《God Slayer》


 1.1 Stakeout

    A constant hum filled the air as the mosquitos swarmed about. Large looming trees stretched towards the sky as they fought for sunlight. Faint trickles of moonlight ooze through the canopy. Each flickering ray casting deep shadows within the mire. The ground unsteady, the water tainted, and the air thick with noxious fumes. None dared to venture deep into the swamp for there was nothing to gain. Only disease, death, and despair. Yet, it was the perfect spot for one of the realms most powerful creatures.


    Jax grunted as he slowly worked through the cloying mud. His boots sinking into the mire with each step. Pistons groaned and joints cracked as he pulled out each leg with a plop. Sweat dripped down his brow as he marched forward. It had been six months since arriving on this planet and he just wanted it to be over. Taking a moment of rest, he leaned against a nearby tree and inspected his armor. It was the cheapest on the market. A refurbished power-suit from decades ago. Paint had chipped off and rust began to develop in the exposed metal. Some of the joints squeaked and groaned¡ªsomething he¡¯d need to fix later. It wasn¡¯t his first option, but it was the only one he could afford. Glancing at the dented metal, he saw swarms of bloodsuckers crawling along the surface. Slimy creatures leaving trails of ooze along the metal, searching for that bit of exposed skin. Others flew around him, each landing briefly before looking for a new opening. Even though it was the cheapest, he was glad to have some protection from this hellhole. A plump thing landed onto his visor and he instinctively smashed it with his hand. A burst of sticky juices splattered the glass obscuring his vision. He did his best to wipe it off with his gloves, but it just left nasty trails behind.


    ¡°Dammit, you better be fucking worth it¡± He cursed to himself.


    If he knew what his target was like, he¡¯d never have chosen it. This was his first time going alone, and still had plenty to learn. So much relied on him succeeding. He¡¯d spent years skipping meals and living in the worst parts of town. All that sacrifice to save up a pitiful amount of coin for this moment. Even still, he wrote I.O.U¡¯s and made binding promises. All for one chance at breaking out of poverty. No wonder other slayer¡¯s refused this bounty. One portal to this bug-infested realm and they¡¯d be out instantly. But Jax didn¡¯t have that kind of funding, he barely made it to this spot in the first place. With nothing left, returning home empty handed wasn¡¯t an option. Rent was due and those that defaulted were assigned the worst jobs in society. Taking a breath, he pushed back the negative thoughts and refocused. He was here, and nothing would change that. The only option was to move forward and succeed.


    But that was easier said than done. Every moment was a battle that even the air was against him. An aura of wrongness filled the space, the swamp knew he didn¡¯t belong to these lands. As he approached the target, it began to actively sabotage his efforts. His respirator worked overtime as it filtered the fetid fumes permeating the mire. The first time he smelled the pungent stank, he had to pause and fight back the vomit. While the toxic particles were removed, it did nothing to halt that rancid odor. Thankfully, he¡¯d gone mostly nose blind to the fetid fumes. Only a lingering annoyance and a general sense of nausea.


    If he made it back home, the first upgrade he¡¯d buy would be a scent packet. They said it was a luxury in this line of work, but that was a lie. He¡¯d rather skip ration packs than experience this. But that was only the first bit, soon the mire burped up a concoction of putrid bubbles. Visible lines of hot filth lingered in the air, his suit blaring with warnings over the toxicity. Yet, the real danger was when it ignited. A bellowing flame would rise to the sky as the volatile gasses rapidly burned up. All around him various pockets flared upwards briefly illuminating the muck before fizzling out. One erupted close to his body and sent him flying back into a nearby tree. Once again he was thankful for the armor. If he had any money left, he¡¯d tip the seller later.


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    But the one thing he wanted the most was a simple, hot shower. This realm was set around the medieval era and the luxuries of life were nonexistent. No toilets, No running water, and just a general lack of cleanliness. Layers of sweat built up on the skin. His suit is like a walking sauna and keeping the funk trapped within. His hair matted and greasy, while his body was clammy. Worst of all, these last few days he couldn¡¯t even bathe. He had a general sense of when the target would arrive, but couldn¡¯t pin down the day. Instead he had to camp out in putrid leyline and wait. Each day he ate some of the rationed protein bars and filtered water. He could only hope that the water tablets actually worked.


    ¡°Just one kill Jax, you got it¡± He kept repeating. It was his only mantra to push forward.


    He wanted some recognition, even a simple thanks for his work. All their technology and progress was due to slayers. Their targets processed and reformed into greater things. Bounties carried a heavy reward, but the barrier to entry was high. However; if they succeed, life turned great. Living celebrities that could change history. Honestly, he didn¡¯t want to go that far. Instead he just wanted a modest apartment, the safety of a decent part of town, and a few simple luxuries.


    ¡°Finally¡± he mumbled.


    Jax looked up as the world began to shift. While the swamp sucked, this realm did have a beautiful night sky. The moon is bright and surrounded by a halo of glittering stars. It¡¯s delicate rays illuminating the mire in a soft, pale light. Yet, a blanket of wrongness crept in. The air thickened as the blue moon turned crimson. The world cast into a dark red hue. Trees seemed to grow under the dark shadows while the mud took on the color of blood. Even the swamp became more active. It¡¯s gurgling globs of dripping putrescence intensifying. Panicking, Jax retreated towards higher ground. He grabbed onto one of the low-hanging limbs and pulled up onto the roots. Pausing to analyze the new battlefield.


    Within moments, the bubbles thickened. Towering globs of muck were stretching upwards before exploding. In the aftermath, human-like figures remained. Each one covered in the thick mud. Dozens upon dozens crept upwards, the shapes waist high and basking in the crimson rays. That strange light slowly purged the clawing filth. Thick chunks of sludge sloughing off and revealing the innards: Corpses. All around him were hundreds of bodies, each one perfectly preserved. Jax glanced around and noticed that the field of dead were staring in the same direction. Their milky eyes and pale faces glancing off in the distance, waiting for some unknown command.


    That wasn¡¯t good, nothing in the bounty signaled this kind of power. While he had planned for a few surprises, an army of dead was not on the list. That was an incredible amount of power and nothing indicated that his target would have it. Dammit! He needed to think. He couldn¡¯t go back, but he didn¡¯t want to die. Dying here would be far worse than back home. Cycling through his visor¡¯s HUD. He began the process of reserving an emergency teleport. While he wouldn¡¯t be charged until used, it still made him pause. One click and he¡¯d be sent to the bottom. All his hard work gone with little chance of returning. Placing it on standby, Jax decided to do a bit more scouting.


    Climbing down the tree, he carefully moved towards the first body. He didn¡¯t even breathe on approach. But nothing happened. Grabbing his knife, he walked in front of the creature. Yet it didn¡¯t move, instead it just stared through him. Even stabbing the thing didn¡¯t cause a reaction. It was a puppet, not a flickering bit of life behind the eyes. It was all just a ruse.


    ¡°More showy than practical.¡± Jax muttered. They always had an ego, each and everyone.


    They were not a threat¡­for now. He shook off the stress and continued forward. Only this time he carefully maneuvered through the swamp, staying close to whatever cover he could find. Still, all those sitting corpses kept him unnerved. He was just waiting for them to spring to life and swarm. It wasn¡¯t unheard of for these types to use corpses as eyes. Did his target know he was here? The entire plan relied on stealth. In fact, nearly all hits relied on stealth. One wrong move and it was all over. An emergency teleport back home and tons of fees and fines.


    He knew where to go. Over the past few months he¡¯d gotten dozens of tips and first hand accounts. Some even tried to recruit him into their organization. Jax always politely declined, he couldn¡¯t stomach what they did. Still, as he approached the creature¡¯s power began to saturate the area. The swarms started to retreat and the ground solidified. Reaching the final ring of trees, he waited.

 1.2 Arrival

    ¡°HE IS COMING!¡±


    As fast as the blood was spilled, the mists absorbed it even quicker. Shadows coalesced within the billowing fog as something forced its way through. The ground shook, trees rattled, and even the corpses cried out in praise. A moment later, the smog exploded outwards. A visible shockwave rippled across the land, silencing the bloodfest. HE had arrived, Chothos the God of Death walked the mortal planes once more.


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    A heartstopping presence washed over the mire. Those that gazed upon the god felt their mortality waiver. Life was fragile and fleeting, one simple mistake and they¡¯d slip into his realm. It was completely still, a towering figure looming over the congregation. Even in the bright red light, no shadow was cast. He wore a robe made of draping cloth. Bounds of fabric covering every inch of his body. Only his eyes are visible in the dark shadows of the hood. Unlike the moon above, they were bright blue¨CA stark contrast to the crimson landscape. Those powerful eyes slowly gazed over his followers. Each one bowing their heads in deference. They were unworthy of his presence, fleeting specks of life drifting through space.


    Like his priest, Chothos carried a gnarled staff. Boney fingers grasped the twisted wood, the carved channels leaking wisps of smoke. The top adorned with the visages of life, three faces representing birth, growth, and death. Each one shifting every few moments into the images of the previously deceased. Swarms of flies and small carrion feeders buzzed about. His very presence passively spawned the foul creatures. Yet, for all their noise, they didn¡¯t touch the followers below. Only popping into existence for mere moments before returning to the smoke which birth them. As he stood, the air chilled. Frigid winds emanate from his form, coating the altar in a thin layer of ice. Satisfied with the congregation, he raised his hands high. Robes billowed outwards as his power was unleashed.


    ¡°STAND¡± His voice was a conglomeration of all. Men, Women, and Children. All those who crossed into his realm screeched out at once. .


    It was a unified movement as the entire crowd stood to greet their god. None dared to disobey nor interrupt his commands. His high priest parted the crowd allowing the god to go forth. He refused to touch the soil, instead he floated down from the altar. Even his robes avoided the mud, skirting along the top as he moved towards the sacrifices. Pausing at the laid out bodies, Chothos raised the staff high and slammed it into the ground.


    Tendrils of smoke flowed out from his sleeves and snaked down the wood. Bits of aetheric energy flickered within as it concentrated at the tip. Within moments, the condensed magics radiated outward. It wasn¡¯t natural, a pulsating, lumpy cloud of distilled death. Boulbous chunks crept along the surface enveloping the bodies. His power twisting the natural order of life. The wind picked up and spread that deathly chill across the site. Lingering water condensed into a sparkling mist diffusing the rays of moonlight into a dazzling display. Slowly, the gathering clouds forced its way into the bodies. Thick streams of filth violating the offerings.


    ¡°No¡­¡± Jax wanted to vomit, this was sickening. The cadavers writhing as the fetid magic violated the laws of nature before him. This was¡­ wrong.


    Slowly, the tainted air brought new life into the deceased. Chests began to pulse, muscles twitch, and violent gasps as they yearned for air. The reanimation was violent and distorted. Limbs bent in disturbing angles, fingers scratched at the stone with such force the nails were torn off, and deep cries of pain echoed across the space. Some tried to drag themselves off the slabs, an invisible force halting their movement.


    Jax instinctively went for his gun. It took a conscious effort to still his emotions. Seeing this twisted display only reinforced his ideals. Gods were the bane of progress, constantly halting those that may usurp them. Keeping humanity chained to its nature.. He¡¯d learned about such rituals in school, fairy tales told to the kids to explain the slayer profession. But those stories were much more vague than what was displayed. If he continued to watch, he¡¯d have to step in. Instead, he closed his eyes and waited. Those cracking bones and screaming voices hardening his heart. Only when the noise stopped did he dare open his eyes. The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    It was a miracle. A true divine intervention. Those bodies brimming with new life. Their features were restored to pre-death. Even the most rotted of corpses looked new. The filth, decay, and diseases were replaced with fresh flesh. Many were in tears, no doubt still feeling the pain of reanimation. Some tried to rush the crowd, but the slab kept them in place. An invisible prison trapping their essence. Each corpse was returned to their pre-death state. With the spell complete, the smoke retreated back to Chothos. Satisfied, he nodded to the priest. The man turned to address the onlookers.


    ¡°ON THIS NIGHT, OUR GOD GIVES US ONE FINAL GOODBYE. AS THANKS FOR YOUR DEVOTION, GO! GO SEE YOUR LOVED ONES ONCE MORE!¡± The priest commanded.


    All sense of sensibility was destroyed in that singular moment. To see and interact with a loved one once more was the greatest gift. It was a frenzy of a different kind, tears of sorrowful joy and wails of thankful grief filled the air. Families gathered and spoke to their mother, father, or friend one final time. Some apologized for deeds in the past, others joked together like they were at the bar, but all savored these precious moments. Emotions ran high and prayers of thanks were offered.


    Chothos and his priest slowly walked through the group. Many didn¡¯t even feel his approach until a cold hand lay on the shoulder. He said nothing, only staring down with those glowing eyes. The cool touch calms the raging thoughts, placing them in a state of zen. It was a simple thing, the weight of death pressing down and reminding them of the fragility of life. How a single moment can be the end of all. What was the point of fighting? What was the point of worrying? All things lead to this inevitable end, cherish the highs and make a claim on what little life they had. Some he lingered on longer than others, but not a single one was left untouched. As he shifted between groups, a faint trail of smoke began to web between them.


    Jax lifted his visor and spit out in disgust. It was all manipulation, a terrible ruse to keep the stock in check. The enhanced vision tracked the leaking life essence. Chothos was harvesting all he could. The greedy god siphoning the emotions and draining the energy. How many years did he steal? How many were sent to an early grave from these actions? It was never a fair trade. To see the dead at the cost of one¡¯s own life? Sure maybe a few might gain closure, but to give up freewill and worship this¡­monster?


    At least this one wasn¡¯t a torturer type. Those were the worst of the worst. Never giving, only taking. Still, it didn¡¯t matter how they gathered the energy¨CThey were all parasites. Each one was a burden to humanity. How much did he take to bring back the dead tonight? No doubt a plague would set in later. The villagers weakened bodies vulnerable to external forces. It was a vicious cycle with gods. Their ¡°gifts¡± resulted in plagues and wars. The followers called out for a miracle to halt the calamity. When they inevitably do, they steal even more. This god was showing his age, instead of only skimming the top. He was draining them to near death. All emotions gone, their bodies numb and frail. It was disturbing to view. One moment they were joking, wailing, or displaying some other grand emotion. Then absolute silence. Their eyes staring off into the distance from an addled mind. Sure they may mostly recover but that was a portion of their life gone. At least with most of the congregation a passed out mess, it made Jax''s job far easier.


    As the last groups were processed, Jax was ready. Most of the congregation lay in the fields. He slowly maneuvered around the ritual site, keeping to the shadows on his approach. He dare not break the threshold. Stopping a few inches away from the flickering barrier holding back the bugs. Pulling out his pistol, he carefully loaded it with a runic bullet.


    ¡°You better be worth it¡± he cursed.


    It all came to this singular moment. There were no second chances when dealing with deities. It seemed so simple. One shot, grab the remains, get out. Three easy steps and his life would change. Three simple tasks and he¡¯d break out of his hellhole of a home. But now, doubt started to trickle in. He should have waited another few years. Gathered more materials. Signed up for more training sessions. Damn this world and damn this place! He pushed back the negative thoughts and refocused. Not everything can be planned for. Don¡¯t let perfection be the enemy of progress.


    Raising the gun, he braced his arm, and took a wide stance. Nothing blocked the shot. It was only Chothos and he. The rest blurred out as he focused on the target. Two beings from different worlds, each powerful in their own way. One stole from humanity, while the other stole from the gods themselves. Stilling his breath, his finger rested on the trigger. He was ready. A simple twitch and¡­


    BANG

 1.3 Bang

    Stilling his breath, his finger rested on the trigger. He was ready. A simple twitch and¡­


    BANG


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    It was an explosion of sound. The tall trees trapping the waves and answering back in ear-shattering echoes. Chothos was fast, his head turning the moment the bullet passed the threshold, but it was too late. The god-blessed metal had been inscribed with the power of life. A minor deity¡¯s power was stolen and warped around the munition. It¡¯s life-giving energy leaving a trail of green tint light in its wake. All gods had a weakness and slayers were careful to find it. Life was the antithesis to death, and this was a concentrated shot of raw growth. The lingering magics transform the mud into a trail of bright flowers. Their colors reject the crimson light, shining with their true nature.


    It was a perfect hit. The bead smashing right into the god¡¯s hood. Smoke billowed outward as it tried to halt the bullet. But nothing could stop it, barriers, spells, and other defenses shattered as life battled death. Soon, the green tinted light disappeared as it crossed the shadows. Smoke was ejected from every opening, the dark mass trying to stifle the green light. Terrible screams radiated from the dying creature. Hundreds of intermixing voices calling out in agony. Jax couldn¡¯t help but smile at the creature¡¯s despair. It deserved every second of pain.


    Smoke was scattered as new growth appeared. Twisted vines crept through the cloth before rapidly rotting to dust. Chothos collapsed to the ground, his essence dripping from the body and rejoining the earth below. Its screams never halting as it tried to fight the life-giving bullet. Its fingers reaching out and trying to scoop up the dark smog. It was how gods should be, on their knees and begging for mercy.


    But Jax had none of it. He didn¡¯t give it a single moment to recover. While the bullet had been a serious injury, it still lived. He had hoped the shot would be enough. The thing took two years worth of salary to buy. Still, in this weakened state it shouldn¡¯t be too hard to finish off. As he rushed down the dying god, he reached into the side strap and pulled out the runic dagger. While not blessed with life, it did have some enchantments versus the divine. Cutting through the clouds of smoke, he leapt over the final ring aiming for the killing blow.


    Jax didn''t give it a moment to recover. He only had enough funds for that single bullet and needed to finish it the traditional way.One good strike and he''d be out of this place. His body burned as stimulants pumped through his veins. Leaping over the first ring, he launched himself towards the prone god.


    SMACK


    The high priest was ready to protect his god. The thrice-blessed staff smashed into Jax¡¯s ribs and sent him tumbling. His momentum only halted after crashing into a nearby stool. While the armor absorbed the bulk of the blow, it still hurt like hell. Jax quickly rolled back, barely avoiding the follow-up. The priest was quick, each swing carefully trained with uncanny precision. His movements flowing into each other, his body twisting alongside the weapon to maximize the force.


    Jax did his best to parry the unrelenting assault. His knife blocked the strikes, but not the impact. He nearly lost his grip from the heavy hits. But every few strikes, one got through. The armor denting from the enhanced strikes as more pain flooded the brain. He was far outclassed. Shifting through his H.U.D. He went to the stimulants, and various warnings appeared alongside waivers. It wasn¡¯t healthy to take a second hit this early, but what choice did he have? With one final click, the armor buzzed. Tiny needles injected various stimulants into the veins. A raging inferno spread throughout the limbs as the drugs took hold. For a brief moment, he experienced unbearably agony¡­then nothing. The nerves deadened and the mind cleared.


    He felt amazing. What was once a blur, now a crawl. The priest¡¯s face turned to terror as Jax easily swatted the staff and lashed out with his own strike. Shifting the weight, the priest pushed back on his staff launching backwards. A hand dug into the soft earth to slow the movement as his lips muttered something profane. Reaching up, tendrils of thick smog shot out and smashed into the powersuit.


    Integrity rapidly dropped as alarms screamed out. The deathly magics corroded the metal and degraded the joints. Thinking quickly, Jax kicked up a log and sent it flying towards the source. The spell shifted and the log shattered against the wall of smoke. Chunks of decaying wood flying out in all directions. He rushed the man once more, not letting the priest recover.


    The man took on a defensive stance and focused on parrying the attacks. Jax couldn¡¯t find an opening even with the enhancements. All he needed was to land a final blow on that injured being behind. But it was like fighting a wall, the priest only taking a step back on occasion. It wasn¡¯t about winning this battle, but beating time itself. Each second was another moment of recovery. Already the deathly smog was starting to gather around the injured thing. Those tendrils seeping into the wounds returning some of the lost power. Jax split his focus on pushing the priest and watching the god. He was so close to finishing it. But he missed the creeping fumes around his boot.


    Jax tried to dodge the next attack, but his leg didn¡¯t move. He could see the trap, but didn¡¯t have the reflexes to stop it. The priest had borrowed the lingering magic of his dying god. A thin trail of his essence chaining the slayer to the earth. Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Jax felt the staff slam into his skull. His vision went hazy from his jostling brain. Instinctively he slashed outwards and forced the priest back. Crouching, he cut through the spell before falling into a defensive stance. He waited for the followup, but it never came. Only a few seconds later did the swirls stop and he saw the man at the altar. The priest held the sacrificial dagger in hand and muttered one final prayer.


    ¡°Shit shit shit¡± Jax cursed as the man slashed his throat.


    A cascade of blood poured out of the deep wound. His eyes staring directly into Jax¡¯s own. There was no regret, only jubilant devotion. The priest collapsed onto the altar, his very flesh given to Chothos. Blood met smoke, the two intertwining as the god¡¯s essence entered the dying man¡¯s body. His original form disappearing as it set root in the most devoted follower.


    Just tried to halt the ritual. Throwing his dagger with as much force as he could. But, those few seconds were all it took. Chothos became one with the priest. His hand easily snatched the dagger from the air. The runes flaring briefly before shattering in a dazzling display of power. Tossing the metal to the side, the newly formed avatar slowly stood.


    The thing took a few moments to test out the new body. Smoke seeping out of every pore and caressing the exposed skin. Muscles shifted and transformed, the face taking on a more graven look. Within moments, the priest was no more. Replaced by the god¡¯s own facsimile. His mouth opened and a cascade of insects flowed from within. Mosquitos, flies, and other feeders swarming around the pale-skinned man. The pupils split into a clover pattern as the glowing blue appeared. Even the air itself deadened. Colors were drained and the world turned pale. The two made eye contact, and a look of pure malice appeared.


    ¡°Oh the torments you''ll endure¡­¡± While the priest was the primary voice, it was amplified by a choir behind it.


    The avatar blurred as it rushed the slayer. Jax barely blocked the first strike, stance nearly broken as the boots slid along the mud. He could barely track the empowered being as the flurry of blows came. Each one perfectly aimed to deal maximum damage. Long streaks of necrotic filth followed the staff¡¯s wake, the clinging gunk eating through the armor with each hit. If that touched the skin, it¡¯d be an instant death. He could barely see as the swarms of bloodsuckers obscured his sight. The sentient creatures crawled along his suit, searching for any opening to exploit. Toxic fumes rapidly melted the respirator as the air took on a horrid stench.


    He couldn¡¯t counter, he couldn¡¯t even block. Instead, he just tried to endure the onslaught. Doing his best to make some distance between him and the god. But the thing was unrelenting. Not even giving the slayer time to think. It took every ounce of willpower to not take the emergency teleport. Sure he¡¯d return alive¡­but maybe it was better to die here then be destitute back home. Society wasn¡¯t kind to failures and if he couldn¡¯t pay the debts he¡¯d be assigned to some of the worst jobs for decades. With nothing to lose, Jax went for one final gamble. An act of desperation.


    One more hit and he fell to his knees. Even the drugs couldn¡¯t halt the pain he¡¯d felt from the blow. Seeing the battle come to a close, the avatar swung in for the killing blow. Jax pushed his body to the limit and leaned into the arching swing. His power suit shattered under the impact exposing his final line of defense. All along his body were dozens of tattoos. Each designed to assist in combat. Jax felt the ink flare to life as the deathly magics seeped into the flesh. Wrapping his arm around the staff, he grabbed his second dagger and jammed it into the creature''s side.


    He didn¡¯t want to reveal it until this moment. The god had easily destroyed the last enchantments, and no doubt would do it again. Pushing it with all his strength, he felt the metal pierce through the back of the god. Thick ichor leaked out and along his gloves. The god¡¯s essence transforms into the toxic smog before quickly dissipating. It stumbled back, holding onto the wound. As it tried to halt the flow, Jax kept stabbing. Each and every strike carving out chunks of divine power. This was the end. He was going to win.


    He was so focused on the quick end, that he didn¡¯t notice the congregation returning. A flood of fanatics smashed into him, pulling him back. While weak, the surprise assault worked. He was tackled to the ground as they tore at the suit.


    ¡°Get OFF!¡± He screamed and tossed a few across the field.


    One fell and instantly snapped his neck on a nearby stone. Others lay still as their bones shattered from the force. Jax slowly stood up, angered that they¡¯d interrupt the duel. He was here to SAVE them. They were too far gone, this village was too enthralled. With no other options, Jax pushed the sorrows aside and shifted the dagger into a side grip. This backwoods realm thought they had met death. But Jax was going to show them what true death was.


    He danced around the congregation with ease. His knife plunging deep into the flesh, each swing ending the life of the fanatics. But they didn¡¯t relent. They continued to claw at the armor, some throwing stones at him. His punches shattered skulls, his kicks caving in chests, and his tackles crushing internal organs. It was such a waste. How could any creature sacrifice so many for its own survival? With one final swing, he cut down the last piece of resistance. Only to see a rage inducing sight.


    Like the priest before them, the remaining members were in the middle of a dangerous ritual. Each on their knees and arms splayed outwards. Frantic prayers lift their muttering lips as they offer up their devotion. Each word they spoke brought more smoke into this world. The gathering power swirling around the injured god, forming a protective cocoon. But it wasn¡¯t without sacrifice. As they prayed they were rapidly aged. Their lifeforce willingly given to heal their god. They had been conned, they had been tricked.. He had shared meals with these people. Given gifts and advice. Even used his knowledge to heal some from the brink of death. But now¡­ now they were batteries for this terrible deity. Each one intertwined with Chothos. They did not fear death, for death walked with him.


    Jax knew true gods were empowered by worship. Their strength grew in proportion to the favor garnered. Some took on a closed circle and demanded utmost devotion, others were more easy going. Palatable to the masses and only skimming a bit from each one. He wished this one was the latter, but he was wrong. With a sorrowful gaze, he turned from the avatar and towards the remaining followers. This was the only way.

 1.4 Culling

    Jax knew true gods were empowered by worship. Their strength grew in proportion to the favor garnered. Some took on a closed circle and demanded utmost devotion, others were more easy going. Palatable to the masses and only skimming a bit from each one. He wished this one was the latter, but he was wrong. With a sorrowful gaze, he turned from the avatar and towards the remaining followers. This was the only way.


    ¡ª---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    He couldn¡¯t let this go on. It was only a few steps before he stabbed the first man, the dagger piercing straight through the skull. He pulled the gore-covered weapon out before slamming it into the jaw of the second. Even as the knife impaled the man¡¯s cheek, he continued to pray. He pulled it downwards severing the tongue alongside the jaw. Even still, the dying worshiper continued to gargle out praise. Jax slammed his boot downwards, splattering the skull under the treads before tossing the knife into the third. The chanting man fell back as the metal pierced his heart, futility pulling at the serrated weapon. Two more reached for his arms, but the drug-crazed slayer barely noticed. Slamming them down, he heard their bodies crack from the force. Blood spurting from their gaping mouths as their internals were pulverized. He pulled out his dagger and kicked the dying man back¨CThe sternum shattering in the process. Twisting, he slammed the dagger into the cocoon. The smoke scattered and Chothos was gone. He had to have retreated earlier, no doubt to try and recover from the grievous injuries. But that only made things easier for the slayer¡­


    Gods could be classified into two types. The first grouping were known as false gods, these beings were given their powers through an external force. This could be through a breakthrough in science, absorbing some leyline of energy, or just random luck. They were inherently linked with their pool of power. Their abilities reflect their creation as they strive for more strength. They were a bit more¡­esoteric beings. Living machines, walking globs of magical energy, or even twisted horrors torn between realms. He¡¯d seen pictures of previous false ones. Mortal men merged with long lost alien tech. Their bodies incorporated into towering constructs that aimlessly wandered the countryside. Others tainted by their innermost greed, tapping into the power of money and fueled by the cursed gold surrounding them. With every coin added to the coffer, their own strength grew. To a slayer, the best way to take them on was disrupting that central powersource. Make the rich destitute, unleash a E.M.P, or drain out the leyline. Of course it was easier said than done, they wouldn¡¯t go down without a fight.


    The second and most common were the true gods. These were creatures that were birthed from mortal desires. Beings that never lived a normal life. Ideas made manifest, needs begging to be met, or even just elaborate rituals fueled by sacrifice. Some started as folktails, stories to keep children from acting out. But as they spread, the belief hardened. What was once made up, began to appear. Most stopped at that, just creatures praying on humanity¡¯s outskirts. But some continued to evolve. Cults formed around the beings, sacrifices made in their name. Each action strengthens it into godhood.


    They had different levels of power proportional to the amount of essence they stole. Some were gods of vermin whose only purpose was keeping the rats out of flour. Others were saints of certain professions. Beseeched to protect blacksmiths from scorching fires. But their inherent power was spread amongst the followers. Sure some may form consecrated lands. Regions where their power drifts and coalesces, but at their core they were just an idea. A living concept, a desperate wish, or some unanswered question that humanity begged a reason for. Their entire existence hinged on the strength of the worshipers.


    After witnessing the raw devotion Chothos¡¯ followers displayed. Jax had no choice but to cull the flock. They were living batteries fueling the terrible being. Each one sacrificing their essence to keep the god alive. Their minds addled and followed his commands without question. That kind of power could only be disrupted in a singular way. With renewed vigor, Jax continued forward. They no longer appeared as people, instead only puppets for the dying god.


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    This was no longer a duel, it was him versus the village. Sprinting across the muddy field, he rushed towards the remaining villagers. He needed to move quickly. If the god realized what was going on, things would get much harder. Emotions ran rampant as he approached the mourning mass. They were lost, brainwashed, and enthralled¨CBut he would save them all. Brandishing the bloodied knife, he thrust it into the neck of a crying man. Blood spurted from the deep wound, each pulse of the heart sending out another blast. Before the body even fell, Jax slammed his elbow into the next. A sickening crack echoed in the forest as the face caved inwards. Pulling out the dagger, he sliced at the slabs barrier. In a flash of light, he tore through the spell. Whipping winds radiate from the rock as the trapped spirit was released. It was only the first of many, they were too far gone. By the time the sun rose, he would liberate them all. ,


    Glistening blood followed in the weapon¡¯s wake. Arcing sprays of the crimson liquid splattering his suit. Screams of pain quickly silenced as they bled out in the mud. Their pleas of mercy falling on deaf ears. Jax knew it was a trick, something to delay and toy at his emotions. But it was hard to ignore the wails. Bile rose up in the throat as he continued to slaughter the congregation. It wasn¡¯t what he wanted, but it was a necessary evil¡­


    Chothos staggered forward, the deity screaming as its lifeforce was chipped away. Each death drains him of power. The unknown man assaulted his very essence. Nothing else mattered, that man had to die. Spinning the staff in the air, it gathered strength from those still alive. Thick, vicious smoke wrapping around his body as he channeled the spell. He cared not for his followers any longer. If he didn¡¯t halt the massacre they¡¯d all be dead anyway. With the decision made, he slammed the weapon into the ground. A wave of putrid rot erupts across the landscape. .


    Jax felt the attack before it hit. A sensation of bugs crawled beneath his skin, the chillness of death stiffening the muscles, and a tickle of blood dripping down his nose.. Turning back towards the god, he saw the wave of viscous smog wash over the land. Sparks of divine might flickered within roiling clouds. It covered the entire landscape leaving little room to dodge. With no other option, Jax dug his heels into the ground and tore off his glove. Focusing his own will into the dozens of tattoos, his palm began to glow. A hazy barrier appeared in front of him just as the wall of death arrived. Pain shot through his wrist as the spell absorbed the brunt of the impact. He was a small pocket within the churning mass of death manifest.


    The others nearby were not so lucky. That billowing cloud of decay quickly infected the congregation. Dark veins sprouted across the flesh as necrosis set in. Fingers sloughed off leaving exposed bone behind. Lips cracked and eyes melted as they withered away. Bits of flesh oozed from the flailing bodies until only the skeleton remained.


    It was a battle of wills. Jax could feel the tattoo¡¯s burn within his skin. The divine ink seared the flesh as its power was unleashed. He couldn¡¯t stop now. Grunting out, he forced back the pain and refused to budge. Time slowed and he counted each breath. How much power had been used for this? He could feel the ink starting to falter, bits of it evaporating as it was used up. But somehow he made it. The billowing wall of death rot dissipates. His arm felt numb after the attack, his brain cloudy from the battle of wills. Glancing up, he saw the god stumble forward. The being using his staff as a makeshift crutch. No doubt that spell drained him of might. But the true horror was the spell''s aftermath.


    Various worshippers littered the battlefield in different stages of decay. Many in positions of extreme pain, while others in prayer. No doubt calling out to Chothos to spare them. But god¡¯s didn¡¯t care. For all their devotion, their only reward was to defile the land with their putrescence. From the piles of filth, carrion feeders were spontaneously birthed. A hum of buzzing insects swarming the carrion and feasting on the lingering flesh. They ignore the two combatants, instead focusing on the lush banquet before them.


    Both took a moment of rest, reassessing the field of battle. However, Jax couldn¡¯t let the god fully recover. Pulling out his trusted pistol, he quickly loaded the weapon and aimed it at the farther members. Each shot penetrated the skulls killing them in an instant. The act further enraged the god. He had spent hundreds of years building up this village. Nudging the community into new ways of life. Slowly ingraining himself into society. Each day his power grew a little more. Even now they were starting to spread to neighboring towns. Missionaries working to extend his influence. He was prepared to battle other gods. But this¡­man was ruining it all. There was no more time for offerings. He was going to take what was rightfully his.

 1.5 Death

    Even now they were starting to spread to neighboring towns. Missionaries working to extend his influence. He was prepared to battle other gods. But this¡­man was ruining it all. There was no more time for offerings. He was going to take what was rightfully his.


    ¡ª-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    With a wave of the hand, two nearby followers collapsed. Their essence seeping from the mouth drifting into the god¡¯s own. Chothos took a deep breath savoring their lifeforce and healing some of his wounds. While it wasn¡¯t as efficient as a willing sacrifice, it allowed him to continue the assault. This time he was more conservative with his actions. Shooting out thick balls of dark magic. Each one designed to kill in a single hit. Once this man was dead, he was going to enjoy torturing the soul.


    But Jax was used to these games. His own magic easily dispelling the magical assault. One hand swatted away the deathly energy, while the other continued to fire. He took a moment to reload only to see the realm shift. No longer was the god trying to fight from afar, instead the smoke thickened. It rose high into the sky and obscured his vision. Even the enhanced visor couldn¡¯t penetrate the bubbling clouds.


    ¡°Damn it all¡± he cursed.


    Chothos shifted into a semi-corporal form and swept across the land. Jax tossed the pistol to the side and tried to track the quick movement.


    ¡°GOT YOU¡± He turned as the god returned to flesh.


    The being reappearing behind mid swing. Holding up the dagger, he blocked the assault. His bones rattled as the force reverberated through him. He twisted to the side and smashed the hilt into the god¡¯s cheek. Magic flared as the bone shattered on impact. Even still, it felt like he¡¯d hit a tungsten wall. Tossing the dagger to his left hand, he shook out the right in pain. Chothos stumbled back unleashing a cascade of screams. Those still alive collapsed in pain. It was a banshee¡¯s wail that shattered ruptured eardrums.


    His suit filtered out most of the ear-piercing sound. Ignoring the cries, he shifted his stance and attacked once more. Chothos was able to match the assault. His staff parried each strike and narrowly avoiding the god-tainted blade. But Jax saw through it all, he was far slower than before. He had killed so many followers, each one weakening his adversary. Emboldened, Jax started to take a few risks. He needed to land one last good blow.


    The god quickly reverted to more trickery instead. Shifting the smoke clouds, the choking gasses enveloped the two. With vision all but gone, Jax tried to disengage. He worked on instinct as the raging creature attacked from all directions. His form shifted in and out of the clouds in moments. Only through his drugged out brain and environmental scanners did he have a chance at blocking. Through sheer luck, he stabbed the god through the arm. The smoke clearing as Chothos jumped back. Even the obscuring wall was gone. In the distance he noticed a few more followers had died, their bodies shrivial and drained. He shouldn¡¯t have dropped the pistol, he could have taken out a few more.


    Without any further distractions, he stepped forward. It was time to end this charade. He lunged towards the god¡¯s heart, his wrist knocked to the side. Keeping the momentum, he answered the parry with a leg sweep. His suit cracked as it smashed into the robes, but the god stumbled from the impact. Twisting, he swung his dagger and felt it sink into the flesh.


    ¡°FUCKING DIE¡± He cried out as he forced the blade all the way to the hilt.


    But Chothos was a petty being. Like the before, it decided on one final gambit. Jax felt those cold fingers wrap around his arm. Black ichor slowly eating through the protective metal. He tried to pull free, but the god held fast. All around him the remaining followers rapidly perished. The parasite sucking out the last bits to fuel this final curse. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    ¡°GET OFF¡± Jax screamed out. He tried kicking the creature, punching with his free hand, but nothing worked.


    Pain flared through the flesh as the necrotic grasp reached the skin. His suit blaring with alarms as the integrity failed. Chothos slowly worked through the defensive markings, uncaring of how many died to break through. One by one, the ink oozed from the skin. The power was dismantled and the wards failed. No amount of drug could halt the agony he felt. IT was as if each nerve was meticulously dissected for utmost pain. Only when the last enchantment failed did the god let go.


    His laugh one of ridicule and mockery. His body no longer smoking, but drips from the gaping wounds. Even if he was banished from this world, the slayer would go with him. Jax held his arm and stared at the dying flesh. His skin turned blue as his veins blackened. Each vessel pulsating under the skin, the congealed mass of decaying material pushed into untainted sections. His fingers liquified in seconds, the dagger falling alongside the chunks of rotten meat. Each passing moment, that terrible curse crept upwards. His forearm is gone and already his bicep is weakening. Suddenly, a question popped into his vision.


    ¡°Do it¡± he panted.


    Immediately, the shoulder joints constricted. Jax fell to his knees as metal dug deep into the flesh. There were no painkillers, there was nothing to bite down on, he just had to endure. Only two seconds had passed when the suit amputated the infected limb. His arm fell to the ground in a cascade of blood before rotting into soup. Stumbling up, his legs quivered and his vision hazy. This wasn¡¯t how the fight was supposed to go. It should have ended on the first shot.


    The action furthered the laughter of the dying god. A cacophony of screams jeering at his misfortune. But the fight was near its end. Only five followers remained, the rest dead. Even those ones were nearly comatose from his earlier actions. With such little power, it couldn¡¯t fully heal the deathblow. Only stifling the wound, delaying his demise. Grabbing the staff once more, it slowly walked towards the man. It¡¯s eyes fading and returning to a human-like quality. There would be no more show, all its power would be used for these final moments.


    Jax tucked backwards, narrowly avoiding the strike. Mud splashed onto his face as the weapon smashed down. He was a bit off-balance from the missing limb, but the god seemed to be even slower. He kicked outwards, the boot crashing into the creature¡¯s knee. It felt¡­weak. The bone snapping and bending backwards from the impact. As the god stumbled forward, Jax hooked upwards and slammed his elbow into the falling face. He might be one armed, but that didn¡¯t mean he was unarmed. Globs of black blood flung from the beings mouth as it tumbled to the side. The thing tried to get up, but with the shattered leg it couldn¡¯t stand.


    Holding the bloody stump of his shoulder, Jax felt a surge of exhaustion take hold. The drugs had worn out and the effects hit him hard. Muscles locked up and he nearly vomited from the extreme pain. His vision started to blur as darkness crept in from the sides. It couldn¡¯t end like this! He bit his lip, tearing off a chunk of flesh to focus. Stumbling forward, he approached the pathetic creature. Leaning back slightly, he kicked the creature''s side. The tip of his boot crunching the ribs and exploding the organs within. Black, watery discharge leaked from the open wounds and pooled on the ground below. Jax struck the thing so hard, that fetid fluid splattered his own visor.


    He paused. His body swayed under the crimson light. Sweat poured from his brow as warm blood trickled down his neck. The mangled god tried to crawl away. Faint whispers emanating from its lips, dozens upon dozens of deals, promises, and threats tickled the ears. How they could be partners and rule this realm, how he¡¯d never fear death again, how he could be the strongest being to exist. All sweet words to stroke his ego. But Jax knew better, to live under a god was to give up one¡¯s right to be human. That bubbling disgust rising up once more.


    Pulling down his visor, he wanted the dying thing to see its killer. The two make contact for a brief moment, a mutual understanding passing both. Raising his foot once more, he slammed it down into the god¡¯s face. Bone caved inwards as the skull splattered along the field. A ripple of power emanates from the falling god. Its death wail echoing throughout the mire. But it was done. There was no smoke, there was no magic, just the splattered brains of a god made manifest. Looking up, Jax smiled as the moon slowly shifted back to blue. The beautiful stars returning and the sense of dread leaving. He could return home.

 1.6 - The First Kill

    Even now they were starting to spread to neighboring towns. Missionaries working to extend his influence. He was prepared to battle other gods. But this¡­man was ruining it all. There was no more time for offerings. He was going to take what was rightfully his.


    ¡ª-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    With a wave of the hand, two nearby followers collapsed. Their essence seeped from the mouth drifting into the god¡¯s own. Chothos took a deep breath savoring their lifeforce and healing some of his wounds. While it wasn¡¯t as efficient as a willing sacrifice, it allowed him to continue the assault. This time he was more conservative with his actions. Shooting out thick balls of dark magic. Each one is designed to kill in a single hit. Once this man was dead, he was going to enjoy torturing the soul.


    But Jax was used to these games. His magic easily dispelled the magical assault. One hand swatted away the deathly energy, while the other continued to fire. He took a moment to reload only to see the realm shift. No longer was the god trying to fight from afar, instead the smoke thickened. It rose high into the sky and obscured his vision. Even the enhanced visor couldn¡¯t penetrate the bubbling clouds.


    ¡°Damn it all¡± he cursed.


    Chothos shifted into a semi-corporal form and swept across the land. Jax tossed the pistol to the side and tried to track the quick movement.


    ¡°GOT YOU¡± He turned as the god returned to flesh.


    The being reappears behind mid-swing. Holding up the dagger, he blocked the assault. His bones rattled as the force reverberated through him. He twisted to the side and smashed the hilt into the god¡¯s cheek. Magic flared as the bone shattered on impact. Even still, it felt like he¡¯d hit a tungsten wall. Tossing the dagger to his left hand, he shook out the right in pain. Chothos stumbled back unleashing a cascade of screams. Those still alive collapsed in pain. It was a banshee¡¯s wail that shattered ruptured eardrums.


    His suit filtered out most of the ear-piercing sound. Ignoring the cries, he shifted his stance and attacked once more. Chothos was able to match the assault. His staff parried each strike and narrowly avoided the god-tainted blade. But Jax saw through it all, he was far slower than before. He had killed so many followers, each one weakening his adversary. Emboldened, Jax started to take a few risks. He needed to land one last good blow.


    The god quickly reverted to more trickery instead. Shifting the smoke clouds, the choking gasses enveloped the two. With vision all but gone, Jax tried to disengage. He worked on instinct as the raging creature attacked from all directions. His form shifted in and out of the clouds in moments. Only through his drugged-out brain and environmental scanners did he have a chance at blocking. Through sheer luck, he stabbed the god through the arm. The smoke cleared as Chothos jumped back. Even the obscuring wall was gone. In the distance he noticed a few more followers had died, their bodies shrivel and drained. He shouldn¡¯t have dropped the pistol, he could have taken out a few more.


    Without any further distractions, he stepped forward. It was time to end this charade. He lunged towards the god¡¯s heart, his wrist knocked to the side. Keeping the momentum, he answered the parry with a leg sweep. His suit cracked as it smashed into the robes, but the god stumbled from the impact. Twisting, he swung his dagger and felt it sink into the flesh.


    ¡°FUCKING DIE¡± He cried out as he forced the blade to the hilt.


    But Chothos was a petty being. Like before, it decided on one final gambit. Jax felt those cold fingers wrap around his arm. Black ichor slowly eats through the protective metal. He tried to pull free, but the god held fast. All around him the remaining followers rapidly perished. The parasite sucking out the last bits to fuel this final curse. Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.


    ¡°GET OFF¡± Jax screamed out. He tried kicking the creature, punching with his free hand, but nothing worked.


    Pain flared through the flesh as the necrotic grasp reached the skin. His suit blared with alarms as the integrity failed. Chothos slowly worked through the defensive markings, uncaring of how many died to break through. One by one, the ink oozed from the skin. The power was dismantled and the wards failed. No amount of drug could halt the agony he felt. It was as if each nerve was meticulously dissected for utmost pain. Only when the last enchantment failed did the god let go.


    His laugh was one of ridicule and mockery. His body no longer smoking, but drips from the gaping wounds. Even if he was banished from this world, the slayer would go with him. Jax held his arm and stared at the dying flesh. His skin turned blue as his veins blackened. Each vessel pulsating under the skin, the congealed mass of decaying material pushed into untainted sections. His fingers liquified in seconds, the dagger falling alongside the chunks of rotten meat. With each passing moment, that terrible curse crept upwards. His forearm is gone and already his bicep is weakening. Suddenly, a question popped into his vision.


    ¡°Do it¡± he panted.


    Immediately, the shoulder joints constricted. Jax fell to his knees as metal dug deep into the flesh. There were no painkillers, there was nothing to bite down on, he just had to endure. Only two seconds had passed when the suit amputated the infected limb. His arm fell to the ground in a cascade of blood before rotting into soup. Stumbling up, his legs quivered and his vision hazy. This wasn¡¯t how the fight was supposed to go. It should have ended on the first shot.


    The action furthered the laughter of the dying god. A cacophony of screams jeering at his misfortune. But the fight was near its end. Only five followers remained. They were swaying in the wind, their life force nearly drained. With such little power, it couldn¡¯t fully heal the deathblow. Only stifling the wound, delaying his demise. Grabbing the staff once more, it slowly walked towards the man. Its eyes fade and return to a human-like quality. There would be no more show, all its power would be used for these final moments.


    Jax tucked backward, narrowly avoiding the strike. Mud splashed onto his face as the weapon smashed down. He was a bit off-balance from the missing limb, but the god seemed to be even slower. He kicked outwards, the boot crashing into the creature¡¯s knee. It felt¡­weak. The bone snapped and bent backward from the impact. As the god stumbled forward, Jax hooked upwards and slammed his elbow into the falling face. He might be one-armed, but that didn¡¯t mean he was unarmed. Globs of black blood flung from the mouth of the being as it tumbled to the side. The thing tried to get up, but with the shattered leg, it couldn¡¯t stand.


    Holding the bloody stump of his shoulder, Jax felt a surge of exhaustion take hold. The drugs had worn out and the effects hit him hard. Muscles locked up and he nearly vomited from the extreme pain. His vision started to blur as darkness crept in from the sides. It couldn¡¯t end like this! He bit his lip, tearing off a chunk of flesh to focus. Stumbling forward, he approached the pathetic creature. Leaning back slightly, he kicked the creature''s side. The tip of his boot crunched the ribs and exploded the organs within. Black, watery discharge leaked from the open wounds and pooled on the ground below. Jax struck the thing so hard, that fetid fluid splattered his visor.


    He paused. His body swayed under the crimson light. Sweat poured from his brow as warm blood trickled down his neck. The mangled god tried to crawl away. Faint whispers emanating from its lips, dozens upon dozens of deals, promises, and threats tickled the ears. How they could be partners and rule this realm, how he¡¯d never fear death again, how he could be the strongest being to exist. All sweet words to stroke his ego. But Jax knew better, to live under a god was to give up one¡¯s right to be human. That bubbling disgust rose once more.


    Pulling down his visor, he wanted the dying thing to see its killer. The two make contact for a brief moment, a mutual understanding passing both. Raising his foot once more, he slammed it down into the god¡¯s face. Bone caved inwards as the skull splattered along the field. A ripple of power emanates from the falling god. Its death wail echoed throughout the mire. But it was done. There was no smoke, there was no magic, just the splattered brains of a god made manifest. Looking up, Jax smiled as the moon slowly shifted back to blue. The beautiful stars returned and the sense of dread left. He could return home.

 1.7 - Getting the Loot

    Pulling down his visor, he wanted the dying thing to see its killer. The two make contact for a brief moment, and a mutual understanding passes between them. Raising his foot, he slammed it down into the god¡¯s face. Bone caved inwards as the skull splattered along the field. A ripple of power emanates from the falling god. Its death wail echoed throughout the mire. But it was done. There was no smoke, there was no magic, just the splattered brains of a god made manifest. Looking up, Jax smiled as the moon slowly shifted back to blue. The sky returned to its beautiful sight. He could return home.


    ¡ª-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Jax just stood there for a brief moment. His eyes tracked the lights above. For a brief moment, the pain and suffering left him. He stood amongst the dead, savoring the natural beauty of the land. No thoughts crossed his mind, it was only him and the stars above. How he wished this moment could last forever.  No worry about money, no worry about life, just being one with the universe.


    Back home, it was nearly impossible to see the night lights. The skies were filled with smog and pollution. But here he could see the bands of the Milky Way illuminating the darkness. Trails of falling meteors struck across his vision. No wonder so many gods were based on the stars, to see such wonders every night would have anyone''s imagination running unchecked. But reality was the worst of all and it was a crushing force of suffering.


    That brief moment of respite shattered as the exhaustion caught up. His body emptied of drugs and he stumbled in pain. The cracked ribs felt like daggers with each breath. His muscles cramping in revolt. A throbbing headache roiling across his skull from the withdrawals. Even his eyes hurt, the whites now bloodied from overuse. He slowly moved to the altar, plopping onto the wet ground, he rested his back against the bloodied stone.


    His breathing was shallow as he tried to fight through the suffering. Short, quick breaths to mitigate the broken bones. Time passed as he just sat, slowly regaining a bit of energy after the duel. A deep gurgle emanated from his stomach as a deep hunger took hold. How many calories did he burn? Twisting, he grunted in pain as he reached for a protein bar. Pulling back the plastic he tried to take a bite.


    Instead, bile rose from within and he coughed up bloody phlegm. That wasn¡¯t good, hopefully, the doctors back home could heal the internals. Still, he had to eat. His suit could handle the most basic of repairs, but it used his own body to do it. It hurt to swallow. His jaw was sore and stiff from battle. His throat was dry and he was dehydrated from the fight. He needed water, but he¡¯d never drink that muck without filtration. A few times, he felt his stomach fight him. Holding his lips, he swallowed back down the vomit and continued to chew.


    With the last bite swallowed. Jax let it settle for a few minutes before trying to stand. While sore, it wasn¡¯t as bad as before. Using his free hand, he pulled himself up¨C legs wobbling under the weight. With newfound clarity, he glanced over the battlefield. Confliction emotions welled up from within. He¡¯d killed the god but at what cost? There were so many bodies, each one killed by his hand or the god they worshipped. In this locus of death, decay accelerated. Deep cuts overflowing with maggots and other scavengers. Others were left mostly untouched, their shriveled bodies resting in the fields with pained expressions. Their eyes were milky and filled with a look of betrayal. Only in their dying moments did they realize the true nature of the one they worshiped. So much blood had been spilled the coppery scent lingered in the air.


    Yet that was only the start. As the god¡¯s power faded, all it created unraveled. The hundreds of corpses littering the swamp rapidly decayed. Each one bloating with noxious gasses, their bodies distended and seeping black blood. Birds and other scavengers pecked at the oozing eyes, burrowing into the discolored flesh. Some exploded from the building pressure, splattering the surroundings in congealed viscera. The waters transformed into a diseased slime as the dark ichor contaminated the lands.


    Leeches, flies, and other insects swarmed the lands. It was a wondrous feast for the creatures of the mire. The dark cloud of buzzing monsters stripping the flesh and gnawing at the bone. Still, the lingering magic kept the altar somewhat safe. Chothos¡¯ threshold is still slightly empowered and holding back the vermin. Jax was thankful for that, he didn¡¯t want to perish from these bloodsuckers. Still, he was thankful to see them reappear on their own, it meant the realm was returning to its natural state.


    With his target slain, it was time to head home. Letting go of the altar, he took a few steps to collect the prize. But his legs buckled and he collapsed to the ground. His body partially sank into the mud. He tried to stand, but the exhaustion kept him chained. There was no more fight, he could only sleep. Rolling onto his back, he closed his eyes and let the darkness take hold.


    Hours passed before the sun rose. It''s a warm glow washing across the lands and scattering many of the buzzing flies. The glowing touch soothed the skin and gently woke the slayer. Did he die? Is this the afterlife? But moments later the pain returned and he sat up. He still felt¡­weak. Muscles burning with lactic acid build-up, lips chapped and bleeding, and what felt like a full body flu. Honestly, it was worse than that. He felt extremely hungover AND had the flu. The only thing that felt ok was his stomach. He thanked his past self for forcing that down else it¡¯d be even worse now.


    Leaning down, he gave his leg a brief massage. Something to get the blood flowing before stretching out his arm. Instinctively he tried to scratch his face only to remember the missing limb. That was going to be extremely expensive to heal. But at least he was alive. He thought back on the fight, how many times he nearly died, and couldn¡¯t help but laugh. Why the hell did he think this was a good idea? Sure life back home was awful, but was it as bad as sitting in a fetid swamp with a missing limb? It was absurd, but he felt proud. He¡¯d done the impossible, he killed a god. He¡¯d finally be a true Godslayer! The sense of pride and accomplishment pushed away the fatigue and gave him a burst of energy.


    It was time to return home. Supplies were low and the fight was done. Still, there were a few things to wrap up before he could go back. Making a mental list, he scoured the mud for his weapons. The first wasn¡¯t too far from the altar, the metal dagger reflecting the light as it sat on the ground. Pulling it out, he wiped the gunk onto his leg and inspected the metal. Unauthorized usage: this narrative is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.


    All the runework was gone. That stupid creature stripped the dagger¡¯s power and turned it into a hunk of metal. Now it was still a nice piece of metal, but worthless. Maybe he could pawn it off back home and try to get some return. It sucked because the enchantments took the most money. This one dagger cost him nearly two years of savings. All for it to be gone in mere moments. Sliding it back into the pocket, he continued the search.


    His gun was the opposite. The object is in nearly perfect condition even after the fight. Unlike the knife, this had a basic enchantment. It kept the object dirt-free. Giving it a good shake, all the lingering grime fell off the metal. Its original shine appeared once more. He¡¯d have to get it named¨COfficially. Weapons that survived fights picked up a bit of the lingering essence. Each one becomes a little bit more powerful after every battle. Giving it a name helped to ground the belief, a focus that the magics to hook to.


    But most of all was the dagger that stabbed the beast. Already it took on a slightly darker tone. The once-glistening metal now partially absorbs the sun¡¯s rays. Going from metallic steel to tarnished silver. Grabbing the hilt, he could feel a slight coolness in the wrappings. Taking a closer look, he noticed the cloth mimicked Chotho¡¯s own. He wouldn¡¯t want to get it appraised and see what new enchantments it acquired. Tearing off a bit of cloth from a nearby body, he carefully wrapped the weapon and slid it into the pouch. Worst case he could sell it for a pretty penny.


    With the weapons gathered, Jax appraised his suit. The thing was nearly destroyed, the only thing that had a bit of integrity left was his left leg piece. Huge patches had rusted as the deadly magics battered the metal. Plastic joints were stiff and cracked with each moment. Bug guts and other¡­fluids stained the paint. Not to mention the awful smell as rotting blood clung to the cool metal. He¡¯d have to scrap it, nobody would buy this junk now. He paused, this suit did protect him from death¡­maybe he¡¯d keep the helmet as a little trophy.


    He didn¡¯t even want to check the tattoos. He knew that they were all but gone. That last curse burned through what little protection they gave. That debt kept growing and he felt a bit sick. He could only hope that the bounty and spoils would cover it all. He¡¯d be happy to just break even at this point. At least then he could give it another go¡­and properly this time.


    Looking back, so much went wrong. He was too merciful at the start. Why did he let those villages live? Next time he¡¯d poison the well or ambush the mayor.


    ¡°No what are you thinking¡± Jax muttered


    He knew that slayers had required a certain¡­mindset. But he didn¡¯t want to turn into one of those sociopaths. Still, he couldn¡¯t rule out the options. In the end, his home world needed dead gods. It was either their lives or his. But outside of the drastic actions. He could have done more research. Give it another year of gathering intelligence instead of assaulting the first blood moon. Maybe instead of being an outsider, try integrating with the cult.


    ¡°Yuck,¡± he said aloud. Even if it was a lie, he never wanted to join cults. That just didn¡¯t sit well.


    Finishing his appraisal. Jax turned towards the cult. It wasn¡¯t enough to kill gods, he needed their essence. Bending down, he grabbed the gnarled staff. It felt like his dagger, only far more powerful. His arm froze as black smoke twisted up the sides of his arm. As long as he didn¡¯t do something stupid it was relatively safe. The lingering magics unfocused without somebody directing it. Closing his eyes, he brushed the outer layers of the artifact. He didn¡¯t have many points in appraisal or knowledge. Instead, most slayers left that stuff to their partners. Damn! He might need to get a partner¡­just another thing to pay for. Still, it didn¡¯t seem to be that strong and he decided to give it a go.


    Twisting his body, he swung the staff in a wide arc. Similar to the fight before, a roiling cloud of smoky filth rushed forward. It went about three feet before dissipating. Feeling out the magic again, he noticed a significant drop in power. While it was a strong effect, he might get one or two uses out of it. Later, if he added a few more stats in will and intelligence, he could supplement it with his own. But that¡¯d take a lot of investment. But a prize was a prize. He carefully laid it on the altar and went back to the dead god.


    This was where the true bounty lies. Sure he¡¯d get an abysmal pay from killing the target, but that was nothing compared to a god¡¯s essence. Pulling out his non-runic dagger, he carved into the now-mortal god and searched around. He had to scoop out the guts of the dead man, placing to the side for the swarms to feast on.


    ¡°Come on where is it!¡± He was getting frustrated.


    He slammed the hilt down to shatter the sternum then pulled back the ribs. Sticking his hand under the heart, he felt around for the source.


    ¡°Got it!¡± he felt that cold chill as his fingers grazed the object.


    With a tug, he pulled out an onyx-colored marble. Holding it to the light, he could see the swirling magics within. How many humans died to create this? How much essence was stored in this fragile thing? Holding it between his palms, he focused on the god¡¯s core. For a brief moment, he could hear the terrible curses once more. If no worshippers remained, this core would slowly burn out and the last bits of Chothos would fade. However, if some still made offerings then this seed could lead to his rebirth. A cruel smile crossed the slayer¡¯s lips, he couldn¡¯t wait to see what they¡¯d do with it.


    Jax returned to the altar and gathered all his supplies in one spot. Doing a final check, he made sure everything was in order. Once gone, there would be no returning. Satisfied, he navigated the computer menus to request a transport home. He was a low-priority hunter and it took nearly an hour for the response. An arrow appeared in the corner of his helm, showing him the way to the closest crack.


    Sure, emergency portals could rescue any slayer in need. But they were extremely expensive and required a lot of power to operate. Instead, most traveled using distortions in space. Regions where the barriers between realms were weak. Poking a hole through these spots was far cheaper than opening a tear. As he approached, there was a faint flicker in the air. Dust moving in odd ways and light bending slightly. He sent the message that he¡¯d arrived. A few seconds passed and the smell of ozone filled the air. Slowly, visible cracks appeared. Bits of light leaked through as the two realms met. As the cracks grew in size, a terrible buzz filled his ear. His eyes hurt as they tried to process what was going on. Then it stopped, a dark void surrounded by forks of energy. Wispy bits of plasma leaked out like grasping fingers.  While he couldn¡¯t see the destination, it was quite safe. Double-checking that all his loot was properly secured, he stepped through the darkness. The portal snapped shut, leaving the massacre behind. He was finally home.

 1.8 Home at Last

    Slowly, visible cracks appeared. Bits of light leaked through as the two realms met. As the cracks grew in size, a terrible buzz filled his ear. His eyes hurt as they tried to process what was going on. Then it stopped, a dark void surrounded by forks of energy. Wispy bits of plasma leaked out like grasping fingers. While he couldn¡¯t see the destination, it was quite safe. Double-checking that all his loot was properly secured, he stepped through the darkness. The portal snapped shut, leaving the massacre behind. He was finally home.


    ¡ª---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    The teleport wasn¡¯t anything crazy. A moment of unconsciousness and then a rush of life. Time was¡­weird between bounties. What was months in that village was only about two weeks back home. It took a few seconds for the senses to return but he was home. The portals were remnants of an older time. This particular one was barely functioning. All that remained were two chipped granite columns and a broken arch. Even approaching was a bit dangerous, a thin set of stairs hovering over a cliffside. The waves crashed down below as the floating platform lingered in the air. None dared to build around it in fear of disrupting the magic.


    He carefully stepped down the slick steps and onto the grassy field. Turning back, he got one last good glimpse of the setting sun. Billowing clouds filled the colorful sky. Each one reflects the various yellows and oranges. That salty air ruffled his hair as he took a deep breath. It was rare to leave the city. For most all they could do was work and sleep. Life was hard, but at least they were free.


    He could only savor a few moments before the alarms started buzzing. Turning back, he faced the looming walls of the city. It stretched on beyond his sight, a harsh line cutting into the beauty of the world. They were nearly impenetrable to all, hurricanes dissipated, earthquakes routed away, all within protected from external disasters.


    Jax walked past the gates and into the decontamination chamber. Various drones appeared and assisted in the removal of armor. One by one, all forms of clothing were stripped from him leaving him naked, cold, and exposed. Lifting his arms, various hoses sprayed him down. It was a three-stage cleaning process. Each one is designed to remove any foreign matter. With so many realms to explore, they didn¡¯t want somebody to bring back a crazy supervirus.


    A thin towel appeared and he began to dry off. With such a low-value bounty, he was given the bare minimum. No luxurious baths or complimentary food. Just a pressure wash and used rag to dry. Grabbing his armor tag, he took a glance at the return date.


    ¡°Two days are you kidding me!¡± He groaned.


    Still, it was a complimentary cleaning. Might as well take what he could get, at least he didn¡¯t smell like fermenting socks anymore. Drying off his hair, he wrapped the towel around the waist and glanced into the mirror. Everything was¡­rough. Huge bruises covered his skin, each one throbbing with a bit of pain. His left eye was nearly swollen shut and a few minor fractures appeared in his ribs. As long as he avoided deep breaths, he didn¡¯t feel it. Hopefully, the healing wasn¡¯t too expensive.


    With the physical cleaning down, he stepped into the mental evaluation office. Sitting in the wooden chair, the ceiling parted and a metal rod lowered. Attached to the end was a single eye, the nerves wrapping around the metal. Its pupil dilated as the device rotated around his body. Jax felt a presence brush against his soul, a slight touch as it scoured his brain for external influence. Deeming him untainted, it retreated.


    Leaving the decontamination chambers, he entered the locker room. The attendant was on standby and handed off a fresh set of clothes. It wasn¡¯t anything special, just boxers, shirt, shorts, and sneakers. Nothing name-brand and quite itchy to wear. Still, this was the first set of new clothes he¡¯d had in a long while. Most of what he got was from the local thrift stores or trades. Quickly changing, the man continued to glare.


    ¡°Sorry man, the first time I don¡¯t have any money yet¡± Jax replied. The man scoffed and left.


    It wasn¡¯t required, but tipping the workers was highly encouraged. Jax made a mental note to give him some coin later¨Cif he did come out on top. With a new set of clothes and a fresh smelling body, he was ready to return to society. He took the elevator down to the tram and hopped on. It was an underground tunnel that looped around the various portal sites. His was the last stop and it took nearly an hour to return to the slayer¡¯s hub. Jax kept to himself and avoided eye contact with others. He was still new and didn¡¯t want to piss anyone off. At one point he ended up offering his seat to another. Even at the final stop, he waited for everyone to leave before stepping off. This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.


    Jax paused as he stood at the exit. All he had to do was sign off on the kill and he¡¯d join the slayer ranks. A warm sense of pride bubbled up from within, he did it. He had killed a god. This was the first step into a new future. Pushing on the door, he entered the slayer hub.


    The circular room was divided up like a pizza. Each section represents a different level of slayers. He had started at the lowest of low¨CTier 1. After that, there was Tier O, Tier Gold, Tier I, Tier ¦Á, Tier A, and the specials. It was a stupidly named system, everyone knew who was at the top. However, the government constantly pushed the idea that all hunts were equal no matter the difficulty. It was bullshit, their society ran on the corpses of gods. Sure every bit was used, but their power levels were drastically different.


    Walking through the main antechamber, Jax passed into the tier 1 section. It was barren. No snacks, no couches, and nobody to greet them. Only a few wooden chairs, the service desk, and the bounty board. The guy running the place was young and got the job through some nepotism. He was kicking back, feet up on the desk, and playing games on his phone. And honestly, what else should he be doing? This tier was something people avoided, only the truly destitute started here. The richer ones could buy enough equipment to start higher. Just power through without any worry. Unfortunately, Jax did not have that luxury.


    Crossing to the desk, Jax looked down at the slacker.


    ¡°Hey, can you¡­¡± He interrupted


    ¡°Hold up, nearly done at this level¡± The worker responded.


    It was an awkward few moments as Jax patiently waited. He didn¡¯t want to piss the guy off, they knew future hits. While they were not supposed to play favorites, sometimes they¡¯d ¡°forget¡± certain information. He never really got it, anytime a slayer succeeded. Their workers would get a small bonus for their troubles. It encouraged them to do a bit of research and help out. But at this tier combined with this kid¡¯s rich family, it probably wasn¡¯t worth it.


    He closed the game and glanced up. A look of shock crossed his face.


    ¡°Oh wow, you made it. Honestly, kind of surprised, when I saw you leave with nothing but two daggers and a suit; I thought you¡¯d be dead in a week. Hell even bet some credits on ya not coming back.¡± Before Jax could respond, the man shifted back to the computer and started typing away.


    ¡°Name,¡± He asked


    ¡°Uhh, Jax Smith¡± Jax respond


    ¡°Jax Smith, what the hell man. If you are going to be a slayer you need a lot better name than that. It¡¯s gotta be like Jaximus the Great, The Jaxinator, Jax be nimble Jax be quick, something else thing bloody Smith. ¡± He had no filter.


    ¡°Look, they asked for a last name and I didn¡¯t want to just give mine up for the world to see!¡± Jax was on the defensive. He didn¡¯t want those in his neighborhood to find out about his new work. If he succeeded then he¡¯d likely be robbed for the funds. And if he failed¡­he¡¯d get robbed before it passed to his family.


    ¡°Sure man, ahh Jax Smith assigned to a miniscule death god. A footnote of a god it looks like. Damn, you took on something this pathetic and lost an arm. Are you sure you want to be in this business? You know my dad¡¯s looking for a few new cleaners. I could put in a good word for you.


    ¡°LOOK!¡± Jax raised his voice but only got a shit-eating grin out of the man. He was enjoying this. Taking a moment, Jax collected himself.


    ¡°Look, man. I am sure your dad is¡­wonderful. But I got a family to feed¡± he lied.


    ¡°Can I just get my credits and move on? Could really use a warm bath tonight.¡± He continued.


    ¡°Sure sure, no need to rush. Let¡¯s see here. Base credits are¡­10,000. Take out the brokerage fee, portal fee, transportation fee, advertising fee, washing fee¡­¡±


    ¡°What, I thought the wash was complimentary on successful kills?¡±


    ¡°The Washroom is complimentary, you still need to pay for the supplies¡± he snapped back.


    ¡°Merchant split, and convenience fee¡­that¡¯ll give you a net total of 3,400 credits. Would you like me to apply it directly to your account?¡± The man looked up with that stupid smile once again.


    Jax wanted to fight it, but it just wasn¡¯t worth it. He knew a lot of these fees were¡­adjustable. But this wasn¡¯t the time to battle. 3,400 was a huge chunk of money, that was nearly 6 months'' worth of work. He still had to sell off the remains. Still, it only was a small dent in the 10,000 he used to prepare. Hopefully, the materials brought back would put him in the green. If not, he didn¡¯t want to come crawling back and begging for this¡­cleaner position. But better to lose the ego than starve in the streets.


    This time he did tip the worker.


    ¡°Hope that covers the lost bet¡± he commented and left.


    His next stop was the Stats Station. Time to see if he had gotten any stronger.

 1.9 Leveling Up

    His next stop was the Status Station. Time to see if he had gotten any stronger.


    ¡ª----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    There were rows of these scanners lining the edge of the room. It was a busy section as people upgraded their gear and modified their bodies. Thankfully, he only had to wait about five minutes before the next one opened. Swiping his I.D., Jax stepped inside and lay within the pod. The top closed, and the device started to hum. The first step was a full body scan followed by various blood draws. It only took about thirty seconds before the stats appeared on the screen.


    Strength: 12


    Intelligence: 8


    Constitution: 10


    Agility: 11


    Will: 10


    Charisma: 7


    These six numbers were what made a person. Sure, there were a variety of sub-stats. Things like perception were a combination of agility, intelligence, and constitution. But these base stats were the foundation of all slayers. Strength was the focus of physical power, larger muscles, and thicker bones. Intelligence was more booksmart, solving equations, and quickly gleaning important information. Constitution was the overall health, how fast wounds healed, and endurance. Agility was reaction speed, flexibility, and overall body awareness. Will focused on the non-intelligence parts of the brain. The ability to resist divine effects, street smarts, and power through the worst times. Lastly, charisma was good for persuading, investigating, and general likeability.


    Overall, the stats were not¡­bad. His Strength was above average for an everyday mortal, while his charisma and intelligence were a bit trash. It didn¡¯t help that he had to quit school early to help with the family bills. Still, all that labor had built up his muscles.


    What he was hoping for was a godly infusion. The fickle nature of the divine let it leach into the surrounding regions. It changed what it touched, building up within mortal flesh and altering it. While this device couldn¡¯t extract the essence, it could modify its effects. If left to grow, it ended in bulbous growths or the creation of mindless constructs. But now, Slayers could channel it into upgrades and various powers. While not as powerful as better gear, each addition was a permanent upgrade. Over time, these little boosts led to some mighty and long-living beings.


    Swiping over to the essence menu, he was thrilled to see a few available options. Each one was dependent on where and how the essence landed. What he did fighting the gods would directly affect the possible upgrades. Jax took a moment to read through his options.


    Drug Addict: +1 Constitution - Wow, you abused sanctioned chemicals. You might as well get some good out of the bad. Future overdoses have reduced effects but significantly reduced side effects - Precursor to unstable stimulants and other dangerous enhancements. If you come across this story on Amazon, it''s taken without permission from the author. Report it.


    That wasn¡¯t great. Sure, it helped reduce the side effects, but lowering their effectiveness was a considerable drawback. The constitution buff was a nice bonus.


    Miniscule Death Resistance: You saw death and conquered it¡­or a tiny portion. Grants a tiny resiliency to instant death attacks - A precursor to high resistance tiers.


    That one was ok. Passive abilities were always extraordinary to get, no matter how minor their effects. Still, he wished some would have boosted his base stats.


    No Pain No Gain: +1 Strength - Taking on so much damage and still powering through is impressive. When you take a savage hit, you gain a minor boost in strength - A precursor to rage and other reckless skills.


    This was a really nice passive skill, but a savage hit meant he had to take a near-fatal blow for it to activate. It would be good as a last-ditch attack, but he¡¯d prefer not to be the one taking damage.


    Deflecting Palm: +1 Will - What¡¯s cooler than outplaying a god? Burn up a tattoo¡¯s energy to activate this skill. Redirect the target of a divine-empowered effect. Note that this directly scales based on the nature of the attack and its power. Don¡¯t try this on an outer god; you¡¯ll still get squashed like the bug you are - Precursor to Defensive and Retaliatory effects.


    Now, this was something. Being able to reflect on an attack was very powerful. However, that drawback was terrible. Tattoos were not cheap, and he could only afford them in a limited amount. If he used it at the wrong time, he¡¯d be dead. He was only standing because of that last layer of divine armor. Still, he could always use a bit more Will.


    Lightfoot: It¡¯s just hardcore Parkour. This one has no drawbacks but not much to gain. For the next five minutes gain increased balance and greater flexibility. Precursor to self-buff and dexterity-based skills


    Damn, that one is boring. It could lead to many better stats and skills, but it wasn¡¯t a good option overall.


    Heavy Strike: +1 Strength - I bet you liked that bone crunch, didn¡¯t you? Well, here is your chance to experience it again. Temporarily boost strength stats by 10% for one attack. Better make it count cause for the next five minutes, you lose 20% of strength. - Precursor to exhaustion-based skills.


    That was a really good skill to pick. The bonus strength was a massive buff and could be used as a finishing blow. 10% could be an enormous boost as he gained more skills and equipment. He¡¯d have to be careful, as that debuff was nasty.


    Overall, the device said he could take two. There was no saving essence; keeping it pent up would lead to nasty side effects. Heavy strike was the first option; nothing would change that. He decided to go with the deflecting palm as well. Hopefully, he could deflect and attack, then move in for the kill. Still, both were single-use in a fight, and he¡¯d have to plan accordingly.


    ¡°FUCK¡± He cried out as he selected his options.


    The device didn¡¯t care about pain; hundreds of needles penetrated the skin as chemicals were pumped into the blood. Various scalpels sliced open the flesh, and metal rods shifted the sinew within. His muscles tensed up, and he buckled against the restraints. He could feel microfilament wires working their way through his internals. Each one poking and prodding at the gathering pockets of divine essence. With delicate finesse, the device wove the lingering magic throughout. Tiny streams of power reinforced the muscles. His brain went hazy as one entered through his skull. No doubt this would let him control that new skill, but he felt violated. Every few moments, he felt an intense burst of pain followed by the smell of cauterized flesh. He could have paid for anesthesia and painkillers, but with the lack of funds, he couldn¡¯t afford it. Instead, he bit his lip and endured the surgery.


    Congratulations on your upgrades. We wish you a safe return.


    A cheerful little tune played as the device retreated. The straps disengaged, and Jax was free. He hobbled up, the lingering pain slowing his movement. But seeing his stats go up made it all worth it. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and left the room. He needed something to eat and to stop by the healers. But, there was still one spot to visit: The Appraisers.

 1.10 Dealing with the Appraiser

    A cheerful little tune played as the device retreated. The straps disengaged, and Jax was free. He hobbled up, the lingering pain slowing his movement. But seeing his stats go up made it all worth it. He wiped the cold sweat from his brow and left the room. He needed something to eat and to stop by the healers. But, there was still one spot to visit: The Appraisers.


    ¡ª--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    Jax held his loot ticket and entered the appraisal office. It wasn¡¯t so much an office as it was a testing facility. The giant warehouse contained dozens of rooms. Some are made of see-through glass, while others are covered in reinforced concrete. Walking to the glass enclosure, he saw one of the instructors holding a wooden pan flute. His lips pursed, and a sharp note pierced the enclosure. The air rippled outwards and slammed into a group of dummies at the end. The wave of magic smashed into the crowd, causing each to explode in a shower of blood. Crackles of runework appeared on the glass as the red liquid coated the entire back half. Even the tester was a bit shocked at the power. He casually wiped off the fake blood and made notes on his clipboard. Whatever it was, it was pretty powerful.


    Jax took a long detour to the main desk. Stopping by a few different rooms and seeing their effects. He saw a group of dolls that worked together to create a lush field. A pistol that changed the color of what it shot,  a sword that drained the life of anything nearby, and a twig that just wiggled a bit. All loot was extensively tested under various conditions and given a numerical value. It was here that slayers made a fortune. The bounties are a pittance compared to the loot sold.  After a few more rooms, he got to his own assigned location. He wanted to watch, but the entire thing was covered in smoke¡­clearly, the tester wasn¡¯t having a good time.


    His ticket glowed, and a heavy hum filled the air. The ground rumbled as the ventilation activated. That thick, cloying smog was rapidly sucked into the ground revealing the demon within. Jax smiled; luck was on his side today. That blue-skinned devil stumbled out of the room, coughing up the remnants of magic.


    ¡°Dammit, Jax, where the hell did you get this thing?¡± Eroth said.


    He was a low-tier demon from the pleasure realm. He was a skinny man who wore cut-off jeans and a crop top. His hair was thick, luscious, and blacker than the abyss. His eyes shifted between colors every few seconds as the barbed tail whipped behind before his¡­employment. The incubus was stealing souls for Veroth. While many of the god¡¯s creations died with him, a few could make deals to continue. They were pretty valuable, innately attuned to the universe''s magic, and excellent at figuring out looted weapons. It would take more than that puff of death magic to harm him.


    However, to continue to exist, he needed a constant energy source. It was a mutual deal for the city. He¡¯d become a tester and get an unlimited supply of magic. Additionally, he could still siphon essence from others who willingly exchanged it. Still, being an incubus, some of his mannerisms stuck.


    ¡°Eroth, get your tail away.¡± Jax kicked the snaking thing. The chilly appendage trying to wrap around his leg.


    ¡°Oh, don¡¯t be such a brat. I can¡¯t help you are such a cutie.¡±


    Jax sighed. The two were friends; both lived in the same district. But all he cared about was sex. He knew not to read into it; he was a demon of lust. He knew Eroth wouldn¡¯t ever try anything, but the constant advances got old.


    ¡°Ahhh, come on, big guy. I only need one arm to play with my joystick,¡± Eroth said, pointing at the stub.


    ¡°OOOOOKAAAY, WE ARE DONE.¡± Jax was about to hit the devil.


    ¡°I¡¯m just joking; still, you did get quite a weapon.¡± He went over and picked up the staff.


    ¡°Honestly, pretty high-powered death magic. I was surprised that such a low-tier god was capable of producing it. He must have spent a lot of energy on it. Still, the drawbacks are pretty heavy. The Will threshold is around 20+; even if you reach that, you¡¯d only get one fire. Not sure if it is worth it for most. Might be best to extract and transform into an enchantment.¡±This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    ¡°Yeah, yeah, I don¡¯t intend to keep it anyway. What do you think it¡¯s worth?¡±


    ¡°Oh Jax, why do you need to smash through the foreplay? Don¡¯t you want to know its delectable secrets?¡±


    ¡°EROTH!¡± A booming voice echoed through the hall.


    The demon pouted as Ruman appeared. Unlike Eroth, he was an angel of temperance. The man had chrome-like skin, a perfectly tailored suit, and rings of light on each limb. His eyes flickered with white flames and oozed authority. Unfortunately, that same presence also killed any fun. He was strictly business and constantly cock-blocked the demon. To make matters worse, the city had assigned the two the same apartment. No doubt it was a cruel joke to punish them both.


    It was because of that the three became friends. His apartment turned into a refuge for the two. Eroth crashing on his couch¡­usually with his latest match. At the same time, Ruman demanded the bed; something about how his perfectly pure form couldn¡¯t stand the remnants of the demon. At first, Jax complained, but the angel made some crazy baked goods. Having some heavenly cookies was worth a lousy night''s rest when the regular dinner was lumpy soup.


    ¡°High Jax,¡± he said, crossing his arms.


    ¡°Why do you have to be such a buzzkill? I was just teasing.¡± Eroth said


    ¡°You can tease on your own time. You still have three more pieces of equipment to test today.¡±


    ¡°FIIIIIINE,¡± Eroth pouted.


    ¡°Well Jax, I¡¯d say this is worth 25,000 credits--pending fees of course.¡±


    He couldn¡¯t be serious. Twenty-five thousand credits were beyond his imagination. He¡¯d spent so many years saving and barely put together 10,000 credits. He could breeze through a Tier 1 target between that and his new stats. It was almost too much money. He¡¯d be a target in the districts. Dammit, he didn¡¯t think this through. He couldn¡¯t upgrade to a better apartment with that much money. He was starting to get overwhelmed¡­but then it just stopped.


    ¡°Delightful,¡± Eroth said. The demon siphoned some of the excess.


    That was technically against the rules, and Jax could have called it out. But instead, the two made eye contact.


    ¡°Eroth, I know we are friends. But don¡¯t ever fucking do that again.¡± He then turned


    ¡°And that includes you Ruman! I swear you two are going to get banished.¡± The angel held up his hands like he was innocent. Just because he was canonical good didn¡¯t mean he could be an ass. Still, it was a reminder of what the gods could do. Would they still be friendly if not bound by their contracts? Shaking it off, he asked about the soul-gem.


    ¡°Oh, that piddly thing. It¡¯s barely 1,000 credits. It¡¯d be worth more, but I¡¯ve never seen such a stubborn god with so little power. I could smite his ass with a flick, but he kept going on about how he¡¯d return and murder us all.¡±


    ¡°Damn, any recommendations?¡± Jax asked.


    ¡°Since he is attuned to you, I¡¯d say pay to have him tattooed or used to enchant armor. He does have a bit of a kick, but I doubt it¡¯d work for much else.¡±


    ¡°Thanks, do you know any good ones? I bought the cheapest one last time, and they burned out quickly.¡±


    ¡°Oh, I got just the guy. We used to hook up a ton. I¡¯ll get you an invite, he¡¯ll come to you, don¡¯t worry,¡± Eroth said


    ¡°Perfect. I think I¡¯m ready to sell.¡± With that, Ruman pulled out his tablet and typed in a few things.


    ¡°With all fees, you are walking with 22,000 credits. Straight to your account?¡± He asked.


    ¡°Yup,¡± Jax replied


    ¡°Great, just sign here. Here. Here. Here. And just need a bit of blood to seal it.¡± With a prick of the finger, the exchange was done.


    ¡°That''s for the hit. By the way, today¡¯s been a bitch¡± Ruman winked as he closed the tablet.


    As before, the fees were adjustable based on how much they liked you. As long as the city got its baseline, the rest was up to the various offices. It was worth giving up a bit of essence to waive a few fees. Besides, he knew the two couldn¡¯t help themselves. Still, they did their best to pay back what they took. Either Eroth was trying to play the wingman down at the pub, or Ruman using his magic to clean up the apartment. At least with these two, they relied more on emotion than raw life essence. It just mellows him out over stealing some of his lifespan.


    ¡°Looks like drinks are on Jax tonight,¡± Eroth said.


    ¡°I agree,¡± Ruman replied


    ¡°Fuck off¡± Jax said and left. He¡¯d flick them both off but only had one arm.


    ¡°I think you should get that fixed,¡± Eroth always had to get in the last word.

 1.11 A day in the City

    ¡°I think you should get that fixed¡± Eroth always had to get in the last word.


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    But it was true. He did need to get his arm fixed. But the healers were about a 15-minute walk from the slayer center. Thankfully, it was the middle of summer, and basic clothes would do. He might get some looks, but it was best to repair his arm now. The longer it festered, the harder it was to cure.


    Leaving the center, he was greeted with the bustling cityscape. This particular section was on the better side of town. Various trams rolled along tracks, their energy coming from green-lit tubes above. Each of those pipes carried the lifeblood of the city. Liquified divine essence powering a variety of contraptions. The trams ran universal engines and didn¡¯t care what type of fuel was used. For now, green means it blended nature and life deities. The offal leaving the exhaust smelled like the forest. An occasional petal or other bits of plant matter fall out of the pipes. Nature gods were usually the first to form and were easy to capture. The bulk were more pacifist than outright killers. Additionally, it kept the region smelling fresh and clean. Its lingering magic keeps the flowerbeds and other greenery alive.


    It just made Jax want to move so badly. Back home, they had to use the cheap stuff. Tubes of sickly yellow or congealed black were pumped into their district. The yellow came from those aligned with pestilence, while black was from death gods. The fumes were not outright harmful, but you didn''t want to be sucking them down, either. The oily residue clung to the walls, giving it a dirtied appearance. Not to mention the pungent stench that lingered in the air, it wasn¡¯t uncommon to see folks walking around in masks, doing whatever they could to avoid the lingering clouds of muck.


    As he walked along the sidewalk, he glanced up at the sky. Unlike the previous realm, it was impossible to see the sun at night. So much essence was used up that a translucent smog enveloped the metropolis. It was a perpetual smog that clung to the sides of buildings. Only the richest could afford to live above the cloudline. Waking up each morning to see that beautiful sunrise. The rest of the scum forced to live in the shadows of their towering structures.


    But it was still the best they had. Before the last god was slain, War was common, Diseases ran rampant, and life was in a constant state of struggle. The school had taught them all that gods were fickle and greedy creatures. Sending off their followers to die in their honor and setting off major plagues when not adequately worshiped. Others are just absolute brats who created famines for fun. Some only used their powers to slip into the pants of mortals, tricking them into sex. Not to mention, their champions rarely had the proper ideals to lead a country. Gods would collude to overthrow others, only for that coalition to devolve into petty infighting. It was a nasty cycle that mortals had to bear the brunt of.


    After slaying that death god, he found the texts to be valid. For all the suffering living in the city''s slums, at least he was free, and at least he could forge his path. If he wanted to help a divine offshoot, he could, but it was never required. Those various entities were constantly monitored. If they ever got too strong, they were executed on the spot. The world was done with deities, and no fledgling gods were kept out.


    Crossing the street, he noticed a new set of bulletins were set up. Fancy lights caught the eyes as the slayer mascot held out a can of tomatoes.


    ¡°Nothing beats a god like a full stomach!¡± It said on the billboard.


    They must have paid a ton of money to get Iris up there. She was a high-tier slayer that dominated any room she entered. Jax had caught a glimpse of her at one point. Her hair defied gravity as it floated behind her. A feeling of static crept across the skin in her presence. She was usually called in for the heaviest of targets. An absolute monster when it came to wiping out the divine. A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.


    She even carried cameras on her power suit, recording her various fights and quests for all to see. Sure, they were highly edited to keep them exciting¡­, but nobody wanted to watch the stakeout sessions, which was a good way to boost her numbers.


    He kept walking and heard another ad on the radio. It was another slayer clearly reading off a script of some kind. Not a single bit of emotion carried through his voice.


    ¡°Tired of paying for fluff you don¡¯t need. Well, stop in for some savings at Clothes for Less. No brands, Just Clothes  ¡ª Sponsored by Just Greg¡±


    Of course, it was fucking Greg. That man had the luckiest kill in decades. He was only on a Tier A mission and fought a false god. That stupid thing had stumbled upon an ancient power source from an extinct alien race. He never even opened up the device or spent any time trying to figure out how it worked. Instead, he gave his body a basic form of immortality and some muscle. Unable to be killed, he slowly conquered the surrounding regions and became a god king. Thankfully, even the most basic power armor could smash through the reinforced muscle. Greg didn¡¯t kill him outright. Instead, it just broke every bone in the man¡¯s body.


    Upon returning with the source, they realized just how powerful it was. It now sat in the high districts, powering up their various holograms and other recreational activities. He didn¡¯t know how it worked, but it didn¡¯t matter. The city came in to buy the device, and Greg was awarded handsomely. The good thing was he wasn¡¯t an ass about it. Like Jax, he was just trying to move up in the world, and he did.


    With all those credits, he could buy top-of-the-line equipment and join the best squads in town. Realizing his foolish luck, he called himself Just Greg. A way to show that he didn¡¯t really have an ego like the rest. He always encouraged those he met to call him Greg. To keep that image, he appeared in public with his weapons. He was just a man in a t-shirt (Sponsored by Clothes for Less).


    Ignoring the rest of the ads, Jax continued on his way. This particular section catered to the various slayers. Weapon shops had pieces of god-gear on display¨Ctheir prices conveniently missing. Some were surgeons who specialized in adjusting divine aesthetics. They could remove unwanted characteristics without touching the benefits for a substantial fee. Jax knew of some water-breathing upgrades that typically added gills. But honestly, who wanted gills? Other powers could ignite the eyes, while cool tended to scare those nearby. Of course, they also made basic adjustments. Nose jobs, shin jobs, and every other type imaginable.


    But that wasn¡¯t what Jax needed. He was looking for a true healer. Somebody who could fix his missing arm. They were pretty rare and very powerful. Most were former slayers, specifically targeting light, nature, and other recovery-type deities. Even with them seemingly benevolent, they could be quite a force when enraged. Hell, Iris had battled a God of Life and Death at one point. One of her squadmates had their protections broken, and with the gentlest touch, the unthinkable happened.


    A rapid rise of tumors and other growth rippled through their body. His power armor bent and snapped as the bulbous flesh grew within. Tendrils of twisted skin erupted from the cracks and swung at his former teammates. Each one forms a different weapon. The first was a club-like appendage and covered jagged teeth. The second had a sharp, bony tip that quickly skewered through defenses. The last was a tube-like thing that sprayed bile and other unsavory fluids on the combatants.


    But he didn¡¯t die. He cried out in pain as his form continued to morph. His head pulled back, the undulating flesh pushing it upwards onto a gorey spike. Higher and higher, it rose as various eyestalks appeared on the base column. He kept begging his teammates to kill him, but their weapons did little good. Each cut only led to more growth. Only when Iris stepped in and ignited the man with her power did his suffering end.


    It was a brutal battle as the thing never killed. Instead, it just warped the squad into agony-filled flesh beasts. By the end of the fight, only Iris and two others remained. They brought back the surviving members, but nothing was to be done. The city humanely ended their suffering before immortalizing their sacrifice at the slayer center.


    But those who could stomach the horror of life gods were granted potent powers. Those same skills to distort flesh could be used to repair. It wasn¡¯t cheap, but it would be necessary if he wanted to continue. After a few more minutes of walking, he finally saw one of the local healer stalls.


    ¡°Helio¡¯s Holistic Healrium¡±


    ¡°What kind of name is that?¡± Jax muttered


    But it looked cheap, and that was that. Stepping inside, he could only hope that Helio could help him.

 1.12 - Helio The Healer

    But it looked cheap and that was that. Stepping inside, he could only hope that Helio could help him.


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    Jax stood at the door and took a deep breath. He could already feel his bank emptying just looking at it. Still, there was nothing he could do about it. It would be nigh impossible to get a decent job with one arm. Most would demand a prosthetic and deduct the price from his pay. Jax pushed the thoughts to the side; there was no need to get worked up now. A quote doesn¡¯t hurt, and he can decide later. Turning the knob, he pushed open the door and was blasted with a spray.


    ¡°What the¡­¡± Jax coughed up.


    It was an acrid, eye-watering stench that burned his nose. Even a few breaths in, the pungent smell was starting to give him a headache. He needed his respirator right now because it was making him lightheaded. Holding his shirt to his nose, he tried to filter out the fumes, but it didn¡¯t work. As the substance evaporated, the horrid smell dissipated. Whatever it was, he didn¡¯t like it. With a free and clear mind, he continued towards the receptionist.


    ¡°Hello, is uhh Helios in?¡± He asked nicely.


    The receptionist didn¡¯t even bother to glance at him. Instead, she continued to type away at her computer, the mechanical keyboard clicking extra loud with each press. It was an annoying noise that filled the space. What was with all these desk workers? He just wanted some help, and they were so hostile.


    ¡°Mam¡­?¡±


    ¡°I heard you, don¡¯t need to ask twice.¡± She replied and didn¡¯t even move.


    Once again, Jax stood awkwardly at the desk. Trying to keep his composure as the loud clanking keyboard pounded his ears.


    ¡°Rachel? Did somebody enter? I thought I heard the¡­Oh HI!¡± A man walked out of the back room and instantly smiled.


    He was a short¡­very short¡ªman with a mighty presence. His lineage included some gnome blood. His hair was brown and somewhat messy. His body was lanky, and his face was quite stern-looking. His gait was short and fast-paced as he rushed towards Jax. The man barely reached past his abs, but this still made the slayer step back.


    ¡°Sorry, Dad, Didn¡¯t want to bug you. He looked like another freeloader,¡± She said with a gaze that could slay giants.


    ¡°Rachel, I¡¯m glad you play bouncer, but a customer is a customer. Let me judge their accounts,¡± he said with a smile.


    ¡°Now come, come¡± The smaller man grabbed Jax by the shirt and pulled.


    He was pretty strong for his size and pulled him over. The man didn¡¯t even look back as he drugged Jax to the back offices. The slayer bent awkwardly as he followed the shorter man.


    ¡°Helios is the name and healing is the game. But I¡¯m sure you figured that one out.¡± Helios said as he entered the room.


    ¡°OK, Let¡¯s see the damage.¡± He snapped, and instantly, Jax was fully nude. His clothes disappeared without a trace.


    ¡°Hey! What the¡­¡± Helios pushed him onto the table.


    ¡°Stop whining; time is money.¡± His eyes started to glow, and his fingers became translucent.


    ¡°I don¡¯t con¡­OH, THAT¡¯S COLD¡±. Jax was starting to panic as the healer shoved his hands through his skin. It was a strange sensation as he could feel the fingers twitching within, but there was no pain.


    ¡°If you can¡¯t keep quiet, I¡¯ll snip those vocal chords of yas. You came for help; now sit and let me work.¡±


    Jax didn¡¯t argue. Helios was already knuckle deep in his guts, and pissing the healer off wouldn¡¯t end well.


    ¡°Hmmm¡­.You got the shit beat out of ya. Literally, I can see some Diverticulitis, fractures galore, and what is this¡­minor sepsis.¡± He pulled his hands out, and the color shifted.


    ¡°You know, I swear you newbies are so reliant on technology and magic that you forget the basics. Where are your tattoos? Where are you scouts? Did you just rush headfirst into this death god? I swear.¡± He continued ranting about the new wave of slayers and how they ruined such a good profession. This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.


    Jax could feel the magic seeping into his body. The various aches and pains dulling as the deft fingers reconstructed his innards. At one point, he could feel a tug, and Helios took out a chunk of slime.


    ¡°Just gathered rot,¡± he said, tossed the mass of bacteria and flesh into a container, and continued.


    ¡°They are doing commercials now! Fucking commercials, like they don¡¯t get paid enough tax dollars already. You are lucky I keep my services cheap. I¡¯m in it for the¡­Oh, hang on¡± he pulled his hands out as his eyes started to fade.


    ¡°I need to recharge. Give me a moment¡­RACHEL MORE JUICE!¡± He called out.


    He went to the sink and washed his hands. As he dried his hands, Rachel opened the door and wheeled in a glass cooler filled with a pulsating green liquid. It had a little tap to siphon the material and various tubes connecting to a floating head. As he walked over to the device, the head shifted and a look of horror appeared on the woman¡¯s face.


    ¡°Helios, please! No more! I have nothing left to give¡­you¡¯ve taken it all,¡± she cried out.


    He ignored the trickery and turned back to Jax.


    ¡°See, this is how you make it. It''s one of many so-called life gods I have stored up. Healing magic is best when fresh; it took me years to get the modifications to preserve them. City demands 9 out of every 10 I capture. Those rich pricks are wasting their energy on bigger tits and longer schlongs. Still, I keep the best for myself.¡±


    ¡°Helios! I beg you; I¡¯ll make you a king. We can reinvigorate this place and make it a bastion of life like my old nation. None will fear sickness or disease!¡±


    ¡°Ahh, shut it. I saw your old kingdom, ya hag. Sure, ya gave out free healthcare, but the moment somebody complained, they lost it all. Aint much free when you are bound by health.¡± He shook the container, causing the head to bounce around the goo.


    ¡°Cover your ears, would you? " he said as Rachel handed him some earplugs. Jax quickly complied.


    Grabbing the tap, the smell of ozone filled the air as the device activated. The goddess¡¯ high-pitched screams filled the air. It was a wail of pure agony as electricity coursed through the fluid. The goo brightened as the divine essence was forcefully pulled from the head. A fresh scent quickly replaced the sterile smell. Like walking through a forest right after it rained, it was pleasant on the nose while her wails stung the ears.


    Twisting it shut, the device halted, and the goddess went comatose. He turned back and held a cup full of raw life essence. The goo already had bits of sprouting plant matter floating throughout it. Helios quickly pounded it back, his face grimacing as he slurped down the chunky fluid.


    ¡°Arghsh. It never gets easier, but my golly, does it get the blood pumping!¡± he said, wiping his lips.


    When he reactivated his skill, it went from a faint glow to a bright light.


    ¡°Now that¡¯s what I¡¯m talking about,¡± He said with glee, then dove back in.


    He knew the man meant no harm, but healers were always slightly off. A lingering unease was set in his mind. Many horror stories originated from disgruntled healers. They quickly picked up tricks of the gods they slew and used them. Some were quite insidious in their work. He wasn¡¯t sure about this one, but Roderick had given an entire kingdom a form of fatal insomnia. It was a long con, slowly infecting the cattle with modified prions. Working his way through the markets and contaminating the food. As the months passed, the kingdom began falling apart. People went crazy from the lack of sleep, riots formed in the streets, and thousands perished daily. All so he could starve out the god they worshiped.


    Others used their skills in more direct combat, implanting a seed and letting it grow within their enemy, increasing muscle mass so quickly that the flesh burst, and even overclocking hormonal production to give others such ravenous hunger that they consumed their own comrades¡ªdeath-aspected slayers killed with a touch. Healers were brutal, using a twisted mind to devise their offensive techniques.


    ¡°Whew, all done now. Should be better than new. As a first-time bonus, I gave you a bit of reinforcement in your bones. Check your stats!¡± He pulled up a portal scanner.


    Sure enough, his constitution went up a single point. That in itself was worth the trouble.


    ¡°With that done, I¡¯d say it¡¯s going to cost 47,000 credits. Rachel, go ahead and ring him up while I figure out this arm issue.¡±


    Jax¡¯s heart dropped. He didn¡¯t have those funds. Clearly, his face said it all as Helios looked him in the eye.


    ¡°Now, Jax buddy, you are not going to skimp me now, right? I did you are biiiig favor and any other would charge you triple.¡± Helios grinned, but Jax could feel the air start to tingle. Helios was building up power.


    Jax felt the man¡¯s grip tighten, the fingers slipping into the tendons and sending a sharp pain up the arm. Just like that, his dream was shattered, and he would be indentured by this man.


    ¡°I¡­don¡¯t have that¡± he said, holding back the tears.


    All this time, all this work, even face death itself¡­for nothing. He is poorer than when he began and still missing his dominant arm.


    ¡°Oi, don¡¯t fucking cry! Let me see your account. RACHEL!¡± He moved the arm to the bioscanner and peered over the funds.


    ¡°Damn, Sorry about that one.¡± He turned to his daughter.


    ¡°See, Dad, freeloader. I knew I showed up and kicked em to the curb.¡± They both continued to talk as if he weren¡¯t there. And honestly, he was nothing in their eyes¡ªjust another peasant wandering the mid-town streets.


    ¡°Well, Jax, normally, I¡¯d say our friendship is over. Garnish your wages and kick you back on the street.¡± Jax stood and moved to the door.


    Helios countered, his hand exploding into a twisting mass of bloody sinew. The ball of meat slammed the door shut, trapping Jax.


    ¡°But I like desperate folk and you reek of it. Let¡¯s say we do a¡­mutual exchange.¡±


    Jax knew he would regret this, but what choice did he have?