She’s ooold.” Ember keenly pointed out.


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    “What do you want?” The woman asked, she sounded grumpy, like there was a perpetual pebble in her shoe. He couldn’t blame her, if anything he was surprised that every single person he met in this literal nightmare world wasn’t like her.


    “Well I was told this is where you live-”


    “It’s not, it’s where idiots think I live.” The woman scoffed.


    Nero tried not to glare. “I came here for training, I’d like to learn swordsmanship.” He told the woman and watched the disinterest begin to cloud her features. “I- I have crystals.” He spoke quickly.


    Greed was the expression she wore now, and still she sniffed. “Very well then, I’ll train you.”


    “Thank you.”


    “If you can land a single hit on me before I hit you thrice.” The woman finished.


    Nero blinked. “What? Why?”


    “Because I only accept the best.” She picked up two branches from the dirt.


    “That doesn’t make any sense.” Nero countered.


    “And why is that?” She asked.


    “Because the best wouldn’t need any training from you!” He snapped.


    The woman smiled, looking completely pleased with herself and at peace with the whole world. “Exactly.”


    Nero huffed. Old bitch.


    The old woman walked over and slapped him across the face with one branch. “Ow! What the fuck?”


    For a moment he thought she’d read his mind, what she said next rid him of that misconception. “That’s one hit for me.” She hummed.


    Ember giggled, and Nero wasn’t at all surprised to see the little shitter finding their new geriatric misanthrope of an acquaintance amusing. He didn’t share her particular sense of humour.


    He clenched his jaw. “Fine then.” Nero swung a fist with perhaps more force than he would have preferred, and hoped to god the woman was tougher than she looked.


    He never found out however, as his fist met air where her face should have been. She slid underneath his arm and sent a leg sweeping for his.


    It moved with a blur, like a cracking whip swung with all the force of an executioner’s blade. She was fast. Faster than me?


    He scrambled backwards, just managing to dodge the hit and quickly being assailed by more attacks.


    The old woman came on like rain, the branches were a whirlwind, a storm and Nero was only barely able to stay out of its path.


    He needed to get on the offensive soon, but just how exactly did one fight the wind. Think, think, think-


    Suddenly, Cain stopped approaching. She merely stood in front of him with a smug grin on her wrinkled face.


    A glance behind him told Nero why. He was at the edge of the cliff with air and death awaiting him if he took another step backwards.


    Well aware of that, the woman took a single step forwards and gently poked his nose while Nero tried and failed to swat her attempt away.


    “That’s two touches for me.” She noted then hummed. “Would you look at that, I only need one more to send you packing.”


    Nero glared openly at the woman who only laughed as she skipped backwards, stopping at the centre of the hill. She tossed him a branch and Nero caught it. “How about we level the playing field a little.”


    Nero wasn’t complaining. He tested the weight of the stick, not that he could tell what was good or bad weighting, it just felt like the right thing to do. He’d seen it in movies.


    Cain didn’t move, which meant she’d wanted him to initiate the attack. Nero didn’t mind, if anything he much valued the chance to change the course of this little battle they had going.


    Okay, she’s faster than me.


    And it wasn’t just because of his injuries, he could tell the only reason why he wasn’t out of this yet was because she was underestimating him, taking it easy because she didn’t see him as a threat. That was true for the most part, but he could also use that to his advantage.


    “Are you just going to wait there, traveller, or are you actually going to come at me.” Cain laughed. “Come on, I thought the young were supposed to be adventurous and daring. All I see is a pussy with an average sized stick to compensate for his below average sized one.”


    “I’m thinking, I’m sure it’s quite a novel concept to you but where I’m from we do it quite a lot.” Nero shot back.


    Cain laughed. “Oh, nice, now if only your limbs moved as quick as your tongue did I wouldn’t be so bored.”


    Nero ran at her, stumbled, regained his footing and swung his branch at her shoulder in a downward arc. She slipped past it like a breeze and then the onslaught came.


    Nero had expected to be on the backfoot and so he was prepared when the barrage of attacks came. He blocked better, dodged better and did well to calm his nerves as she sent him closer to the hill’s edge.


    All things considered he was doing much better than before, which if being optimistic to a fault gave him a fraction of a chance of coming out of this on top.


    Cain on the other hand seemed perfectly confident in her victory. Calm smirk and all. If there was any time to spring his plan into action, Nero knew it would be now.


    And he did.


    He threw the hand-full of dirt that he’d picked up when he ‘stumbled’ at the woman. It hit her face, her eyes and then she was blind, reeling backwards to try and clean the dirt out. “Fuck!”


    Nero capitalised, his branch came racing for the woman’s side like a bullet. She leapt backwards. Her reaction was quick, quick enough to stun Nero in seeing it performed by a blind woman, but not as quick as she was before he’d blinded her.


    The branch caught her cloth, but nothing else. He’d missed, but just barely this time.


    How is she still able to react to me?


    Perhaps she had something similar to what the Face Eater did. It didn’t matter, now wasn’t the time to theorise.


    It was the time to capitalise.


    Nero’s branch came again, and this time it made a solid connection- to her branch. She blocked. Fuck. Her branch moved like a swarm of hornets, and Nero batted each sting back.


    Her blindness made her clumsier, yes, but there was something else too, her movements were less relaxed, her attacks less confident. She wasn’t certain she could win anymore. Which meant he had a real chance.


    He swung again, this time with as much force as he could muster. Cain blocked. Like he’d expected. Her branch snapped in half, he’d hit it at a weak point.


    Nero jabbed his branch at her chest, making good use of his newly gained advantage in reach. The woman slipped underneath his attack, he raised a knee to meet her face but she’d already wrapped her arm around his.


    Cain tightened her grip and made use of his own momentum to throw him over her shoulder and onto his back. Nero’s old wounds and bruises flared up on impact and he saw painful lights in the corner of his vision.


    Cain wiped the last bit of dirt out of her eyes and smiled down at him. “That’s a third one for me.”


    Nero groaned and rolled onto his feet. Defeat was a bitter thing and while he knew there were people out there more powerful than him, seeing it demonstrated in suchstark terms in before his very eyeswas a different thing altogether.


    The fact that he’d learned in the same act that he wouldn’t be getting trained by one of the people beyond him was just salt in the wound.


    “At this pace, I reckon you’d be able to manage a hit in… hmm, let’s say thirty two days.” Cain said and tossed her half-branch off the hill.


    Nero frowned, needing a moment for her words to properly sink into his mind. “You’re… You’re going to train me?”


    Cain scoffed. “Why wouldn’t I? Dismissing you for training because you’re unskilled would be stupid, don’t be stupid Traveller.”