ã€ŠGod Of Hell {A Dark Progression Fantasy}ã€‹


 Chapter 1: Abandon all hope, you who enter here...

    Chapter 1: - Abandon all hope, you who enter here...

    Death came easy when you were shot through the fucking skull.

    Nero had learnt that the hard way. Well, he had learnt it the easy way first, in biology class a while ago. But now, now he knew it, knew for certain that when you blew a person¡¯s brains out, whatever simulacrum of a personality, a being, a self and a consciousness it holds was blown away too, splattered across the wall in a beautiful pink mess.

    Or did he?

    He was thinking, wasn''t he?

    I hadn''t even noticed.

    How could he, it was his natural state of mind, never keeping still, never clinging to one moment, always in a race against everyone else to keep himself at least two steps ahead.

    But it shouldn¡¯t matter what the state of his mind used to be if it was currently congealing on a wall. Should it?

    No, no it should not.

    And yet he still was; not moving, not breathing, seeing, hearing or even living. But he was thinking¡­ Somehow.

    Whatever this was, he knew it wouldn¡¯t last. Or was that him hoping it wouldn¡¯t? After all, as much as he enjoyed his own company, an infinity in this equally infinite void would drive him insane. So he thought of what mattered, the most important thing on his mind and frankly what would be the most important thing on just about anyone else¡¯s mind in his position.

    What could he have done to prevent his death?

    He toyed with the idea, gnawed at it and tinkered with all its edges, vertices and faces until finally coming to the conclusion he¡¯d already found just seconds before the trigger was pulled.

    There was nothing I could have done to prevent this.

    Perhaps if he were someone else it would have brought him peace to know this. Nero wasn¡¯t someone else. It made Nero¡¯s blood boil, made his mind thrash, he wanted to scream, kick and fling shit at the wall until the heat death of the universe.

    But that wouldn¡¯t happen, not just because he didn¡¯t have a body to do the flinging or the shitting anymore, but because he could feel his consciousness slipping from him. His earliest memories were blurs, obvious facts became hazy and names tangled into one another like loose strings in a storm.

    Whatever this was, this state before death, it was coming to an end, and death proper would follow soon.

    Frantically he began reaching for his memories, not the ones he loved but the ones he despised, for he knew hate was a stronger motivator than love could ever be. He clung onto everything he loathed about the world, everything he loathed about himself, the stupid way the human spine was designed, the way his moron neighbour always made horrible puns that only he found funny, rabbits. The bastards. What was up with them anyway? With their stupid eyes and big ears, always listening in for something.

    Finally he hated the fact that he was dying and there was nothing he could do to stop it.

    It didn¡¯t matter, in time it all spilled past his mind like water through limp fingers and he couldn¡¯t even remember the name of those stupid hopping creatures he hated so much.

    Soon he couldn¡¯t recall what anything was, but he knew what hate was, he¡¯d cling to that like a lifebuoy in the middle of a raging ocean. Whatever those were.

    Nero was dying, but he¡¯d die hating.

    He waited to forget that too, but didn¡¯t. What washed over him instead was a voice, like fire burning through his veins, melting his insides and twisting it into a terrible sensation he could only half remember.

    ¡®Abandon all hope you who enter here¡­¡¯

    It was a soft voice, a woman¡¯s or maybe a young girl¡¯s.

    ¡®Can you hear me?¡¯ It asked, tone tentative. He could, not through any means he could identify. It sounded like she was speaking to him from within his own skull.

    ¡®I¡­ I can¡­¡¯ He replied, shocking himself by the sound of his own voice. He could speak- no, think, think so loud that it was hard to tell the difference.

    ¡®Who are you?¡¯

    ¡®You can call me Ember.¡¯ She said, ¡®And I will guide you to safety.¡¯ The sound of her voice seemed to drift away from him now.

    ¡®What? Where am I?¡¯

    ¡®Quickly,¡¯ She said, voice tinged with haste. ¡®You must follow my voice, or they will have you, the Enemy will have your soul and you will be damned, a plaything for their amusement!¡¯

    Well, that was as horrifying a thing to hear as he could imagine.

    ¡®How do I do that?!¡¯

    ¡®You just do!¡¯

    Nero doubted he¡¯d be getting any more helpful tips from her and he still had the impossible task of following a voice while falling through a void of nothingness.

    ¡®Follow the sound of my v¡­¡¯

    Ember was a distant thing now, and Nero¡¯s panic grew directly proportional to how far away she sounded.

    You just do. That was what she¡¯d said, so Nero did.

    He banished the panic, somewhere at the back of his mind he knew it was a distraction, banished the anger, the fear, the confusion and just focused on one thing, Ember.

    There was a yanking sensation, so sudden and forceful that he could swear he¡¯d have puked were he still capable of such a thing.

    ¡®You¡¯re doing it!¡¯ Ember chimed happily, voice growing closer.

    What he was doing felt horrible. He was still falling, and he was sure it was in the same relative direction, but every half second or so he¡¯d be forced to make a zig or a zag at a random angle and without a hint of forewarning.

    It was as if Ember was in a speedboat riding a titanic storm and he was in that very same ocean, tied to the boat¡¯s hull by his own entrails.

    Despite how uniquely miserable it felt, Nero could do nothing but hold on for dear life.

    All falls, however, had to hit the ground eventually, and Nero¡¯s was no different. He just didn¡¯t expect it to feel so horrible.

    All that momentum coming to a sudden dead stop was a terrible sensation, his guts squirmed, his mind blurred and his head rang. He could have sworn that this time he was actually puking.

    Wait¡­ Was he?

    There was a retching sound, and a pressure building up in his throat. He opened his eyes to find himself keeled over a white marble floor and emptying his guts onto its surface.

    He could see. It was all blurs, round edges and fuzzy details, but he could see.

    A tiny ball of light danced in front of his eyes, gold in colour and barely larger than his pinky finger.

    ¡°You made it!¡± he heard something say from within it. He recognised the voice, and it took Nero¡¯s momentum addled mind a slow and trodding march before he arrived at the reason.

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    ¡°Ember¡­¡± He tried to say but ended up coughing out the words instead. God, he wanted to just lay down for a few seconds.

    His vision grew more and more focused as his eyes settled on the light yet what he saw seemed more out of place with reality than rounded edges and fuzzy lines.

    The light wasn¡¯t shaped like a ball but a person, a child to be exact. She had bright yellow skin and billowing blonde hair, both of which glowed with a smokey golden aura. It was an odd thing, she seemed perpetually made of flames and somehow simultaneously aflame.

    If she was bothered by it, it didn¡¯t show, her smile was as bright as any other child being handed candy.

    Nero noticed her levitation last, noting the subtle drifting of her body just inches above the ground with a dull acceptance. It was just that sort of day.

    ¡°What the fuck?¡± He managed to say.

    Ember¡¯s face scrunched up in confusion, so delicate were her features that it looked like wrinkles on a sheet of paper. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off by a voice Nero had never heard before.

    ¡°Light Breather, we thank you for answering our summons!¡± It boomed.

    That prompted Nero to finally take in his surroundings. He was in a small, windowless room with white brick walls and stone pillars that wore the cracks of age openly across their surface. There was a circle around him and candles on its edges. Just beyond the circumference stood a ring of a dozen hooded figures, all with eyes on him.

    They wore brown robes save from one who was draped in all black. Judging by that alone, Nero let himself assume that was the leader of this odd little procession and likely the one who had spoken to him.

    He got to his feet and only then noticed the intimate chill in the air. He had only a robe on, brown, like the ones worn by the others, though he had nothing underneath it was uncomfortably short. ¡°Where the fuck are my clothes?¡± He asked immediately.

    ¡°We apologise Breather, apparels do not make the trip through Damnation.¡± The black cloak explained.

    Nero found his frustration growing in tandem to his terror. ¡°Where the fuck are my clothes!?¡±

    It was probably not the best course of action to get aggressive at a group of people plentiful enough in number to easily beat him to death, but being literally murdered and then seeing a magic ghost tended to do strange things to a person¡¯s judgement. Apparently.

    What surprised him however was how the group shrank back from him, like he was some beast and not a twenty year old kid who had never ever been inside a gym.

    It would have been refreshing, if it didn¡¯t niggle him so much.

    What do they know that I don¡¯t?

    There were bigger things to worry about now and he found his mind drawn instantly back to them as the black robed man raised a hand. He was the only one who hadn¡¯t shown terror at the sight of Nero¡¯s rage.

    ¡°Brothers, sisters, the Light Breather is weary from his travels through the planes, leave us.¡±

    There was not a hint of hesitation before the rest of them stalked out of the room, confirming Nero¡¯s suspicion that he was in fact their leader as they flowed out through a great wooden door.

    The man only spoke again when the door was shut behind him.

    ¡°I apologise for the terrible introduction, I should have known that such a welcome would be¡­ Startling.¡± He said, taking off his hood.

    He was an old man with grey hairs enough to prove it, even if the wrinkles hadn¡¯t. A black beard sat on

    his rough face, a face which looked like it had been on the wrong end of a thrown fist far too many times.

    Still, there was a calm to him and one that almost made Nero let his guard down. Almost.

    ¡°I am Atix Beckley, senior Inquisitor, I know you¡¯re scared, confused and more. Lord knows I was too, but I promise you, I can explain.¡±

    As if to punctuate his words, the man took off his robes, folded the cloth and held it out for Nero.

    Nero inspected it for a moment, fearing it might be rigged with some kind of trap and then snatched the thing from him with what he hoped was a lightning quick motion.

    If it was, it didn''t show on the bigger man¡¯s face. Nero had thought the man looked intimidating, hooded and draped in all black. That was only because he hadn¡¯t seen what was hidden beneath.

    His attire was mediaeval in nature, he wore leather and ringmail atop his person, and by his hip was a sheathed sword. The leather covered much of his body, scar tissue covered the rest.

    His hands, his neck and any other exposed part of him seemed to have suffered at least one hack, slash or sprain.

    The sight of it all made him banish the idea that this was just some sort of elaborate cosplay on this stranger¡¯s part.

    No¡­ Standing before him was a warrior.

    And a killer too¡­

    He slid the too-large cloak on and found himself grateful for the extra layer of dignity he¡¯d been able to restore in doing so. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said softly, finally grasping at some measure of calm. ¡°Now, please tell me, where the fuck I am.¡±

    The man opened his mouth to speak, hesitated then sighed. ¡°It is better if you follow me.¡±

    ¡°I-¡±

    Without another word Atix turned and stepped out the large wooden door.

    Nero hesitated only a moment and then followed. Nothing was making sense, this was his chance to change that and he wouldn¡¯t let that slip away.

    He hugged the cloak tightly as he walked, careful not to trip himself on the stupidly oversized thing. Nero emerged into a hallway filled with familiar brown cloaked figures. They all gazed at him with awe, wonderment and was that¡­ a hint of fear?

    Unlit torches hung on the wall and try as he might Nero couldn¡¯t spot a single lightbulb in the entire hallway.

    That¡­ that¡¯s not right. That¡¯s not right at all.

    Atix turned, made his way up a winding flight of stairs and Nero stayed close behind.

    Something bright zipped past his eyes. A firefly? No, Ember.

    ¡°You haven¡¯t told me what your name is yet you know.¡± She said, with a girlish giggle.

    ¡°Because I have more important things to do.¡± Nero snapped. He turned, glared at her and she smiled back brightly. She was floating a metre or so to his side, bobbing up and down like a ship upon invisible waves.

    ¡°Like what?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Like finding out where the fuck I am and why I¡¯m hallucinating a fucking fairy bugging the shit out of me.¡± He hissed.

    Ember¡¯s face scrunched up once again and Nero for a moment entertained the idea that she¡¯d understood the gravity of the situation. That hope was quickly snuffed away when next she spoke. ¡°What''s a fairy?¡± She asked.

    ¡°It¡¯s Nero.¡± He replied wearily.

    Ember cocked her head to the side. ¡°A fairy is Nero? That doesn¡¯t make sense. You can¡¯t use a made up word to explain another made up word?¡±

    Nero sighed. ¡°Fuck me¡­¡± He said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

    Atix turned to him with an inquisitive look and Nero did his best impression of a not crazy person by smiling back at him and ceasing his conversation with his imaginary friend.

    ¡°You¡¯re convening with the Ember I see.¡± He noted, looking amused.

    ¡°Y-you can see her?¡± He asked, eyes wide.

    He shook his head. ¡°No, I could, but not anymore, now that she¡¯s soul forged to you I think you¡¯re the only one that can see her.¡±

    Nero blinked. ¡°I¡­ Soul forged? What?¡±

    Atix looked like a man with a million things to say and not a clue which to start with. ¡°Light Breather¡­¡±

    ¡°Nero.¡± He corrected. ¡°My name is Nero.¡±

    The warrior nodded. ¡°Nero. You have joined a war, a war that humanity is on the losing side of and has been on the losing side of since the day it began.¡± His tone was grave, voice grim.

    ¡°A war against who?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Demons.¡±

    ¡°Demons¡­¡± He repeated, looking for a homonym to that word that didn¡¯t mean what he thought it meant.

    Atix smiled sadly. ¡°I suppose it is a testament to just how much time I¡¯ve spent here that such a thing barely sounds insane anymore.¡±

    ¡°Demons.¡± Nero repeated uselessly.

    ¡°You are our one hope Nero, you are our saviour. The Light Breather.¡± He said. When his eyes settled on Nero it seemed like the man was looking at someone else completely.

    They came to a stop in front of a heavy iron door. Atix undid the heavy bolts and swung it open with a whirring metallic creaking noise. He stepped aside and gestured for Nero to step through. ¡°I¡­ would recommend you brace yourself for what you¡¯re about to see my friend.¡± There was an unmistakable pity in his eyes.

    It made Nero hesitate a moment. But only a moment.

    Nero made his way through the door and was hit with a gust of wind that sent his robes flapping. The air tasted of sulphur, and despite the speed of its currents it licked his skin with a prickling heat not unlike smoke from a fire.

    Nero stood atop a tower and around him was an alien landscape.

    For a moment he thought it was covered in ash, and then he realised he couldn''t have been more wrong. Those were trees he was looking at, a dense forest of trees all growing and functioning, and all the colour of charred or charring things.

    A terrible screech bit into his ears from above, like nails on chalkboard. Nero turned his gaze to the sky where a massive, winged serpentine creature soared through the air. It was the length of a whale and had a wingspan so great as to more closely resemble jungle canopy.

    There was a thick canvas of clouds above the monster. Sickly purple clouds. He saw lightning running through the underside of its belly like the veins of some long forgotten god.

    Yet there was no thunder.

    Why was there no thunder?

    His head was pounding, his mouth dry, his mind a mess.

    ¡°This is Tayalnisyan, or as you might know it, Limbo. The first of the nine circles.¡± Atix¡¯s voice crashed into him from behind.

    ¡°So that means¡­¡± He began, but didn¡¯t have the will to finish his sentence.

    Atix clasped him on the shoulder and replied with words as heavy as an anvil. ¡°Yes Nero. You¡¯re in Hell.¡±

 Chapter 2: What makes a man?

    Chapter 2: - What makes a man?

    Nero was seated across from Atix. They were back in the room he had appeared in, and he¡¯d warmed up to it. It was a way better place to be in than outside where horrors unknown to man lurked.

    For a moment there was silence, save from the pair of wooden stools creaking underneath their weights. The man seemed content within it, eyes warm and fatherly, as if to say ¡®take all the time you need son.¡¯

    On any other day it would have been reassuring. Today Nero hated it. It was a barely noticeable comfort in a disastrous situation, about as effective as a handjob received while hot pokers were shoved down his dick hole.

    Ember hovered around the man¡¯s sword hilt. She inspected the odd patterns etched into the metal with an inquisitive look on her yellow face.

    Compared to Atix and him, the creature looked perfectly unbothered by the events of the day.

    ¡°So, everyone in this building, everyone I¡¯ll meet, is dead?¡± He asked, breaking the silence with a question directed at Atix. It seemed the most important and reasonable thing to ask.

    ¡°Well, no.¡± Atix shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ll rarely meet an unshackled Damned out in the wild. Most people in the tower, if not all of them really, are several generations removed from those condemned to Damnation.¡±

    It was refreshing, being able to think again. And also incredibly terrifying because he knew the exact question to ask next, and exactly what would come after it. ¡°So what happens to the dead people?¡± He swallowed.

    ¡°Damned.¡± Atix corrected. ¡°Death, real death happens here in the afterlife. It¡¯s similar to what you¡¯d expect in the physical plane, can be caused by anything from old age to disease. The only difference is here, sometimes it can be because a demon bug crawled up your asshole and exploded with the force of a grenade.¡±

    Nero did well to keep the visual image of that happening to him nice and far away from his head. ¡°And I¡¯m guessing it¡¯s permanent?¡± He asked and Atix nodded.

    So he could still die. Nero didn¡¯t know if that was a good or a bad thing. He wasn¡¯t religious, never had been, but he knew enough to associate Hell with eternal suffering, so there was something to celebrate in knowing that his was only going to be for the rest of his finite life.

    Yay.

    There was a pause, and Nero realised that Atix hadn¡¯t answered his question. ¡°You still didn¡¯t tell me what happens to the Damned.¡±

    The man took a deep breath then pulled his sleeve up. Just above his wrist and up his arm was a band of what looked like melted flesh. It was roughly five inches wide and only slightly greater in length.

    ¡°Depending on the weight of their sins, they appear in their circle, are bound by cuffs and forced to serve the rest of their lives as thralls to whichever Demon Lord bids the highest for their soul.¡±

    Atix¡¯s eyes were a distant thing now, looking through Nero and not at him. His own eyes on the other hand couldn¡¯t leave the sight of Atix¡¯s scarred flesh. ¡°It¡¯s not mind control if that¡¯s what you¡¯re thinking, but I wish it was. They wrap a cuff around your wrist, enchanted so if you don¡¯t do whatever the keyholder orders you to, it burns like nothing you¡¯ve ever imagined, burns so hot that you can¡¯t help but obey. No matter what they make you do, no matter how heinous it is¡­. You obey.¡±

    Atix was glaring now, with a scowl so vicious it looked more like a scar than an expression upon his face.

    ¡°But occasionally, whether through planning, determination or just plain old circumstance, some escape, and an even smaller fraction of that bunch, when the stars align just right, get to slit their Demon Lord¡¯s throat in his fucking sleep.¡±

    Nero was suddenly more aware of the sword which Ember sat gingerly on the hilt of, odd symbols were etched into its handle.

    He found a pit growing in his stomach. ¡°And that¡¯s what would have happened to me, if not for her?¡± He whispered, and Atix glanced to his hip, realising from where Nero was looking, that Ember must be somewhere on his person.

    ¡°Yes.¡± He nodded grimly, but it seemed there was more to say. He didn¡¯t say it, however.

    Nero decided to prompt him. ¡°You said we¡¯re judged by the weight of our sins. I¡¯m going to take a guess and say the sins get worse the deeper you go. So Where?¡±

    Atix raised an eyebrow. ¡°Wha-¡±

    ¡°Where was I headed to, it¡¯s clear you know, it¡¯s clear everyone in this building knows, so had she not saved me, where would I be?¡± He asked.

    It was Atix¡¯s turn to be on the backfoot of the conversation now. ¡°I¡­ You were on route to Tradimento, the ninth and last circle. But I do not believe where Damnantion decides to send a man is of any worth.¡±

    Atix looked as if he was bracing for Nero¡¯s reaction. A breakdown was likely in order, freaking out, denial, surely denial. All his bracing did not seem to prepare him for what actually came.

    Nero shrugged. ¡°Makes sense.¡±

    You always were an overachiever.

    ¡°I- I see¡­¡± He said, looking as if he¡¯d been hit in the head and didn¡¯t know where he was.

    Nero got to his feet, pacing now, it always helped him think. ¡°So, this war, it¡¯s about freeing humans from the Demons, yes?¡±

    Atix nodded. ¡°You¡¯re the Light Breather, destined saviour of mankind, your magic is uniquely potent against Demons.¡±

    Magic, of course he had magic, this day just couldn¡¯t get any weirder. ¡°Alright then, I¡¯ll help you.¡±

    Atix wore shock once more. ¡°You will?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll need information though, a lot of it, on Hell, its people and obviously the Demons.¡± He told him.

    Atix was on his feet in moments. ¡°The tower is old but I¡¯m sure there are still texts of value within its libraries.¡±

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    ¡°Perfect,¡± Nero grinned, take me to it.

    Atix made his way to do just that and Nero followed him.

    It was the wisest decision to make, he realised. Not the helping of course, no, but the act of lying through his teeth by saying he¡¯d do so.

    The library was in worse condition than Nero had expected, caked in what looked to be centuries of dust and coated with spiderwebs. These webs were blood red rather than white, however, and Nero shuddered at the thought of encountering the abomination that had spun them.

    Still, it was usable, or at least usable enough. And the moment he was within it, he got to work. The first thing to note was that the texts were all in a language he could read.

    It wasn¡¯t English though, it wasn¡¯t even a script he¡¯d ever seen in his life, but the moment he saw it he knew exactly what each character symbolised and how they all came together.

    It occurred to him that he was also speaking the dialect as well, he¡¯d been speaking it since he got here and only noticed when he paid careful attention to what he was saying.

    Like manual breathing.

    It was disconcerting, interesting but not nearly as important as his real task here.

    He¡¯d asked for a guide to help him get up to speed on things. Which was a good idea as it turned out the library¡¯s contents were perhaps half as old as its walls. That meant almost everything was outdated and he needed current information if his plan was going to have any chance of working.

    That guide in particular had been a junior Inquisitor by the name of Alisan. She was a young woman, perhaps his age or a bit older and draped in the monk-like cloak the residents of this castle all seemed to wear.

    She looked upon him with the same set of hopeful eyes that everyone else in the building seemed to hold.

    It only served to make Nero feel worse about what he was going to do, but he couldn¡¯t help but focus on the positives, it meant she¡¯d be easy to trick into helping him.

    People were easy to manipulate once you knew who they were, and no one was better at knowing people than Nero was. Perhaps in someone else¡¯s hands they¡¯d have used their gifts for good, but in Nero hands they were used for Nero things, Like using a zealot to unwittingly let you escape the reach of her association.

    ¡°I¡¯ll need a map.¡± He smiled, and the woman hurriedly ransacked through shelves before pulling out one and rolling it out on the table. Like most things in here, it was aged and told him so with the yellows and browns around the edges.

    The depiction of the landscape was not too dissimilar to what he¡¯d seen when he stepped out onto the roof. They were in a tower, up on a hill and surrounded by thick forests on all sides.

    Beyond the forests were settlements, Nero could see, but he needed a way to them that didn¡¯t include him having to venture into the abyss itself.

    ¡°And everything save from this tower is Demon territory?¡± He asked, Alisan nodded grimly.

    Ember floated over the depiction of a stream and followed its path through the map, stopping when she came upon a bridge.

    He was about to tell her to float somewhere else when he realised that she¡¯d landed on a cleared pathway carving through the forest and connected the tower to a town called Stradale.

    ¡°Wacha¡¯ looking at?¡± Ember asked, staring up at him with wide eyes.

    ¡°The most likely path the Demons would come through.¡± He lied, tapping his finger on the bridge.

    Alisan glanced at his finger, thought for a moment then shook her head. ¡°Oh, we don¡¯t need to worry about that, the bridge collapsed years ago.¡±

    Nero smiled, wearing relief while doing his best not to swear loudly at the revelation that his safest route of exit was destroyed. ¡°So¡­ how did you get here?¡±

    ¡°Well, all twelve of us made our way through the Dark Forest, it couldn¡¯t have been done without Atix¡¯s help.¡± She explained.

    That was new information, it meant this place wasn¡¯t the permanent residence of the Inquisition.

    It didn¡¯t make getting out of here much less of a problem however, Nero very much doubted he¡¯d be getting Atix¡¯s help in escaping his fucking death cult.

    ¡°I see.¡± He nodded. ¡°Is there a chance there¡¯s a map of the tower here.¡±

    Alisan nodded. ¡°Oh, there is!¡± She smiled. ¡°I¡¯ll get it for you.¡± The woman said, running off to do just that.

    She probably thinks you¡¯re some kind of hero. Nero buried the guilt that welled within him. Alisan came back only a moment later, laying several sheets of paper atop the map.

    They were the plans for the tower, he¡¯d identified both the room he¡¯d appeared in and the winding stairs that lead up to the roof.

    ¡°So you say there¡¯s only twelve people in the building?¡± He asked.

    Alisan nodded then hesitated. ¡°Well thirteen now that you¡¯re here.¡±

    ¡°Fourteen!¡± Ember pouted, not pleased to be dismissed.

    ¡°Fourteen.¡± Nero found himself correcting her. That brought a smile to Ember¡¯s face.

    Alisan looked distraught at the mistake, bowing her head dejectedly. ¡°Yes, fourteen. Please forgive me for overlooking your Imp, Lightbreather.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s fine.¡± Nero said as non-awkwardly as he could manage. ¡°So, she¡¯s an Imp?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Well, that¡¯s what she looked like when I saw her.¡± She answered. ¡°You¡¯d have to ask Atix what kind she is, he¡¯s the one that summoned her, I couldn¡¯t tell you for the life of me.¡± Alisan looked ashamed not to have been of more help.

    He moved on from the topic quickly. ¡°This gate, that¡¯s the entrance yeah?¡± He asked. ¡°Is it guarded?¡± He asked. To Nero it was the exit, but it was always better not to voice such things.

    ¡°Yes, two of our best Casters stand guard, ready to ward off any Demon incursions.¡± Alisan said. He cursed his mind for recognising that the woman was trying to reassure him of his safety here. It made what he was doing feel all the more cruel.

    ¡°That¡¯s good.¡± Nero nodded.

    That meant he couldn¡¯t sneak out through there.

    He traced his hand across the plans and found a door that seemed to lead to nowhere. Nero shuffled the papers around and found that it was a secret passage into what seemed like an underground tunnel.

    That was good, that was hope.

    ¡°And is that where all the guards are stationed?¡± He asked the woman, careful to keep his eyes from lingering on the secret passage.

    Aison nodded. ¡°Yes?¡± She frowned. ¡°Is there something wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing, I was just hoping more people would be at the gates.¡± Nero lied. From her response, that likely means they don¡¯t know about the passage. That would be his escape route then. Nero felt the spark of hope burn within him but quickly snuffed it out. It was a dangerous thing to celebrate before a job is done.

    That was what his boss used to say.

    ¡°We can station more guards at the gates if it¡¯d help you feel more secure.¡± Alisan offered, nearly tripping over herself with the haste of her words.

    ¡°That would be excellent.¡± He smiled. A good way to appease her and simultaneously make sure there were less people he could bump into when sneaking out.

    Alisan beamed a smile that seemed almost designed to stab him through the heart with guilt. Nero ignored it.

    ¡°Is there anything else I could help you with Light Breather?¡±

    ¡°No, not at all.¡± He shook his head. ¡°You¡¯ve been quite helpful.¡± He told her.

    He didn¡¯t know if this place had nights, but he had a suspicion that the people here slept. He¡¯d make his move when that happened, and he¡¯d be out of here.

 Chapter 3: Is it not Virtue?

    Chapter 3: - Is it not Virtue?

    Hell had nights. Nero didn¡¯t know if that was refreshing or horrifying, but it did, and in this case it was an advantage he made sure to leverage.

    They weren¡¯t like earth nights, the purple clouds still retained their hue, only dulled, and two moons hung in the heavens, one silver and the other a sickly blue.

    He didn¡¯t know how dark it would get nor how long that dark would last so he decided to make his move as soon as the world became bathed in shadow enough for an advantage. Nero hated working on incomplete information.

    He was wearing stockings and a tunic now, gifted to him by the Inquisition. Nero was thankful as they were far more mobile than what he¡¯d had.

    Finally, once he¡¯d gathered up enough courage, he made his way out of the library. He slipped past a patrolling guard and slid into the next hallway. Ah, yes, there were patrolling guards now.

    Alisan in her helpful nature had ¡®noticed¡¯ his concern about security and relayed that information to Atix who doubled security around the building.

    A slight miscalculation on his part, and one that had larger consequences than he could have anticipated. He supposed it was the novelty of dealing with zealots that caused it and Nero made a silent note not to make that same mistake again.

    He¡¯d corrected it as much as he could by memorising their schedules, and so it was no surprise when a man popped up from the corridor next to him and walked past, none the wiser that he was coiled into the shadows of a corner.

    It wasn¡¯t long before he was at the door leading down to the tunnels. It was then that a thought occurred to him, one that filled him with dread.

    What if it¡¯s locked?

    Nero decided to know his fate. He wrapped his hand around the handle and twisted downwards. The door slid open but not without making a painful creak that screeched through the air.

    Shit!

    Nero slid into it quickly and gently shut the door behind him.

    Before him was a set of stairs so ancient they made the tower look like a springy youth. Not a trickle of light sank into the passage and the only reason he could see as to why was Ember¡¯s bright, flickering glow.

    Said source of light floated around Nero¡¯s head now. She¡¯d been talking since, asking questions and Nero had been doing his best to ignore her while banking on the fact that no one else could hear her.

    ¡°Where are we going Nero?!¡± Ember asked, arms folded with an expression that he knew was her trying to look intimidating. She looked more like a pouting bunny instead.

    ¡°I¡¯m exploring.¡± He whispered to her and began walking down the steps.

    ¡°Exploring?¡± She asked and seemed to be recalling the meaning of the word. ¡°Ah exploring, yes, but isn¡¯t this dangerous, shouldn¡¯t you call Atix to come down with you?¡±

    ¡°Yes, but Atix is sleeping and I would rather not bother him.¡± He replied, not meeting her eyes.

    ¡°Still, I think it¡¯s dangerous down here Nero.¡± She said, a soft tremble to her voice. ¡°I think we should wait till tomorrow.¡±

    Nero was starting to suspect that God was taunting him by making him lie to the most undeserving people imaginable. He hesitated then spoke. ¡°Ember¡­ I¡¯m not actually exploring.¡±

    ¡°What- what are you doing then?¡± She asked, puzzled.

    They had reached the bottom now and were walking through the narrow tunnel.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting us out of here.¡± He told her.

    ¡°Getting us out? But we¡¯re supposed to stay here, the Demons lurk everywhere else, the tower is the only place we¡¯re safe in.¡±

    ¡°Well, I don¡¯t feel safe here, the Inquisition wants to enlist me into a war they¡¯re losing and make me the most important target for the winning side.¡± He snapped, perhaps more edged than he would have preferred.

    Ember¡¯s face darkened. ¡°But it¡¯s the only way to save humanity.¡±

    ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to save humanity!¡± He hissed and watched as the Imp flinched back from him. Nero shook his head. ¡°Sorry, sorry. It¡¯s just¡­ This is hell right? So maybe the people sent here are here for a good reason.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean?¡± She coked her head to the side.

    ¡°I mean¡­ I¡¯m not a hero¡­ I¡¯m not anything good at all.¡± His reply turned to a half-audible mumble by the time it was done.

    Ember frowned in thought for a long moment and then smiled. ¡°Well, I think you can be¡­¡±

    He sighed. ¡°Well of course you do, you¡¯re a child.¡±

    Ember huffed. ¡°I¡¯m three hundred thousand years old!¡±

    Nero blinked. ¡°Well¡­ that¡¯s news.¡± He admitted. ¡°But you behave and look like a child and hence should be treated as one. Anyone who would disagree is either a liar or a weirdo.¡± Nero shrugged.

    Ember, thankfully didn¡¯t push it, only glared daggers at him.

    ¡°Listen, I¡¯ve thought this through.¡± He explained gently. ¡°You see this sack in my hand?¡± He raised it. ¡°It contains a shitload of fruits, I said I needed it for research and they gave me enough for a whole week.¡± He explained. ¡°There¡¯s also a map in here and a few other tools that¡¯ll help with survival.¡±

    ¡°The forest is large but not that large, I reckon I could make it to the nearest town in seven days.¡± He told her. ¡°From there I¡¯ll figure out the rest.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t do this Nero.¡± Ember whispered.

    ¡°It¡¯s already done.¡± He told her.

    The rest of the walk was one of silence and Nero hated it. He¡¯d already gotten used to Ember¡¯s constant buzzing about but now she was quiet as still water, and her glow was a dull thing, like the light of a dying flame.

    ¡°It¡¯s happening again.¡± She whispered, but Nero didn¡¯t prompt her to elaborate.

    Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings.

    It broke his heart, it did. But it wasn¡¯t his fault. It wasn¡¯t on him or anyone to join a fight against literal fucking Demons, frankly it was an insane ask and an insane thing to even consider.

    At least that was what he told himself.

    Nero made one more corner through the tunnel and found himself at the exit door. It was wooden like the other one and even if it was locked it looked flimsy enough to break through with a simple kick.

    His exit was there, so why was he hesitating?

    Was it courage? No, he searched for it and found none there, it was in fact the opposite. Always the opposite.

    So focused on getting out of Atix¡¯s grasp, he hadn¡¯t even considered what outside actually was. It was a world of monsters. He¡¯d seen that dragon thing, how many more of them were out there? And how much worse did things get?

    Sure he had seven days of food, but that wouldn¡¯t help him if he became food. Then there was the town, he didn¡¯t know what these people¡¯s customs were, fuck he didn¡¯t know anything about them, he barely knew anything about this place at all.

    No, no, he couldn¡¯t just leave, he needed to prepare more. Atix said he had magic, he could train that, he could learn how to fight, learn how everything worked. The man wouldn¡¯t do anything to put him in danger so quickly right?

    No he wouldn¡¯t, he needs me.

    So all he had to do was stay by his side, learn all needed to and then, when the opportunity arose, dip under circumstances he had more control over.

    But this could be his only chance to escape. He didn¡¯t know what resources Atix had, he didn¡¯t know what the man was capable of. For all Nero knew the trusting complacence that had let him get this far was only because they knew he needed their knowledge of everything.

    I really, really hate working with incomplete information.

    He was stuck at a crossroad, but still there was some good here. He hadn¡¯t shut the door on either choice just yet. He could step out into the wilderness right now, or he could turn around and slide back into the library with no one being the wiser.

    At least that was true before he heard the voice.

    ¡°Lightbreather?¡± Nero turned to see Alisan standing behind him, torch in hand. There was a mix of panic and confusion in her features.

    ¡°Hey!¡± He smiled. ¡°Alisan, didn¡¯t expect to see you here.¡± He said, perhaps the first and last truth he would be telling her.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t find you in the library and then I remembered hearing a door creak.¡± She said, ¡°Wh-what¡¯s going on, what are you doing here?¡±

    She¡¯d probably woken up from sleep and wanted to check on him. The fact that she was the only one here meant that she hadn¡¯t told anyone else that she was down here. That meant if he wanted to escape all he¡¯d need to do was kill her.

    ¡°I found what looked to be a passage the enemy could come from.¡± He told her. ¡°I was checking it out.¡± Nero did well to slide the sack containing all his escaping material behind his leg.

    ¡°You¡¯re lying!¡± Ember cried out, but Alisan didn¡¯t hear her and he ignored her.

    ¡°Oh.¡± Alisan looked at the door and nodded. ¡°Good catch Light Breather, I¡¯ll go tell Atix and he¡¯ll position some guards here, come, this place isn¡¯t safe, anything could come through that door.¡±

    She turned and began walking away.

    Alisan had her back turned, relaxed. She was vulnerable like that and he had a kitchen knife in his sack. There was no good way to knock a person out, not without having them wake up near-instantly or drop dead. He had no choice but killing. It would have to be quick, painless and silent. He could manage that.

    He¡¯d regret it, yes, loathe himself for it, but what was self loathing if not a way to reassure yourself you¡¯re still human after doing something heinous? Finally he¡¯d move on, like he always did.

    With that, it seemed his decision had been made for him.

    Nero began walking towards her.

    ¡°Tell Atix I want to begin learning magic tomorrow.¡± He told Alisan.

    ¡°Of course.¡± The woman smiled, beaming. ¡°You¡¯re going to love it, I assure you.¡±

    He wasn¡¯t a killer.

    Oh, but you¡¯ve killed more than enough people already for that to be true. But doing it face to face is where you draw the line huh?

    Yes.

    He¡¯d stay with Atix, learn what he can learn and then when the time was right find a way out of all of this.

    There was a creaking noise, and for a second Nero thought it was coming from the door he¡¯d been through. But this time he heard it behind him.

    He turned to see the door ajar, purple light spilling into the tunnel.

    Ten figures stepped into the tunnel, there could have been more for all he knew, it was so narrow that they all had to stand in a row.

    Most of them wore armour, white plate armour to be exact, though designed with runes similar to those on Atix¡¯s sword and more lean and form fitting than any he¡¯d seen in illustrations. All of their faces were covered by helms.

    On one, the metal was blood red.

    What sent a true chill through him was the figure at their head. Nero had first thought it was a trick of the light, but the colour of his skin truly was blue, his eyes an empty crimson and atop his head were two pitch black horns.

    The man- no, the creature- had a grin that showed off his needle sharp fangs. He wore a dark fitting suit that seemed made for a noble ball rather than a monster.

    ¡°Well, I was working under the assumption that there wouldn¡¯t be guards down here.¡± He said, voice both smooth and sharp.

    Nero blinked. ¡°Who are you?¡± He managed to ask.

    He hadn''t known when Alisan had stepped in front of him, but she was now. The woman had her hands splayed forwards, teeth grit and seemed to be exerting force at some unseen force. ¡°Run, tell Atix the Warden is here!¡±

    He half bowed, a motion so filled with grace it barely even seemed natural. ¡°You may call me Mercury and I am here to kill every last one of you.¡±

    The demon pulled out a sword from its sheath. It was a needle-like thing, a fencer¡¯s blade. And then he was coming towards Nero as a sprinting blur.

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember yelled, but she couldn¡¯t do anything, and neither could he.

 Chapter 4: A cowardéˆ¥æªš strength.

    Chapter 4: - A coward¡¯s strength.

    Mercury¡¯s blade had stopped inches from Nero¡¯s face, it hung there hungrily, eager to feast on his blood.

    A wall of translucent blue light filled the space between Mercury and Nero. The demon¡¯s blade had pierced through it but stopped at the hilt.

    Alisan stared ahead, eyes focused, hands trembling with exertion and sweat running down her skin. She was responsible for the wall, he knew. She saved my life¡­

    ¡°Quite the talent aren¡¯t you.¡± Mercury grinned, eyes on the woman. ¡°Shame you have to die here.¡±

    ¡°Run, please, my shield won¡¯t hold for long.¡± She groaned, every word she uttered seemed a feat in itself.

    Nero banished the shock, dropped the sack in his hand, turned and ran for the stairs. Nero had a good memory, so he could remember the turns to take and exactly when they were coming up. It was also why he knew he would never forget the terrible sound of Alisan¡¯s scream clawing through the air and echoing against the walls of the tunnels.

    She was dead, and she was dead because of him.

    Nero didn¡¯t let the guilt come, he tucked it away somewhere neat and tidy. Somewhere he could come back to and poke and prod when he was safe.

    If I¡¯ll ever be safe.

    His legs were burning by the time he reached the stairs, and he could hear footsteps behind him already, gaining faster than he thought was humanly possible. Probably it was, he wasn¡¯t being chased by a human.

    He climbed up the stairs and stumbled back into the tower. There was a guard in the hallway, likely mid-patrol. ¡°Demons, the Demons are here, they¡¯re coming from the tunnels!¡±

    The man dispersed his robes to reveal the chainmail beneath. Similar to Atix¡¯s in make. ¡°Get to Atix, Light Breather, I¡¯ll buy you time.¡±

    Run away?

    That he could do, that he could always do.

    Nero nodded, took a deep breath, then raced for Atix¡¯s quarters. Luckily he¡¯d made sure to identify it during his planning.

    ¡°Inquisitors, the enemy has breached the tower!¡± Nero heard the man yell.

    He took one last glance behind to see two other armoured men racing to meet him. And then the door exploded. Nero knew it was Mercury moving only by the blue tinge his eyes caught blurring across the hall.

    The men moved quickly also, but it was no contest at all. Nero saw him dance out of the way of their attacks like a fly taunting a baby. He saw the ease at which he put his sword straight through a man¡¯s throat and knew it was over right then and there.

    Nero didn¡¯t look back, he also did his best not to set his eyes upon the guards rushing past him and straight towards their deaths.

    Soon the world was deafened by the sound of clashing swords and dying men behind him. Nero raced up winding stairs and nearly screamed with relief once he found Atix¡¯s room.

    He threw it open to find his hopes crushed. It was empty.

    He knew why immediately.

    Nero, you stupid, stupid bastard!

    ¡°Where¡¯s Atix?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°At the library, looking for me¡­¡± He told her in between pants.

    ¡°Shit!¡± The library was three floors down, where the Demon and his men were. ¡°Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck.¡± He had no choice, he needed to go back down there.

    Nero drew in a breath, turned around and made his way down the stairs. He could hear death laughing through the walls. Violence too, swords clashing, explosions and more.

    He stumbled out onto the library floor and something caught his foot. Nero tripped, fell and turned to see what it was.

    An Inquisitor¡¯s corpse laid against a pillar, half of its face cleaved off so its lower jaw overflowed with blood. He knew that would stick with him forever. He also knew that now wasn¡¯t the time to dwell on it.

    Nero stepped into the library, feet fast but also light on the ground. The room was illuminated only by the flickering torches hanging on the wall. And there were far too many in-between for it to banish the dark in its bulk.

    ¡°Atix¡­¡± Nero whispered as he slid behind a shelf. No response.

    ¡°Atix¡­¡± Nothing again.

    There was a thump. Like boots on the ground. Nero could hear it coming from the other side of the shelf. He peered in between the books to see a red visored helm staring back at him.

    Shit!

    The man reached into his sheathe, drew his weapon out and swung the bladed edge at Nero.

    He ducked just in time to see it carve through inches of wood and books like they were foam.

    ¡°Nero, run!¡± Ember screamed.

    ¡°You and your brilliant ideas,¡± He yelled back just as he raced for the exit.

    He was closer to it by a pessimistic three steps and optimistically five, but he could hear the armoured man move with a speed to cut that down with each of his own.

    By the fourth something hit Nero in the back and sent him falling hard. He met the ground painfully, rolling and stopping with a sprawl.

    ¡°Nero, are you okay?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°No, I feel like shit.¡± He coughed. He was sent flying, He didn¡¯t know people could hit that hard.

    I didn¡¯t know they could move that fast either.

    ¡°Inquisitor.¡± A voice said, cold, merciless and with the muffle of a helm to it. ¡°Do you confess your sins against the Inferno before death?¡± It was the armoured figure speaking.

    Nero turned to see the man approaching him with a calm walk, like an executioner readying to swing his blade.

    He gazed up at the man¡¯s eye slits and noticed something that gave him hope. Unlike Mercury, his skin wasn¡¯t blue, it had a pale-pinkish hue to it. Like people do. So he was human, not Demon.

    ¡°Please, I¡­ I don¡¯t want to die.¡± Nero begged. He decided that appealing to his humanity might be his only hope. Nero didn¡¯t know what kind of world this was, but he hoped that the act of killing your own kind would leave cracks in any man. Cracks that he could possibly squeeze through and come out the other side alive.

    The ice in the man¡¯s eyes banishes any such hope away. He raised his sword high and brought it down at Nero. He was dead.

    ¡°I know who the Light Breather is!¡± He screamed.

    The blade stopped, inches from his throat, a trickle of blood running down from his neck.

    He was alive¡­ For now.

    ¡°You managed to summon the Light Breather?¡± The man asked, an uncertainty in his voice. He still wasn¡¯t convinced though, Nero didn¡¯t have him where he wanted him quite yet.

    ¡°Yes, that''s why we¡¯re in this tower, to summon him and we succeeded.¡± Nero replied.

    ¡°Lies.¡± He said, eyes hardening again.

    ¡°Maybe.¡± He shrugged. ¡°But are you confident enough to kill your only lead?¡±

    ¡°There are other Inquisitors-¡±

    ¡°Who won¡¯t tell you shit.¡± Nero scoffed. ¡°They¡¯re zealots, you moron, I doubt there''s anything you could do to make them give him up.¡±

    Some might say insulting an enemy with a blade to your neck would be pure stupidity. Nero had long decided those people simply didn¡¯t know what risk management was.

    The soldier didn¡¯t kill him, which all but confirmed that he¡¯d decided he was telling the truth. After all, only an idiot would insult a man with a blade to his neck. And if one was dealing with an idiot, one hardly had to be cautious for clever lies.

    With a finger, Nero gently guided the blade away from his neck. ¡°This is the part where you ask me to tell you where she is?¡±

    A risky move if it¡¯s common knowledge that the Light Breather would be a man, to change the gender.

    But one made with the intention of throwing his scent off of him. Nero couldn¡¯t take for granted that he stood out from every other Inquisitor.

    He watched the man¡¯s eyes for a sign that his gambit had fallen flat and found none. He was either a very good liar or Nero had made the right call. ¡°Where is she?¡±

    Nero took the time to slowly get to his feet, careful not to make any sudden movements that might have him ending up with a blade between his ribs. He cleared his throat, looked the man directly in the eyes and grinned brightly. ¡°Not gonna tell you.¡±

    Nero¡¯s new favourite thing was the sweet shock that was suddenly etched into his face. It was quickly overtaken by the rage that followed. ¡°Do you play with me boy?¡±

    ¡°No, no, I¡¯m just very, very aware of who has the cards here.¡± He shrugged. ¡°And that¡¯s me, the person with all the valuable information in my brain and you without¡­Well, much of anything in your brain really.¡±

    He raised his sword.

    ¡°What are you going to do, kill me?¡±

    It was his fault really for giving Nero even a foot in his mind. What was it his ex-girlfriend said? ¡®You slept with my sister you disgusting pig.¡¯ No, the other thing, yes, it was ¡®You¡¯re like a vampire Nero, it¡¯s easy to keep you out, but once you¡¯re granted permission to step in, then you feast on people until there¡¯s nothing left of them and they don¡¯t even realise it¡¯s happening.¡¯

    The man hesitated, then did exactly what Nero wanted him to do.

    This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

    The gauntleted fist slammed into his gut and sent him to the floor puking and coughing.

    ¡°Tell me where she is!¡± The man roared.

    ¡°You punch like a-¡± He kneed him in the face, sending Nero onto his back. His nose burnt, maybe it had snapped, he wouldn¡¯t know, he hadn¡¯t been in too many fights. All he knew was that it hurt like shit.

    ¡°Girl.¡± A foot slammed into his chest, shunting him backwards and slamming him into a shelf. The world spun as books rained down on Nero¡¯s back.

    ¡°I¡¯ll keep going.¡± The man hissed, voice like venom.

    ¡°I know you will.¡± Nero grinned up at him with bloodied teeth.

    If he had fought he would have died.

    If he had tried to escape he would have died.

    The game was rigged against him, so he just had to turn it into a different game. And so he did.

    The rule of this game was simple.

    Nero would only die if he gave up himself.

    And a coward like him would do anything to survive.

    A kick came, then a blow, then another, and another. Soon the world was a sea of pain. He couldn¡¯t tell up from down anymore, colour was a blur, balance was a distant fascination and the only sound he knew was a dull ringing in his ears.

    Far away someone screamed in agony. The burning in this throat told Nero it was him.

    And still, he clung on.

    He wasn¡¯t a hero, no matter what these people wanted him to be, but he was damn fucking sure that no matter what this world threw at him, he¡¯d look out for himself. It was always the cockroaches that lived after all.

    After what felt like hours but was most likely minutes, a shove sent him sliding across the floor. He guessed the red blur approaching him was the soldier. Nero could hear his breathing, he was panting, tired. He really had been kicking for a while.

    ¡°Where is the Light Breather?¡± The soldier asked,

    ¡°S-¡± Nero tried to speak, winced because his jaw, guts, everything hurt so much.

    ¡°Nero..¡± Ember whispered, voice tiny and filled with despair.

    The man bent a knee and leaned in to hear him better. ¡°Speak boy, let the pain end.¡±

    Everything hurt, everything hurt so fucking much. ¡°Suck my dick. And squeeze my balls while at it.¡±

    For that, he received a slap that left his face raw but Nero couldn¡¯t help but laugh. It was a hysterical thing, loud and painful, so damn painful but he couldn¡¯t stop himself.

    The man stood up. ¡°I¡¯ll take you to Mercury, he¡¯ll make you speak.¡±

    He grabbed Nero by the ankle and made his way for the door with him sliding along the floor behind him.

    He froze at the sight of a figure at the exit. Dawned in chain mail and with eyes like a feasting wolf, Atix pounced on the soldier.

    The man caught the first swing of Atix¡¯s strike with his own blade. There was a spark in the air as the metals kissed, the enemy stumbled back, letting go of Nero as he lost his footing.

    Atix chased him, eager to claim his life, but his opponent¡¯s guard was a match for his blood lust. For an eternity the library was silent, save from the sound of clashing steel and grunting killers.

    It seemed the battle could go either way, and Nero couldn¡¯t have that.

    He raised his leg and with all the force he could muster, slammed his foot into the back of the enemy¡¯s knee.

    Nero wasn¡¯t a strong man by any measure, but he wasn¡¯t a child either, so he was quite surprised when kicking the man felt like kicking an oak tree. There was very little give. Very little, not none.

    It was enough to unbalance the moving man and leave him with no place to go when Atix¡¯s next swing came.

    The man¡¯s sword chased the armored warrior¡¯s helm and caught it. Nero had been expecting it to dent the metal, the helm instead shattered on impact like crystal or clay would.

    The blade cleaved through the enemy¡¯s face and Nero watched as the top half of his head slid off the lower.

    The corpse dropped soon after with a wet thud. Blood flooded out his skull, like it had suddenly gained consciousness, inside his brain, and decided it wanted out. The display was rather disgusting, and Nero looked away.

    Nero¡¯s eyes fell on the remnants of the shattered helm and saw the cracks where it had failed to break apart.

    It¡¯s not made of metal.

    It was a dull and ultimately useless thought, but at least it allowed Nero to think of something that wasn¡¯t his current predicament for at least half a moment.

    ¡°Are you alright son?¡± Aix¡¯s eyes fell on him with concern.

    ¡°Ah, Atix, you¡¯re early.¡± Nero groaned, mind snapping back to the man. ¡°Should have taken the time to pour yourself a drink or something first before coming to save me, I think I have a few ribs left.¡±

    ¡°Alright enough to have an attitude, then.¡± He sighed in relief and helped him up to his feet.. ¡°I was on an impromptu patrol when I heard, came over to the library to find you, didn¡¯t see you.¡±

    ¡°Yes, I was¡­¡± Nero hesitated, he remembered the girl¡¯s scream, he remembered running. ¡°Alisan¡¯s dead, Mercury got to her, she¡¯s dead, she¡¯s dead and it¡¯s my fault, it¡¯s my-¡±

    ¡°She died protecting you then.¡± Atix nodded, stoic and with a hint of pride in his eyes, mingled in with pain. ¡°Good, she would have had it no other way.¡± He looked at Nero like a veterinarian might a dog. ¡°Can you run?¡± He said, already making his way to the door.

    Nero tried and managed a pained limp. ¡°Yes but-¡±

    ¡°Not fast enough.¡± Atix said, grabbing Nero and throwing him over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. Despite the situation he couldn¡¯t help but feel a little bit emasculated.

    ¡°The main force has breached the front gate, we have to head up to the tower.¡± Atix informed him. Nero hadn¡¯t seen any convenient exits at the top of the tower, but far be it from him to question the man currently saving his life.

    Atix stepped out into the hallway, it was a war zone. Inquisitors battled Knights, killed and died, screamed and roared. The scent of cooked meat hit Nero¡¯s nostrils, the sight of a burning corpse told him it was human flesh he was smelling.

    Atix ran through the hallway, cutting down the white armoured men in his way like a butcher slaughtering cows.

    So the white ones are weaker than the red one.

    Hardly a thing to be focusing on at the moment, but yet again, it was a welcome distraction.

    Atix roared as he opened up a man¡¯s throat and Nero heard the enemy¡¯s bubbly gurgle as they fell to their knees.

    He stepped over the corpse, moved to carry on and then suddenly stopped moving.

    Nero found the reason ahead and it made his blood run cold.

    ¡°It¡¯s him¡­¡± Ember trembled. ¡°It¡¯s him again.¡±

    Mercury stood at the other side of the hallway, rapier dripping with Inquisitorial blood.

    His eyes lit up with recognition at Nero. A grin split his lips to reveal needle-like fangs. ¡°Oh, I know you, you¡¯re the one who ran while I tortured poor little girl, a shame I thought you Inquisitors had honour, I guess standards have dropped over the last couple hundred years.¡±

    Mercury moved, and Nero was anticipating it, still he could only glimpse him as nothing but a blur rapidly approaching him. He couldn¡¯t dodge him, but Atix could.

    The man shifted his footing, dodged and brought his blade down at the back of Mercury¡¯s neck.

    Mercury slid out of the way like oil and then the fight was over.

    Atix stood, frozen.

    ¡°A¡­ a feint..¡± The dying man croaked.

    Nero hadn¡¯t seen when Mercury stabbed his sword through his chest and he doubted even Atix had. It didn¡¯t matter, regardless, the Demon was too fast for him to get out of the way in time.

    ¡°Huh¡­ That lasted longer than I¡¯d expected, good on you.¡± Mercury said as if the ending of a man¡¯s life was some idle curiosity.

    ¡°Atix!¡± Ember screamed helplessly.

    Atix fell to his knees, and held himself up only by his hands.

    Nero landed on the ground shortly after. This wasn¡¯t a fight, it wasn¡¯t even a slaughter, it was a man coming across a particularly large rat. There was no contest, none at all, which meant Mercury could end both of their lives whenever he wanted, the bastard just enjoyed seeing them suffer.

    Rage boiled within him like fire. Nero got to his feet and sent a fist flying for Mercury¡¯s face. The Demon wasn¡¯t there when it landed and Nero didn¡¯t know what sent him to the floor. All he knew was that he was on his back, his head ached and the world was spinning.

    ¡°Be quiet child,¡± The Demon said. ¡°I¡¯ll have my fun with you later, It¡¯s rare to see an Inquisitor so spineless, you might be the first I can extract some useful information from.¡± He said, sounding amused.

    A stream of fire shot through the air above Nero and towards Mercury. For all his speed, the Demon was in a tight corridor so there wasn¡¯t much room to move.

    The ball of fire slammed into him, exploding on impact and swallowing all sight of the Demon.

    Nero looked up to see the Inquisitor responsible with their hands splayed out and another ball of fire coalescing above his hand. He was looking past him and towards Atix. ¡°Get him to safety, I¡¯ll hold him back for as long as I can.¡± The man hissed.

    Atix roared as he got to his feet. He was pale, wearing a sheen of sweat and had a large patch of wet blood on his chest where he was stabbed through.

    He picked up his sword in one hand and Nero in the other. The race to the stairs was a blur and Nero only knew it ended when he saw purple skies up above him.

    Atix shut the door behind them and set Nero down onto his feet. The man was panting, his eyes were foggy and he looked like he barely knew where his feet were half the time. ¡°We¡¯re here. The next part¡­ The next part is not going to be easy.¡±

    Nero looked around for some kind of escape but found none. ¡°H-how are we going to get down from here.¡±

    Atix sheathed his sword, walked up to Nero, grabbed him by the shoulder and once again picked him up. This time it was in a hug. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Nero,¡± Atix said, the man was wheezing now. Trickles of blood ran down his chin, bubbling from behind his lips with every breath He was dying, Nero knew it and by the look in his eyes Atix had known it the moment he was stabbed. ¡°It¡¯s the only way, you have to survive.¡±

    ¡°What?¡± Nero shook his head, panic setting in. Atix¡¯s hold was tight. ¡°What¡¯s the only way?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Atix said as he began running towards the edge of the roof.

    ¡°Nero what¡¯s happening?¡± Ember asked, confused and scared.

    ¡°Wait.¡± Nero began. ¡°Just wait a second, there¡¯s another way, I¡¯m sure of it, just give me the chance to think, just give me-¡±

    ¡°Ember,¡± He interrupted, voice grim. ¡°Remember, Ember is the key to all of this.¡±

    ¡°Wait!¡± He screamed.

    But Atix had already leapt off and they were falling through the air with the ground rapidly approaching.

 Chapter 5: Abyss.

    Chapter 5: - Abyss.

    Nero woke up groaning. His sides hurt, his head rang and his entire body felt like it had been put through a wall while he was unconscious.

    ¡°You¡¯re awake!¡± Ember chimed, relief filling her voice.

    ¡°I¡­ I guess I am.¡± He said. Nero placed a hand to his throbbing head and felt something wet. He winced at the stinging sensation that followed. Shit. He was bleeding from a gash there.

    He rolled up to his knees and felt something underneath him. It was Atix. His eyes were open but they gazed up emptily at the sky. Nero knew he was dead, but he checked his pulse anyway to confirm.

    Nothing.

    ¡°Is he¡­?¡± Ember asked, voice soft.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Nero swallowed.

    ¡°No¡­¡± Ember croaked.

    Atix was dead and he was alone. A better man might have been overcome with grief, but Nero could only really focus on the terror that now plagued him.

    He looked around to find himself surrounded by a forest of large dark trees. From where he stood, it seemed there was no end in sight, and the wide leaves created a canopy that barely allowed any of the moon¡¯s light to trickle through.

    Okay Nero, calm down, we just need a plan. He let the fear run its course, his hands were shaking, his stomach was turning and his throat was tight. This is just the body¡¯s reaction to stimuli, He told himself. No different from a bruise or a punch or bad food making you want to vomit.

    Finally, after what felt like an eternity, Nero gathered his senses.

    Firstly, you¡¯re cold, He noted. He didn¡¯t notice it until now but the nights in this place had a vicious chill to them. He could see his breath hanging in the air as mist, feel his body tremble as the freezing air snaked through the threads of his cloth and bit into his skin.

    He would die here if he didn¡¯t get something to cover himself with.

    The answer to his problem was obvious, and he didn¡¯t like how quickly it came to him.

    Nero looked down at Atix¡¯s corpse and began to strip it. He¡¯d need the weapon and the chainmail too he realised, if Hell was as dangerous as he was starting to think it would be, then mail and a sword might be the only thing that could save him from a grizzly death.

    ¡°Nero, what are you doing?¡± Ember asked, distress clear and unhidden.

    ¡®Looting the corpse of your recently deceased friend?¡¯ Well he could hardly say that, not because it wasn¡¯t true but because it simply sounded like what a villain would do. ¡°Can¡¯t talk right now Ember, busy.¡±

    He was having issues actually removing the chainmail from the man¡¯s body. Undressing mediaeval men wasn¡¯t exactly common practice back on earth. Not anymore at least.

    ¡°Nero.¡± Ember started again. He ignored her.

    He undid the man¡¯s leather belt and found the material suddenly freer. Fuck, finally. All he had to do was take it off like a normal shirt now.

    ¡°Nero, there are people coming!¡± Ember yelled.

    So single minded was Nero, that he hadn¡¯t registered the sound of footsteps approaching.

    He looked behind him and could just about see two figures making their way through the trees.

    Nero resisted the urge to immediately run and began affixing Atix¡¯s belt back onto his corpse. There was no hope of him undoing the chainmail in time, Atix was simply too heavy, so this was the only thing he could do.

    ¡°Nero, what are you doing? You should be hiding!¡± Ember urged.

    ¡°Can¡¯t leave the corpse like this.¡± He whsipered. A corpse with a belt unbuckled would hint at a looting interrupted midway. That could only mean that there was an Inquisitor still alive and Nero didn¡¯t quite fancy the idea of being hunted.

    The footsteps were getting closer now. He hesitated, knew he was forgetting to do something but couldn¡¯t for the life of him remember what it was.

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember yelled and that had him moving.

    He dashed to the side and rolled behind a felled tree.

    Nero had barely landed when the pair of white armoured warriors came into view.

    ¡°Told you there¡¯d be one this far out, these crazy types would rather leap from a building and die than answer a couple questions.¡± The smaller of the two said, as if it were all terribly amusing.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, just hurry up and grab his shit. Last thing we want is to keep Lord Mercury waiting. I like my balls safely secured within my sack and would like to avoid anything that might jeopardise that status quo.¡± The bigger man grunted.

    The other soldier crouched down, and Nero watched as he began to loot Atix¡¯s corpse. First he took the chainmail, the leather underneath, his boots, and then finally he unsheathed his blade. He didn¡¯t bother being gentle, just broke what needed breaking to get everything off the old man. Ember whimpered.

    The bigger man snatched the sword from his companion greedily. ¡°Fuck, look at the runing on this thing, definitely gonna sell for a lot.¡±

    Nero felt his stomach turn and his frustration boil. That was what he was forgetting. Should have grabbed the fucking sword! He clenched his fists impotently and watched with rage shot squarely at himself when the man sheathed the weapon.

    ¡°Hey, I found it!¡± The smaller said.

    ¡°Yes.¡± The other soldier replied. ¡°And I didn¡¯t beat you senseless to take it for myself the moment you did. So I think the debts¡¯ been paid.¡± He turned and began heading off into the dark.

    ¡°Arsehole.¡± The smaller whispered before following behind.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Atix¡¯s corpse was left with nothing but the flimsy fabric he wore underneath his armour. It was a far cry from what he had hoped for but he¡¯d be a fool not to take it.

    Or perhaps simply a better person than he is.

    He waited until he could no longer hear their footsteps then crouched down in front of the dead man. Nero took a deep breath.¡°Ember¡­ turn around.¡±

    ¡°Nero-¡± She began.

    ¡°Just turn around, please.¡± He begged, and to his relief she did,

    Nero made quick work of stripping Atix of his shirt and trousers. He let his mind dissociate, so it felt like he wasn¡¯t really him, he was simply observing someone else do this. His heart still broke seeing what the other bastards had done to it.

    Once done, Nero wore the man¡¯s clothes on top of his. It was far from comfortable but the largeness of them combined with the extra layer of fabric did something to stave off the heat.

    That something was little, Nero knew, but it was something nonetheless. Might buy me an extra minute of two before I freeze to death.

    He gave one final look at the man¡¯s bloody corpse and with two fingers, pulled down his eyelids.

    Nero got to his feet with a sigh and stepped deeper into the forest.

    ¡°What are we going to do Nero?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know¡­¡± He told her honestly, hollowly.

    The nearest town was seven days away, and he had planned to get there with the help of a map, a sack full of food and his body in peak condition.

    Now he would be forced to make it with nothing, in the freezing cold, and a body that screamed in agony with each step he took.

    Nero set off in the direction of the town. It was a hopeless endeavour, he was shivering, limping, practically a dead man already, but there was nothing else to do, so he kept on at it.

    Nero continued to walk, even as his teeth clattered and his feet throbbed. He didn¡¯t know how long or how far he had walked, it couldn¡¯t have been much, and yet it felt like he¡¯d done nothing else in his life but that.

    He could hear chattering, howling, growling and a myriad of other sounds flowing out from the shadows. He didn¡¯t want to imagine the kind of creatures responsible for them, lurking in the dark, waiting for him to stumble upon them. But his mind had nowhere left to wonder but there.

    Something caught his foot and he fell hard on the ground.

    It should have been a minor annoyance, but today it was the straw that broke the camel¡¯s back.

    Nero¡¯s frustration bubbled over and flowed past the edges of his mind. Should have taken the sword before I left, should have taken the sword, should have taken the sword. He didn¡¯t know when he began hitting the ground, but he kept on going. Punching it, over and over again even as his knuckles poured with blood and his fist screamed in pain.

    He was stuck here, in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by monsters and simply awaiting a terrible death. It didn¡¯t matter what he did, didn¡¯t matter how smart he was, it was hopeless.

    ¡°Nero¡­¡± Ember called out, concern lacing her voice.

    ¡°I should have taken the goodman sword!¡± He roared. He was trembling, not just from the cold, he felt like his entire being was coming apart at the seams. Tears ran down his cheek, Nero clutched his head desperately, as if that might help him keep his wits about him. ¡°I should have taken the sword¡­¡± He croaked, voice cracked.

    Ember floated in front of him, eyes wide with distress. ¡°What would that have changed Nero?¡± She asked.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t know, everything.¡± He replied. ¡°I just¡­ fuck!¡±

    It would have changed nothing, he knew it, she knew it and yet he still tormented himself.

    Nero sighed, and rolled onto his back. His teachers¡­ They said he was brilliant, destined to do amazing things.

    He could have done anything, gone into the sciences, arts if he wanted to. But I picked business school. He laughed and coughed, throat sore. Because it was easy¡­

    It was easy when I fucked people over, it was easy when I got a pat on the back and a million dollar bonus for ruining entire lives. He was numb now, barely able to feel his fingers. What¡¯s that, wanna dump toxic waste ten miles off from a low income neighbourhood? Have Nero handle the paperwork, he¡¯s your guy. Falsely advertise medication, he¡¯s your guy, get out of paying insurance, don¡¯t wanna pay your taxes? And so on, and so on.

    His eyelids felt so heavy now, he could barely keep them open.

    He didn¡¯t know what exactly it was he did to make that man walk up to him and blow his brains out¡­ But I know that I deserved it. And now the world has one less him in it. Which is good, because people like me, don''t deserve to live, We just don¡¯t.

    Ember¡¯s voice was a soft whisper now. ¡°Nero, you¡¯re dying, stand up Nero.¡±

    By all accounts, he shouldn¡¯t have, he should have let the cold take him, he didn¡¯t want to keep going on, the only good thing he could do was let nature turn him into a corpse overnight. There was a reason he urged himself to move however and he heard it yet again.

    ¡°Please, Nero, get up!¡± Ember begged.

    She¡¯d already lost Atix, she¡¯d seen so many Inquisitors die. You¡¯re all she has left. For once in your life, don¡¯t be a selfish prick, you don¡¯t get to die here, you haven¡¯t fucking earned that right.

    Nero gathered the dying flames of his strength, clenched his fist and rolled up onto his knees with a groan. ¡°Do you ever¡­. Shut up?¡± He sighed.

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember beamed. Flames burning brighter than he¡¯d ever seen her.

    He winced at her volume. ¡°So that¡¯s a no then, neat.¡± He took a painful step forward and then another. ¡°Come on, there¡¯s got to be a cave somewhere here.¡±

    Soon Nero was walking again, he wasn¡¯t enjoying it by any means but he was doing it. ¡°Seven days¡­¡± He whispered to himself. ¡°I¡¯ve just gotta survive seven days in this fucking place.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s just seven.¡± Ember nodded happily. ¡°Do you know how many seven days have passed without you even noticing, it¡¯ll be over in a heartbeat.¡±

    Nero smiled, rolling his eyes. ¡°You can talk when you¡¯re physically affected by the cold.¡±

    The Imp laughed and Nero felt for the first time, like less of a piece of shit than he typically did.

    Up above, something moved from the corner of his eye. Nero let himself fall backwards, as jumping wasn¡¯t an option. He was barely out of the way when the figure hit the ground.

    He rolled onto his feet and rested his back against a tree.

    Standing in front of him was a thing of nightmares. Eight eyed and eight legged, the spider was large enough that its head reached as high as his hip. With black fur, it blended in well with the dark.

    ¡°What the fuck is that?¡± Nero whispered.

    ¡°A Sin Spinner Spider.¡± Ember replied. ¡°Very deadly venom.¡±

    ¡°Ah, well awesome.¡± Nero said while masterfully managing not to shit himself at the sight of the monster.

    It stalked him, its too-many eyes affixed to his form even as it moved to try and circle around him. Nero reached up and grabbed a branch from the tree above him. He broke it off and swung the weight in his hands. Surprisingly, the spider fell back, fearful of the blows.

    I can take it. He told himself. I can take it.

    Four more spiders dropped down behind the creature with barely a sound made.

    Nero knew, there was simply no hope in taking five.

 Chapter 6: Prometheus.

    Chapter 6: - Prometheus.

    Nero hadn¡¯t been in too many fights, but he knew the basics. Hit the other guy until he can¡¯t hit you back anymore. The issue was that most fights he¡¯d seen were against other humans, with four limbs and not eight. Also they were one on ones and not one versus five.

    All things considered, he¡¯d be needing to do a fair bit of improvising here.

    With a roar he swung the branch in a wide arc in front of him. He had hoped to scare off the Sin Spinners as he had the first. Courage bolstered by numbers, they barely even looked phased.

    One moved in on him and Nero swung the branch at its face with all his might. To his surprise, awe and relief, it struck. To his horror, the wood shattered into splinters on impact. It did however have the effect of pissing off the spider, which let out a high pitched squeal. It wasn¡¯t hurt however, or at least it didn¡¯t look it.

    The other four were moving in now.

    Makes sense, they¡¯ve seen the extent of their prey¡¯s defences and weren¡¯t impressed.

    He was going to die here, and that boiled him with rage. He should have just laid there, let the cold take him and be over with it. Why did it have to come just when things were beginning to look up for him?

    I suppose this place really is Hell. He almost laughed.

    The spiders had encircled him now, there was no hope of escape. Nero grit his teeth, took a deep breath then let it all out with a roar. If he was to die, he¡¯d die fighting, maybe, just maybe he¡¯d be able to pluck out one of their eyes before this was over. ¡°Come at me then, finish the fucking job!¡±

    But they didn¡¯t. The spiders all took a step or two back, a simple man might have thought they were scared of his voice, but it was clear something else was going on.

    ¡°Nero.¡± Ember whispered with hope.

    He followed her gaze to find his palm alight with the same smokey golden aura that seemed to make up her form. For a moment he thought his hand was on fire and waited for the pain to hit, but only a soft warm tingle met him in its place.

    Nero blinked. ¡°Huh¡­ that¡¯s¡­ that¡¯s new.¡±

    Out of the corner of his eye, a spider leapt at him and Nero swung for the creature, flaming hand coming down hard on its face and sending it flying.

    It disappeared into the dark before Nero even heard it hit the ground, body thumping softly, squeal escaping sharply.

    ¡°I.. Holy shit, I didn¡¯t know I could hit that hard.¡± He stared off into the distance with awe.

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember screamed.

    It was just in time for him to catch sight of the remaining four moving in on him. Despite his new trick, Nero wasn¡¯t quite certain it¡¯d be enough to get him through this without dying. After all, so close to the ground, the Spiders were at the perfect height to make punching them a pain in the ass.

    One dashed at him, scuttering along the ground with a speed to match the armoured soldier that Atix beheaded. They¡¯re treating me like a real threat now, not good.

    It leapt at him, but Nero found that he was out of the way just before its attack had landed. Somehow, he¡¯d dodged it.

    Its friends came in next, leaping, biting and squealing at him with each of their attacks and yet Nero found that he¡¯d flowed away from all of them.

    His hands were shaking, his heart was drumming. At first he¡¯d thought it was adrenaline, but now he knew it was something else, something foreign flowing through his veins.

    Again, a spider came for him and Nero slid out of the way, this time not before a claw tipped leg caught his thigh and opened up the skin there. Shit!

    The bleeding wasn¡¯t severe, only a small trickle of blood ran down his leg, but it told him two very important things.

    These spiders were not to be taken lightly, and he couldn''t dodge them forever.

    Emboldened, another sprung into action, keeping low to stay out of range of his most dangerous asset. That meant he couldn¡¯t rely on his new magical glowing hand to get him out of this one.

    Nero didn¡¯t know what possessed him to throw a kick at the thing, but he did. His foot tore through the air and cracked into the side of the closest spider¡¯s body like an anvil against glass.

    He heard its squeak of pain as it was lifted off the ground and sent rolling into the dirt. It came to a stop soon after, not going nearly as far as the one he had previously hit did. Nero was fairly sure he¡¯d not been able to kick like that on earth.

    So, whatever this is, it¡¯s increased not just my speed but my strength too. He looked at the spider begin to limp back into the fight.

    Sill, it¡¯s better if I get them with the weird light in my hand.

    Simultaneously, the remaining three sprang into action just as Nero was beginning to gather his bearings. He moved a moment after they did.

    The closest clashed with him first and he met it with a kick to the side, it dodged, jumping right into his golden blow. The beast shot towards the ground and slammed into its friend with enough force to topple them both over.

    Nero was fast now, faster than he ever was, but he wasn''t fast enough. The third had jumped onto his knee, claws dug into his skin and Nero saw it open its mouth to sink that deadly venom into his veins.

    Fucker!

    He ignored the pain that tormented him and slammed his knee into a tree with malice. Nero felt something give within the monster with a crunch, and green fluids leaked from its orifices like juice from a burst fruit. It fell limply to the ground. Twitching.

    Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

    He turned; only two remained now, the two he hadn¡¯t hit with his glowing hand. Both were limping and orbiting him with caution.

    Nero was panting, heaving, his body felt like it was on fire- no, he felt like he was the fire. ¡°Come on, let¡¯s fucking finish this!¡± He roared at them.

    The creatures seemed to have other ideas on how they wanted this fight to end, for they limped away from him as fast as their injured forms could manage and slunk into the night.

    That strange energy still coursed through Nero, telling him to chase them into the dark and rip them limb from limb. He ignored it, though it was quite a tempting proposition.

    Once he knew in his heart of hearts that the fight was over, the flame died in his palm. Nero slumped against a tree, took a deep breath and slid down into a sitting position. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± He asked Ember.

    The imp floated in front of him, a strange expression on her face. ¡°Light Breathing¡­ I think.¡±

    Nero took a deep breath. ¡°Light Breathing¡­¡± He repeated softly. ¡°And you didn¡¯t think to tell me I could do that, ever?¡± He asked, hearing the edge to his voice, it could have saved him from torture, saved Alisan and Atix from death.

    Ember flinched back like she¡¯d been struck. She shook her head guiltily. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you could¡­ Didn¡¯t know what it was¡­ Things weren¡¯t clear before, they still aren¡¯t¡­ I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m sorry.¡± Her voice was barely higher than a whisper.

    Nero sighed. ¡°It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s okay.¡± He told her, biting back his guilt. There was a lot he didn¡¯t understand, but that wasn¡¯t her fault. He grinned. ¡°I showed those guys, didn''t I.¡±

    ¡°You were okay.¡± Ember smiled back smugly, eyes suddenly bright again. ¡°But, I think we both know who the real star of the show was if we¡¯re being honest.¡±

    ¡°You?¡± Nero scoffed.

    She feigned bashfulness. ¡°Oh Nero, you¡¯re too kind.¡±

    ¡°The hypothermia must really be getting to me, cause I can¡¯t seem to remember the part where you did anything.¡±

    Ember lifted a finger. ¡°There were all those times I warned you n¡¯ stuff, do you think it''s easy for someone with as tiny vocal cords as mine to yell ¡®Nero!¡¯ every three minutes.¡±

    ¡°Do you even have vocal cords?¡± He raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°That¡¯s not the point!¡± She said, strict as a teacher. ¡°And then it was also me who told you the Spiders were venomous.¡±

    ¡°Negligible,¡± He waved a dismissive hand. ¡°It¡¯s hell, I would be surprised if they didn¡¯t have aids too.¡±

    Ember huffed, folding her arms. ¡°You¡¯re ungrateful.¡±

    ¡°That is one of my many redeeming qualities, yes.¡± He groaned and pushed himself up to his feet. ¡°Now if you¡¯ll excuse me, I¡¯d like to go back to freezing my balls off.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯re excused.¡± She said, flitting off behind him. He¡¯d noticed that she either didn¡¯t want to or couldn¡¯t go off further than about a ten metre radius away from him. Likely the latter since she didn¡¯t immediately zoom off to look for a cave for us.

    He walked over to the corpse of the spider he hit with his magic. Nero could see that the spot where he had struck it still burnt with a bright golden energy. It ate away at the flesh, like acid through paper. He raised a hand above it and could feel heat from the burn rise up and lick his flesh.

    ¡°Light Breathing magic is anathema to Demons.¡± Ember said from above him.

    ¡°I thought Demons looked like Mercury did, with horns and stuff.¡± He said, careful to keep the terror of recalling everything that monster did away from his mind.

    Ember floated down, frowning in what looked like deep thought. ¡°They¡¯re both Demons¡­I¡­ I think.¡± She said finally, looking defeated. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Nero, it¡¯s hard to¡­ Remember things.¡±

    It was an oddly disturbing thing to observe, she looked like she both simultaneously knew the answer and didn¡¯t have a clue what the question even meant. He chose not to dwell on it, perhaps he could help her remember. ¡°Are you trying to say every living thing native to Hell is technically a Demon?¡±

    Ember smiled. ¡°Yes, yes!¡± She nodded. ¡°And- and Mercury is a higher Demon.¡±

    ¡°Just like humans are higher animals, makes sense.¡± He nodded. That makes me anathema to everything here. Nero noticed himself shivering again. It didn¡¯t matter that he now had cool magic powers, that wouldn¡¯t save him from freezing to death.

    Unless it did.

    ¡°I¡¯ve got an idea!¡± He sprung to his feet.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Ember asked eagerly.

    He scoffed. ¡°I¡¯m not going to tell you.¡± He said, pulling down the branches of a tree.

    ¡°Why?¡± She asked and he could feel her pouting glare burning into the back of his skull.

    ¡°Because you¡¯re just going to take credit for it.¡± He grinned.

    ¡°Oh, you¡¯re going to try using Light Breathing to start a campfire.¡± Ember guessed.

    Nero turned around to face her with a bundle of sticks and leaves in his arms. ¡°Eat shit Ember.¡± He huffed while she giggled. Nero placed them on the ground and sat down in front of it.

    ¡°Okay,¡± he took a deep breath. ¡°Now I just have to remember how I set my hand on fire.¡± He stared intently at his palm. ¡°I do not remember how I set my hand on fire.¡±

    Ember smirked. ¡°Try to put yourself in the same headspace you were in when you first did it.¡±

    ¡°Oh, that would have been my second guess.¡± He replied. ¡°Alright, so let¡¯s see, I was angry, terrified and nearly pissing myself in anticipation of a horrific death- god that sounds horrible, I don¡¯t want to do that again.¡±

    Ember shrugged. ¡°Do you want to do that, or do you want to freeze to death?¡±

    ¡°Do you want to do that, or do you want to freeze to death?¡± Nero repeated in a high pitched nasally voice. Because he was mature like that.

    Ember gasped as if he¡¯d committed blasphemy. ¡°That is not how I sound Nero, you take that back, right this very instant- '''' He tuned her out and focused on drawing in his magic.

    Nero thought back to the desperation he felt when the Sin Spinners came for him, the powerlessness. He felt nothing.

    He tugged on the fear. Nothing.

    Finally he brushed the anger, the rage, the decision he made to go down fighting. Nero gasped, his heart raced and his palm burned with a now familiar bright golden light.

    He lowered his hand into the pile of wood and leaves. It began to eat through them like it ate through the Sin Spinner. It seemed trees due to being native here were also under the classification of Demons. A problem loomed however, no fire came with the burning, only warmth.

    Piss and shit!

    As disheartening as it felt, it made sense now that he thought about it. It wasn¡¯t a fire but a substance that reacted with Demonic matter to give off heat. That meant it couldn¡¯t set things aflame. But it should be able to start a reaction that will. All he needed was enough fuel.

    He gathered more leaves until they were a small heap and placed his hand on top of them. ¡°Come on, come on¡­¡± Nero saw a glow, orange not golden like his magic. It was a small thing, fragile but growing and spreading across the leaves. He¡¯d done it, he¡¯d made a fire.

    ¡°We did it!¡± Ember grinned.

 Chapter 7: Bigger Fish.

    Chapter 7: - Bigger Fish.

    Nero woke up to find that the horrible dream he¡¯d had about being trapped in Hell and hunted by Demons was, in fact, very much real. That set the tone for the rest of his day and it was not exactly one of glee.

    ¡°Finally, you¡¯re awake!¡± Ember beamed.

    He rubbed his head, it still throbbed in agony, much like the rest of his body. ¡°Good morning Ember.¡± He groaned.

    ¡°I have no idea why you humans sleep, you know, it¡¯s really tedious to have you suddenly unconscious for hours at a time.¡± She continued, floating up to a branch and sitting on it.

    ¡°Good morning to you too Nero. How¡¯re you feeling? Thank god you didn¡¯t freeze to death last night.¡±

    Ember rolled her eyes. ¡°Ugh, stop being so dramatic.¡±

    Nero sighed. His fire was out now, which was good, because the mornings were more than hot enough.

    He climbed up to his feet and felt all the angles of his body convulse with pain. Nero groaned and forced himself to stretch ¡°Alright then, time to start my day.¡±

    Priority number one was his new magical powers. He needed to figure out more about them while he wasn¡¯t actively in the heat of battle. Had he known what he did now a day early-

    No, he¡¯d not be thinking about that.

    ¡°So, how hard can I hit?¡± He stepped up to a tree, rolled his wrist and flexed his fingers. ¡°For control, I¡¯m going to throw a punch without drawing in any magic, then I¡¯m going to throw one after drawing in magic and finally I¡¯ll throw one with the light coating my hand.¡±

    Ember looked down at him. ¡°That all sounds rather boring.¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s called the scientific process; coined, designed and refined by a bunch of old dead racists. Of course it¡¯s boring. But it¡¯s effective.¡± He sighed.

    He pulled his arm back and slammed a fist into the tree.

    His knuckles dug into the bark, a stab of pain answering them. But his fist still dented the damned thing, leaving an imprint at least an inch or two deep and about as wide across as his hand. He could even make out where individual knuckles had dug in.

    He blinked. ¡°Huh.¡±

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember growled. ¡°If you could already punch that hard on your own, why didn¡¯t you do that before?!¡±

    ¡°Because I couldn¡¯t do that before you oik.¡± He shot back. Nero pulled his fist back and stared at his knuckles. He flexed them, expecting a twinge of pain, but there was nothing. It was like he¡¯d hit a pillow. ¡°So I guess this is just my strength now?¡±

    Unless I can actually hit harder still just by channelling that light.

    Nero let his mind slip back to that place of instinct and survival. The adrenal rush filled him once more, but this time he was expecting it. After a few seconds his hand was soon alight with the bright golden hue.

    He stepped up to another tree and hit it with his not-glowing hand. The results were the same as before. He swallowed the disappointment, he quite liked the idea of being even stronger.

    So, whatever happened yesterday¡¯s given me a permanent increase to my strength. Probably speed too and hopefully reaction time. I will have to test those out later.

    Nero walked over to a third tree. Now for the moment of truth. He pulled his glowing hand back and slammed his fist into the hard bark. It hit with a furious force, smashing a short gouge out right across its width and sending a spray of wood spitting outwards as his fist punched through it.

    ¡°Holy shit.¡± The tree shook slightly, he thought, and dark shapes emerged from its leaves to take off into the sky. That got Nero thinking. The destroyed section wasn¡¯t that big, really, but¡­

    He punched again, and again. Ten times, twenty. Each impact sent another fistful of bark and plant tissue spraying away, and before long he¡¯d almost bisected the trunk. It groaned, shivered, then fell with a crunch.

    He stepped up to the fallen tree and examined the ruined part of it. He could see the golden energy of his fist continue to eat away at the bark, like acid clinging to the tissue.

    ¡°So, much harder with this thing then.¡± He muttered, looking at his glowing hand.

    Finally he walked up to a boulder to the side of the tree. Nero hit it, and in a shocking turn of events found that his hand hurt after punching a surface of solid stone. It hurt a lot in fact. Bits of the rock came away, tiny chips, but the pain really was something and he stumbled back yelping. Not invincible then, just¡­less vincible. Well he knew that already. What about with his Light Breathing?

    The second blow, this time wreathed in golden light, did more to the rock, but not by a lot. A crack spread along its surface spanning maybe a few inches, and more flakes of stone broke away. And his hand hurt. Less than before, but still it hurt.

    Seems my Light is still effective against non-demonic matter, however less so.

    ¡°I wonder what¡¯ll happen if I punch myself in the face with it.¡±

    ¡°Please don¡¯t accidentally kill yourself Nero.¡± Ember said as if she were talking to a toddler.

    ¡°If you insist,¡± He replied, disappointed. He snuffed the light out with a thought and felt his stomach grumble. With a grimace, Nero clenched his jaw. ¡°I¡¯ve got other things to worry about anyway. Like the fact that I¡¯m hungry.¡±

    ¡°Oh, well there¡¯s the Sin Spinners!¡± She suggested eagerly.

    ¡°Can¡¯t, they''re venomous.¡± Nero sighed.

    ¡°Ah, yeah, uhm, don¡¯t eat poison.¡± She nodded.

    Nero shook his head. ¡°Venomous, not poisonous, normally it should be safe for ingesting just not injecting. I¡¯m not a biologist but last I checked it had something to do with the size of molecules relative to the cells,¡± he explained.

    ¡°Ah, well I followed about half of that.¡± Ember shrugged. ¡°But now I¡¯m confused as to why you can¡¯t eat it,¡±

    ¡°Well, a certain red armoured bastard smacked me around enough that I probably have a gash in my mouth now.¡± He nearly hissed and found a hint of satisfaction in knowing that Atix had relieved the bastard of his head. ¡°Not to mention that I was coughing up blood yesterday, and my guts still feel like that tree looks. Can¡¯t risk the venom getting into my bloodstream that way, the effects would be no different than if I was actually bit.¡±

    ¡°Oh,¡± Ember nodded. ¡°There must be something we can do.¡±

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    Nero picked up a sturdy looking stick and snapped it off at the tip so it had a sharp edge. ¡°I could try and eat the parts where the venom isn¡¯t, but I don¡¯t know all that much about spider biology or if this thing''s biology is similar to any spider back on earth. I think I read somewhere that snakes secrete their venom from a gland in their mouth, but again, not sure and those are earth snakes not Hell spiders. I¡¯d rather not take the chance if I don¡¯t have to.¡±

    ¡°You could try fruits?¡± Ember suggested.

    Nero tested the weight of the stick in his hand. ¡°We¡¯re in a forest, not a farm. I could be wrong, again this is Hell, not earth but my guess is most of the fruits here haven¡¯t been selectively pressured for human consumption.¡±

    ¡°What does that mean?¡± Ember asked, frowning in thought.

    That gave Nero pause. ¡°Uh, hard to explain, just know that practically all edible fruits are man made and back on earth it¡¯s gotten so bad that you can own a seed type that other people aren¡¯t allowed to use.¡±

    ¡°That sounds horrible.¡± Ember blinked.

    Nero shrugged. ¡°Point is the fruits here are either extremely lacking in nutrition at best or poisonous at worst.¡±

    ¡°So, what can we do?¡±

    ¡°Well, you seem to know the animals here well enough.¡± Nero grinned. ¡°I say we go hunting.¡±

    Ember, it seemed, did know animals. After a few hours of familiarising himself with common wildlife, they¡¯d decided that their best option was a Crimson Centipede. Nero didn¡¯t like the sound of that at all, having never been a fan of eating bugs, but the other options were animals called things like soul splitter and mind cutter.

    Well, those names were non-starters, so bug-hunting it was. That didn¡¯t actually prepare him for when he actually found one,

    They were twice the length of a man, and about the width of his stomach.

    Nero came at it with his fist, and the whole gory affair was over soon enough.

    Thick with the taste of sulphur, the centipede made faeces taste like gourmet food, but it didn¡¯t make him sick or kill him so for the next few days that was what he ate.

    The trek was not uneventful, in fact it was overflowing with events. If the word ¡®event¡¯ meant creatures born from satan''s arsehole trying to murder him.

    There was a lot of running, a lot of hiding, and Nero was half-certain he had actually wet himself on the fifth day, when he came across a Face Eater. It was a creature shaped like a bat, but twice his size and with blood red eyes.

    It had loomed over him, like a tower of shadows. In its maw, was the terrified face of the last person it had eaten. Their final desperate expression immortalised in the mouth of the creature who killed them.

    That one, Nero had only managed to get away from by holing up into a small cave and punching its face as hard as he could manage when it tried to squeeze through. To his terror the thing took his natural like a brick wall would have taken his old ones, but to his relief a golden one was at least hard enough to encourage it to leave him alone.

    From then on, Nero couldn¡¯t shake the feeling that he was being followed by the thing. It had reminded him that this place was still phenomenally dangerous and despite his newfound power, there was very little he could do if lady luck decided it was time to run into a monster he simply couldn¡¯t take or run away from.

    There were several nights when Ember would wake him up because she saw something moving in the shadows, and only half of those times was she wrong. He reckoned he wouldn¡¯t have survived for long without her.

    On the dawn of the seventh day, things were soon looking up for him.

    ¡°That¡¯s it then?¡± Ember asked, smiling brightly.

    ¡°Stradale, yes.¡± The town sat in the distance, perhaps a few hours away now. It was a mostly wooden settlement, roughly mediaeval like he had guessed and he could see smoke leaking out the top of certain buildings. Chimneys.

    Something rustled in the trees behind him, snatching Nero out of his relief and slamming him straight into a moment of alertness. It was a headspace he was quickly getting used to being in.

    A Sin Spinner emerged from the bushes, clawed tips allowing it to move so seamlessly that the monster almost seemed to glide across the earth.

    He was shaking.

    He had faced Sin Spinners before, multiple times in fact, but there was one thing about this one that set it apart from the others.

    ¡°I didn¡¯t know they could grow that big.¡± He swallowed

    A Sin Spinner as large as he was, and with a fury in its eyes that seemed to betray an almost human intellect. It snarled, a sound that Nero recognised instantly, not from the smaller ones he took but from the shadows that seemed to follow him for the past few days.

    ¡°You¡¯ve been tracking me, waiting for the perfect time to strike, but Ember¡¯s been there to warn me every time before you got too close.¡± He realised. Those little bastards I killed were your children and now you¡¯re here for payback.

    Clearly not in the mood of conversation, the creature came for him with blinding speed. Nero only just managed to dodge with a leap. To his horror he realised the creature was almost as fast as he was. And with twice my number of limbs.

    ¡°Can we run?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°Doubt it.¡± He grimaced. It came again and he bathed his hand in golding light. Nero swung but it dodged, immediately weary of it. Far too weary of it. You¡¯ve been watching me, learning my moves.

    He would have been impressed were his life not in danger,

    A blade-sharp leg caught him in the stomach, sending Nero flying and smacking into the side of a tree. He hadn''t even hit the ground when he saw the beast coming for him again. It¡¯d be on him before he did so.

    Nero slammed his foot into the bark and launched himself above the creature. He landed behind it in a chaotic roll and haphazardly got to his feet.

    His belly burned, he¡¯d been cut there and cut bad, but his enemy had no plans to let him assess the damage. It was coming again, and Nero still didn¡¯t have a game plan.

    He ran.

    It wasn¡¯t a good run, already limping and now clutching on a bleeding stomach, he¡¯d be hunted down and killed in seconds.

    Unless he thought of something quick.

    When that something came, however, he didn¡¯t like it one bit.

    He could hear the Spider racing behind, it was almost on him, almost.

    Nero suddenly stopped, let its blade come at him and raised his golden hand to block. It bit into his palm and came out the other side but it was the Spider that snarled in pain.

    Apparently, covering his hand in light didn¡¯t make it that much more durable. But he hadn¡¯t been counting on it to. The spider was stunned as the energy burned it, and Nero used that second to attack.

    With his good hand he grabbed the limb just above its joint, pulled his injured hand out from around the blade and brought it down hard on its leg.

    The creature screamed just like Nero would expect any to at having their limb snapped off. It stumbled backwards on its remaining legs, green blood gushing out of the wound.

    It was his turn to hunt now.

    Nero grabbed the severed limb by the joint and wielded it like a makeshift dagger. He dashed up to the creature, swung his bright fist at its face and revelled in the satisfying crunch that followed the motion.

    It went tumbling and Nero chased after it, but it was soon on its feet before he had gotten to the thing. It swung wildly with its long legs and he was forced to jump back for fear of being opened up. Well, opened up further.

    Another swing came, this one less wild, more calculated, the bastard was on the offensive again and he hadn¡¯t even noticed when it happened.

    Nero caught it with his new dagger; its former leg. The force sent him stumbling regardless and the beast kept on coming.

    One of its fangs hung loosely to the side, dripping with that characteristic green pigment. His punch had broken it, and that gave him some satisfaction.

    The joy was quickly fading however, as the limbs kept on coming, and Nero kept on just barely managing to fend them off, taking nicks, slices as an omen of the death dealing blow that was to come. He was a swordsman facing seven others at once, sooner or later, his luck would run out.

    The only option that remained was to quit sword fighting.

    Another swing came, this time it sent Nero off his feet and rolling on the ground. The Spider sprinted to finish the job. Nero didn¡¯t move, he let it get closer, closer and only when it raised its limbs to skewer him did his plan spring into action.

    With his golden hand, Nero threw his dagger as hard as he could at the creature¡¯s face. It reacted quickly, tilting its head to the side so he missed.

    The blade tore into the spot where its head met its body instead. The Spider stumbled back, confused and dazed as a fountain of green sprayed into the air from the gash.

    It paused, glared at Nero as if vowing to keep on going until its body gave out, and then finally lurching sideways as its legs collapsed underneath it and slamming into the ground.

    Nero crawled to his feet soon after. The world was a blur, his legs felt weak underneath him.

    ¡°Nero, you¡¯re bleeding.¡± Ember warned, her voice sounding like it was coming through water.

    He looked down to see his shirt dripping red. He was losing blood and losing blood quickly. ¡°Yeah.¡± He gasped. ¡°Just need to get to the town....¡± He whispered.

    He just needed to get there, there¡¯d be a doctor or something that should be able to stem the bleeding. That was all he had to do. Just get to the town, get to the town, get to the town.

    Nero had barely taken three steps towards it before he collapsed on the ground and his world fell into darkness.

 Chapter 8: The Hunter.

    Chapter 8: The Hunter.

    Nero woke up, so that was a good sign, his last thoughts were him wondering if he¡¯d ever have the privilege of doing that again.

    That however was where the good news ended. His body still bathed in agony and his head still felt woozy. Nero opened his eyes to find a wooden ceiling where the sky should have been.

    He was in a small room, laying on a bed on the far end of a room. He shifted in place and groaned in pain. His stomach still hurt, he¡¯d nearly forgotten what that eight legged bastard had done to him.

    Well¡­ Now seven legged.

    ¡°Careful not to hurt yourself, Nero.¡± He heard Ember call out and saw her floating above him, concern etched into her face.

    ¡°I¡¯m alive.¡± He sighed. God, how bad must my life be going for that to be the highlight of my day.

    ¡°Where am I?¡± He asked her.

    ¡°Stradale, someone found your unconscious body and patched you up.¡± Ember said.

    ¡°Really?¡± He raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°Yeah, they were a hunter, at least I think they were a hunter. They had a half circle thingy with a string attached and a pointy stick.¡±

    ¡°You mean a bow and arrow?¡± Nero asked.

    Ember scoffed. ¡°Sure, if you want to be verbose.¡±

    ¡°How do you know what verbose means and not-¡± Nero sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. ¡°Okay, so this is their house I¡¯m guessing?¡± He asked.

    Ember nodded. ¡°I think they went out or something.¡±

    ¡°Gotcha¡­¡± Nero nodded and pulled himself up to his feet carefully. He raised his shirt to find a runed bandage wrapped deftly around his stomach. That, it seemed, was what had kept him from bleeding out. There were others around his other nicks and cuts too.

    Nero opened the door and stepped into a room that looked more like an armoury. Weapons laid across tables but most of them were hung up on the wall. For the most part they were clearly made for use at range.

    What struck him however was how modern they looked. They weren¡¯t guns, and he wasn¡¯t an archer, but he knew a compound bow when he saw one. Putting aside the primitive materials, the designs he was seeing could have come right out of the twenty first century.

    ¡°You¡¯re snooping around.¡± Ember whispered, as if at risk of actually being overheard.

    ¡°I¡¯m investigating,¡± He corrected.

    Nero walked over to the wall and lifted the bow carefully free. It looked like something he¡¯d expect to be used in the olympics. Only heavier. Nero pulled back the string to find it was amazingly stiff.

    He reckoned with his enhanced strength he could use it with no problem, but a normal man might have cut his own finger off in the attempt. Which told him that his hunter friend probably had some sort of strength enhancement as well.

    It seemed to be a common facet of Hell. Something in the air, perhaps. Or a consequence of eating things that lived in Hell? He couldn¡¯t use himself as a benchmark- he knew just enough to know he was something of an outlier with what he could do- which left his opportunities for logical reasoning irritatingly scarce.

    Nero¡¯s eyes were caught by the runes on the bow and its string, similar to those he saw on Atix¡¯s sword. The symbols were different, not that he could read them, but he assumed that meant something.

    Nero stepped over to a drawer, pulled it out and found several arrows within it. They were heavy metal things with polished edges. No regular human could reliably shoot these, which lended further credence to his theory that the user had magic as well.

    The arrows weren¡¯t runed though, which made some sense. It seemed running was something done to give objects special attributes, that would mean it was valuable, and shooting valuable things at appreciable fractions of mach speed was a great way to lose lots of money.

    Though, I could imagine a few circumstantial exceptions.

    ¡°Should I excuse you?¡± A voice rang through the air.

    Nero jumped and turned around to see the source. It was a woman; pale skinned, white haired and perhaps a few years his senior. Her eyes were purple, like the clouds of Hell, and she wore a set of practically-fitted furs, equipped with a bow, arrow and quiver.

    The woman did not look upon Nero approvingly. He saw Ember snickering above her head. The cunt had known she was coming and chose not to warn him. He¡¯d find a way to pay her back for that, in time.

    Nero smiled. ¡°I apologise.¡± He said politely. ¡°I was just curious.¡±

    ¡°Too curious.¡± The woman responded, tone flat. She seemed to look through Nero and not at him, in a way that made him feel uncomfortable.

    ¡°You saved me, I¡¯d like to thank you for that.¡± He told her.

    ¡°Perhaps start by dropping my shit?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Ah, yes, good idea.¡± Nero winced, nodded and set the bow and arrow down.

    The woman seemed to relax a shade at that. ¡°You faced off against a Mother Sinner and came out alive.¡± She said.

    Nero assumed from her tone that it was an impressive feat. But he had very little idea exactly how impressive, or why. Only arriving here a week ago would do that, but that was no reason to clue her in.

    ¡°Dying, I came out dying. And you rectified that predicament, thank you.¡±

    ¡°You had other wounds too¡­ many that couldn¡¯t have been done by Spinner claws.¡± She added. She was questioning him, there was suspicion in her, she hid it well but he could feel it.

    She¡¯d be a fool not to be suspicious, judging by the map there were a few settlements close to Stradale,but he didn¡¯t know enough about them to confidently tell a lie he¡¯d need to keep going for as long as he stays in this town.

    This meant that he was a man trekking through the wilderness, alone.

    That was often the fate of very dangerous people trying to escape some sort of punishment.

    Those kinds of people brought trouble and it was always smart to stay out of trouble, no matter the scenario.

    He couldn¡¯t tell her the truth, his number one priority was fitting in with the locals.

    He could lie and say bandits got him, but he¡¯d already shown himself to be abnormally powerful in her eyes, and didn¡¯t know how many people in this world were actually a match for him. Probably a good number, she¡¯s a hunter, a common vocation, if someone with strength like her was one in a billion she¡¯d be in a throne room.

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    Still, there were too many variables and an obvious lie was far more damning than a suspicious truth.

    Nero made a decision.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Nero shrugged. ¡°The Dark Forest is a den of many nightmares.¡± Not a lie, but not the whole truth either.

    ¡°And why were you heading through the Dark Forest?¡± She asked, eyebrow raised.

    ¡°Personal reasons.¡± He told her. He was allowed some secrets after all, and being casual about it was one way to ease the tension.

    ¡°I see.¡± She nodded. ¡°Alright then, can you walk?¡±

    Nero smiled and nodded. ¡°Still have a bit of a limp but I should be able to.¡±

    ¡°Alright, best you head off then, and use the backdoor, I don¡¯t need anyone knowing that I helped you, this place isn¡¯t a nursing home and I can barely take care of meself.¡±

    Nero blinked, whiplashed from the change in topic. He nodded and smiled however, knowing better than to infuriate the few people in this world who he knew meant him no harm. Or I can at least be certain she doesn¡¯t, you can¡¯t ever be too careful with people Nero, remember they all share nearly the same genetic material as you. And you wouldn¡¯t be foolish enough to trust someone who¡¯s ninety nine percent you now would you?

    ¡°Of course,¡± Nero nodded and made his way for the door. He couldn¡¯t exactly think up a way to make her cater to him while he gathered his bearings. You should have pretended to have a fever. But the time for that was gone now and all he had in front of him was a door that led to a terrifying world.

    After the trials of the forest, Nero was beginning to get used to deciding his own way forward, which was why it came as a surprise when the woman offered him one.

    ¡°Head north to the potion¡¯s shop, Gunther could use someone with your Might, the pay is cheap but at least he pays.¡± She told him.

    Nero nodded. ¡°Thank you.¡± He said and stepped out the door.

    Night had come, so the air was gaseous ice and the twin moons hung in the sky. Fuck, I passed out for that long?

    The buildings around Nero were humble wooden things, they looked like they might fall over at the slightest gust of wind. It added up when he saw the citizenry that owned them.

    The streets were packed full of people, shuffling their way around to get to one business or another. Many of them wore dirty rags on their short, thin fragile frames that made Nero¡¯s torn, blood caked shirt look fit for a ball.

    Lower nutrition meant a shorter population, and judging by the fact that he seemed to tower above most people in this town with his relatively average earthling height, the populace of Stradale were well past undernourished.

    Despite their state, they all looked to be thriving compared to the homeless. There were homeless back on earth, Nero had seen them in passing, heck he was responsible for a lot of them, and he¡¯d bet any of the one¡¯s here would trade places with earth¡¯s in an instant.

    Huddled on the side of the streets, they looked on the verge of dying, each and every single one of them. Cheeks gaunt, skin cracked and eyes distant, like reality was too much of an experience to bear.

    Other people seemed to ignore them, in that there was a commonality to the world he knew and the world he¡¯d found himself in.

    ¡°We should help them.¡± Ember pressed, face low and eyes wide.

    ¡°How?¡± He asked, but she said nothing, and he set his mind to more pressing issues.

    Nero made his way through the streets and headed in the direction the lady had suggested

    It didn¡¯t take long for him to make it to what seemed to be a market. Stalls were pressed against the far side of the walls and merchants waved goods in front of people¡¯s faces.

    It didn¡¯t surprise him to see it, a hunter¡¯s home should be close to the markets.

    Nero walked past a good few stalls with foodstuffs on display which made his stomach grumble and his tongue salivate. Observing them up close, they looked utterly horrifying. One was a fish with seven eyes and a tentacle for a tongue, the other was a crab with too many mouths, and the last was a potato that seemed perpetually on fire. Still, he was so hungry for anything actually crafted by human hands that he would have given anything to eat one.

    Judging by the state of the people here however, he was half certain that if he reached for one without the money to pay for it, he¡¯d lose the offending hand.

    All the more reason to get the job done for whoever this Gunther fellow is.

    Ember swam around people¡¯s heads, inspecting them like they were action figures. She looked absolutely delighted to finally be around others after all this while.

    It almost made Nero feel like his survival was a net-positive.

    On his way he walked past a large building in the town centre, it stood out not just for its polish but the fact that it was two stories high. Given what he¡¯d seen of much of the architecture, such a thing was a lot of effort for this civilisation¡¯s architects.

    ¡°Who lives here?¡± Ember asked, similarly fascinated, though he guessed she just liked the pretty building.

    ¡°Probably the person responsible for other people living on the streets.¡± Nero replied.

    She was silent at that, and he felt no reason to break that status quo. The rest of the walk was uneventful, though it gave him a good look of the town.

    He walked past what seemed to be soldiers, though these ones weren¡¯t anywhere near as equipped as the ones who¡¯d attacked the tower. They carried spears and wore what looked like wool. All had runes on their weapons however, and that further solidified the opinion that those had the benefit of adding magical effects to materials.

    If Mercury came looking for him here, the law enforcement would be the first in line to collaborate. That was what law enforcement was for after all- Nero had benefited from it well enough back when he¡¯d been the one at the top. So he decided to keep his head down and eyes front as he made his way past chattering soldiers.

    Once he¡¯d thought he¡¯d gone sufficiently north, he asked around for Gunther and was informed he¡¯d gone too far north and should turn around. Grumbling, he did so and found the potion shop not too far behind him.

    It was a small thing, better maintained than most of the buildings he¡¯d seen but the patches of work around it told that it had been well kept not through an excess of wealth, but an abundance of effort.

    Nero walked up and knocked on the door, it creaked open and he stepped in. The shop bled with a heat to banish the chill of the night. Pots of all sizes stood on lit stoves, bubbling away and giving off what Nero could only define as the optimum pungent aroma.

    He resisted the urge to puke. Ember zipped around, utterly oblivious to the smell.

    A man was sitting in the corner, hunched over a small boiling pot and pouring beakers filled with varying colours into it.

    Nero hesitated a moment before speaking. ¡°Are you Gunther?¡± He asked.

    The man turned around as if he¡¯d been pricked and got to his feet. He was in his forties, wrinkled and short, shorter even than most citizens of Stradale. He looked up at Nero with inquisitive eyes. ¡°Yes, but we¡¯re closed right now.¡± He said distractedly. ¡°Unless it¡¯s urgent, come in tomorrow.¡±

    ¡°Well, I guess you¡¯d be the one to tell me how urgent it is.¡± Nero began. ¡°I was sent here by¡­¡± Fuck, he didn¡¯t get her name. ¡°A woman.¡±

    ¡°Oh, a woman, well that changes everything, I ain¡¯t know it was a woman sent you, come on, help yourself to everything I have.¡±

    Nero huffed. ¡°A hunter, she said you could use someone with my attribute.¡±

    ¡°Oh, Selvas.¡± His eyes brightened with recognition. ¡°Well, you should have said that to begin with, we head off in three minutes, try not to lag behind.¡±

    Nero was about to ask what they were heading off to do when the door creaked open. He turned to see a man standing at the entrance. He was huge, bigger than Nero even, which he knew would be a rarity in this village.

    A long scar cut through his face where someone had tried and failed to kill him. By the coldness of his eyes Nero very much doubted that person was still alive.

    ¡°You again¡­¡± Gunther frowned.

    ¡°Not here for any trouble, unless you make trouble.¡± The man began. ¡°You know what I need.¡±

    ¡°I know what you want, Tommy, and what you need is to stay away from it.¡± Gunther replied, glaring up at the giant. ¡°You¡¯re not injured no more, I only gave you it to get you through recovery.¡±

    Tommy reached into his pocket and pulled out a long, crude blade. It too had that characteristic rune marking alongside it that Nero was getting used to seeing. The big man¡¯s lips were drawn into a thin line. ¡°I said, you only get trouble if you make some.¡±

    Gunther laughed. ¡°You think you¡¯re the first lad to pull a knife on me?¡± The man asked. ¡°Go ahead, stab me then, have fun explaining to the townspeople why their healer was murdered.¡±

    The big man glared but it was one of impotent rage. He turned and shoved a pot of boiling liquid to the ground with a roar.

    Gunther¡¯s lips were drawn into a thin line of annoyance at that. ¡°That was a day¡¯s work you just ruined.¡±

    Nero sighed. ¡°Sir, just leave.¡±

    He hadn¡¯t expected all that aimless rage to be drawn to him so instantly as he spoke, but he welcomed it. The man¡¯s focus slammed into him. ¡°Did you fucking say something?¡± He spat and a globule of saliva slammed into the side of Nero¡¯s face.

    ¡®No.¡¯ The answer was no. He knew people well enough to know when posturing was just that. This man didn¡¯t want a fight, he just wanted someone to shove around, someone to make feel small so he could feel better about himself, and Nero was the closest person.

    All he had to do was keep his head low, let the man think he¡¯d come out of this with a victory and step aside. He would have, too, had he been back on earth where he couldn¡¯t cleave off half a tree with a punch. But Nero didn¡¯t need to tolerate grunting morons like this anymore.

    ¡°Just ignore him, lad.¡± Gunther urged.

    Nero cleared his throat, he was tired of scurrying around, he¡¯d had enough of that from the Dark Forest. ¡°I said, get the fuck out. Do you have a problem with that?¡±

    Tommy came for him, dagger in hand, though seeming to favour the closed fist of his other arm rather than a stabbing motion. He was fast, fast as X, but with how swiftly Nero could react now, he was also slow, far too slow to be a threat. Nero grinned, ready to meet the bastard with his own fists.

 Chapter 9: Fall from grace.

    Chapter 9: Fall from grace.

    Nero held back in his first blow, wanting to hurt the man, not kill him. That only heightened his surprise when the force of the attack sent Tommy shunting backwards towards the door, tripping as he reached it and falling onto his back so he rolled out the building.

    Huh, neat.

    He coughed, but was on his feet again and Nero stepped up to meet him. Tommy swung that cruel, hungry blade at him several times and each one missed, either by Nero dodging or blocking.

    In hindsight, starting this fight had been a hotblooded thing to do, he was still far too unfamiliar with where he stood in this world¡¯s hierarchy of magic. But from the looks of things, he reckoned fate had given him just enough shit to allow for one bad decision to go unpunished.

    Back on earth, Tommy would have been uncontested for strongest man in the world. That, it seemed, was a testament to how powerful the magic in this world was then. His strength was at best a mild concern to Nero.

    It was still a concern though, which was why when Tommy chucked a handful of dirt in his face, Nero was sent stumbling back, trying to blink his vision back into existence.

    He saw just enough to know the fist was coming at him again, caught the hand and batted the blow aside, then stepped in and wrestled the unused knife from Tommy¡¯s other hand for good measure.

    You should be focusing on fighting, not thinking.

    It was a reminder that the man was a better fighter than him. Well, really, he was just a fighter, and Nero wasn¡¯t.

    The only thing that kept him ahead in this fight was just the vast difference in physicality. Like Mike Tyson going up against an elephant.

    He slammed his head into Tommy¡¯s face, felt something crunch and sent the bigger man stumbling to the ground. He was dazed, and Nero watched to see if he still wanted to continue the ¡®fight¡¯.

    ¡°What the bloody hell do you think you¡¯re doing?!¡± Gunther growled.

    Nero turned around, surprised to see the storming rage etched into the small man¡¯s face. All directed at him too. He raised an eyebrow. ¡°I¡¯m defending myself.¡± Nero protested.

    ¡°Yourself or your ego boy?!¡± The potions master accused. ¡°God of Hell, you broke the lad¡¯s nose!¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s a big fucking bully.¡± Nero shot back. ¡°People like him do what they want because they know they¡¯ll get away with it and nobody¡¯s going to make them fucking pay because that¡¯s how the world works!¡± Nero felt his own rage grow to a flame he hadn¡¯t known was there. He¡¯d almost let himself think this was just about testing out his new found strength. No, there was something deeper there. ¡°Someone needs to show them that you can¡¯t just fuck people and get away with it!¡±

    ¡°Oh, and you¡¯re that someone?!¡± Gunther scoffed. ¡°Listen lad, I don¡¯t know what you¡¯re working through but you best do it internally and not use my fucking patients as your punching bags do you understand?¡±

    Nero could have sworn nothing in the dark forest was even half as hateful as the man¡¯s eyes were at that very moment. He swallowed then nodded. What was he even on about?

    The man was an addict, he had a problem and Nero¡¯s solution to that was to goad him into a fight. ¡®People like him do what they want because they know they¡¯ll get away with it and nobody¡¯s going to make them fucking pay.¡¯ He was describing himself, he realised.

    When Gunther¡¯s eyes softened, it wasn¡¯t at Nero. ¡°Tommy, you¡¯re all kinds of fucked up, come here lad, let¡¯s have a look at you.¡±

    Nero looked down at what he¡¯d done. Rivers of blood ran down from Tommy¡¯s nose, he clutched the side where he¡¯d hit him. He looked at Gunther then back up at Nero with fearful eyes. The man hesitated then ran off with a limp.

    ¡°Fucking shit.¡± Gunther swore.

    Nero turned to him. ¡°I¡¯m sor-¡±

    ¡°You, with me, now.¡± Gunther said, turning around and making his way into the shop with a brisk walk.

    Nero walked behind Gunther and the two shared a silence only periodically interrupted by the sound of howling and growling from the woods. Stradale was a few hours behind them now and with every step they moved closer and closer to the Dark Forest.

    Gunther had given Nero a long robe to wear. ¡®You¡¯ll freeze to death in those, soft lad,¡¯ he said, and that was one of the very few words exchanged between the pair.

    It left a lot of time for Nero to think, which was a terrible fate. Dying, being hunted by Mercury, watching people be murdered to protect him, surviving the Dark Forest. It had all meant nothing, the moment he had power, what did he use it for? To make myself feel better. No matter the consequences.

    Ember didn''t seem to approve either, she looked at him with eyes that were apologetic yes, but also weary. It was the first time he¡¯d seen her look at him like that, and it made him feel all kinds of wrong.

    ¡°Where are you from, boy?¡± Gunther asked.

    Nero blanched, surprised at even being spoken to. It took him a moment to get his tongue working. ¡°Somewhere far away.¡± Was all he said.

    ¡°Well, clearly they don¡¯t teach you much sense in somewhere far away.¡± Gunther began. ¡°Cause around here, idiots who start fights just because they think they¡¯re hard tend to end up with an inappropriate number of holes in their backs soon enough. And then they¡¯re my problem, bleeding out on my table while I try, and more often than not fail, to pull them back from the depths.¡±

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    Nero didn¡¯t say much at that, he¡¯d not considered that he¡¯d made an enemy on his first day in the town, and the implications of that made his guts squirm.

    ¡°Where are we going?¡± Nero asked, eager to change the subject. To his surprise, Gunther let it happen.

    ¡°We''re going to grab a Sky Slitherer corpse.¡± Gunther told him.

    Nero had no idea what that was but he pretended to know since Gunther seemed to expect him to. ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t seem too surprised.¡± The man raised an eyebrow.

    ¡°It¡¯s the serpent thingy you saw in the sky!¡± Ember chimed in, clearly she¡¯d been deep in thought, else she¡¯d have helped out sooner. Of course, Sky Slitherer. Should have guessed.

    Nero shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m used to odd jobs.¡±

    The man looked at Nero¡¯s hands then shook his head.

    ¡°No you¡¯re not.¡± He didn''t dwell on it however. ¡°Anyway, you¡¯re gonna help me haul it back to Stradale, how many rubies do you want for it?¡±

    He didn¡¯t know the currency, he should have asked around about that when he had the chance. For most people in his predicament, the smart thing to do would be to simply say ¡®Whatever you feel comfortable with.¡¯ But Nero didn¡¯t want to risk it, he stood out enough already and if the rest of the world was as impoverished as this town was, people would insist on being paid the worth of their labour.

    He looked up to Ember and she looked lost at the concept of money. Perfect.

    Luckily he had the luxury of recalling half remembered prices called out by merchants when he passed the market.

    A fish was sold for two red rubies.

    He¡¯d seen clothes sold for sixteen red rubies, the priciest exchange he¡¯d witnessed however was a dress for seventeen red rubies and one azure ruby. The highest purchase he¡¯d come across in raw ruby denominations was seventeen red rubies.

    The currency probably works in base eighteen. An azure ruby should then be worth eighteen red rubies.

    He¡¯d walked past stalls where people could exchange azure rubies for black rubies. That was the only time he¡¯d in fact heard of black rubies which meant it was a much higher currency, possibly worth eighteen azure rubies. Could be worth thirty-six.

    He¡¯d have to make a guess here. Nero hated guessing. But that was a distraction.

    There was the size of a sky-slitherer, it was big, very big in fact, if his memory served him correctly, and it probably didn¡¯t, it would be several tonnes in weight. Plus or minus one for an imperfect memory, he had seen it when he was half-way to pissing himself so his mind was very likely inflating the size. Minus one then.

    How many people could lift that? Not many people. Selvas, the hunter, had seemed impressed at his feats, and when she¡¯d remarked on his strength the first thought she¡¯d had was the job of dragging it. There was also the fact that he dwarfed Tommy in strength too.

    He also had to consider how common magical strength was in people though. He¡¯d seen superhuman strength enough now that it was beginning to seem a banality. Certainly Tommy couldn¡¯t lift several tonnes, but five of him definitely could.

    Finally, Nero decided on an answer. ¡°Two azures and five red rubies.¡± He smiled neutrally as he answered. Nero wore an expression carefully crafted to be projected upon, that way if he was wrong in his estimations he could look like either a fool undervaluing his labour or a money grubbing swindler trying to clutch all the money he could. ¡°Assuming the creature is only a few minutes away now.¡±

    Gunther scoffed. ¡°Lowballing yourself ain¡¯t gonna get you back into my good graces, but I guess you laid your own bed, might as well lie in it, Two blues and five reds it is.¡±

    Ah, so he had underestimated, but not by that much then. I¡¯ll have to figure out where I fucked up on my own time then.

    They reached the corpse not long after just at the outskirts of the Dark Forest. The Sky Slitherer was curled up into a ball which made it appear smaller than it actually was, but even now it still cut a titanic figure.

    ¡°That¡¯s really, really big.¡± Ember hummed.

    It was still as a statue, every part of Nero knew the thing was dead, and yet it was those exact same parts that screamed at him to flee.

    ¡°There you are.¡± Gunther smiled.

    ¡°It¡¯s massive.¡± Nero whispered.

    ¡°And a mean bastard too.¡± Gunther said, walking over and patting the corpse like the roof of a car.

    ¡°Why do you want it?¡± Nero asked, then nearly winced. It could have been a question with so obvious an answer that it would be odd not to know.

    Gunther raised an eyebrow in a way that made Nero think it was. ¡°Nearly all parts of it can be used to make a concoction.¡± He said. ¡°It¡¯s why they¡¯re so valuable in the first place.¡±

    ¡°Of course, and you¡¯re a potions master, that makes sense.¡± He nodded.

    ¡°Yeah, with a resource bag like this, my patients are gonna have a good month.¡± Gunther smiled, as if at something distant.

    Nero looked at the wrinkles in its skin, the way it dropped in certain areas. He¡¯d thought it was from decay, now he realised what it actually was.¡°It¡¯s ancient isn¡¯t it, died from old age?¡± Nero asked. ¡°And Selvas, she¡¯s the one who saw it, while hunting.¡±

    ¡°If you had a brain like that you should have used it while we were back at the shop.¡± Gunther chastised, but he seemed more relaxed now, more warm. ¡°She¡¯d have dragged it back for me had she not come across an idiot who picked a fight with a mother Sin-Spinner.¡±

    Nero huffed and got to work. He moved under the thing¡¯s head, groaned and lifted it off the ground. Once he began to move he became quite certain that he should in fact have charged higher, much more. This thing was denser than it looked. And it looks pretty fucking dense.

    He dragged it across the ground and began to make his way to the town.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± He asked Gunther.

    The man was climbing on top of the corpse. He rolled onto its head and laid his back across it. ¡°Getting comfortable.¡± He replied with an audible grin.

    Ember laughed, and Nero grumbled.

    ¡°Do be quick about it, if the guards spot you before you reach Stradale they might try to claim it as their find and hand it over to the Lord of the town.¡± Gunther noted and there was a hint of urgency to his voice.

    ¡°What¡¯s stopping the Lord from taking it when we reach the town?¡± Nero asked. He hated that every question he asked had him touting his own ignorance. But better to show ignorance around potential allies than enemies.

    If he wanted to figure out this place he¡¯d need to take risks.

    ¡°Witnesses.¡± Gunther answered. ¡°The Lord doesn¡¯t want a revolt and fucking over the man who heals your people is a sure way to start one.¡± He laughed. ¡°Now that doesn¡¯t stop the bastard from twisting my balls with taxes I can barely afford to pay, but that¡¯s different from prying months worth of healing material away from the people right before their very eyes.¡±

    ¡°Well, let''s hope we make it to town quickly then.¡± Nero suggested.

    ¡°Lets,¡± Gunter agreed. ¡°God of Hell, I can¡¯t stand the silence, should I sing?¡±

    ¡°That¡¯ll be fun!¡± Ember beamed.

    Nero shook his head. ¡°I assure you, you don¡¯t need to-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m gonna sing.¡±

    And so the potions master sang while Nero carried him to the town. They reached it without any exchange with the guards, and a great many witnesses saw Nero carrying the monster through Stradale.

    The good luck ended when they reached the shop however. Its door was ajar.

    ¡°Did you forget to lock it?¡± Nero asked tightly.

    Gunther jumped down from the creature, dread etched into his face. He hurried into the shop and the moment he stepped in Nero heard him let out a cry of agony.

    He¡¯d thought he¡¯d been hurt, but when he stepped in after him, Nero found that the situation was much, much worse. The shop wrecked, it looked like a storm had rolled through it. The once bubbling pots were turned over, beakers were smashed and shelves were fallen over on the floor.

    ¡°No¡­¡± Gunther whispered. He walked over to an empty drawer and shut his eyes. ¡°The bastard¡¯s taken all of it.¡± The man made his way across the room, inspecting the damage and physically flinching with pain every time he came across something new that was ruined or damaged. Gunther sank to his knees, clutching his head. ¡°This¡¯ll set me back months.¡± He whispered, sounding broken. ¡°Months¡­¡±

    Nero stared and felt his heart sink. He knew who did this. Tommy. He should go there and- And what? Beat him up, throw him around, what will that change? Make him more desperate, perhaps.

    Nero looked at Gunther. ¡°What can I do to help?¡± He asked.

 Chapter 10: Bump in the Night.

    Chapter 10: Bump in the Night.

    Much of what Nero could do for Gunther was cleaning. There were shards of glass, overturned tables and liquids wetting the floor. The night was spent meticulously salvaging what could still be salvaged, and appropriately disposing of what couldn¡¯t.

    A lot of the materials were toxic in their current form, Gunther had said, As he¡¯d put it; ¡®We can¡¯t risk them ending up somewhere where they might hurt someone.¡¯ So he disposed of them, either neutralising them with new potions where possible or, where it was not, having Nero pour them all into a rather deep hole behind the building which, of course, he¡¯d dug himself.

    The man¡¯s eyes were a torrent of churning emotions while they worked, and yet there was a controlled discipline to him. It was clear that he placed the tasks ahead of him above whatever state his mind was in.

    There wasn¡¯t much talking between the two, occasionally Nero would hear the man mutter something but he was usually talking to himself, about how many would die either due to infection or trauma while he tried to get his shop back into working conditions.

    Nero didn¡¯t know what to say to that, so he was often quiet while he did so.

    It was morning when they were done.

    He¡¯d offered to pay Nero for his work and perhaps a good man might not have even entertained the idea, but Nero was hungry, shivering and most importantly Nero, so it was only with great regret and anguish that he rejected the offer and left the shop as quickly as possible before he could change his mind.

    He needs it more than me, he needs it more than me, he needs it more than me.

    That didn¡¯t change the fact that his stomach was growling again, and he had to find some way of fixing that.

    A combination of Nero¡¯s experiences in the forest, his night in the town and whatever other, fractional learning moments he¡¯d had without noticing bred an idea in him.

    It wasn¡¯t one he liked, but Nero was quickly getting used to that being the trend in Hell.

    ¡°So you¡¯re interested in monster hunting are you?¡± The man asked from across the counter. The tavern smelled like whiskey, meat and, bread, all things that made Nero¡¯s throat burn with jealousy.

    ¡°Ideally, yes.¡± He replied from his stool. He¡¯d assumed, and not incorrectly so, that a population this close to woodlands filled with all kinds of horrible things would very much have an economy of ¡®population controllers.¡¯ After asking around, it turned out he was right.

    ¡°Alright then.¡± The barkeep said, reaching into a shelf and grabbing a fist full of papers. He began reading the contents out loud for him. It seemed he¡¯d assumed Nero couldn¡¯t do so himself, which meant illiteracy was fairly commonplace in this world. Nero only listened and didn¡¯t correct him, it was always better to keep one¡¯s cards close to their chest, even the potentially insignificant ones.

    Humans reading here could also be a crime.

    No matter how much information I gain, it always feels like I¡¯m walking blind in here.

    That was the problem with trying to keep his identity a secret in a foreign world after all. If the Demons knew he was here¡­. Well that would be a quick way to be left hanging from a rope. And it just so happened that all the most convenient questions were the most likely ones to expose him.

    The man continued listing beasts that needed killing. Apparently Face Eaters were a real problem lately, swooping down and plucking an unsuspecting citizen into the sky, never to be seen again. It was all very sad and heartbreaking but Nero had no business crossing paths with those devils ever again.

    Sin Spinners were worth a considerable number of red rubies, and when the man mentioned that there was a need for a culling of them due to their habit of creeping into the farms and killing the livestock, Nero couldn¡¯t help but grin.

    That elicited a disapproving look from the barkeep who did not know he was simply happy to hear of a monster he already had experience killing on this list, and perhaps thought he got a hard on from hearing news of Farmers losing their livelihoods.

    Nero winced upon realisation ¡°Ah, sorry, I-¡±

    ¡°The Sin Spinners pay twelve red rubies each.¡± The man said, cutting him off with a slight edge to his voice now. ¡°You get payment for every head you bring and a huge bonus if it¡¯s a mother sinner.¡±

    It wasn¡¯t much, not much at all, but Nero could certainly kill a lot of Sin Spinners, it wasn¡¯t strength they had on their side, it was speed.

    I¡¯ve killed a couple before haven¡¯t I?

    But that was when he didn¡¯t have a gash across his belly. It was also just after nearly having died from the cold.

    Was he in better condition now? Yes, but he was worse in certain ways too. It didn¡¯t matter however, Nero didn¡¯t have much of a choice.

    ¡°Alright then,¡± He said. ¡°I''ll take it.¡±

    Nero had chosen to set off during the day, not because of any particular tactical reason but because the sooner he set off, the sooner he could get something to eat and the sooner he could get paid.

    His body still felt like shit, at this point he¡¯d long since forgotten what peak condition even meant. There was just always this lingering fatigue that clung to him.

    The journey through the forest on his way to Stradale had given him some time to heal, but quite a lot of that was undone by the giant fucking spider that ambushed him after it.

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    There were a few good things to gain from being in the woods again, however, in particular it was the fact that he could once again tinker with his magic.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°Focusing.¡± Nero replied. He was sat cross legged, in the middle of the forest while staring at his left hand. ¡°On whether or not I can switch the hands in which my glowy thing appears in.¡±

    ¡°You mean Light Breathing.¡± Ember corrected.

    Nero shrugged then grinned as his left came alight. ¡°Ha!¡± It took more focus and time, but it worked. ¡°Now to see how quickly I can switch.¡± If he could do it in a second or even better yet in between seconds that would be a killer advantage in fights. Nero focused on his right, that switch came, the light in his left died in roughly five seconds and leapt to his right. He did the same for his left and that took up to twenty three seconds to switch to.

    ¡°Inconvenient.¡± He muttered. He was better at using his right than his left then, it probably had something to do with which was his dominant hand. Perhaps if he were ambidextrous it would be easier. Well, there was no way to actually test that out, and like always there were more pressing issues to deal with.

    Nero continued to switch hands, trying to see if training could actually help him wield this magic better. If it could, then it was a good thing, that opened the door to all sorts of things he could do with Light Breathing save from just punching really hard. If it couldn¡¯t then he was just stuck like this, powerful but forever cursed to be prey to the real powers of the world. Powers like Mercury.

    To his relief he could actually make progress, several minutes of training allowed him to cut the time it took to Light Breathe in his left hand from twenty three to twenty seconds, while not being able to make any progress in his right at all. That was still an eternity in a fight however.

    It left a lingering question.

    Should he resolve to always start with his left hand glowing whenever he could, that way if he ever needed to switch it would be able to be done as quickly as possible? Or should he stick to his right for the pure simplicity of it being the hand he can fight better with?

    God, he¡¯d wished he¡¯d learned more about combat back on earth.

    Nero was tired now, which was odd because he actually hadn¡¯t engaged in all that much activity today.

    He chalked it up to simple fatigue and got to his feet. The barkeep had said the spiders tended to use cave systems as their major means of travel and as such the largest population of them would be within said caves.

    Nero wasn¡¯t an idiot, so he would not be heading directly into the caves filled with deadly, venomous spiders. But he did head in their direction either way. There was a good chance that there would be a few lone spiders around, either on their way home or leaving it. The hope was that he could get the jump on and clobber them to death before they even knew what was happening.

    When he explained his plan to Ember, her response was typical. ¡°That¡¯s not very honourable.¡± She chastised.

    ¡°Being honourable hasn¡¯t gotten us super far lately I think.¡± He remembered refusing Gunther¡¯s payment, not once, not twice but five times and could barely refuse the urge to headbutt a boulder on being confronted with his own raw stupidity.

    Ember frowned. ¡°How are you going to save Hell with that attitude?¡±

    Ah, yes, saving Hell. He¡¯d been so busy seeing to such basic tasks as clothing, shelter, food and not being mauled to death by monsters that he¡¯d long since forgotten he¡¯d been assigned the grand goal of saving fucking Hell. ¡°Well Hell can go fuck itself.¡± Nero laughed bitterly.

    Ember frowned at that and it was one of sadness. ¡°But you saw all those people?¡±

    ¡°Yes, yes I did, and I¡¯m just a guy who can punch really hard, and the only person I¡¯ve used that grand ability on so far has been an addict.¡± He explained. ¡°If you ask me I¡¯d say I¡¯m severely underqualified for the job I¡¯m being assigned here and incredibly irresponsible with the already limited power I¡¯ve been granted to do it.¡±

    Ember¡¯s face dropped. ¡°But who¡¯s going to save them then? You¡¯re the Light Breather, the God of Hell?¡±

    God of Hell?

    ¡°I¡­¡± Nero hesitated. ¡°Look, let''s just focus on things like food and fitting in for now, I can¡¯t save the world if I don¡¯t even know how it works, yes?¡±

    ¡°And then we¡¯ll save the world?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°And then we¡¯ll talk about it.¡± He told her.

    It was not the answer Ember had wanted, but it had the effects of lifting her mood ever so slightly. ¡°Okay.¡± She nodded.

    Nero sighed, that was at least a conversation pushed into the future.

    Nero made his way north to where he knew one of the caves were. He wasn¡¯t actually that deep into the forest which was where he¡¯d heard most of the terrible things were, so he felt quite relaxed as he made his travels.

    He was beginning to even recognise some structures now and used that to navigate towards a river where he was able to get something to drink. Last time he¡¯d made his way here, Ember had warned him that there was something called Drowners that lurked at the depths and that he should be careful.

    Today he actually saw one grab a Crimson Centipede and drag it into the bottom. Well, he didn¡¯t see one as much as he saw its tentacles wrap around the creature and then nothing. Lucky for him Ember could scope out the waters and tell him there was anything to be weary of before he approached.

    It felt like the middle of the day when he finally saw the cave. Nero secured a spot high above it and not too far away, so he could see the comings and goings of the Sin Spinners.

    It wasn¡¯t long before he saw some movement, Sin Spinners bringing webbed up prey back to their den and others leaving in search of food. One annoying trend Nero noticed was that they travelled in groups of five most times and four at the very least. That meant he wasn¡¯t going to be able to grab one alone.

    Nero decided to wait, that he knew he was capable of taking on four at once didn¡¯t mean he wanted to do so, so he let the hours pass him by while he was perched up high above. He had almost resolved to face them with the numerical disadvantage when he saw a lone Spinner make its way out of the cave.

    Silently, He followed the Sin Spinner as they made their way into the forest. It travelled in a straight line, which made his course of attack easy enough to decide.

    Once he felt confident enough, he set his hand alight and leapt down onto the thing¡¯s back. He could kill it with one good strike.

    Nero landed. His fist struck the target¡¯s back and he heard the thing squeal. He didn¡¯t feel that satisfying crunch that he knew should have come with the attack. His blood chilled when he realised why.

    Neros¡¯ hand wasn¡¯t glowing anymore.

    The creature jerked its body to the side and sent Nero to the ground. He met it rolling.

    Nero stopped, focused on his hand and tried to call on his Light Breathing. The magic flickered in his palm and died. Shit.

    The Spinner was coming for him, sharp claws intent on cutting him into a dozen pieces.

    He felt around for a rock, picked one, rolled onto his feet and threw it at the creature. It struck, sending it stumbling back and halting its advance for a moment.

    Nero capitalised on that moment by running over and slamming his foot into its knee. Something gave this time. That forced a roar out of the creature and it nearly lost its balance. It seemed that was enough of an assault to make it rethink turning its fangs on him.

    The Sin Spinner hissed, turned around and sprinted away.

    Nero waited until he couldn¡¯t hear its footsteps anymore to collapse onto his knees panting. ¡°What the fuck just happened?¡± He rubbed his face with trembling hands.

    ¡°I¡¯m not¡­ sure.¡± Ember breathed. He could see her expression tighten the way it always did when she was trying to remember something. It looked like she was half-way to agony.

    Nero ran his mind through the events of the day. ¡°Training.¡± He whispered. ¡°It must have been when I was training, I must have exhausted my Light Breathing.¡± That explained the fatigue.

    Ember nodded. ¡°Y-yes, I think that sounds right.¡±

    ¡°Alright, so it¡¯s a depletable resource.¡± Nero nodded. It would have been good to know that before he leapt onto the back of a Sin Spinner. ¡°But hopefully renewable too.¡±

    Ember nodded unsurely.

    ¡°Okay, alright.¡± He sighed.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry Nero.¡± Ember murmured with pleading eyes.

    Nero shook his head and forced a smile. ¡°It¡¯s okay, I mean all things considered, it¡¯s not that bad, lucky for us, I wasn¡¯t actually going up against something I couldn¡¯t take while like this.¡±

    And just as he said that, Nero heard something rustling in the bushes behind him.

 Chapter 11: Faces in the Dark.

    Chapter 11: Faces in the Dark.

    ¡°Come on, come on, come on.¡± Nero whispered, practically glaring at his right hand in the process. Still, the familiar bright magic didn¡¯t coat it with its reinforcing light. Only flickered and died.

    The sounds were getting closer now, and Nero was running out of options. He could run or stand his ground like a man.

    Nero was five steps into his fleeing sprint when a voice called from behind. ¡°Relax, it¡¯s just me.¡± It said.

    He turned to see Selvas, purple eyes weighing him like ever and with a compound bow in her hands.

    Relief flooded Nero, and then embarrassment. He smiled. ¡°Oh, hello. Nice to see you again Selvas.¡±

    The woman raised an eyebrow. ¡°Is it? Or are you going to beat me up too?¡±

    Nero winced. ¡°Ah, you heard about that.¡± Of course she did, the fight took place in the middle of the street. ¡°I¡¯m terribly sorry about the way I acted.¡± He replied, sincerely.

    His words seemed to glance off of her. ¡°Mmhmm.¡± She hummed, then thankfully moved on. ¡°What¡¯re you doing out here?¡±

    ¡°Monster Hunting.¡± Nero explained.

    She eyed him. ¡°You don¡¯t seem to be doing too great at it.¡±

    ¡°I do not.¡± Nero agreed, biting back the frustration of his recent failure.

    ¡°And yet you took down a Mother Spinner all on your own?¡± Selvas asked and the question hung in the air.

    Nero decided he didn¡¯t like talking to this woman. She was far too intelligent not to be dangerous, and he had enough danger around him already. Still, he couldn¡¯t just tell her to fuck off, that would be rude and more suspicious than any answer he could actually give to the question she asked.

    ¡°I¡¯m having a bad day, and like I said last time, I nearly died in that fight.¡± He replied with a noncommittal shrug. ¡°I¡¯m Nero by the way.¡± He said.

    ¡°Well, hello Nero.¡± She nodded. Selvas stepped forwards, taking note of the ground and seeming to spot details that Nero couldn''t even begin to identify. ¡°You were fighting a Sin Spinner here.¡± She mused.

    ¡°Not well, but yes.¡± He nodded.

    Selvas¡¯s eyes fell back on him, it was clear she was thinking about something but he couldn¡¯t for the life of him figure out what it was. ¡°I¡¯m tracking a squad of outlaws, they¡¯re wanted dead or alive. I could use your help, Nero.¡±

    Well, he hadn¡¯t actually humoured the idea of hunting humans. On one hand it seemed an absolutely barbaric thing to do, and on the other hand it would be objectively far less terrifying than his encounters with the beasts he¡¯d come to expect from these woods.

    Still, there was something uniquely disconcerting about hunting down another person.

    ¡°It pays five azure per person.¡± Selvas explained.

    Well, with such a sound and philosophical argument placed before him, Nero couldn¡¯t imagine refusing to aid the woman. ¡°Of course, lead the way.¡±

    Selvas did, and Nero followed.

    Much of the day¡¯s journey was a silent one, Selvas unlike Gunther was not at all one for conversation. Instead she focused more on keeping note of the woods and what may lurk within them. Nero appreciated the silence, but also found himself chafing at it.

    Conversation was how he might be able to needle out what Selvas suspected about him. Has she been watching me? How long has she been watching me? Did she see me Light Breathe?

    That last one was without a doubt the most important question, and it hung over Nero like a guillotine blade. At this point it was safe to assume Light Breathing might be an ability unique to him or the ¡®God of Hell,¡¯ which meant anyone actually seeing him train in public with it might as well have been told his identity outright.

    Nero couldn¡¯t imagine a scenario worse than that, he also couldn¡¯t imagine a worse person to potentially have that information than one he just couldn¡¯t get a read on.

    How he usually understood people was often through finding a correlation between what they did and didn¡¯t react to. If he wanted to know if a person knew more than they were letting on, he would base a structured story around a lie and if they poked and prodded it in an unnatural way then he had reason to suspect they already knew the truth.

    If it sounded elementary, that was because it was. Most effective tactics were, in fact, the only reason why most people thought otherwise was because people who used them effectively liked to inflate their own achievements in the eyes of the public.

    The difference between the best woodworker in the world and a middling one wasn¡¯t the tools they used but how they used them. And Selvas just didn¡¯t react to any which way he carved into her.

    He knew she was suspicious of him, that much was clear but the exact reason could be anything, from the fact that he was a stranger who appeared out of nowhere outside her town to her seeing him use forbidden magic in person.

    You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

    Both of those required very different solutions.

    And what would your solution be if she found you out? Nero didn¡¯t want to think about that so he focused on other things, such as how much better at survival Selvas was than him.

    The woman hunted better with her bow, taking down prey that Nero had long since decided were far too swift for him to have any hope of catching.

    The speed with which her arrow took off from her bow finally confirmed his theory that runes did in fact add enhancements to objects. In this case her runes likely made the bow more powerful than would naturally be possible, even with the mechanics, it wasn¡¯t by much, but enough that its the speed and power behind her arrow looked unnatural to his new keen eye.

    The ease with which she was able to cut up meat and slice through bone with her runed dagger had Nero deciding that the effect its runes had was making the blade sharper. Again, not by much, but Nero supposed every edge counted in Hell.

    Selvas could make camp too, and make it well. No more waking up to the feeling of worms wriggling up his skin.

    It felt emasculating really, he was a man so by law should have been better than her at manly things. Had he ever gone camping before? No. Had he ever studied the wilderness before? No. Did he have any experience with survival training in his life? None at all.

    Still, it didn¡¯t sit right with him and he silently let himself critique Selvas¡¯ knot tying technique.

    Hmm, yes, it¡¯s supposed to be a lefty loop not a righty one, a professional camper would know.

    ¡°Are you going to sit there nodding like an idiot, or are you going to help me?¡± Selvas asked.

    ¡°Ah, yes, of course.¡± Nero nodded. ¡°What can I do?¡±

    ¡°Help me tie the other end.¡± She said, gesturing to the rope on the other side of her tent.

    He walked over and held the length of rope between his fingers and began to tie it around a tree. He could do this, he could certainly do this, he¡¯d faced off against Sin Spinners and Face Eaters and all other kinds of horrors, he could tie a simple length of rope,

    ¡°What the bloody hell are you doing?¡± Selvas groaned.

    ¡°Tying the ro-¡±

    ¡°That¡¯s not how you do it.¡± She sighed, walking over, undoing Nero¡¯s knot and tying an intricate one in its place. The woman talked as she worked. ¡°You¡¯ve got to make it easy to undo with a pull yet unlikely to come off on its own, that way you can pack up quickly if need be but aren¡¯t at risk of it all falling apart in the middle of the night.¡±

    ¡°Huh.¡± Nero nodded. ¡°Noted.¡±

    ¡°And you somehow survived here all on your own?¡± Selvas asked, voice sounding incredulous.

    ¡°Luck?¡± Nero said feebly.

    ¡°Luck.¡± The woman echoed. There wasn¡¯t really a way to come out of that line of questioning unscathed unless he made up a companion who died helping him through it. Somehow that felt a little cruel to do, but it was the fact that it would be another lie to juggle around that actually had him hesitating.

    ¡°Who taught you?¡± Nero asked.

    He hadn¡¯t expected the woman to tense at the question and for a moment Nero thought he had somehow fucked up yet again. Something told him the issue was on her end not his however. ¡°Excuse me?¡±

    ¡°Sorry.¡± He said. ¡°The way you explained it, it was like you¡¯d heard someone say it before and you were repeating it from memory.¡± He explained. It was either that or she¡¯d taught this lesson. Speech patterns were often like footprints in the mud and when they changed it was likely a reflection of something in the person.

    ¡°I was repeating it from memory.¡± The woman concured, and it was a rather odd thing to see her seem if only for a moment unguarded. Her purple eyes still held the winter¡¯s cold within them, but it seemed like at least there was a path into that frigid tundra. ¡°My father taught me.¡± She finished.

    Nero urged the conversation on, it was his first insight into this woman. And only hope of assessing if she knows your secret or not. ¡°Ah, did he also teach you how to make those bows?¡±

    The woman blinked. ¡°Yes.¡± Her eyes narrowed. ¡°You know, for a man who¡¯s so shrouded in mystery, you ask a lot of questions.¡± Suspicious as always, but it doesn¡¯t seem to be with any particular line of questioning. That was a good sign.

    Nero shrugged. ¡°I¡¯m Inquisitive.¡±

    ¡°I noticed.¡± She nodded, heading over to the campfire she¡¯d made, sitting on a log and roasting a piece of meat above the open flame.

    ¡°So.¡± Nero continued. ¡°He was a Damned then?¡±

    The woman froze, eyeing Nero again. ¡°Yes.¡± She said, a silent question hung in the air.

    Nero chose to answer it with honesty. ¡°The composition and make for your bow, it¡¯s really advanced, no other hunter I saw in the market had anything like it.¡±

    Selvas seemed to relax a little at the question. ¡°Yes, he¡¯s from the other world.¡± She nodded. ¡°Turned into a thrall and forced into obedience by a Demon Lord.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about that.¡± Nero said. That meant people from earth in this world could have an impact on its technology. The fact that it still looked so primitive was likely out of design by the Demons. Keep them unable to develop technology so they¡¯re less dangerous and keep them from reading to prevent easy communication.

    ¡°Well, unless you have any more intimate questions about my past, I¡¯ll be setting up some traps.¡± Selvas said.

    Nero did have several questions, and not just about her past. Like how the world was structured, were there nations or was it all under one unitary body. Where do the Damned usually appear and how does one travel through the circles of Hell. He couldn¡¯t ask them however, because he didn¡¯t know how to ask them without giving himself away.

    Nero shook his head. ¡°None from me.¡± He told the woman.

    Selvas nodded and headed off.

    Nero let himself get comfortable once she did and sat down across a log of wood. He roasted meat out on the open fire and let his mind drift to the tune of the crackling wood.

    There was still the matter of his Lightbreathing, it was night now, so perhaps it had come back. Nero resisted the urge to check for fear of being watched by the woman. He¡¯d decided she didn¡¯t have any direct suspicions about him, just the general ones that couldn¡¯t be avoided when a stranger suddenly popped out of nowhere.

    That was good, he needed to keep his head down, it was the smart way to get about, no matter how bad things got. He had to look out for himself, or else he would die, and Ember would¡­ Well, he didn¡¯t know what would happen to her if he died but he couldn¡¯t imagine it would be great.

    The Imp floated around the open flame, time spent around other people, though it made her excited, often seemed to eventually plague her with a certain loneliness. Nero couldn¡¯t talk to her for fear of either coming across having a few screws loose or risk being found out entirely. So she was left to silence while time drifted by.

    It was made worse when he took into consideration the fact that even on isolated days she could already only talk to him during waking hours.

    He turned his mind to other things. Roughly ten seconds, maybe more. He could use his Light Breathing for about that amount of time, well, that was unfortunate, but it was certainly much, much better than nothing. He¡¯d just have to use it more conservatively next time.

    A screech from above clawed Nero¡¯s eyes away from the flame and towards the skies. Something large and black tore through the air above like an arrow. Nero recognised what it was immediately, guts squirming with terror as a result.

    ¡°A Face Eater.¡± Ember whispered.

    It was coming down, and coming down quickly. Very fucking quickly.

    God, I fucking hate this place.

 Chapter 12: Prey.

    Chapter 12: Prey.

    Nero leapt out of the way half a moment before the Face Eater¡¯s form crashed into the campfire. The impact of its landing shoved a cloud of debris into air, filling it with dust and obscuring its form.

    Nero saw a shadowy death move within the cloud, but it was too late. The Face Eater was on him, claw wrapped tightly around his arm and dragging at him.

    The thing¡¯s wings beat powerfully against the air, yanking Nero¡¯s feet off of the ground. It was trying to take him to the sky, to its domain. Nero couldn¡¯t let that happen, he¡¯d be as good as dead if he did.

    He reached for a tree and gripped it by the bark. The beast continued to flap its great black wings, forcing Nero¡¯s fingers to slip further and further.

    With his right arm being pulled one way and his left another, Nero felt like he was coming apart at the seams. His muscles burned with exertion, but it wasn¡¯t enough and soon Nero had lost his grip entirely.

    Wind roared past his ears as the Face Eater took him up higher and higher. He was approaching the height of treetops when his hand lit up. It¡¯s back! That was one silver lining in this absolute shit-storm.

    He pulled his arm back, readying to throw a punch. He knew however that the Face Eater was quite resilient and Nero didn¡¯t want to waste what little time he had left with his Lightbreathing on a feeble effort.

    So he punched with intent to cause maximum pain, aiming for the softest thing he could find, and the Face Eater howled in response, letting go of him. It was, all things considered, lucky that this happened to be a male and that the monsters of Hell just so happened to have genitalia, but he knew better than to question little mercies.

    Especially when a bigger problem was rapidly approaching.

    That problem being the ground itself.

    He was falling, and falling fast. He couldn¡¯t fly, couldn¡¯t glide, couldn¡¯t really do anything that could make this better so he braced himself for impact as he smashed painfully through tree branches. All he could hope for was that they might slow him enough to make his landing less brutal. That wasn¡¯t how things worked in real life- in real life he¡¯d be more likely to get skewered than slowed- but with his new, impossible resilience maybe the wood would give before him.

    He would never find out though.

    The Face Eater screeched again, shooting in between trees and coming straight at him. Nero braced himself and still had the wind taken out of him as the thing¡¯s large form smacked into him, sending Nero shooting downwards into a tree, cracking it on impact and leaving him to fall limply onto the ground.

    He met the earth hacking up spit, still alive, but he knew he wasn¡¯t even nearly in the clear. The screeching told him the beast was coming again, and if he stayed on the ground, he wouldn¡¯t be hacking much longer.

    Nero got to his feet, saw the predator swooping down like an eagle and leapt out of the way. This time when it struck the earth he was ready for the dust cloud and was ready for its second attack.

    He met its approach by stepping to the side just in time and slamming his fist into its form. The beast was sent rolling out of control, slamming through a tree and grinding to what looked like a dazed stop.

    Nero let himself enjoy the sight of its anguish and dreaded how quickly it faded. The Face Eater spread its wings and began flying at him again, red beady eyes more furious than he thought could be possible, the ghastly face of the man he¡¯d last killed staring right at him.

    He waited for its approach again, stepped to the side when it reached him and struck at it while it was flying past. Nero¡¯s fist met air instead of muscle this time as the beast changed directions midair.

    A feint.

    It''s changing tactics.

    That betrayed a dangerous level of intelligence, specifically when coming from a creature which was already this physically powerful.

    As it reached high up above the tree, Nero let himself humour the idea that it might perhaps be fleeing. Then it turned and he knew he wasn¡¯t going to get off that easy.

    This was Hell after all.

    Nero thought, assessed the limited number of options before him and began running away. He dashed past the trees, hoping that the dense forestry might be enough of an obstruction to hinder its flight. That was how he got away from the last one after all.

    Now he just had to find a similarly sized cave to crawl into like before time.

    That however, did not seem very likely.

    He took a glance back to see the Face Eater flying at him, twisting past trees with a supernatural grace and leaving them to bristle behind as gale force winds washed over the leaves.

    Nero urged his feet to move with as much intent as he could muster. It was all to no avail, the monster was too fast and he was too slow.

    It was almost on him again.

    Nero leapt to the side far too sluggishly, it clipped him mid jump, sending him to the ground hard. Nero bounced, rolled and came to a painful stop.

    He was barely up to his feet when the Face Eater¡¯s talons wrapped around his ankle and yanked him up into the sky.

    The ground retreated away from him and trickles of blood followed. That told him he was bleeding from the head. The light in his hand died, he urged it back to life with a thought but received only a flicker in response.

    Find this and other great novels on the author''s preferred platform. Support original creators!

    Fuck.

    It was hopeless, there was nothing he could do, Nero was going up against an enemy that was simply too powerful. He was dead, he should just give up, let it be over and done with.

    He would have too, if not for the annoying light that continued to fly around his head. Ember was a blur now and the sounds she was making were unintelligible to a mind as dazed as his.

    Still he could guess the sentiment, she was probably screaming his name, begging him not to die. All that whining. He didn¡¯t have too strong of a sentiment on whether or not he got to keep his life, he¡¯d had one before and he¡¯d made quite a shit-show of it. But he¡¯d long since made a promise to himself to keep on going as long as Ember lived.

    I¡¯ve broken too many promises to pick which ones I keep.

    He drew his free foot backwards and slammed it against the monster¡¯s body. It was a feeble blow, he could swear the face eater hadn¡¯t even felt it.

    ¡°Hear that, you ugly fuck¡­ You don¡¯t get to kill me.¡± He told it, words slurring, mind drifting.

    He slammed it in again, and again, and again. Nothing, it was a feeble attempt, senseless, useless, the definition of insanity. But Nero swore he would keep at it until his legs simply didn¡¯t work.

    The beast howled after another hopeless kick. Nero¡¯s eyes widened, for a moment he humoured the nonsensical idea that his attacks had somehow had an effect. A glance up told him the truth however.

    There was an arrow poking out of the monster¡¯s eye, it shrieked, this time in clear pain. It let go of Nero which filled him with a perfectly balanced mix of relief and raw terror while he fell.

    The fall came to an abrupt stop when an arrow shot through his shirt, pinning it and by extension him to a tree.

    Nero found Selvas far down below, sliding another arrow into her bow.

    ¡°Thank you!¡± He yelled out.

    ¡°It¡¯s coming around, get down from there!¡± She growled.

    She was right, the beast was circling down towards him again. He had no intentions of letting it get close. Nero ripped the arrow out of place, landed on a branch and leapt from it onto another.

    Nero lost his footing, slipped and met the ground with his back. He coughed, groaned but forced himself onto his feet. ¡°Fuck¡­¡±

    ¡°Are you okay?¡± Selvas asked, eyes up above, watching the circling beast.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so, no.¡± He cleared his throat and felt a sharp pain in his side. ¡°Yes, definitely not.¡±

    ¡°Well, we¡¯re not out of the woods yet.¡± Selvas warned. ¡°It¡¯s still on the prowl.¡±

    ¡°Ah, perfect.¡± He groaned.

    ¡°Take my dagger.¡± Selvas said, eyes flicking to her belt where a hilt poked out of a sheathe.

    Nero withdrew the blade, not at all surprised to see the runes etched into its metal surface. ¡°Done.¡±

    ¡°Here¡¯s the deal, we can¡¯t kill it.¡± Selvas started.

    ¡°Lovely.¡±

    ¡°But we can hurt it, really, really bad.¡± She finished. ¡°Right now it¡¯s unsure if we¡¯re still worth the effort of being prey, what we''re going to do is make it decide that we in fact are not.¡±

    Nero nodded. ¡°My guess is that¡¯s going to be easier said than done.¡±

    ¡°Good guess.¡± She replied.

    It was in fact a good guess. The beast was circling the air above them now, letting out that occasional deafening screech Nero was coming to expect from the Face Eater.

    It was going to come down soon, when it wanted, when it had decided that for whatever reason it was the perfect time to strike them down. Nero didn¡¯t like that, he didn¡¯t want to give it that luxury. He was going to force it into action.

    ¡°I have an idea, a bad one.¡±

    ¡°Oh no.¡± Ember sighed, face tight with worry. It made sense, she¡¯d seen his ideas, they often had a trend of ending up with him one wrong move away from death. All Hell¡¯s fault and none of it his of course.

    ¡°Go ahead.¡± Selvas said, lacking any hesitation. Her eyes were fixed ahead, pupils tracking the winged beast.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to run, and when it chases after me, you¡¯re going to shoot it¡¯s other eye out.¡± Nero told her. ¡°Can you manage that?¡±

    Selvas, frowned in thought for a moment and then shrugged. ¡°I guess we¡¯ll find out, go.¡± She said.

    Nero would have preferred to have needled out a more concrete answer, given that it was his life at stake, but he supposed that was just one of the many luxuries of time; a luxury he did not currently possess.

    ¡°You- you¡¯re not actually going to do it are you?!¡± Ember pressed, apparently she could see the consideration in his eyes.

    He answered by pulling in a deep breath and sprinting for the trees.

    The sound of Ember¡¯s shock was drowned out by the roar of the Face Eater. A roar that much to his deep displeasure, he could hear was getting closer.

    The Face Eater shot past Nero, circled around and was coming straight towards him, its one red eye filled with murder. Nero charged forwards, roaring and doing well to make a very loud and distracting meal of himself.

    He heard Selvas¡¯ bow spring lose, felt the arrow tear past him and saw the Face Eater twist out of the way. Shit, shit, shit, shit! The beast shot behind Nero and pounced on Selvas.

    It knew it was a trick. Well of course it knew, it was smart enough to figure that the true threat to a flying predator, any flying predator, was ranged prey. You¡¯re not still on earth Nero, the animals here are smart, capable, and fucking deadly.

    Now wasn¡¯t the time to beat himself up however, now was the time to fix his mistake.

    Selvas was pinned against the ground, trying and failing to wrestle the Eater off as it sunk its claws into her arms. He heard her scream, it was a piercing thing, and then she glared up at the monster and spat in its face.

    Nero was running before the beast could retaliate. He leapt onto the Face Eater¡¯s back, it was unwise, foolish and ill advised, but the time for level headed decisions had long since come and gone.

    Not a moment after Nero found a grip, the Face Eater shook and spun with such violence as to nearly send him shooting into a tree. The world was a swirl of mass and shapes as Nero struggled to hold on, brain sloshing around in his skull at speeds he knew no doctor would recommend.

    It was only a matter of time till he was swung off. That was bad, he didn¡¯t want to lose this advantage. It didn¡¯t matter that it could barely be called one.

    When fighting with an animal, be animalistic.

    Those were the last thoughts burning through his mind before he opened his mouth and closed his jaw around the thing¡¯s neck, sinking his teeth into its skin.

    The Face Eater clearly hadn¡¯t been bitten before, That made sense of course, anything inclined to bite a Face Eater was either powerful enough that it would be unlikely to survive the encounter, or just plain insane.

    Nero ignored what that said about him and focused on the moment. The creature was shocked, confused, it had stopped trying to jostle him around. That wouldn¡¯t last long however, so Nero capitalised.

    He raised a hand and slammed the blade right through the monster''s eye. The metal struggled against the tissue far more than Nero would have expected but eventually went through with a wet squelch, ruining the beast¡¯s one good eye.

    That it seemed was enough to force it out of its shock. It spun again and Nero¡¯s grip would have had better odds catching water than holding onto the Face Eater.

    He smacked into a tree and landed on his side, spluttering.

    His pain however seemed a mild discomfort when placed next to the Eater¡¯s. The creature¡¯s screech reached a new pitch of agony that Nero had once thought impossible and his ears were regretting entertaining such naivety.

    He winced and closed his palms against them.

    Nero had expected panic from the creature, he¡¯d wished to see it flailing around. What he¡¯d certainly not hoped for was for the creature to wear a deathly calm.

    With ruined eyes, the Death Eater turned its face directly towards Nero.

    ¡°I¡­It can still see you.¡± Ember whispered.

    Echo location.

    That was what the screech was, it was not one of pain. It was emitting a pulse.

    Nero¡¯s gut sank, he tried to scramble onto his feet but his body was having none of it, meeting him with agony where he demanded action.

    The Face Eater had no such problems, for it was already spreading its wings.

 Chapter 13: Survival.

    Chapter 13: Survival.

    The Face Eater beat its wings, lifting it off the ground and shooting straight towards Nero. All he could do to defend himself was cross his arms in a feeble guard and brace for impact.

    That impact never came.

    The monster flew past him, high above the trees and into the sky.

    It wasn¡¯t until it was barely a dot on the horizon that Nero let himself tear his eyes away from the demon.

    ¡°I guess we finally made it clear we¡¯re not worth the effort.¡± Nero sighed.

    Selvas was on her feet now, tying bandages with odd writings upon them where the beast had sunk its talons into her shoulder. She held a calm that was strikingly at odds with all that had just occurred . Her purple pupils settled on him with a surgical gaze. ¡°Are you hurt?¡± She asked.

    Nero tried to shift into a sitting position and it seemed the little squeal he let out was answer enough. ¡°A little, yeah.¡± He added.

    ¡°Don¡¯t move, only a potion can fix you if you accidentally puncture something in your insides.¡± Selvas said with a tone grim enough to leave him as still as a stone block.

    Like the ones across her arms, the rags she pulled out of her bag were inscribed with odd scripts on their surface. When she wrapped it around him he could feel the cuts in his skin begin to mend, the sensation however was far from soothing, it felt like his flesh was being stretched and dragged beyond their limits.

    Through grit teeth, Nero stayed still through it all.

    He let himself focus instead on the far more pleasurable fact that his hypothesis about the runes giving supernatural abilities to materials was correct.

    It wasn¡¯t long before the hunter was done tending to herself, soon she was kneeling next to Nero, poking and prodding his body and seeming to make a mental note every time he gasped in agony.

    ¡°Nothing broken,¡± She noted.

    ¡°Could have fooled me.¡± Nero grimaced.

    ¡°You kept your life alone against a Face Eater for a few minutes.¡± Selvas mused and Nero tried not to tense. Her eyes were settled on him again, making him feel like all his secrets were messily scribbled onto his face.

    He just had to think of a lie-

    ¡°Impressive¡± Selvas said, cutting his thoughts off with a word.

    ¡°Oh,¡± Nero grinned up at the woman, feeling a smirk work its way up the edges of his lips. ¡°Well, I simply met its animalistic instincts with my indomitable human spirit.¡±

    Selvas looked at him like he¡¯d shit himself, which generally wasn¡¯t the intended effect when he tried to flirt with women.

    ¡°Really Nero?¡± Ember shook her head in disappointment.

    ¡°You¡¯re in working condition, I¡¯d try not to put much pressure on your side if I were you.¡± Selvas said as if stepping out the path of projectile vomit. ¡°However if any impoverished addicts come your way I¡¯m sure you¡¯d be able to make quick work of them.¡±

    Nero winced and chose silence as she worked bandages around his cuts. Selvas seemed to prefer it, and when all was said and done they were back at the campfire. For all the trouble the Face Eater caused, Selvas seemed most distraught at the destruction of the camp.

    Thankfully it took less than an hour to get back into working condition however.

    Nero was soon on his back, gazing up at the twin moons and purple skies. Hell had stars it seemed, and like most things here, they were odd. The stars seemed to blink in and out of existence. Disappearing and then reappearing somewhere else. It was bizzare, terrifying and fascinating all at once.

    He wished he knew how it worked, doubted the people of this world did either, and loathed the fact that he could not ask.

    ¡°You¡¯re supposed to be asleep?¡± Selvas said. She had first watch,

    ¡°Yeah, can¡¯t.¡± Nero replied. He flicked his eyes over to see her sitting on a log, eyes gazing out into the black depths of the night. He wondered if she could see into it. ¡°Do you think we¡¯re gonna get ambushed by another Face Eater?¡±

    Selvas frowned in thought for half a moment. ¡°No, not unless we¡¯re very unlucky.¡± She replied. ¡°Face Eaters don¡¯t typically come this far out.¡±

    ¡°Ah.¡±

    ¡°But that¡¯s not why you¡¯re still up is it?¡± Selvas asked.

    Nero drew in a breath of air. ¡°Tomorrow, I¡¯m going to be hunting people, might even have to kill them.¡±

    ¡°Yes.¡± Selvas said, raw and simple.

    ¡°Your first time doing one of these types of jobs, what was it like?¡± He asked.

    Selvas sighed. ¡°I was thirteen, maybe fourteen.¡± She said, eyes narrowing as they pierced through the fog of the past. ¡°In preparation, my father told me I might feel shame, anguish and disgust in myself when it was all over.¡±

    ¡°And did you?¡± Nero asked.

    The flames'' light flickered, casting uneven shadows against her pale hair and face so that she seemed to be wearing a tattered mask of darkness. Her violet eyes held the fire within them, glowing. ¡°No.¡± Selvas said. ¡°I didn¡¯t, it was a job and I did it.¡±

    Nero swallowed, suddenly feeling quite cold. ¡°I see.¡± He nodded.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    ¡°You should get some sleep, Nero.¡± Selvas pressed. ¡°I can¡¯t have you dozing off on your watch.¡±

    Morning came far too soon, and Nero was up before Selvas as he had the last watch.

    They began moving quickly, Selvas had said the tracks were getting fresher, which meant they were getting closer to the bandits. Nero wasn¡¯t sure if he should feel relieved or anxious and before he could decide, it was night again, and they were staring down at a trio of men huddled around a campfire.

    They were close enough that he could hear them chatter, but too far to make out the words they were saying.

    Selvas was already readying her bow, eyes narrowing like an eagle upon a group of rats.¡°You circle around behind them.¡± She whispered, ¡°When I shoot the small one, you take the big one down with a surprise attack, that¡¯ll leave only one for the both of us to overpower.¡±

    Nero couldn¡¯t find any fault with that plan, nodded and slunk through the woods with deft steps. Once he was far enough away, Ember was speaking. ¡°You¡¯re not actually going to use that are you?¡± She asked, large eyes weary.

    Nero took a moment to realise what she was talking about. He had his hand closed tightly around the handle of Selvas¡¯s dagger. It had saved him before, it made sense that it could save him again. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I might need it.¡± He told her apologetically.

    ¡°You might not.¡± She countered. ¡°They¡¯re wanted dead or alive Nero.¡± She pressed.

    He closed his eyes, sighed then slid the blade back into its sheath. ¡°At the first sign of trouble, I¡¯m using this thing.¡± He told her.

    Ember¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°Thank you Nero.¡± She said, far too jolly at her little victory for the condition to cloud her mood.

    He was soon behind the big bastard, broad and with tattoos that ran up a bald head. It made sense that Selvas wanted this one down first, he looked like he could easily take both him and her in a fight.

    But that was back on earth, the rules here were different, Nero knew now. But how much different, If I built muscle mass how much would that help my physical abilities. Negligibly if it''s summative to my current strength, invaluably if it''s multiplicative.

    Now, like nearly all other times, was far from the best to find an answer to the questions that plagued him. Selvas¡¯ signal would come soon, and he¡¯d need to be ready for it.

    Nero drew in a breath and burned his gaze into the back of the bald man¡¯s head. A well placed hit to the back of the skull he knew could knock a man out in an instant but even a badly placed one should leave him seeing stars for a while. Moments. Minutes?

    More than enough time to down the third guy¡­Right?

    But what if he didn¡¯t hit him hard enough? They¡¯d have two opponents after them, and neither with any of his reservations about killing people.

    He had to tilt things in his favour.

    Nero reached for his blade and pulled it out from the sheathe.

    ¡°Nero-¡± Ember started but before she could finish, Selvas¡¯s arrow sunk into the smallest man¡¯s neck.

    Nero was sprinting at his target before they could register the shock. The remaining two were standing by the time he¡¯d halved the distance between them.

    He stepped on something brittle, there was a snap. The bald man was turning his head, Nero was losing time.

    He swung his blade.

    The man¡¯s head shifted.

    It connected with his neck.

    A deathblow.

    Or at least it would have been had Nero hit him with the blade and not the pommel. He had told Ember he wouldn¡¯t kill him unless he had to, and he intended to keep that promise.

    If his opponent was moved by his sentimentality however, he didn¡¯t opt to show it.

    The man stumbled forwards, hand clutching the new bruise to the side of his neck. By the shock, confusion and then relief in his eyes, Nero could tell he was certain he¡¯d just had his jugular opened up.

    You¡¯re welcome.

    No gratitude came, instead the man only pointed his hand at Nero with a nasty glare.

    Is this some kind of custom I don¡¯t understand?

    Something told him to duck and he obeyed it, just in time to see a bolt of lightning leap from the man¡¯s palm and sail mere inches past Nero¡¯s face.

    ¡°Holy mother of fuck!¡±

    ¡°A Lightning Caster.¡± Ember gasped.

    ¡°A Lightning Caster. Of course it''s a Lightning Caster, how could it not be one, how could I have been so foolish as to expect anything else than a fucking Lightning Caster!¡±

    ¡°Focus Nero!¡± Ember yelled.

    That was enough to snap him out of his hysterical fit. The other man, the one Selvas hadn¡¯t shot, was charging at her, shield carrying arrows where he¡¯d blocked her shots while his other hand held a blade held ready and eager to keep her from firing any more.

    That meant Nero shouldn¡¯t be expecting help from her anytime soon.

    He was on his own.

    The Lightning Caster¡¯s fist crackled with electricity and then with a snarl, he was coming at Nero. It made him green with envy that he couldn¡¯t use his Lightbreathing to match him.

    ¡°Well, let¡¯s get this over with then.¡± He sighed.

    The man¡¯s arms came like pistons; all force and power. Nero¡¯s body was sluggish to react and protested every time he dragged it out of the path of danger. He had the Face Eater to thank for that and Selvas¡¯ rags to thank that he had healed enough to move . He could barely get out of the way in time, and when his inevitable failure came, it was from a blow to his shoulder that had his teeth rattling.

    The pain was hot and piercing, like the venom of a snake burning through his skin and settling in the deepest layer of his flesh.

    He stumbled, nearly lost his footing but did everything in his power to keep that from happening, He wasn¡¯t a fighter, as was readily apparent when the playing field between him and his opponents was even slightly levelled, but he knew enough about combat to infer that falling to the ground in its midst might as well be a death sentence.

    It was early into the fight, but things were already looking dire.

    Nero felt for his blade but found it missing from his grip when he did. A glance to the ground told him where it was, he must have dropped it when that vicious blow struck.

    He could still barely feel his arm.

    He needed to get on the offensive, and he needed to get on it quickly.

    He moved in as his opponent did, the change in tactic caused a hesitation in baldy, Nero capitalised by sinking his fist in his gut, he couldn¡¯t quite let the blow follow through without gasping in agony as his injured sides whimpered.

    Luckily, it was still powerful enough to make his opponent stumble, he used the opening to land a few more hits but a retaliatory attack was coming sooner than Nero expected.

    A deadly elbow swung for his face like an axe.

    Nero pulled his head back.

    Too late, it hit, a direct blow, hard enough to send him reeling. His head rang, the world was a blur and he couldn¡¯t tell up from down.

    ¡°Nero, on your left!¡± Ember screamed.

    He didn¡¯t know where left was, but the warning was enough to let him know his opponent was coming for him again.

    He lashed out a desperate fist at the largest shape approaching him and to his relief and amazement he felt his hand strike something solid.

    His vision returned to show him a Lightning Caster stumbling away while clutching their jaw.

    That was luck, a luxury he mightn¡¯t have more of.

    The man splayed his palm at Nero and a bolt of lightning was leaping for him again.

    He moved to twist out of the way, cried out in agony as his sides were tortured, forcing him into a stumble and braced himself as the lightning struck him directly.

 Chapter 14: Bright Lies.

    Chapter 14: Bright Lies.

    Getting struck by lightning fucking sucked. Nero had guessed as much, but there was nothing like a good demonstration to put all his doubts aside.

    The bolt blasted him in the chest, picked him up off his feet and slammed him into a tree. It ravaged through his body with painful jolts. Those jolts elicited spasms, those spasms caused pain to flare up where the Face Eater had hurt him.

    It was hard to focus, hard to breathe even, the electricity was suffocating, squeezing the life out of every single sensation but pain and agony.

    ¡°Nero watch out!¡± Ember yelled, thin voice cutting through the anguish.

    The Caster was readying another bolt.

    Nero leapt out of the way.

    It struck the tree behind him with a sound like the sorts of things usually compared to lightning, igniting it into an explosion of fire and sparks in an instant.

    Nero hit the ground hard and his body tortured him for it. He did his best to ignore the pain and did so poorly. He was on his feet soon enough to see his opponent charging at him.

    The fight was over, he wasn¡¯t sure he could keep on going if he was hit again. He was barely going even now. Dread set in, anguish that he couldn¡¯t have done better, thought better. He was losing hope, and that was when a glimmer of it showed.

    His hands aren¡¯t bathed in electricity. Nero noticed. Must be out of magic.

    That meant it would be a purely physical contest between them now.

    There was hope, and Nero would cling onto it.

    He met his enemy¡¯s charge with his own.

    The Caster was slow, slower than him and ordinarily Nero was certain he would have been able to dance rings around the bastard, but in the condition he was in, the only thing he could hope to do was weather his punches.

    And he raised his guard to do just that.

    They came as quickly as before, cannon-barrel arms firing off. The first met him with a direct hit, and Nero was suddenly aware that he could take the bastard¡¯s punches. He grit his teeth, did well not to get jostled and braced himself for his next attack.

    It came and was repelled just like its predecessor. There was a panic in the Caster¡¯s face, but he didn¡¯t seem even half discouraged, the opposite if anything.

    The blows kept on coming, like an angry rain and Nero stood defiant against the storm. He couldn¡¯t do so forever however, it was only a matter of time before his hands hurt too much to be raised in time and something slipped past his guard.

    He waited patiently, looked for an opening and struck when it revealed itself.

    There!

    The man overextended in his strike and Nero seized the opportunity.

    His fist met the Caster¡¯s jaw, sending him stumbling and racking Nero with protests from his sides.

    Nero moved to pounce, covering the distance between them as quickly as he could, his body protested, he stumbled, ignored it and struck again, he couldn¡¯t bring himself to follow through this time but the blow was hard enough to leave the Caster disoriented.

    He just had to take him to the ground and this whole thing would be over.

    Nero pressed on the advantage, lashing out blows every which way he could, not giving his opponent even a moment of space. The Caster was a titanic cliff and Nero was an endless tide, chipping away at its form inch by inch with every wave.

    The man lashed out a wild elbow, Nero wasn¡¯t expecting it, he couldn¡¯t move out of the way.

    It sunk into his side, stealing his breath and punishing him with a world of pain. Nero was hunched over, stumbling back. Ember screamed a warning, but it was too late, the man struck again, sending Nero to the ground.

    This is bad¡­

    The man straddled him, legs on either side and hands wrapped around his throat. He was choking him. Nero punched upwards, but the angle was awkward and the blows couldn¡¯t do much damage.

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember cried out.

    But he couldn¡¯t do anything. His killer glared down at him with hot hatred in his eyes, bruises and cuts littered his face from where Nero¡¯s fist had struck and he clearly intended on paying that tenfold.

    Nero could feel a pressure build in his head. It felt like it was going to come apart.

    Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work!

    He knew what he had to do, knew he was going to die if he didn¡¯t, but he couldn¡¯t tell if Selvas could see him. That doesn¡¯t matter right now.

    Nero set his hand alight with that familiar golden light.

    The man¡¯s eyes widened and then they were shut tight as Nero¡¯s fist slammed into his face as hard as he possibly could, ignoring the screaming pain in his side. He knocked out teeth and sent a spray of blood onto the grass.

    The man¡¯s hands went slack around Nero¡¯s throat and he collapsed on top of him as a groaning and groggy mess.

    Nero drew in a big gasp of air then winced as it hurt his sides to do so. Relief washed over him, sweet, perfect relief at knowing he would in fact not be dying today.

    And then, reality hit him.

    Selvas!

    He shoved the Caster off of him, rolled to his feet and scanned the area for the woman.

    He found her, backing off from swings of her opponent¡¯s blade. She was a ranged specialist and with only a dagger to defend herself in close quarters, it would only be a matter of time before that blade bit into her flesh.

    Nero ran at the man. His target saw him but was far too stunned to react. He tackled the last bandit to the ground and regretted it when he painfully landed.

    The two separated on impact with the earth, but when Nero scrambled to his feet to finish the fight, he found that Selvas had already done it for him.

    The man was gurgling on an arrow that had pierced through his neck and stuck out the other side. Nero looked away, but he could still hear him die.

    ¡°Next time, use the sharp end of your dagger.¡± Selvas said, voice edged.

    He was met with her glaring eyes, the purple things were narrowed like the gaze of a predator, her hair was a worn mess of wild silver strands and light cuts dotted her skin where the man had just about managed to strike her.

    She was panting, heaving, flesh coated with sweat.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± He apologised, feeling a unique mix of dread and regret worm its way through him. He had just nearly killed her after all.

    Her gaze flicked over to the downed Lightning Caster then back to him. He saw her focus on his chest where he¡¯d been struck with lightning, his shirt was in tatters there; black and charred, torso covered in blood. She looked at his hands, they weren¡¯t glowing, thank god, but a silent question hung in the air, one that made Nero¡¯s throat tighten.

    Selvas never asked it however. Wordless, she walked past him, stopped in front of the Caster. She reached into her bag, pulled out thick heavy runed shackles and closed them around the man¡¯s hands and feet.

    Nero assumed they must have been special restraints made for people with supernatural strength, Or, he supposed, normal restraints for this place. A must in a world where individuals as powerful as him walked around.

    ¡°You hold onto his chain.¡± The woman said.

    Nero hesitated, not too pleased with the idea of holding a man by a chain, even if he is someone who tried to kill him.

    Selvas sighed, ¡°You can either do that or be the one to chop his friends heads off. We do have to bring back proof of a job done and I¡¯d rather not haul a corpse home with us.¡±

    Nero swallowed. ¡°I think I¡¯ll do the holding.¡±

    Nero didn¡¯t look at Selvas work, but he knew he would never forget the noise of her doing so. When she was done, she tossed the heads into a sack and then got to work on cutting the remains of the corpses into little pieces.

    When Nero caught a glimpse of it; a glimpse which he would forever regret, he asked her what she was doing and she told him she was making bait.

    The job was done, but it was still night and Selvas didn¡¯t recommend travelling through the forest when it was dark, so they¡¯d chosen to pass the night at the camp made by the outlaws.

    Nero was wracked by the uncertainty of not knowing if Selvas had seen him using Lightbreathing. He felt like she hadn¡¯t. He had only used it very briefly and he would bet good money that she was far too busy trying to save her own neck to have been focused on his fight.

    Still, he couldn¡¯t shake the doubt.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to go check on the traps.¡± The woman said. ¡°Do try not to get attacked by a Face Eater again, I am fairly sure in the state we¡¯re both in, you will die.¡±

    Nero scoffed. ¡°Can¡¯t have any fun with you around can I?¡± He joked, trying to ease the tension in his gut.

    Selvas stepped into the night and out of sight.

    ¡°I like her.¡± Ember chimed. She was happily floating around the open flame.

    ¡°She¡¯s terrifying.¡± Nero noted.

    ¡°But she¡¯s really pretty.¡± She shot back.

    Nero raised an eyebrow. ¡°You know, you¡¯re very shallow for an imp.¡±

    ¡°I''m the only imp either of us have ever met, I might be par for the course, or even quite mild compared to the norm.¡± She grinned.

    ¡°Oh, that¡¯s funny, I don¡¯t think anything I¡¯ve encountered in this world is even half as horrifying as that thought.¡± He observed.

    Ember giggled and Nero smiled.

    It was a good moment, a moment of peace. But not good enough to make him forget the horror in her face each and every time he¡¯d almost died. He made a promise, he wouldn¡¯t die, not while they were still connected to one another, and he intended to keep it.

    He¡¯d need to get stronger.

    But how?

    ¡°What¡¯s wrong Nero?¡± Ember asked, smile fading.

    ¡°Nothing.¡± He replied quickly.

    ¡°You¡¯re lying.¡± She shot back.

    He rolled his eyes. ¡°And you know this how?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Your face, you were wearing your thinking face, it makes you look very silly.¡± She replied.

    Nero ignored the last part. ¡°Fine, I¡¯m trying to figure out if I could use you know what to do ranged attacks.¡± He told her.

    ¡°Like the Lightning Caster?¡± Ember realised, nodding.

    He nodded back. ¡°Would be helpful, I can imagine more than a couple close calls that a mid ranged attack would have made less close.¡±

    Ember frowned in thought, features crumpling like paper. ¡°I¡­ I think it can.¡± She said after a moment. She looked half-fatigued.

    ¡°Good, good.¡± Nero smiled. ¡°We¡¯ll figure out how to do it then, together.¡±

    Ember beamed back at him, nodding.

    He¡¯d have to find a time and a place he could safely practise his magic when they were back at the town. It would have to be during the day too, because that was when his Lightbreathing was least likely to stand out and be easily spotted.

    Then there was combat. Back on earth he¡¯d never picked that up, never seen the reason to. Why learn martial arts when the system already does all the fighting for you. Now that safety net was gone and, several times now, the only thing that stood between him and certain death was his own two fists.

    He¡¯d have to ask Selvas to teach him then.

    If she doesn¡¯t turn me in to the Demons first thing when we get back home.

    ¡°Fuck,¡± a loud slurring voice coughed out. It was the Caster. Nero had chained him to a particularly sturdy tree not too far from the fire.

    His eyes flowed across the woods like a boat drifting through water. It settled abruptly on Nero. There was something burning like a tempest in his gaze. Nero had made the silly mistake of assuming it was hate, how wrong he was. ¡°I know who you are.¡± He said, voice croaking and weak. ¡°Lightbreather.¡±

    Nero felt his blood run cold.

    Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

 Chapter 15: Confrontation.

    Chapter 15: Confrontation.

    A great many things were shooting through Nero¡¯s mind as he stared at the man in front of him. Not many of them were good, in fact most of them left him filled with a fair amount of dread and panic.

    He focused on the happy thoughts however. Happy thoughts, that¡¯s what will help me get through this. Perhaps he had simply misheard the man, perhaps he had said ¡®Wife beater,¡¯ he must have been mistaking Nero for someone else, someone with quite alarming anger issues.

    ¡°Light Breather¡­¡±

    The man said again, crushing his hopes with one phrase.

    ¡°Are you quite alright?¡± Nero asked, swallowing his panic and wearing calm. ¡°You got hit in the head rather hard back there.¡±

    He shook his head defiantly and winced at the effort. ¡°No, I know what I saw, you¡¯re the Light Breather, the Light Breather.¡± He said with a certainty Nero knew he wouldn¡¯t be budging any time soon. If it was just them he could spend the night making him think he was crazy, but he couldn¡¯t risk Selvas coming back and getting wind of this.

    Now there was the question of what to do with the man. He knew his identity, he was a danger. You need to kill him. The thought was so intrusive, and serrated in his mind that Nero almost thought it wasn¡¯t his, but it was. He knew it was.

    If he blabbed to Selvas then she would know. He couldn¡¯t be certain what she would do, but he could bet good money that she wouldn¡¯t hesitate while doing it.

    It was decisions like these that Nero dreaded having to make, and it seemed it was those very same types of decisions Hell always seemed to have in store for him.

    This time though, through the raw entropy of chance, Nero would not be forced to make it.

    The man¡¯s face broke into a grin. ¡°The God of Hell, you¡¯re real, you¡¯re actually real, here to save us.¡± Relief coated his features, like a little boy finding out dragons existed.

    That was¡­ unexpected.

    Nero capitalised quickly, ever the snake-oil salesman. He made a shushing noise. ¡°Hey, hey, hey, keep it down, my companion doesn¡¯t know our secret.¡±

    To his credit, the Caster did as much, nodding. He was silent for several moments, clearly drinking in the realisation. Soon enough, his mind was working and Nero knew exactly where it would end up before it even started. ¡°Y-you have to free me.¡±

    Nero winced. ¡°I¡­ I can¡¯t. You¡¯re wanted dead or alive, it¡¯d be unsafe to just let you loose on the world.¡± Nero had never been religious, but he did admire the way theology could be used to twist people against their own self-interest and never hesitated to use it to his advantage back on earth. It was amazing the things people would agree to if they thought God wanted them.

    The Caster¡¯s eyes widened. ¡°Un- unsafe? We¡¯re not psychopaths, all we did was steal from the Chief¡¯s personal coffers.¡±

    Nero blinked.

    ¡°Please, you have to believe me, they¡¯ll kill me if you take me there.¡± The man urged.

    He did believe him, no one was that good at lying. Well no one except him really. I just killed two people for the crime of¡­ stealing?

    He¡¯d thought they were wanted for something serious, not fucking theft. When are you going to get it into your thick skull that this isn¡¯t earth!

    His hands were cold, they were trembling, he felt sick.

    Ember hovered in front of him. ¡°Nero you have to help him.¡±

    ¡°I know, I¡¯m going to, I just need to figure out how.¡± He said, fists clenched.

    He realised that he¡¯d spoken to Ember out loud, turned to face the man but found his eyes shut and head lolled backwards.

    He was pretending to be unconscious and Nero quickly realised why.

    ¡°He¡¯s still out.¡± Selvas said from behind him and Nero nearly jumped in terror. He turned to see the woman emerging from the darkness. Far enough to not have heard our discussion.

    ¡°It appears he is.¡± She was holding rabbits- or at least what Nero liked to call rabbit, they had more eyes than he was comfortable with rabbits having and tentacles instead of feet. ¡°Ah, you caught something.¡± He grinned, instantly burying all terror.

    ¡°You¡¯re quite perceptive.¡± Selvas stated in her usual monotone way. No sign of suspicion then, there¡¯s a chance I might be in the clear.

    ¡°And just as warm as the last time I saw you.¡± Nero noted. He stole a glance at the Caster who was thankfully silent. He did blink his eyes open to steal glances at Nero.

    That¡¯s rather annoying, it might tip her off.

    There was however no way Nero could possibly correct him without making things much worse so he simply drew attention to himself. ¡°We should do this more often.¡±

    ¡°Huh?¡±

    ¡°You and I.¡± Nero said. ¡°We make a good team.¡±

    The woman raised an eyebrow. ¡°You almost got me killed.¡± She reminded him.

    ¡°Almost.¡±

    Selvas gave him a considering look and finally after what seemed to be strong deliberation, nodded in agreement. ¡°You¡¯re right, we do make a good team, a better one soon as you stop being squeamish.¡±

    ¡°Squeamish? I¡¯m not Squea-¡± Nero was interrupted by Selvas deciding that now was the moment to throw a severed head in his lap. ¡°Oh my fucking god!¡± He let out a high pitched shrill, fell on his back and scrambled away.

    For the first time he saw the woman grin. ¡°Squeamish.¡± She repeated, triumphantly.

    This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

    She was a psychopath, clear and simple. Not just cold, not just really cold. She simply didn¡¯t respond to human things in human ways.

    Then why did he have second thoughts about betraying her?

    It didn¡¯t matter what he thought though. It had to be done and it had to be done soon. A man¡¯s life was in the balance and he was responsible for that. Tomorrow, when they were travelling through the woods, before they reached Stradale, that¡¯s when he¡¯d do it, that¡¯s when he¡¯d have to do it.

    ¡°I¡¯ll take the first watch, you sleep.¡± Selvas told him. ¡°Have to roast the meat either way.¡± At that the woman hoisted the not-rabbits up again, and began the act of butchering.

    Morning came with its usual heat and Nero didn¡¯t find himself all that bothered by it. He didn¡¯t know if that was because he was getting used to Hell or because his mind was far too plagued with what he had to do.

    Both answers upset him.

    They were moving soon enough, and moving in silence while at it. If he hadn¡¯t known any better, he might have guessed that Selvas was onto him, but he had been in her presence long enough to know that silence was merely her preferred state of being.

    Ember on the other hand was as tense as an uncoiled spring. Nero hadn¡¯t told her anything yet, but she knew he was going to have to do something to save this man from execution. It was not hard to imagine that Selvas might serve as an obstacle to that particular goal.

    The Caster, by contrast, made Ember look completely calm. He was constantly stealing glances at Nero with pleading eyes and he had to reassure him with cool calm and collected nods that everything was in fact okay and that he was working on saving him from certain death.

    It was a great deal of information to try and convey through only his eyes, mind, but Nero reckoned he managed it.

    He had had a great deal of time to think about how best to neutralise Selvas. He would use his Light Breathing to knock her out; it would have to be done sufficiently close to Stradale so she could get back home without any problems, yet far enough from the path that they wouldn¡¯t be interrupted by any passing hunters. He knew a river that was just the right spot and it seemed they had reached it.

    ¡°We should get some fish.¡± Nero suggested, doing well to keep his tone casual.

    Selvas turned those cold purple eyes upon him and frowned. ¡°We already have food.¡±

    ¡°Not to eat, to sell.¡± Nero corrected. ¡°You may have a house and stuff but I¡¯m pretty much homeless and need all the money I can get.¡±

    Selvas¡¯ frown deepened and Nero¡¯s heart quickened in response. Every second she spent deliberating felt like as many minutes. Her eyes flicked over to the Caster and then back to him. ¡°Chain him to the tree and meet me there.¡± She said and headed towards the river.

    Nero nodded. ¡°Of course.¡±

    Once she was gone, he grabbed the Caster¡¯s chain and bolted it around a tree. The man¡¯s eyes widened, shock, panic and confusion settling in. He was whispering hurriedly. ¡°Y-you don¡¯t have to chain me, you can just let me go, let me run off, you¡¯ll never hear from me again-¡±

    ¡°Relax.¡± Nero told him softly. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± He asked the man.

    ¡°Boris.¡± He replied.

    ¡°Good, well Boris the only reason why I¡¯m bolting you around the tree is because I¡¯m half sure she has supernatural sight and would easily be able to check if you really are bolted from far away.¡± He told him.

    Relaxation set in and the man¡¯s breathing slowed.

    Nero met his eyes. ¡°I¡¯m going to save you Boris, the next time we meet, you¡¯re going to be a free man.¡± He told him.

    The Caster held Nero¡¯s eyes then nodded. ¡°Th-thank you God of Hell.¡±

    Calming people, reassuring them, giving them hope, these were all tactics he¡¯d honed to swindle people out of their savings. It felt relieving to finally use them for something good.

    Nero turned, and made his way for the river. Selvas was already there, eyes on the flowing water and back turned to him. ¡°Took you long enough.¡± She said, not bothering to turn around.

    Nero could feel his heart pounding against his chest. ¡°Heavy chains.¡±

    Selvas didn¡¯t reply, she merely pulled back her fishing spear and stabbed it into the water.

    Nero calmed himself, drew in a breath and let his Light Breathing cover his palms. It was now or never. He steeled his jittery nerves, burned away his hesitation and moved to strike.

    ¡°I know you¡¯re lying to me Nero.¡± Selvas said.

    The words halted his movements in their inception, his focus slipped and his magic died in his hands.

    ¡°Wh-what?¡±

    Selvas turned to him, winter eyes piercing through his deepest secrets. She held the spear with a tight grip. ¡°Many things I¡¯d reckon, who you are, where you come from and most importantly, your magic.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I see.¡± He swallowed.

    ¡°I want to let you know that you can keep your secrets as long as you can promise me it¡¯s not a danger to me or mine, I won¡¯t pry.¡± She told him ¡°It¡¯s not rare that people pass through Stradale with a past of their own, the circles are cruel worlds and some identities are best left forgotten. It¡¯s not rare either that a Caster keeps their magic a secret, not letting people know what you have under your sleeve is a good way to stay alive, even if those people are allies. Especially if they¡¯re allies.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ thank you.¡± Nero told her.

    ¡°Promise me, Nero.¡± She urged. ¡°Promise me you¡¯re not a danger to Stradale.¡±

    ¡°I promise you.¡± Nero said quickly. ¡°I¡¯m not a threat.¡±

    Selvas seemed mollified. ¡°If we¡¯re going to be working together, it¡¯s best we have an understanding.¡± With that, she nodded, turned around and went back to fishing.

    Nero just stared at the back of her head, not exactly sure how to process everything he¡¯d just been told.

    ¡°Nero¡­ you have to tell her.¡± Ember pressed.

    Of course he did, if he didn¡¯t now he¡¯d just come across as an asshole. Fuck! He drew in a deep breath and spoke. ¡°Selvas, I need to tell you something.¡±

    She turned around with an annoyed expression. ¡°Is it that you¡¯re going to be helping instead of standing there and watching me fish?¡±

    ¡°I think we should free the Caster.¡±

    ¡°What are you on about?¡± She asked, turning around to stab through him with hot eyes.

    Nero suddenly felt far less confident in his decision. ¡°He told me all he did was steal crystals from the Chief¡¯s coffers, if that¡¯s true I don¡¯t think that¡¯s a crime worthy of death.¡±

    Selvas¡¯ eyes narrowed. ¡°It doesn¡¯t matter what you think, all that matters is what the Chieftain does.¡±

    ¡°What does that even mean?!¡±

    She looked on the verge of snapping, then reined herself in. ¡°They stole from him, it was a humiliation, he¡¯ll want them punished-¡±

    ¡°Who cares what he wants.¡± He cut in.

    ¡°He does!¡± She snapped ¡°And if he doesn¡¯t get it, he¡¯ll make Stradale pay. If we don¡¯t bring him the heads of the humans who wronged him then to him that¡¯s a failure on our part, we might as well have colluded with the people who stole from him in the first place.¡± She told him.

    ¡°I¡­¡± Nero found himself at a loss for words, there was only a tightness in his chest. He glanced at Ember who looked as lost as he felt.

    Selvas continued. ¡°You¡¯ve seen how the town is, you know how much we suffer, you can imagine how many more will die if things get worse.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I told him I¡¯d save him.¡± Nero said, hollowly. ¡°That was the last thing I said to him.¡± A lie, a filthy fucking lie.

    ¡°That was the last thing you said to him?¡± Selvas asked, word carrying a heavy weight for a reason Nero couldn¡¯t exactly place.

    ¡°Yes, why?¡±

    Selvas didn¡¯t answer his question. She simply slid an arrow into her bow and fired it off into the distance. A small thud followed.

    Nero felt like a knife had just been twisted in his gut. ¡°Wh-what did you just do?¡± He asked, voice strengthless.

    ¡°I killed him, arrow straight through the head.¡± She explained, voice cold, so cold. Like the depths of the arctic sea.

    Anger was replacing anguish now and Nero didn¡¯t know how or when but he had grabbed Selvas by the collar, lifted her off her feet, and was snarling in her face. ¡°Why the fuck did you do that?!¡±

    ¡°Nero stop!¡± Ember begged, but he wasn¡¯t listening.

    The woman didn¡¯t flinch, she merely looked at him as if he were tumbleweed. ¡°Because he was going to die anyways, now he dies with the last thought going through his head being hope.¡±

    ¡°Wh-what?¡± Nero turned his head to look at the corpse but Selvas spoke before he could.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to see that.¡± She said, ¡°You¡¯re squeamish, remember. I¡¯ll deal with the body and sever the head.¡±

    Nero¡¯s grip loosened around the woman¡¯s collar and Selvas landed on her feet. She handed him her spear. ¡°You can fish while I work.¡± She told him and walked past him.

    Nero fell to his knees and stared at the flowing river. After some time, he could hear Selvas pick up the body behind him and travel deeper into the forest. Where she could dismember it without him hearing.

    ¡®I¡¯m going to save you Boris, the next time we meet, you¡¯re going to be a free man.¡¯

    Just another load of fucking horseshit.

 Chapter 16: Glory for Murder.

    Chapter 16: Glory for Murder.

    Nero didn¡¯t know when they¡¯d gotten back to Stradale, the rest of the walk there was a blur to him, one filled with a swirl of emotions and none of them good. They constantly jostled his mind one way or the other.

    One moment he was thinking. and the next he was being cheered on by the men and women of the town. They had gathered at the entrance, and upon seeing the sacks had erupted with joy.

    How could they not? It was confirmation that they wouldn¡¯t be tortured by some sadistic bastards over another person¡¯s fuck-up.

    He hated this place, hated what it made people do, hated what it brought out in him. Ember had been quiet too, her face held low as she kept a good distance ahead of him.

    Nero received pats on the back as he made his way through the town, some hugs even. He would have hoped the smiles, the joy, the entire atmosphere around the town because of something he was responsible for would have made him feel better, but it only served to leave him more conflicted.

    Yes, more people had been saved by the death of Boris and his friends and yes, Boris shouldn¡¯t have stolen from a person who would use that as an excuse to bring down fire upon his own people. But he didn¡¯t deserve to die.

    The cheers continued, and it was becoming too much too quickly, Nero looked for the nearest gap in the mass of bodies and moved to slide through it.

    Something grabbed him by the arm, stopping him. It was Selvas. ¡°The Chief would probably like to see you.¡± She told him in a way that made him certain it was no request.

    Nero nodded and together the pair continued through the crowd. They approached what Nero had correctly assumed was the home of the ruler of this community and it looked just as grand as ever, standing with a might and polish that the decaying buildings around it could not hope to compete with.

    The crowd held back and the guards at the wooden gates stepped aside, opening it for the pair to step through into a courtyard.

    The chief was a Demon. Nero hadn¡¯t been surprised in the least, he¡¯d extrapolated as much just from being in Stradale and hearing the little he¡¯d heard of him. What did surprise Nero however, was how large he was.

    ¡°He¡¯s like a tree with legs.¡± Ember croaked.

    That was correct, easily twice the height of Nero, with crimson skin, a sharp pair of horns and rippling muscle.

    He knew he wasn¡¯t Mercury, knew that he had no idea who Nero was, and yet just being in the presence of another Demon left him suppressing shudders. He was plagued with memories of dying Inquisitors and a cowardly escape.

    He pushed his mind to focus elsewhere, and regretted it immediately.

    The courtyard was filled with about a dozen people who lined up in front of the Demon. On their wrist was a runed shackle, in their eyes was pure unbridled terror.

    Thralls.

    Nero had seen some doing labour around Stradale, property of the Chieftain he¡¯d been told, but the ones before him here were outsiders, new to Hell and filled with horrorrather than the empty resolution he¡¯d come to expect from their eyes.

    In between the thralls and the Chief was a tall, scrawny man with arms that looked like twigs. He had shrewd eyes and a tongue that spoke with greed. ¡°All high quality my Lord-¡± He began, pointing at the group. ¡°You know I wouldn¡¯t bring them to you if they weren¡¯t.¡±

    The Chief looked down at the man as if he were considering whether or not to step on a particularly chatty worm. Evidently he had decided not to. ¡°You are sure they are of good quality?¡±

    The man grinned with yellow stained teeth. ¡°Yes, yes, all straight from Dolore.¡± He said, grabbing a stick and poking a man between the ribs. He flinched but did well not to complain.

    ¡°Ah, and is he mighty?¡± The Chief asked. ¡°Or does he have a knack for the magics?¡±

    Might and magic.

    His physical strengths would be the former and his Light Breathing the latter.

    The man shook his head. ¡°No, but-¡±

    ¡°Are any of them gifted?¡± The Chief asked.

    Ah, so what¡¯s a gift then?

    It took Nero half a moment to decide that would be a trait like the one Selvas possessed, judging by their performances he was stronger than her physically but where his sight had remained mundane, hers was beyond human.

    ¡°N-not particularly my Lord.¡± The man admitted, wincing as he spoke. ¡°However-¡±

    ¡°Then why are you wasting my time!¡± The Chief roared. His eyes were twin flames, tongue forked. The sight made Nero¡¯s heart race. ¡°Come back here when you have thralls with worth, I have no need for any more lukewarm tools.¡±

    The man bowed his head, apologised profusely and slid out of view with all the grace of a lizard.

    This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

    Nero would have been grateful for the whole ordeal to have been over had it not meant that the Demon was now free to set its eyes on him. Those burning orbs landed upon Nero heavily enough to nearly drive the air out of his lungs.

    ¡°Ah, Selvas!¡± The Demon greeted, voice like gravel against sand. His lips split to reveal deadly razor teeth below. ¡°And Selvas¡¯ new friend.¡±

    Selvas was on a knee instantly, head bowed. ¡°My Lord, we thank you for granting us an audience.¡± She said.

    Nero followed suit with the gesture, getting on one knee and lowering his head in subservience without another thought.

    ¡°Nonsense, you bring me gifts, and I must receive them.¡± The Chieftain laughed. ¡°Now, let me see them.¡± He demanded.

    Selvas turned the sack over and Nero shifted his gaze away far too late to avoid the sight of human heads thudding against the ground. He fought the urge to puke and just barely came out on top.

    ¡°My, oh my. ¡° The Demon chuckled amusedly. ¡°I should have asked for at least one alive.¡±

    ¡°I hope they are to your liking, my Lord.¡± Selvas asked.

    ¡°Oh, they are, they are.¡± His eyes shifted once again to Nero. ¡°And you, boy, where are you from?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I-¡± Nero began.

    ¡°He¡¯s a wanderer my Lord.¡± Selvas interjected. ¡°A traveller who it seems has taken a liking to your grand town.¡±

    The Demon stroked his chin in thought, the upward tilt at the edge of his lip told him that he appreciated flattery. ¡°Is this true, Wanderer?¡±

    ¡°No my Lord.¡± He answered. Selvas for her credit did not pale at his reply, though there was a clear tension in the Demon¡¯s eyes. ¡°I am a traveller no more, Stradale is my home¡­ If you¡¯ll have me.¡±

    The Demon¡¯s grin grew ever wider, revealing more of those white-yellow cages of death once hidden behind his lips. ¡°I like this one.¡±

    It was a way to avoid more questions than were necessary while propping up the Demon¡¯s ego. Of course he liked it.

    ¡°Well, of course you¡¯re welcome, traveller.¡± The Demon replied. ¡°You have more than proven yourself worthy of a place within my walls, I decree you a citizen of Stradale and tie you to the land. He reached into his pocket and withdrew a leather parchment. Nero took it and saw that it was a document, one that granted serfs of Stradale the right to travel.

    Nero didn¡¯t feel relief at that, such an emotion was relegated for situations far less grim than the one he found himself perpetually in. I¡¯m property now. He felt a dull acceptance, and that was all. ¡°Thank you my Lord.¡± He said.

    ¡°You are welcome boy, keep being useful to me and I might see no reason to send you off to war.¡± Before Nero could fully process his words, the Demon spoke over his thoughts. ¡°Speaking of useful humans.¡± The Demon hummed. ¡°Executioner, come!¡± He suddenly barked with enough force to make the hairs at the back of Nero¡¯s palm stand.

    The great wooden doors of the manor swung open and from them emerged an imposing figure. This one a man rather than a Demon. He had hair like coal, skin like snow and eyes as cold as an eternal winter. The man was big, smaller than Boris but with the muscular definition to more than make up for the difference. In his hand was runed axe. An executioner¡¯s axe.

    He was a thrall, Nero knew it from the runed shackle around his arm. It should have made Nero pity the man. It only made him more terrified of the figure before him.

    ¡°Traveller, meet my Executioner,¡± The Demon greeted. ¡°I¡¯m sure you¡¯ve heard much of him already from his daughter.¡±

    Nero felt his lips dry at those words, he could do nothing but nod and breathe out a reply. ¡°Of course my Lord.¡±

    The man¡¯s eyes fell upon Selvas expectantly and she spoke. ¡°Hello father,¡± Selvas said, looking up at the thrall. Nero scanned her features for a betrayal of emotion, as ever he found none.

    ¡°Daughter.¡± The man nodded in acknowledgement. His voice was as grim as a cemetery.

    ¡°She¡¯s done well hasn¡¯t she?¡± The Demon asked, eyes wide with delight, like a child making dolls play.

    The man looked down at the trio of heads then back to Selvas. ¡°She has.¡±

    Seemingly satisfied, the Demon turned and made his way towards his home. ¡°Very well then, I¡¯ll have the heads placed on spikes in the town centre, a reminder of what happens to those who dare trample upon my rule. You are dismissed.¡±

    Nero thanked him and got to his feet. He almost missed the briefly held gaze between Selvas and her father before both turned around and headed in opposite directions. Him to the Chief and her to the exit.

    Nero followed behind. With all that had happened between them, he didn¡¯t even consider saying something, and he would have remained silent had Selvas not been the one to strike up conversation.

    ¡°You need to learn how to use a weapon.¡± She¡¯d said. They were in her house now, Selvas was sitting on a chair, sharpening her arrows. With a gaze so intense he thought the shafts might ignite under it.

    ¡°I¡­ I do.¡± Nero replied, recovering from the shock of hearing her speak slowly and awkwardly. ¡°I¡¯ve been considering using a sword.¡±

    Selvas glanced at him and had he just met her he would have thought she was doing it simply as a conversational quirk. He¡¯d like to think he knew the woman well enough to infer that she was deciding whether or not his physique would be good for swordsmanship.

    ¡°Sword sounds good. Takes a while to learn, compared to spears, but you do a lot of varied fighting. A versatile weapon is a sound pick. Ask around for the Blademaster Cain, they¡¯ll train you.¡± She nodded and then her eyes went back to the arrow and the sharpening resumed.

    For several minutes Nero had only the sound of arrows being sharpened to keep him company. Save from that, there was silence, and Selvas seemed perfectly at peace within that silence.

    On any other day, he would have been too, but today Nero felt like too much had happened between him and the woman for him to simply let the silence hold.

    She¡¯d killed Boris, and he wanted to be angry, and fuck it if he wasn¡¯t. But he also hated the fact that he understood and hated how much more he understood upon seeing her father. Yes, she¡¯d told him he was a Thrall. But he hadn¡¯t known he was alive, hadn¡¯t known he lived as a slave to the man who she served.

    He had to say something about that. He had to. ¡°Selvas, I¡¯m sorry-¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t be,¡± She cut in, not even bothering to look up at him. Her sharpening continued, the sound of stone sliding against steel piercing his ears at every interval. ¡°It¡¯s simply how things are.¡±

    ¡°They don¡¯t have to be-¡± He began, but Selvas¡¯ tongue moved quicker than his.

    ¡°Stop it.¡± She said icily. ¡°You keep acting like any moment now, you¡¯re expecting the God of Hell is going to behead the Three Faced Monarch, descend from Tradimento and deliver each of every one of us to Paradise himself, that it¡¯s some affront to reality that he hasn¡¯t already. Well he isn¡¯t and it isn¡¯t.¡± She snarled, ¡°Better yet that the fucker doesn¡¯t show up either way, given that the last Light Breather was on the side of the Demons.¡±

    What?

    Nero tried to hide his shock at the revelation, but he was sure he¡¯d done so poorly. Selvas only gave a quick frown in response, normally it would have been enough to have him internally panicking and scrutinising every inch of her face to get a tell for what might be going on in her mind.

    Today he could only struggle to drink in what she¡¯d just told him. ¡°I¡­ I see¡± He grasped at words but found them slipping between his clumsy fingers. ¡°I¡¯ll go find Cain now.¡± He wheezed and practically stumbled out of her home.

 Chapter 17: Trials and Tribulations.

    The cold night air of Stradale washed over Nero as he made his way through it. His mind was still spinning when he finally found a secluded place where he could talk to Ember.

    The Imp¡¯s glow was a dull thing, like the final moments of a dying lightbulb. Her head hung low and she stared down at her feet. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Nero.¡±

    ¡°So there were others?¡± He asked, finally giving voice to the first of many questions.

    ¡°One every one five thousand years.¡± Ember replied.

    A Light Breather every five thousand years. If Hell was still like this it meant the last one... Nero felt his guts squirm at the revelation. ¡°And the last one turned on humanity.¡±

    Ember softly nodded.

    ¡°Why didn¡¯t you tell me?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I was scared.¡± She replied.

    ¡°Scared?¡± He raised an eyebrow. ¡°Scared of what I¡¯d do. Do what?¡± He¡¯d hoped he¡¯d made sure she felt safe around him.

    ¡°Scared you¡¯ll give up on your destiny.¡± Ember replied.

    ¡°Ember, I¡­¡± Well, that was a perfectly legitimate worry, not least because Nero didn¡¯t know exactly how to feel about the whole saving hell thing. Suffocating, was how it felt now, especially after seeing just how deep the rot went, just how twisted this world was.

    This wasn¡¯t something he could just punch through, he couldn¡¯t save one man, much less this entire world. The thought of Boris was a cloak of melancholy over his already poor mood.

    ¡°It was my fault.¡± Ember said, voice tight.

    Nero stared up at her in confusion. ¡°What?¡±

    ¡°The last Light Breather, I couldn¡¯t save him¡­ I don¡¯t remember why I really, really don¡¯t, but I couldn¡¯t, it was all just too much.¡± Ember¡¯s face was crumpled with effort, one that Nero recognised as her struggling to recall events.

    He didn¡¯t like seeing her like this. He wanted to promise her he would save Hell, at the very least assure her he wasn¡¯t going to join the Demons. But he was Nero, and hearing that the last Light Breather was on the side of the Demons had his mind already turning to how exactly he could join the winning side himself.

    He was who he was after all, and there was simply no denying that.

    ¡°We should go find Cain.¡± He said, shifting the topic elsewhere. Thankfully Ember let him, as she replied with a nod.

    Finding the Blade Master wasn¡¯t hard, in fact it was one of the easiest things Nero had been able to achieve in Stradale. People were actually open to talking to and directing him now and all he had to do was not think about the reason why.

    Cain, it seemed, lived on a hill outside of Stradale. It was a steep climb to get there, not something he reckoned he could have done easily were he back on earth. However the magical might he¡¯d gained from Hell allowed him to make easy work of it.

    Nero found a tiny brown shack waiting for him at the top, the thing seemed to be barely holding itself together, and it was a wonder how it was still upright when faced with the winds that raged at this height.

    ¡°Are you sure we¡¯re in the right place?¡± Ember asked with a small frown.

    ¡°I can¡¯t say I am, no.¡± He replied. Still, this was where the townspeople said Cain lived, so that was where he would go. He needed to get stronger.

    He made careful steps towards the shack, and when he knocked on it the door swung open with a painful creak. Inside it was everything he thought it would be, caked in dust, debris and junk.

    It looked abandoned, Nero very much doubted anyone lived here, much less a Blade Master of all people. From the title he figured they¡¯d be sagely.

    ¡°You¡¯re the traveller aren¡¯t you?¡± A voice called from behind.

    Nero turned and found himself at a loss for words when his eyes found the speaker. It was a woman, wrinkled and grey, she looked like she¡¯d seen at least ten more decades than he had and would likely not see more.

    How she got up here was beyond him and he didn¡¯t even want to think of how she¡¯d get down.

    ¡°Uhm, hello there?¡± He greeted. ¡°I¡¯m looking for mister Cain.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m her.¡± The woman sniffed and now Nero could see a steadiness to her eyes, like the gaze of a predatory bird.

    ¡°Oh¡­ Oh.¡± He nodded. He shouldn¡¯t have been surprised, in a world where magic could allow him to punch into trees, making the elderly into swordsmen would be elementary. ¡°I didn¡¯t know you were a woman.¡± He explained, letting her perceive that as the focus of his shock.

    ¡°She¡¯s ooold.¡± Ember keenly pointed out.

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    ¡°What do you want?¡± The woman asked, she sounded grumpy, like there was a perpetual pebble in her shoe. He couldn¡¯t blame her, if anything he was surprised that every single person he met in this literal nightmare world wasn¡¯t like her.

    ¡°Well I was told this is where you live-¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s not, it¡¯s where idiots think I live.¡± The woman scoffed.

    Nero tried not to glare. ¡°I came here for training, I¡¯d like to learn swordsmanship.¡± He told the woman and watched the disinterest begin to cloud her features. ¡°I- I have crystals.¡± He spoke quickly.

    Greed was the expression she wore now, and still she sniffed. ¡°Very well then, I¡¯ll train you.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°If you can land a single hit on me before I hit you thrice.¡± The woman finished.

    Nero blinked. ¡°What? Why?¡±

    ¡°Because I only accept the best.¡± She picked up two branches from the dirt.

    ¡°That doesn¡¯t make any sense.¡± Nero countered.

    ¡°And why is that?¡± She asked.

    ¡°Because the best wouldn¡¯t need any training from you!¡± He snapped.

    The woman smiled, looking completely pleased with herself and at peace with the whole world. ¡°Exactly.¡±

    Nero huffed. Old bitch.

    The old woman walked over and slapped him across the face with one branch. ¡°Ow! What the fuck?¡±

    For a moment he thought she¡¯d read his mind, what she said next rid him of that misconception. ¡°That¡¯s one hit for me.¡± She hummed.

    Ember giggled, and Nero wasn¡¯t at all surprised to see the little shitter finding their new geriatric misanthrope of an acquaintance amusing. He didn¡¯t share her particular sense of humour.

    He clenched his jaw. ¡°Fine then.¡± Nero swung a fist with perhaps more force than he would have preferred, and hoped to god the woman was tougher than she looked.

    He never found out however, as his fist met air where her face should have been. She slid underneath his arm and sent a leg sweeping for his.

    It moved with a blur, like a cracking whip swung with all the force of an executioner¡¯s blade. She was fast. Faster than me?

    He scrambled backwards, just managing to dodge the hit and quickly being assailed by more attacks.

    The old woman came on like rain, the branches were a whirlwind, a storm and Nero was only barely able to stay out of its path.

    He needed to get on the offensive soon, but just how exactly did one fight the wind. Think, think, think-

    Suddenly, Cain stopped approaching. She merely stood in front of him with a smug grin on her wrinkled face.

    A glance behind him told Nero why. He was at the edge of the cliff with air and death awaiting him if he took another step backwards.

    Well aware of that, the woman took a single step forwards and gently poked his nose while Nero tried and failed to swat her attempt away.

    ¡°That¡¯s two touches for me.¡± She noted then hummed. ¡°Would you look at that, I only need one more to send you packing.¡±

    Nero glared openly at the woman who only laughed as she skipped backwards, stopping at the centre of the hill. She tossed him a branch and Nero caught it. ¡°How about we level the playing field a little.¡±

    Nero wasn¡¯t complaining. He tested the weight of the stick, not that he could tell what was good or bad weighting, it just felt like the right thing to do. He¡¯d seen it in movies.

    Cain didn¡¯t move, which meant she¡¯d wanted him to initiate the attack. Nero didn¡¯t mind, if anything he much valued the chance to change the course of this little battle they had going.

    Okay, she¡¯s faster than me.

    And it wasn¡¯t just because of his injuries, he could tell the only reason why he wasn¡¯t out of this yet was because she was underestimating him, taking it easy because she didn¡¯t see him as a threat. That was true for the most part, but he could also use that to his advantage.

    ¡°Are you just going to wait there, traveller, or are you actually going to come at me.¡± Cain laughed. ¡°Come on, I thought the young were supposed to be adventurous and daring. All I see is a pussy with an average sized stick to compensate for his below average sized one.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m thinking, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s quite a novel concept to you but where I¡¯m from we do it quite a lot.¡± Nero shot back.

    Cain laughed. ¡°Oh, nice, now if only your limbs moved as quick as your tongue did I wouldn¡¯t be so bored.¡±

    Nero ran at her, stumbled, regained his footing and swung his branch at her shoulder in a downward arc. She slipped past it like a breeze and then the onslaught came.

    Nero had expected to be on the backfoot and so he was prepared when the barrage of attacks came. He blocked better, dodged better and did well to calm his nerves as she sent him closer to the hill¡¯s edge.

    All things considered he was doing much better than before, which if being optimistic to a fault gave him a fraction of a chance of coming out of this on top.

    Cain on the other hand seemed perfectly confident in her victory. Calm smirk and all. If there was any time to spring his plan into action, Nero knew it would be now.

    And he did.

    He threw the hand-full of dirt that he¡¯d picked up when he ¡®stumbled¡¯ at the woman. It hit her face, her eyes and then she was blind, reeling backwards to try and clean the dirt out. ¡°Fuck!¡±

    Nero capitalised, his branch came racing for the woman¡¯s side like a bullet. She leapt backwards. Her reaction was quick, quick enough to stun Nero in seeing it performed by a blind woman, but not as quick as she was before he¡¯d blinded her.

    The branch caught her cloth, but nothing else. He¡¯d missed, but just barely this time.

    How is she still able to react to me?

    Perhaps she had something similar to what the Face Eater did. It didn¡¯t matter, now wasn¡¯t the time to theorise.

    It was the time to capitalise.

    Nero¡¯s branch came again, and this time it made a solid connection- to her branch. She blocked. Fuck. Her branch moved like a swarm of hornets, and Nero batted each sting back.

    Her blindness made her clumsier, yes, but there was something else too, her movements were less relaxed, her attacks less confident. She wasn¡¯t certain she could win anymore. Which meant he had a real chance.

    He swung again, this time with as much force as he could muster. Cain blocked. Like he¡¯d expected. Her branch snapped in half, he¡¯d hit it at a weak point.

    Nero jabbed his branch at her chest, making good use of his newly gained advantage in reach. The woman slipped underneath his attack, he raised a knee to meet her face but she¡¯d already wrapped her arm around his.

    Cain tightened her grip and made use of his own momentum to throw him over her shoulder and onto his back. Nero¡¯s old wounds and bruises flared up on impact and he saw painful lights in the corner of his vision.

    Cain wiped the last bit of dirt out of her eyes and smiled down at him. ¡°That¡¯s a third one for me.¡±

    Nero groaned and rolled onto his feet. Defeat was a bitter thing and while he knew there were people out there more powerful than him, seeing it demonstrated in suchstark terms in before his very eyeswas a different thing altogether.

    The fact that he¡¯d learned in the same act that he wouldn¡¯t be getting trained by one of the people beyond him was just salt in the wound.

    ¡°At this pace, I reckon you¡¯d be able to manage a hit in¡­ hmm, let¡¯s say thirty two days.¡± Cain said and tossed her half-branch off the hill.

    Nero frowned, needing a moment for her words to properly sink into his mind. ¡°You¡¯re¡­ You¡¯re going to train me?¡±

    Cain scoffed. ¡°Why wouldn¡¯t I? Dismissing you for training because you¡¯re unskilled would be stupid, don¡¯t be stupid Traveller.¡±

 Chapter 18.0: The Decisions That Make A Person.

    Chapter 18.0: The Decisions That Make A Person.

    Hell was horrible, it was terrifying, blood curdling, sick and twisted. But like a lot of things, it had a routine, and with enough time, minutes blended into hours, hours into days, and days and into weeks.

    After being accepted, Nero had spent the next day training with his new Master. Cain was a cruel woman, as her name might have suggested, She eagerly showed him as much through the boulders he was forced to lift, and the distances he was forced to trek while carrying them.

    He climbed hills until his pores had no more sweat to give and nails no more space to accommodate additional dirt crustings, ran so many miles he wondered whether he might have encircled the earth before finishing were he to do it back home. Swung big, overly heavy rods of iron with such excessive speed and regularity that he started flaying his palms with the grip required to handle them.

    He wondered if she was just being cruel to him, after all with his supernatural might he figured he didn¡¯t actually need to put his body through gruelling physical labour to be powerful.

    He kept his questions to himself however, so when night came he was a panting haggard mess and Cain a cackling witch.

    Nero had been able to needle out some bits of valuable information during the training sessions however. It seemed he was correct about Might being the root of his superhuman abilities and that it could be divided into Strength, Speed and Toughness. Cain had disgruntledly told him that he had an equal and unusually high amount of each for someone in Limbo, and that ¡®Most idiots as strong as you would have already gathered some other idiots to help you slay a summoning beast, left for Luxuria to begin their descent towards the Paradise Key and then promptly gotten themselves killed along the way.¡¯

    Luxuria was probably what they called the second Circle of Hell, so that much he had followed, but he found himself stumped by the other half of that sentence.

    Paradise Key?

    It seemed like perhaps one could somehow get to the heavens through the Nine Circles.

    Nero entertained the idea of perhaps descending through the circles himself, but the way Cain talked about it didn¡¯t make it seem like something that would end with his heart still beating.

    He could barely handle all that Limbo had thrown at him so far and was not eager to up the difficulty on himself already.

    He had to grow stronger, and luckily Cain was just the right person to help him with that. That night while Nero could barely feel his legs and could hear nothing but his heartbeat, she had said. ¡®There is only one way to improve Might, and that is to constantly push your body through horrible torture day in and day out to draw out your power through your vessel¡­¡¯

    It had all left her lips with a smirk that seemed fueled by the agony that coursed through him.

    At the very least that gave him some appreciation of his current predicament.

    His strength was being trained by having him lift boulders, durability was honed by taking punches from Cain and speed was gained through his endless running.

    It was speed that Nero had decided he should focus on the most however, because he had very little intention of weathering blows from monsters or getting into strength matches with them either, if he saw something he didn¡¯t like the look of, Nero wanted to be out of there as quickly as possible.

    When he had asked Cain for that, much to his relief, she had agreed to help him improve his speed without a second thought.

    He had gotten a small room for himself- half off as the innkeeper was a fan of him, and Nero wanted to do nothing but sleep in until his next training session with that evil, evil, woman.

    He couldn¡¯t however, he had more training to do, and lots of it. Boris was able to perform ranged attacks, in fact it had been a defining feature of their fight, he didn¡¯t know if he could replicate that but he wasn¡¯t just going to sit back and never find out.

    So Nero enacted his plan. When it was bright outside, he ventured out of the town and beneath the hills of the region where he practised his Light Breathing.

    He worked on holding onto his light for longer. That, he found, was more a matter of focus than anything else, and so were his efforts to make his Light Breathing burn brighter.

    Both were successful, the former far more than the latter however.

    His major concern was in converting his Light Breathing into a projectile. His approach was simple, he would think really hard at it. It had worked before, so why not try it again?

    He summoned a light in his palm, pointed it at the side of a hill and willed the light towards it.

    Nothing happened, save from precious Light Breathing time being wasted and Ember ¡®helpfully¡¯ pointing out as much.

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    Nero persisted right up until the early hours of the afternoon when he began to feel a tingling in his fingers. ¡°Wait, I think something¡¯s happening-¡± The light exploded in a violent flash, blinding Nero for a moment and leaving him stumbling in the dark.

    ¡°Fuck!¡± He cursed.

    ¡°We did it!¡± Ember chirped. ¡°Well not it¡­ but something. We did something!¡± She clapped.

    She failed to infect him with her positivity, but even blinking away stars and tears Nero couldn¡¯t deny that it was progress. Wild, chaotic progress, but progress nonetheless.

    He would continue tomorrow, it was time for him to go train with Cain.

    Nero went off in high spirits and found that spirit thoroughly beaten to a pulp after another day of gruelling torture.

    The next day he was off in the early morning again to work on his Light Breathing and in the afternoon he was back to Cain¡¯s insane sadism.

    The routine lasted for four days only to be interrupted on the fifth.

    Nero woke up in the middle of the night to the sight of a figure sitting on his window.

    He screamed, fell off the bed and nearly pissed himself.

    ¡°You¡¯re loud, people are trying to sleep.¡± Selvas informed him from her perched position on his windowsill.

    ¡°What the fuck are you doing here?¡± He hissed, finally recognising her.

    ¡°To talk to you. I thought that would be obvious.¡± She noted, actually having the nerve to sound irritated at his questioning.

    ¡°I mean, why didn¡¯t you knock, like a normal fucking pers-¡±

    ¡°There¡¯s something scary terrorising the farmers.¡± She interrupted, as if bored. ¡°And I know between paying for Cain¡¯s lessons and finding yourself a room, you¡¯re getting low on crystals.¡±

    Nero groundhis teeth. The woman was right.

    ¡°You and I are going to kill it.¡± She told him and without another word leapt out of the window and into the street below.

    ¡°Best you get dressed.¡± Ember said, actually looking excited at the prospect of heading out. Well of course she did, she wasn¡¯t going to be the one fighting the damn thing.

    Nero packed his things and went off hunting.

    It would have been a lie to say the hunt was uneventful, simply due to the fact that nothing in this place had the luxury of being called that. However it was not necessarily divergent enough from the norm to be noteworthy.

    Something ugly, terrifying and probably diseased needed killing and after a few days of work and several acts of violence, he and Selvas were able to kill it.

    The most notable thing wasn¡¯t actually the monster but the changes Nero observed during the whole ordeal. He was faster, not by much, barely even noticeable, but faster nonetheless, and that was only from five days of training.

    After that, there was a trip back home and a sadistic old hag waiting there for him. Then of course came the daily Light Breathing training.

    Every several days, Selvas would find a new way to break into Nero¡¯s home and inform him of an excitingly inventive new way he could get killed.

    A few times they had even ended up visiting the other towns over. They were horrible, just like Stradale. Nero didn¡¯t know why he was disappointed by that, maybe he had expected Stradale to be better, or perhaps worse than the norm. Either way those dreams were soon dashed.

    At the end of the second month of his routine, Nero had learnt how to keep his Light Breathing going for longer, from ten seconds to thirty to be exact, although that varied based on how intensely he made it burn. But all efforts to project it outwards as a ranged offence had only won him disappointment.

    However, he did achieve something.

    ¡°Ow!¡± Cain grunted, stumbling backwards and clutching her face. Her bruised face.

    ¡°Nero!¡± Ember chirped. ¡°You did it!¡±

    He looked at the practice sword responsible for landing the hit. It was a properly weighted thing, as Cain had begrudgingly admitted that he had learned enough to graduate from sticks on week number two.

    ¡°I¡­ I hit you.¡± He whispered, barely able to believe it himself. He¡¯d grown to think it would never actually happen.

    ¡°Yeah, yeah, it only took you twice the amount of time it should have.¡± Cain huffed.

    Nero glared. ¡°That¡¯s because I spent half the days I could have used to learn hunting twenty eyed horrors just to afford your fucking lessons.¡±

    Cain smiled brightly as if she were some sage sitting high atop a mountain. ¡°And for that you are welcome.¡±

    Nero growled, he actually heard himself growl. Then he drew in a sharp long breath and rolled his neck. ¡°You know what, this is a good day, and you can¡¯t take that away from me, despite how much you¡¯re clearly trying to.¡±

    He turned and without another word walked towards the town.

    ¡°She¡¯s funny.¡± Ember hummed.

    ¡°I seem to notice a pattern of you having quite a fondness for people I find utterly infuriating.¡± Nero observed.

    Ember only grinned, zipping about his head like some firefly. ¡°What can I say, I have great taste and you¡­ well, don¡¯t.¡±

    Nero sniffed, suppressing a grin.

    The walk back gave him quite a lot of time to think, and he used that well, to reflect on what he¡¯d been able to achieve today and what he¡¯d been able to achieve since.

    Cain was not half as horrible a teacher as she was a person, and it turned out her vigorous physical training was not put in place with the sole intent of torturing him.

    He was stronger and tougher now, significantly so, though not exponentially, speed however, that one he could feel the marked increase in it and was certain it wasn¡¯t just all in his head given that he had begun tracking his speed increase since the moment he began noticing a difference.

    Before it took him two minutes to run a mile, and now he could do so in just under one and a half. It wasn¡¯t a maddening increase like he would have hoped, but it was still something, and something, however little could mean the difference between Life and Death in this place.

    On top of that, the increase in movement speed it seemed had also improved his reaction time. Those two things weren¡¯t exactly linked back on earth, but it seemed they were in terms of Might.

    The same way speed, toughness and strength are linked in physics, but they aren¡¯t in terms of Might.

    He¡¯d also gained muscles on top of his Might and while his observations told him it was an insignificant additive boost to his Might, he still liked the physique it got him; he now very much appreciated the tone and definition that his body was gaining.

    It wasn¡¯t long before his walk brought him to Stradale, it hadn¡¯t changed much in two months and Nero found himself actually relieved at that. Knowing who was in charge and how much worse they could make it on a whim, in some sick twisted way, made him appreciate the maintenance of the baseline horror he had come to expect in the town.

    What did that say of him? Probably nothing nice.

    It was still in the earliest moments of the morning, and most people hadn¡¯t even gotten up yet. In fact the only reason why he was in the town was to get something to eat before he went back out to practise his Light Breathing.

    There was a crash, the sound of breaking glass, and it came from a building Nero recognised well. Gunther¡¯s. He heard the man¡¯s voice, but it was subdued, shouted over by what sounded like a roar.

 Chapter 18.1: The Decisions That Make A Person.

    Gunther came out of the shop stumbling, tripped on a rock and landed painfully on his face. He was a haggered thing, clothes torn, skinned bruise and eyes tight with anguish.

    Nero was on the verge of calling out to him when a second figure emerged from the shop. This one was big, broad and with a runed weapon by his hip. A town guard.

    Instinctively he slid behind a wall and obscured himself.

    The guard circled the smaller man, eyes like a cat toying with a mouse. ¡°I¡¯m going to ask you again-¡± He began, but Gunter cut him off.

    ¡°And I¡¯m going to tell you the same fucking thing!¡± He coughed. ¡°I don¡¯t have your fucking tax money, it¡¯s a nasty side effect of having my shop wrecked.¡±

    ¡°You think this is a joke?¡±

    ¡°A joke would be you thinking you have any power to change the laws of supply and demand just because you have a pointy bit of metal.¡± Gunther snapped, and Nero winced before the hit came.

    It didn¡¯t make it any less easy to witness, the guard cracked a kick into Gunther¡¯s gut and the potion master emptied the contents of his stomach onto the dirt with a violent hurl.

    Nero looked away before the assault began, instead he only heard it. The dull heavy thudding of a body being hit and the sound of Ember gasping right after every impact was enough to paint a visceral picture of everything that was happening.

    When it stopped, Nero opened his eyes to see a heaving Gunther on the ground. He was alive, bleeding from several cuts and bruises but alive nonetheless. He breathed a sigh of relief, then watched the guard spit on the helpless man and leave.

    He was jogging towards the healer in moments. ¡°Gunther.¡± He called out.

    ¡°Leave me alone.¡± The mean croaked.

    With motions of agony, Gunther crawled up to his knees. He pressed his palm methodically around his body, likely looking for injuries and wincing when he found a particularly bad one.

    His eyes stared ahead into a cold emptiness, like a man who¡¯d lost all reason to keep going.

    ¡°Gunther.¡± Nero called out again. ¡°Are you okay?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± He whispered as he got to shaky feet.

    ¡°The shop- how is it, what did he d-¡±

    ¡°I said I¡¯m fine!¡± The man battered Nero¡¯s words back into his mouth. His eyes were pools of fury now. ¡°Now is not the time for me to manage your guilt, yes, you¡¯re the reason why this happened and no you can¡¯t change it, the best you can do is leave me alone when I ask you to!¡±

    Nero actually flinched at his words and then his eyes were staring at his feet. When he looked up, the man¡¯s eyes were filled with regret.

    ¡°I¡­ I¡¯m sorry lad. I didn¡¯t mean to say that.¡± Gunther drew in a shaky breath, the signs of a man barely holding it together. Tears began to spill past the rims of his eye lids and without another word, he turned and made his way for his shop.

    Nero began marching through the streets. His heart was racing, fists curled and eyes hot with rage. He hadn¡¯t even thought about it, but knew where he was going, who he was looking for.

    ¡°What are you doing?¡± Ember asked, voice pitched with concern.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to hurt that guard very fucking horribly and then I¡¯m going to make sure he never touches Gunther again.¡± He told her.

    He didn¡¯t know how his eyes looked, but within them must have been something terrible because Ember failed to look at him. ¡°Nero, think about what you¡¯re doing.¡±

    ¡°I already did.¡± He told her calmly. ¡°That guard¡¯s name is Bently, I know all their names, I mean, there¡¯s only ten of them. And he¡¯s at the end of his shift, so what he¡¯s going to be doing after this is heading over to see his mistress, he likes to go through the back of the town so he¡¯s not seen, no one ever goes through there this early.¡±

    Ember¡¯s face was tight with a mix of horror and realisation. While mapping the routes of the guards, he had told her it was something he was merely doing out of boredom and not that it was being done in preparation for the day he needed to attack one.

    Well both would be false, he¡¯d done so because he never knew if he might need it or not. Today, it seemed he did.

    There was silence as Nero followed Bently, not even the sound of Ember¡¯s voice rang through the air. He kept a good distance behind the bastard, making turns long after his target had made them. There was no need to be quick, he already knew where the man was going.

    This book''s true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

    Soon enough, save from a pile of rubble to the side, the two of them were the only ones in the alleyway.

    He couldn¡¯t risk having his face seen, so he¡¯d have to be smart about it. He¡¯d have to move in quickly and effectively. Stradale¡¯s guards were all Mighty, not as strong as Selvas, he thought, but superhumans and trained to fight.

    It was now or never.

    There was a tightness in his chest for a long moment, he was hesitating. He shouldn¡¯t do it, it was too risky, too dangerous. All of those thoughts vanished at the memory of Gunther¡¯s broken body and Nero was dashing at the guard like lightning.

    He was faster now, so he¡¯d reached the man just as his head had begun to turn around. He was stronger too so it was barely any effort to slam his face against the wall and pin him there.

    Bently tried to scream but Nero shoved his face harder against the wall to muffle it, twisting the jaw down and compressing his windpipe. The man was panicking and he had the feeble struggles to prove it.

    ¡°Make one more noise and I¡¯ll kill you.¡± Nero said with a voice that wasn¡¯t his. This one was all gravelly and coarse but more than enough to get the message across. The man was quiet as death soon enough.

    ¡°Good.¡± Nero approved.

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t have any crystals.¡± The man began quickly.

    ¡°Good, well neither does Gunther.¡± Nero replied.

    He could practically feel the realisation of why he was there sink into Bently with how slack his body went. ¡°¡±I was just doing my job.¡± He protested.

    ¡°Harm him again and I¡¯ll make sure that¡¯s the last time you ever walk.¡± As far as threats went it was rather gruesome and Nero wasn¡¯t sure whether he was lying or not. Bently clearly believed him and that was what mattered.

    ¡°Alright, alright, just¡­ just let me go.¡± The man begged with a shaky voice.

    Nero slammed his fistagainst the back of the man¡¯s skull and felt his body go limp. He set the unconscious guard down on his back.

    His hands were shaking, he realised, animated with adrenaline. What he¡¯d done was stupid, risky and incredibly impulsive. But he¡¯d gotten away with it.

    He turned to see the pile of rubble behind him shift.

    Nero¡¯s eyes narrowed. Seconds past and then the rubble exploded outwards as a figure emerged from underneath it.

    Dust clouded the air and obscured their features. All Nero could make out was the sight of a person racing towards the end of the alleway.

    A person who¡¯d seen what he¡¯d done to a guard.

    A person who was now mere metres from emerging into the town.

    Nero¡¯s feet were moving before he could think to tell them to. His body was tearing through the air like javelin. He was doing everything to catch the witness before they were in view of the entire town and it still wasn¡¯t enough. They must have been Mighty.

    Despite his months of training, he was just too slow.

    His life flashed before his eyes, images of Mercury and death sunk into his heart.

    He had to do something, and yet the only thing that came to mind was a fool¡¯s hope.

    He might not be able to reach his target, but he could shoot him. The only problem was, Nero still hadn¡¯t learnt how to use ranged Light Breathing.

    Well, there¡¯s never a bad time to train.

    He brought his light to bear around his palm, pointed it forwards and like always, focused his will on projecting it outwards.

    Nero could feel his hold on it slipping, feel the light breaking apart, already in the first stages of explosion. He resisted the urge to close his eyes and brace for impact, he had to see this through, there was no other choice.

    Come on, come on you bastard, listen to me for once!

    The light leapt from his fingers, shot through the space between them and slammed into the stranger¡¯s back. It took them off their feet and into the air and when they met the ground it was with a bounce and a roll.

    Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit.

    He¡¯d done it, he¡¯d fucking done it. Only took him two months but fuck it if it wasn¡¯t worth the time and effort.

    He jogged the rest of the way there and found his heart drop at what he saw when he reached the man.

    He knew who this was. He was one of the first people he¡¯d met in this town, and it was a meeting that he preferred not to think about.

    Tommy let out soft sounds of agony as he laid there, clutching his side painfully while holding a face twisted in anguish. With a gaze up at Nero, that anguish evaporated into horror and realisation. ¡°Please don¡¯t hurt me, I didn¡¯t see anything, I won¡¯t tell anyone what you are.¡±

    And like that Nero was certain the man knew everything he had wished he didn¡¯t. It made his heart burn and his stomach churn. How had he seen him? Tommy must have caught sight of Nero¡¯s magic as he turned to make the corner. ¡°Why were you here?¡± He asked, forcing himself calm, it didn¡¯t make any sense, no one was ever here.

    Tommy looked over to the unconscious guard and hesitated before speaking. ¡°I¡­ I was here for him.¡±

    Nero frowned for a moment before realisation hit him. ¡°Trying to mug him. You figured out this was his route too and it was just my fucking luck that you decided to when I chose to do something incredibly stupid as well.¡±

    He looked down at the man, saw the terror etch itself ever deeper into his face with every passing moment. He knew Nero was a Light Breather and they both knew what would happen to him if this ever got out.

    Tommy¡¯s voice was a low whisper now. ¡°I didn¡¯t see anything, I won¡¯t tell anyone.¡±

    ¡°Yes you will.¡± Nero told him. ¡°You know what I am, you know what I¡¯m worth and you¡¯re an addict who¡¯s going through a case of withdrawal so bad that he¡¯s willing to try and mug a guard to get his fix, an act which would almost surely end quite grizzly for you. I could threaten to chop off your balls and that wouldn¡¯t be enough to keep your mouth shut, sooner rather than later, you¡¯re going to tell someone who¡¯s willing to pay for the secret about the mysterious stranger.¡±

    It was the truth, he didn¡¯t know whether or not Tommy agreed, the man didn¡¯t speak, so petrified that his lips seemed preternaturally sealed. His eyes spoke though, they begged him. ¡®You don¡¯t have to do this,¡¯ they said, but they were wrong, they were so, so wrong.

    He was torn, but he often found himself torn lately, being torn was just a side effect of making decisions. It was the decisions themselves that made a person.

    Nero made his decision.

    He got to his feet and with slow steady steps began walking. He¡¯d have to move quickly, people would be out and about soon, which would make hiding that much harder. Then there¡¯d be the guards, they¡¯d come for him soon, it was simply a matter of time.

    He couldn¡¯t pack anything, couldn¡¯t risk it, all he could do was rely on the skills he gained in the two months he¡¯d lived here.

    ¡°Where are you going?¡± Tommy asked, voice tight.

    It probably wasn¡¯t wise to answer, but Nero did so anyways, to solidify his decision. ¡°I¡¯m leaving Stradale.¡±

 Chapter 19: Hunted.

    Chapter 19: Hunted.

    Three days. Nero had spent three days on the run. They had not been fun days, far from it in fact, he¡¯d spent a great deal of them focused on survival.

    First he had to hunt, then he had to find a reliable source of water and lastly he had to make shelter from the elements of the Dark Forest.

    Almost all his tasks had been made easier by the knowledge and skills he had accrued throughout his stay in Hell. The beasts seemed less ferocious, the weather more forgiving.

    It was still horrible, yes but surviving was the easy part and it was easy because it was familiar.

    The horrible part of his days had been the unfamiliar parts. He was adrift, with nowhere to go and no anchor to hold onto. The only home he had begun to know was now the most dangerous place for him to be.

    And it was all his fault.

    Why did he have to fuck it up, why did he always have to fuck it up?

    The self loathing came in quick bursts, clouding his mind, stretching seconds into hours as he threaded his mind through every action he made that led up to this and finding all the places he went wrong.

    Attacking a guard and using his Light Breathing were perhaps the two major ones that kept coming up in his mind''s eye.

    Ember was in a worse state than him. She didn¡¯t say anything, the poor girl probably didn¡¯t want to plague Nero with more to worry about, but he could practically taste her sorrow.

    She didn¡¯t want to leave Stradale, she¡¯d grown to like the place and its people. He¡¯d ruined that, he¡¯d taken all of that away from her without even giving her a say in the matter.

    Much of his free time was then spent worrying.

    He knew he was being hunted, by his estimate Tommy must have told someone the truth within at least twelve hours of the incident and he very much doubted the chief would just let the Light Breather go.

    So that meant there would be people after him now.

    He estimated that when the time he¡¯d spent being sneaky and covering his tracks was taken into account, he¡¯d journeyed maybe a day¡¯s distance from Stradale.

    In the dead of the night, he had seen them by their fires and after each night those fires grew ever closer to his. The bastards were gaining on him, there was very little he could do but wait, and that was what he was doing now.

    This morning Nero was tucked behind a particularly thick bush, just a few yards from his camp site. He knew they¡¯d come to check it for any sign of him and if they didn¡¯t notice him, that would give him the advantage of surprise to match theirs in numbers.

    For now however, there was only silence and a singular thought that plagued him.

    Did he regret his decision to leave?

    For the first time since getting here and probably for the first time in his life, he¡¯d done something truly selfless. He¡¯d expected, or at least hoped, to feel some satisfaction within, but all he was stuck with was the crushing weight that was the consequences of his own actions.

    The weight was interrupted by the sound of feet crunching against leaves and branches. Six figures emerged from the woods, half guards, half hunters.

    He recognised all as citizens of Stradale.

    ¡°He was here.¡± A hunter said, eyes on the trails of smoke drifting up from where there used to be a fire.

    ¡°How long ago.¡± A guard asked. They all had their backs turned to him now as they inspected his sleeping area.

    ¡°Not long at a-¡±

    The hunter¡¯s reply never came because Nero pounced first. He smacked the man with an elbow, sending him flying into a tree and bouncing off painfully from the impact.

    The others were still turning when his fist met another across the jaw, sending the man crumpling to the ground like folded paper.

    A hunter fired at him, he ducked and the arrow found bark instead of flesh.

    Nero dragged a sword from the downed man¡¯s sheath and used it to block the next arrow that came flying his way. He managed, more from luck than speed.

    The hunters were moving backwards, trying to put distance between him and them, while the guards moved in to take him in melee.

    Four days ago it would have been a flawless tactic, but four days ago Nero had not learned a new Light Breathing technique. His free hand burned with light and he threw it at the closest hunter.

    The ball of light struck, picked him off his feet and cast him into the darkness of the woods.

    The battle seemed to halt in that very moment and the men¡¯s jaws turned slack. ¡°It¡¯s true, he really is him.¡± One guard gasped, sword trembling in his palm.

    Nero met their eyes, he could see the fright within them, these men didn¡¯t want to fight, and they certainly didn¡¯t want to fight him. He reckoned that from their perspective it would be like fighting Jesus.

    He could use that. ¡°Nobody here needs to die today.¡± Nero told them.

    The men¡¯s eyes shifted between one another until finally an answer came. ¡°You¡¯re right.¡± A hunter said. ¡°But if we don¡¯t bring you in, we¡¯re as good as dead.¡±

    Nero winced. ¡°You¡¯re right¡­ but-¡± There was no buts, only the sound of flat of sword steel smacking a guard across the face as he capitalised with a surprise attack.

    Then the fight ensued, and it was a one sided affair.

    From what he¡¯d been able to gather, any Mighty was at the very least as fast, resilient and strong as the most trained humans being back on earth could possibly be, and these were amongst the Mightiest men in all of Stradale.

    Before, Nero would not have been able to fend off men of this calibre, skill and composure while holding back, but a certain old hag had changed that. It wasn¡¯t even due to his increase in Might, but more so the fact that she had taught Nero how to fight and try as they might, his pursuers could not match what he¡¯d become.

    His steel smacked into men, then his fist and then his light. He had received a few nicks, scratches and cuts from poorly dodged attacks but when it was all said and done there were no casualties, only groaning men with bruised bodies.

    He looked at the group as they laid there on the floor, he let himself believe he hadn¡¯t killed them. A lie, in truth all he¡¯d done was procrastinate their deaths from today to tomorrow.

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    He caught a glint of something shooting through the air. Metal and sharp, glinting in the sun¡¯s light. An arrow. An impossibly fast arrow.

    He dragged his body to the side as fast as his legs could take him. The projectile was faster, it bit into his shoulder and sunk into flesh and muscle. Hot pain erupted in his arm and it took everything Nero had not to yank out the arrow responsible.

    Doing such could spell the end of him.

    He caught another glint in his periphery, twisted, and this one met mud instead of skin.

    ¡°It¡¯s coming from that way.¡± Ember said hurriedly.

    Nero followed her pointing finger and found a hooded crouched figure at the end of it. They were atop a hill and far, far enough that they could let out three, maybe two shots before he got to them.

    Less than ideal then, but Nero had very limited options at the moment.

    Nero raced towards them. With dread, he watched the attacker nock their arrow, pull it back and fire sharp death straight at him.

    Nero ducked from this one, too late to avoid the steel but quick enough to get off with a graze to the side of his head. Warm blood trickled down his scalp, the archer freed another arrow from their quiver, and Nero kept on running.

    Nock, pull, release.

    The next shot came like lightning but Nero was fast enough to dodge, the third never came, he¡¯d reached the archer already.

    Nero didn¡¯t think, he only acted, his knee slammed into their face, and sent the attacker rolling down the hill with a grunt.

    They landed on their feet, crouched and with their hood fallen. Nero could see the attacker¡¯s face now, her pale skin, even paler hair and furious indigo eyes.

    A river of blood ran down her broken nose where he¡¯d hit her. He thought that was the source of the pain he saw etched into her face. Her words told him otherwise. ¡°You lied to me.¡± The woman hissed.

    ¡°Selvas, I-¡±

    ¡°I told you you can keep your secrets, as long as it didn¡¯t put the people I cared about in danger.¡± He¡¯d never seen the woman angry before, he¡¯d thought he had, during their jobs, when she scowled at beasts moments away from tearing her throat out, he¡¯d thought that was fury. Today those emotions resembled mild annoyance compared to the dripping malice that she set upon him.

    ¡°Selvas, I¡¯m sorry.¡±

    ¡°Sorry doesn¡¯t cut it Nero.¡± She bit back. ¡°Do you know what¡¯s happening in Stradale? The Chieftain is getting ready to take heads for every day the Light Breather hasn¡¯t been brought to him. Any heads, Nero, people who barely knew you, people who you never even said a word to, fuck, children.¡± She spat.

    The revelation twisted his gut, making him sick to his stomach. It was not in anyway surprising, he knew enough about Stradale¡¯s Chieftain and Demons as a whole to find it completely within character, but to be confronted with the truth as a fact packed a new kind of punch.

    This world was cruel, it was unforgiving, it was everything people back on earth feared their own world becoming. The only difference was this time, he wasn¡¯t part of the problem, it wasn¡¯t his fault that the world was a nightmare and he didn¡¯t contribute to it in any way.

    So if a horned bastard decided to murder children as punishment for not being brought his head, why should that be his cross to bear?

    ¡°What did you expect me to do?!¡± Nero roared , angry suddenly, his hands were shaking, he found a fury within that he didn¡¯t know was there, but it was, and had been for a while. Waiting, growing. ¡°Since I got here I¡¯ve been scared, alone and confused. I¡­ I didn¡¯t know who to trust, I didn¡¯t know what to do, and it seemed like every time I star to understand something, everything gets turned upside down all over again. You.. You don¡¯t know how that feels¡­ It¡¯s¡­ It¡¯s fucking suffocating.¡±

    Selvas¡¯s eyes softened a shade, which stunned Nero because it was perhaps the most sudden change in emotion he had ever witnessed the woman show. ¡°You should have told me.¡±

    ¡°And then what?¡± He scoffed.

    ¡°I would have helped you.¡± She replied.

    ¡°I barely knew you, you couldn¡¯t have expected me to trust you.¡±

    ¡°I did.¡± Selvas said, and he could see the hurt resurface in her eyes again. ¡°I trusted you.¡±

    Nero winced. ¡°Look.. It doesn¡¯t have to be this way, We can get away from Stradale, leave it all behind.¡±

    ¡°You know I can¡¯t do that Nero.¡± Selvas said, eyes flitting to her bow which she¡¯d dropped while rolling. She was an archer, without a bow and in close range of a physically superior opponent. She stood no chance.

    ¡°You don¡¯t want to do this.¡± Nero told her. ¡°We both know how this¡¯ll end.¡±

    ¡°I believe one of us does.¡± Selvas said defiantly. He¡¯d thought it was pure stubbornness, and then his head began to spin and he noticed that his hands just wouldn¡¯t stop shaking. ¡°You¡­ poisoned me?¡±

    Selvas¡¯s reply was a drawn dagger and an arcing swing. Nero scrambled out of the way, only to catch a slash right beneath the ribs. His escape was blocked by a tree which his back slammed into. He groaned as the impact jostled the arrow in his shoulder.

    Selvas was intent on giving him no respite and came dashing at him again. With a roar he slashed widely at her, and that kept the woman at bay and gave Nero a moment to think.

    His movements were sluggish, arms fidgety. And he was facing off against Selvas. Nero had played the scenario out in his head of what would happen if they fought before, and he decided that it depended entirely on whether he could get to her before she stuffed him full of arrows.

    Even then, he¡¯d been weary of her quickness. She was fast enough to match him on his best day, which meant that today, between the poison and the arrow in his arm, she had all the advantage.

    It was on him to figure out a way out of this.

    Selvas moved to grab her bow and Nero gave chase. Fast enough to reach her before she could grab it, too slow to pull back the moment he realised it was bait. The woman stopped suddenly and lashed her blade out at him once again.

    Again the runed weapon caught a fleeing Nero. This time in a slash across the chest. It burned like hot iron and Nero resisted the urge to take a glance at the river of blood running down his shirt.

    Through the pain, he tried to remember his training. Cain would probably be calling him a moron right now, but when wasn¡¯t she. She¡¯d also likely tell him to use his reach and strength to his advantage. Those were two things he still had over Selvas.

    Nero grit his teeth and came at her like a landslide. He swung violently, not being given the luxury of holding back. He was fighting for his life now, they both were.

    He stabbed, swung and slashed like there was no tomorrow, because if he didn¡¯t then there might very well not be one for him.

    Catching Selvas with a blow however was a feat as impossible as catching the wind. For the first time since getting his might, Nero was the slower in a true battle and he could pay dearly for it.

    Selvas dodged the latest swing as easily as she did the first and slipped into his guard like a glove. The woman opened up her attack with her skull slamming into his nose with a painful crunch.

    It was broken, he could feel it in the way his face flared up in agony and tears leaked from his eyes. Nero stumbled back only to be caught by a sweeping leg from Selvas.

    Then he was on the ground, the last place a person should be in a fight.

    ¡°Nero, she¡¯s coming for you!¡± Ember warned.

    He forced his teary eyes open to see the hunter move in to put her knife through his neck.

    Nero willed his good arm to block it and found resistance, she¡¯d pinned it beneath her knee by his elbow.

    Shit!

    Quickly, he raised his injured one instead. He held back his death by her wrist. Selvas looked surprised to have had her hand caught. Clearly she hadn¡¯t expected him to still be this strong with both an arrow and poison inside him.

    The edge of her blade hung mere inches away from his jugular, and with every second that passed, Selvas strained to push it further, face twisted with an animalistic expression.

    Nero¡¯s muscles were burning, his strength failing. He wouldn¡¯t be able to hold her back for long.

    He struggled to lift his good arm up, roared, screamed and groaned but it still wasn¡¯t enough to budge the woman.

    The steel was kissing his skin now, pricking the upper layer of his flesh and drawing a thin stream of blood.

    Can¡¯t die, can¡¯t die. can¡¯t die.

    He reminded himself, remembered his promise.

    Was it a promise? Or was it just an excuse to keep on living?

    The thought clawed into his mind, but now was not the time for Nero to confront it. He set his eyes on Ember. Face twisted in horror, scared, terrified and completely helpless to stop what was about to happen.

    Nero however wasn¡¯t, so he put his mind to work.

    He wrapped his Magic around his good hand and it burned a bright golden light. Bright, but useless. He couldn¡¯t hit her with it from this angle and the arrow in his arm made the focus needed to shoot her virtually impossible to grasp.

    He didn¡¯t need it to enact his plan however, if anything the fact that he couldn¡¯t worked directly with his plan.

    Through gritted teeth and a bleeding neck, Nero drew in all the remaining shreds of his focus into his glowing hand. He grasped onto the light and tried to coalesce it the very same way he did when he shot Tommy.

    He felt his focus slip as the light fought with everything to come apart.

    This time, Nero let it.

    He closed his eyes and not a moment later the light exploded like a supernova, almost blinding him despite his shut eyes.

    Selvas hadn¡¯t had the chance to shut her eyes and had switched her attention towards rubbing them in a daze. He knew just how much it stung and couldn¡¯t help but pity her.

    Silently, without a groan or a grunt, Nero pulled his foot back and slammed it directly into her face. The attack connected hard, and sent the woman shooting back.

    When Nero got to his feet she was on the floor, motionless save from the steady rise and fall of her chest.

    He was alive and tomorrow she¡¯d be dead, tomorrow they¡¯d likely all be dead. And more and more would die for his head.

    He heard a soft sobbing and it took the warm feeling of tears streaming down his cheeks for him to recognise he was the one crying.

    Nero rested his back against a tree and slowly slid into a sitting position.

    There, he let himself cry.

    Only for a moment, however, for he had to decide on what he was going to do next.

 Chapter 20: Death of a Dreamer.

    Chapter 20: Death of a Dreamer.

    Living in the woods was everything Cain had ever wanted in her life. Well, that was a lie. Everything Cain had wanted was to have everyone leave her alone, stop speaking to her and never ever dare to bother her with eye contact.

    Sadly, that wasn¡¯t achievable, so what she had to settle for instead was living in the woods.

    She liked to think herself a self-sufficient individual, she hunted what she ate, lived where she built and shat where she dug. All in all it was good living.

    There was one thing, however, that she couldn¡¯t get for herself and that was the experience of watching a good brawl. Stradale had them once a week and it had been a while since she¡¯d lost some good money on bets, so she¡¯d made her way to her favourite town.

    Cain knew something was different from the moment she stepped in, maybe it was the air or mood but the energy of the town was wrong somehow. It made her instinctively wrap her fingers around the handle of her blade.

    Market stalls were deserted, upturned and destroyed. It was like a particularly large Face Eater had run through the streets wreaking as much havoc as was possible. Knowing the proximity of the Dark Forest behind them, it was not entirely out of the question.

    A woman hunched over her ruined stall. Cain recognised her, Mariam, she sold fish and haggled quite doggedly while doing so.

    ¡°Mariam.¡± Cain called out.

    The woman flinched like she¡¯d just been flogged, whipped her head around and relaxed at the sight of Cain. Tears streamed down her tired eyes and she desperately tried to wipe them off as they relentlessly fell. ¡°Granny.¡± She greeted.

    ¡°What the fuck happened here?¡± Cain asked, finding this a more unacceptable time than most for pleasantries.

    The woman¡¯s lips trembled and Cain could tell she was still coming to grips with it all. ¡°I¡­ The Light Breather, he¡¯s punishing us because of the Light Breather¡­¡±

    Cain was patient as she listened to Mariam speak, the woman needed several pauses to calm herself and a few more to sob. When she¡¯d finished what Cain had grasped shocked her, which was quite notable as not very much shocked old granny Cain.

    One hundred years in Hell would do that to you.

    It seemed that Nero boy had been the Light Breather. She¡¯d known there was something off about him, not many people started off that powerful while seemingly knowing nothing about Might, he¡¯d tried to hide it and she had let him think he¡¯d done so successfully, even going over the fundamentals of how his abilities worked, just to prevent him from being forced to ask.

    Yes, there was something off about him, but there was something off about everyone so who could blame her for not investigating him further? People just kind of sucked.

    The Chieftain obviously wasn¡¯t happy about the whole ordeal and it seemed he was planning an execution tonight. Selvas, the cold-eyed hunter girl had begged him to hold off on executions, she¡¯d promised to bring back the Light Breather¡¯s head in five days¡­ Well they were on the fifth day now.

    Cain wondered how Selvas had even managed to keep her own head. The Chieftain was not a particularly kind Demon, and if this was how he treated people who so much as shared the same town with Nero, then she expected something grizzly for the woman who was practically his best friend.

    No, Selvas is a smart girl.

    She¡¯d have probably leveraged the fact that she was the only person who could bring him in, of the fifty Mighty in Stradale, she was the most powerful.

    Save from her father, that was.

    Footsteps drew Cain¡¯s attention behind her

    A half dozen men stood side to side, a mixture of guards and hunters. Each had their weapons out and eyes hard. Surely they were the ones responsible for doing the Chief¡¯s dirty workly, likely the hunters had recently been hired by the Chieftain to ¡®maintain order.¡¯

    ¡°Miss Cain-¡± the closest guard began. His name was Arnold if she was remembering correctly. ¡°You are under arrest for colluding with the Light Breather, by order of the Chief.¡±

    With bladed weapons, thick wool and gruff voices, Cain was sure they must have cut quite an intimidating sight to the citizens of Stradale. But Cain was not a citizen, and she was quite hard to intimidate. She was a Cain, and by the trembling of their hands she knew they understood at least in some part the weight of that name.

    They were Might infused, all guards and hunters were, one didn¡¯t need Might to terrorize civilians, but it helped. And it didn¡¯t matter, they¡¯d die all the same.

    ¡°A sword through the testicles.¡± Cain hummed and elaborated only when she saw the confusion of the men¡¯s faces. ¡°That¡¯s how I¡¯ll kill each and every one of you, not because I have to, in fact it would be quite tedious and somewhat dangerous to deliberately avoid attacking armed men in any place but their balls, but that¡¯s what I¡¯ll do if you take one more step towards me.¡±

    They shuffled gazes between one another, each urging the other to be the first one to charge forwards. None took the bait, and soon the guards were jogging away nervously.

    Huh. It seemed men did really like their balls, funny that, she didn¡¯t have any and she reckoned she got on just fine without them.

    Afternoon had come, and the bliss was gone. Four days, the Chief¡¯s reward had lasted Tommy four whole days. It was far less than he¡¯d hoped for but far more than he¡¯d had in his entire life.

    Trikitax they called it, because it was extracted from the blood of a Trikite. Tommy didn¡¯t understand how exactly that was done, but he figured it didn¡¯t much matter now.

    It was all gone and Tommy was left with a wicked headache in its wake. His stomach turned wrongly and suddenly he found himself emptying the contents of it onto the ground.

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    He was in a ditch somewhere in Stradale. Tommy couldn¡¯t remember how he got there. That was no surprise, he couldn¡¯t remember much of the last few days really.

    The little he did however made him wish he hadn¡¯t.

    Tommy pulled himself up from the gutter and stumbled onto groggy feet. Above everything else, he was hungry.

    He looked around to find his town upturned, the once-cramped streets were almost empty as not a single person wanted to be caught in the fury of the guards.

    Most of who remained were those with nowhere else to go, or people who had no choice but to be working outside today.

    Eyes fell on Tommy from open windows; angry, hateful and venomous eyes. Word had spread about what had happened, each and every one of them knew it was his fault that Stradale had become a prison.

    Tommy couldn¡¯t help but remember what Nero said, that he was going to tell his secret no matter what. He hadn¡¯t believed him when he¡¯d said it, but then time passed and his craving grew worse, gnawing at him like a rat desperately trying to escape his skin.

    He took another look at the scornful eyes, and through the shame, guilt and regret that plagued him, Tommy realised one terrifyingly striking thing. He hated them. Tommy hated them all. He knew he had no right to, he had wronged each one of the people in this town all for the purpose of quelling the beast.

    Yet there had also been times before that, times when he asked for help, begged for it in fact and he was cursed at, spat on and kicked at.

    Perhaps he had deserved it, the two people who had helped him, he¡¯d wronged, Gunther when he destroyed his lab and Selvas when he stole from her.

    Neither had sought out revenge, and that was perhaps what stung the most. The feeling that they had simply come to believe he couldn¡¯t help himself but be cruel, so why get angry? One does not hold malice for a rock when you stub your toe on it.

    ¡°They¡¯re going to kill the Potion Master.¡± Someone called out from behind.

    Tommy turned and saw the source to be a man, a labourer if he was correct. Old man Albert. He had arms like tree trunks and a frame like a boulder. The man stormed towards Tommy, each step more furious than the last. ¡°They¡¯re going to kill our healer, who¡¯s going to take care of my girls, who¡¯s going to take care of all of us, you didn¡¯t think about any of that did you?!¡±

    ¡°I-¡± Tommy didn¡¯t know what he was about to say, and he wouldn¡¯t ever know as Albert¡¯s Mighty fist knocked the thoughts out of his head.

    Tommy was on the floor, unable to tell the difference between up and down. The world was spinning and his head pounded like galloping hooves.

    Through drifting eyes, Tommy saw Albert move on him again. He raised his arms to block, but the farmer was far quicker. His fist connected with his temple and Tommy¡¯s world went dark.

    Gunther woke up in a cold damp cell. Three days and he still hadn¡¯t accepted that this wasn¡¯t some sort of dream, at most a sick joke.

    He¡¯d wanted to die hunched over a parchment weakly scribbling down ingredients to soothe a cough. Not in some gory display put on by a mad tyrant.

    It was still all so much to accept.

    Nero, the young lad, had been the Light Breather. From the stories he¡¯d heard as a child, he¡¯d expected the God of Hell to be rippling with muscles, have long flowing hair and boast a jawline that could cut diamond clean.

    He just looked like a kid.

    Brown hair, brown eyes, tan skin.

    A good kid, naive, hard headed, shady and too smart for his own good, but a good kid nonetheless.

    Well, good if one ignored that he was the reason Gunther was in debt and about to be executed.

    He still didn¡¯t know what to think about it all.

    No, that was a lie, he was furious at the bastard for antagonising Tommy and even more fucking furious at the moron for beating up a guard.

    But he felt guilt too.

    Perhaps he wouldn¡¯t have done what he did if Gunther didn¡¯t yell at him.

    He couldn¡¯t help himself, he was just, so, so tired.

    Well, he¡¯d be getting his rest soon, that much was certain.

    He was making mental bets on which way he¡¯d be executed. Beheading was number one, the Chief liked to make a demonstration, and severing a person¡¯s head from their neck in front of a crowd was a classic that very few tyrants could resist.

    Second was hanging. That one was less visceral than the spray of blood that the former would include, but there was just something about the sight of a man¡¯s leg kicking out desperately while he turned blue in the face that made people think twice before betraying the law responsible.

    Coming in last would be something creative and horrifying. Perhaps he would tie his legs and hands to fresteeds then have them dash in different directions.

    That one, Gunther reckoned, would be the best.

    But he doubted the Chief had the brains to come up with something as complex as that. In fact he might even find his end at the tip of a cudgel, so stupid was the Demon.

    He heard the door to the cellar open and a deep fright crept into his soul, banishing all distraction and leaving him with the overwhelming awareness of his own mortality.

    Heavy footsteps made their way down the stairs until he could see the figure who¡¯d come to deliver him his death. He had skin the colour of paper.

    ¡°Hello Executioner.¡± Gunther greeted.

    ¡°Healer.¡± The man nodded back. He unhooked the keyholder across his belt and began searching for the one to his cell.

    ¡°You¡¯re from the other world, yes, the physical realm?¡± Gunther asked.

    ¡°I am.¡± He said.

    ¡°Tell me.¡± Gunther began. ¡°Is it all they say it is, are skies blue? Do we humans rule?¡±

    The executioner slid the key into the hole and pulled it open. He set his eyes upon Gunther. ¡°It wasn¡¯t perfect, in fact it was far from perfect. But it was leagues better than this shithole.¡±

    Gunther drew in a breath and nodded. ¡°I would have liked it there, I think.¡±

    The bigger man said nothing, instead he turned and gestured for Gunther to follow him. Gunther hesitated, then did so.

    Together, the pair made their way up the stairs in a deafening silence.

    Gunther squinted as they emerged onto the surface. It was night, but when contrasted against the darkness he had been cast into, the lights of Stradale were still bright enough to assail his senses.

    Gunther felt something grasp him, the Executioner by the strength of his pull. He stumbled, nearly fell but managed to keep upright enough to follow.

    When the pain in his eyes had subsided enough, Gunther opened them to find himself up against a platform. The execution platform. He¡¯d witnessed one being carried out here as a kid, a beheading. Funny to think that that was the reason he had become a surgeon.

    And now it¡¯ll be how I die.

    He looked behind him to find the Chieftain sitting comfortably on a chair. He met Gunther¡¯s eyes and scowled as if he had personally wronged him somehow.

    Gunther didn¡¯t even have the energy to reply with an expression of his own.

    ¡°Climb up there.¡± The executioner¡¯s gruff voice came.

    Gunther followed his gaze to find a stool propped right beneath a noose.

    His method of execution would be by hanging.

    Ah, so option two then.

    Slowly, yet far more quickly than he¡¯d have wished, Gunther made his way up the stool. The executioner fastened the noose around his neck

    Below him was a crowd, citizens of Stradale, some faces he¡¯d healed, all faces he recognised. Their eyes were sorrowful, sobbing, already in the first stage of mourning.

    His people. What would happen to them when he was gone? Nothing great. Shame, he¡¯d fooled himself into believing he could somehow protect them.

    He couldn¡¯t do that while he was alive, and he certainly wouldn¡¯t be doing it in death.

    Gunther closed his eyes and waited for the stool to be kicked out from underneath him. People often did shit themselves during hangings, Gunther hoped that wouldn¡¯t happen to him, it would be quite embarrassing.

    What a thought to go through a dying man¡¯s mind.

    And no one will ever get to hear it.

    Gunther heard himself sniffling, then sobbing. He didn¡¯t want to die, he was scared, terrified, helpless, so, so utterly helpless.

    ¡°Just fucking do it already!¡± He screamed, wanting to get the torture over with already.

    But it didn¡¯t end.

    He opened his eyes and found out the reason why.

    The crowd which once had eyes set upon him had their backs turned now. There was murmuring, whispers and then the mass of people began to part.

    Nero, the Light Breather, emerged into it. In his arms was an unconscious Selvas. He looked haggard, like he¡¯d been through the nine circles of Hell and back. ¡°I¡¯m here!¡± He roared. ¡°No one else needs to die.¡±

    ¡°Guards, seize him!¡± The Chief roared.

    Oh, Nero, you stupid, stupid boy¡­

 Chapter 21: Dying Lights.

    Chapter 21: Dying Lights.

    Nero¡¯s new home was a cell, dark, damp, wet, crusty and humid. His arrest was a swift one, apparently the Chief was not in a particularly forgiving mood when he had arrived.

    ¡®You did the right thing, you did the right thing, you did the right thing.¡¯ He repeated in his mind. It was the only way he could bear the horror that awaited him.

    Most of his thoughts, however, weren¡¯t on himself, no, that was reserved for someone else. ¡°Are you going to die, Nero?¡± Ember asked, voice like shattered glass.

    She was a soft golden light in the ocean of darkness.

    ¡°Don¡¯t worry, you¡¯ll be fine.¡± Nero told her, wearing a smile that he knew didn¡¯t quite sit right in his face. ¡°After the fight with Selvas, I realised something, since the old Light Breather is dead and you¡¯re still around that should at least mean that my death won¡¯t cause yours.¡±

    It relied on a few assumptions and it wasn¡¯t necessarily something Nero would have wanted to test if he had many other options but it at least brought him some peace knowing that Ember would likely be fine without him.

    He expected to see some form of relief in the imp¡¯s eyes. Only fury exploded in its place. ¡°I¡¯m not worried about myself, you idiot.¡± She snapped. A surprising reaction to get from her. ¡°I don¡¯t want to see you die!¡±

    ¡°What a coincidence, because I don¡¯t want to see me die either.¡±

    ¡°Now¡¯s not the time for jokes!¡±

    ¡°I mean, I don¡¯t really think I¡¯m going to be capable of telling jokes by the end of today, so-¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m serious!¡± She cut in.

    Nero¡¯s eyes fell. ¡°I know you are¡­ I just¡­ It feels easier to talk about things this way.¡±

    ¡°Not for me.¡± Ember said. Thin orange streams of fire ran down her cheeks. She was sobbing, he realised, and Nero felt sick to have been the cause. ¡°I¡­ don¡¯t want you to die, I want you to understand how much I don¡¯t want you to die, and I want you to come up with a stupid risky and horrible plan about how you¡¯re not going to die, that I¡¯m going to disagree with and call you reckless, foolish and a big stupid head for even considering it, but somehow still work, at which point I take all the credit for it.¡±

    Nero wasn¡¯t surprised to find himself wearing a smile at that. What surprised him was how this one wasn¡¯t fake. It didn¡¯t last long however. ¡°I¡¯m sorry Ember.. I just, I can¡¯t¡­ I think this is it.¡± The end of the road.

    Her face fell and her light died ever so slightly. The poor girl looked on the verge of being snuffed out.

    ¡°The Light consults with his Guardian.¡± Nero jumped at the voice, rough, gruff, like the sound of men marching against gravel.

    The door to the dungeon opened, causing a stream of eye-piercing light to spill in. Nero winced and when he opened his eyes the Chieftain was standing in front of him, separated only by the bars between them.

    He looked at Nero like a cat might a five legged mouse. An idle curiosity, but one that was in no way a threat. ¡°So, you¡¯re real.¡± He said.

    Ember zipped in front of Nero, placing herself in between him and the Demon. He could see her trembling, she was scared, perhaps even half as scared as he was, but she was there.

    Nero couldn¡¯t help but admire that.

    His priorities were on the Demon. He set his eyes on him in what he hoped was an intimidating glare. It probably wasn¡¯t, he was behind bars, bruised, tired and nursing an arrow wound to the shoulder.

    The Chief sniffed. ¡°I should send word of your arrival to the Circle, the higher ups would want me to keep you alive. They¡¯d have questions for you, they might even send down a Warden to conduct the interrogation.¡±

    Just at the thought of Mercury arriving, Nero almost emptied what little he had in his stomach onto the ground. Memories of death and anguish swam around in his mind like serrated edges along an open wound.

    ¡°Ah, you¡¯ve met one then.¡± The Demon remarked.

    ¡®Calm down, Nero, this is a good thing.¡¯ That meant he wouldn''t be dying today then. He likely wouldn¡¯tbe dying until however long it might take for Mercury to show up.

    That gave him time to scheme, time to find a way out of this hole he¡¯d dug himself into. Nero fanned the embers of hope that grew in him.

    That didn¡¯t stop what the Chieftain said next from killing them at their infancy. ¡°I won¡¯t be doing that.¡± The Chieftain added, chin up, proud, defiant. ¡°After I have done the work of capturing this cycle''s Light Breather, I will not have them give the credit of his execution to some Warden.¡±

    Nero¡¯s heart dropped at his words. The cell suddenly seemed smaller and the room darker.

    ¡°Your head will roll by morning light.¡± He told him.

    Nero tried to think of something witty to say, but before his cogs could even begin moving, the Chief already had his back turned to him. When they finally did, nothing came.

    The bastard had crushed Nero and he doubted he even knew that he¡¯d done it. He¡¯d made him remember what it felt like to look forward to tomorrow.

    The Chief made his way up the stairs and slammed the door shut, locking Nero once again in the colourless void that would be home until he died.

    Nero didn¡¯t know how long he spent wallowing in the darkness. First there was self pity, then anger, then sadness, then more self pity, and right now he had graduated from feeling just one emotion to some heightened symphony of anguish he hadn¡¯t even known was possible.

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    That all changed at a sound.

    ¡°Boo.¡±

    Nero jumped, saw Selvas in front of him and found that his tongue had turned to lead.

    She lit a lamp next to her to properly illuminate the room. Now he could see the proud grin she was wearing for scaring a soon-to-be-dead man.

    ¡°Selvas.¡± Nero greeted, laughing despite it all.

    ¡°Light Breather.¡± She replied.

    ¡°D-don¡¯t call me that, that¡¯s not my name.¡± Nero shook his head.

    Selvas shrugged. ¡°Fine then.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡± He sighed.

    ¡°You came back.¡± Selvas noted. Her eyes were still once again, as cold as they ever had been but Nero couldn¡¯t help but feel a hint of warmth radiating them.

    ¡°Yes, I¡¯m as surprised as you are honestly.¡± He huffed. ¡°All in all, not the warm welcome I was expecting.¡±

    ¡°You¡¯ve gotten yourself killed.¡±

    ¡°Why gee golly Selvas, I hadn¡¯t noticed.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    It was Nero¡¯s turn to be short on words. He looked away.

    Selvas, perhaps for the first time, was the one to break the silence. ¡°I hear you have a Guardian Imp.¡±

    ¡°You mean Ember?¡± The Chief had also called her that.

    ¡°Ah, so that¡¯s her name.¡± Selvas hummed. The woman¡¯s eyes seemed wider, filled with awe and wonder where he¡¯d come to expect grim acceptance. ¡°She¡¯s been with you this whole time?¡±

    ¡°Tell her, she¡¯s pretty!¡± Ember chirped.

    ¡°Yes, you have no idea how hard it was not to seem like a crazy person while talking to someone no one else can see.¡±

    ¡°Tell her she¡¯s pretyyyy!¡± Ember nagged.

    Nero rolled his eyes.

    ¡°What did she say?¡± Selvas asked immediately.

    ¡°She said I should tell you that she thinks you¡¯re very pretty.¡± Nero smiled.

    Selvas grinned. ¡°That¡¯s nice of her.¡± The flame flickered gently across her face, peeking through her hair with a soft ambient glow. Sat there, eyes flitting around his cell to see if she might catch a glimpse of Ember, she looked ever so captivating, almost a privilege. Something to be seen only once and remembered forever..

    An elusive snow leopard in the heights of the himalayas.

    ¡°That makes two of us, you know.¡± He added.

    Selvas raised an eyebrow. ¡°Flirting before your execution?¡±

    ¡°Oh come on.¡± He chuckled. ¡°We would have made a good couple.¡±

    ¡°Last time we met, you hit me.¡± She noted.

    ¡°Oh come on, I think my recent actions have more than made up for that.¡±

    Selvas looked at him as if he¡¯d just farted.

    Ember sighed, shaking her head as if she¡¯d just witnessed a horrific car crash. ¡°I can¡¯t watch this.¡± She said and zipped out through the window.

    ¡°Okay, that came out wrong.¡± He admitted, throwing his hands up in defeat. ¡°What I meant was, it¡¯s not fair to-¡±

    Selvas reached a pale hand up and pressed her palm softly against the side of his face. She drew Nero in with but a touch and leaned closer herself.

    Her eyes were narrower now, the way they always were when she was aiming at something. When she coveted, Nero liked how it felt to be coveted by her.

    She pressed her lips against his cheek and a wave of warmth flowed through Nero. For a moment, just a moment, but a moment nonetheless, all his problems were washed away.

    Selvas leaned back, a small smile on her beautiful lips. ¡°I guess we would have made a good couple.¡±

    Nero let out a soft groan.

    Selvas¡¯ features wrinkled in concern. ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±

    ¡°Nothing.¡± He said quickly, shaking his head.

    ¡°Speak.¡±

    ¡°Fine, fine.¡±He shrugged. ¡°It¡¯s just¡­ I mean¡­ a kiss on the cheek, that¡¯s it?.¡±

    Selvas blinked.

    ¡°You do know I¡¯m going to be dying tomorrow, yes?¡± He threw his hands up inoffensively. ¡°I¡¯m just saying, feels a bit underwhelming is all.¡±

    Selvas¡¯ lips were suddenly stiff. ¡°Did you think I was going to blow you?¡±

    ¡°No!¡± Nero objected, strongly. Even waving a disapproving finger and all. ¡°But¡­ I would not have strongly protested if you had perhaps seen it fit under your best judgement.¡±

    Selvas let out a non-committal hum.

    Then silence followed, and the two just stared at each other.

    ¡°I¡¯m not going to blow you Nero.¡±

    ¡°Well, maybe you should have told me that before I turned myself in.¡± He huffed.

    Selvas laughed.

    It was a sweet laugh, and Nero wanted to listen to it forever. But soon enough it came to a stop, and she looked at him with sad eyes.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He told her.

    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± She refuted.

    ¡°It¡¯s not.¡± He agreed. ¡°But this is just how it is.¡±

    Selvas nodded, turned off her lamp and slid back into the dark.

    The moment she was out of sight Nero wanted to scream, he wanted to beg her to save him. To tell her he¡¯d made a mistake, to lie, deceive, cheat and do everything he possibly could to get out of here, no matter the cost to anyone but himself.

    Instead he just pressed his back against the wall and slid down it with a weak sigh.

    Morning came far too quickly and Nero hated that he hadn¡¯t cherished every single second he had before it.

    The door swung open and the Executioner, Selvas¡¯ father, followed the light that spilled in.

    He had cold eyes, ones that didn¡¯t invite conversation. That was good, as Nero didn¡¯t particularly find himself in the mood for any as of the moment. He opened his cell, turned, and without another word, Nero followed.

    Perhaps he should have said something, but Nero was almost certain that anything he did saywould be meaningless.

    They were both men with their fates tied by Demons. He was the lucky one in that he got to escape. The executioner suffered the task of leading others to an exit he could not pass.

    They emerged out into Stradale and Nero saw the crowd looking at him. It seemed the entire town was out here. He didn¡¯t look at their faces, he couldn¡¯t stand the sight of what he might see.

    He only wished he could close his ears and deliver himself from the crushing sound of Ember crying.

    Perhaps it wouldn¡¯t have ended like this if he was stronger, smarter, faster, less Nero. But it did and there was nothing he could do about it.

    He met the eyes of the Chief. The width of his grin made his head seem too small for his mouth. He looked like the lion on the verge of a feast. And Nero was the prey.

    ¡°Up the stool.¡± The executioner grunted.

    Nero set his eyes on the noose above and nodded. The rope had runes etched into it. He assumed that would be because gravity alone couldn¡¯t be enough to kill a good number of people in this world.

    If it were any other day he might have let himself wonder how exactly the runes made up for that fact.

    Today the crushing despair was far too much for his mind to explore.

    He got up the stool, put his neck through the noose and shut his eyes. He didn¡¯t want the last thing he saw to be the mortified faces of a people as they watched their prophesied saviour kick out helplessly and die.

    It would be terrible he knew, but he doubted the death itself could be anywhere close to the dread he felt at the wait. Nero stood there, knowing that every second could be his last, that every moment brought him closer to the one where the executioner would kick the stool out from underneath him.

    He felt the executioner fasten the nose around his neck.

    God, he could still fight, try to run, get away, he could-

    Nero was falling, his heart lurched.

    The rope caught him by the neck. It tightened, hard, like a serpent squeezing all the life out of him. It hurt to breathe, then he could¡¯t.

    Desperately clawed at the rope, but it wouldn¡¯t give, only tightening. He coughed, wheezed. A pressure in his head grew and grew until it felt like his skull was about to come apart.

    God, he didn¡¯t want to die, he didn¡¯t want this, he never wanted any of this.

    He was scared. So, so scared.

    There was screaming, crying, laughter. To think this symphony of expression would be the last thing he heard.

    Nero¡¯s mind was drifting now, his clawing had weakened and weakened until it had stopped all together.

    He didn¡¯t accept it, no, far from it, but there was no denying it. Nero was dying.

    Something snapped and Nero was falling.

    He met something hard, opened his eyes to find himself coughing and wheezing on the floor. Above him was a cut rope.

    In front of him was the crowd, behind it was Selvas, purple eyes narrow, crossbow in hand.

    ¡°Look out!¡± She screamed, just in time to let Nero see her father¡¯s axe whistling for his neck.

 Chapter 22: To Take a Life is to Abandon a Piece of Yours.

    Chapter 22: To Take a Life is to Abandon a Piece of Yours.

    The executioner¡¯s axe caught Nero by the cheek as he twisted out of the way. It was a cut, but not a deep one, certainly nothing close to what he would have got were he even a half moment slower.

    The crowd was screaming, guards and hunters were moving and the Chief was barking out orders. There was so much going on all at once, but Nero wouldn¡¯t be given the luxury of taking it all in.

    The executioner was coming at him again, and he was barely up on his feet.

    His cruel axe came down in an arc and Nero leapt back to avoid having his entrails spilled out. Everything hurt, most of all his shoulder where he¡¯d been shot, it had not been a good few days for Nero and today would certainly not have been his first pick for one to fight for his life during.

    He looked up, expecting to see some conflict or desperation within the thrall¡¯s face. There was none, only a cold, calm and resolute understanding of what had to be done.

    Silently, Nero thanked him for it. It made accepting the fact that he might have to kill this man far easier to swallow. It occurred to him that might be why he wore the expression in the first place, but he batted the distraction away from his mind and moved his body instead.

    Empathy was a luxury he could not afford without paying the heavy tax of his life.

    Nero came at him with a fury, hands alight, legs like lightning. His first dodge told him he was faster than his opponent, then the pain that radiated through his arm when he blocked an elbow from the executioner told him this was not an enemy to be taken lightly.

    The axe came again, this time with an upward swing, Nero stepped out of its way, batted the arm aside, stepped into his opponent¡¯s space and slammed his burning fist into the man¡¯s face.

    It was textbook, everything that Cain had taught him and it landed exactly as she¡¯d instructed. The woman would have been proud, if she felt anything other than bitterness and malice.

    And yet it felt like slamming his face into a brick wall. The man was tough, tougher than anyone Nero had met but a nose was still an incredibly fragile organ.

    Nero felt something crunch and then his opponent was reeling. He grabbed his wrist, twisted it and forced the axe out of his grip.

    The man was still stumbling when Nero brought another glowing fist down at his face. It was Nero¡¯s turn to miss however.

    The executioner recovered quickly, shoved Nero¡¯s arm aside and met his belly with a fist right below the ribs. He hadn¡¯t been expecting that, clearly the man was used to getting hit hard in the heat of battle.

    Nero on the other hand had been lucky enough not to have had much experience facing fighters that were physically on par with him. He almost puked.

    The executioner moved to capitalise, but Nero was already on the offensive. From the way the man¡¯s eyes widened when Nero¡¯s fist met his jaw, it was clear he wasn¡¯t expecting such a fast recovery from him.

    Unlike the executioner, Nero¡¯s cohesion was due to him simply due to having more toughness than the man did power rather than any skill in taking punches. It was an advantage, regardless of how Nero got it.

    A hunter stepped in between the pair and stabbed his blade at Nero¡¯s face. Slow, incredibly slow.

    The man earned a foot to his face for his troubles, but that didn¡¯t stop his faster colleague from coming up behind Nero with a lance.

    ¡°Behind you.¡± Ember warned.

    He caught it by the shaft before it could stick him and broke it with a chop from his axe. The man turned to flee and Nero let him, not seeing much use chasing down an unarmed enemy.

    ¡°The executioner!¡± The Imp screamed and Nero turned to face him as quickly as he could, but he was too late.

    The man¡¯s forehead came down on Nero¡¯s injured shoulder like a hammer. The pain was like acid, corroding his senses with agony.

    The executioner tore the axe from weak fingers and raised it to bring its blade down on Nero¡¯s head.

    Nero could only raise a feeble arm to stop it, an arm that if he was successful, he would certainly lose in the process.

    His killer stopped mid wing and angled his blade to the side. Nero knew why a moment later when an arrow pinged off of it and lodged itself deep into a wall.

    Selvas stood below the pair. A new arrow knocked in her bow. Her cold eyes flicked between Nero and the executioner- her father. He could only think of what might be running through the woman¡¯s mind.

    For the first time, he saw the executioner hesitate, then the shackle around his hand glowed a furious orange. He caught the scent of burning flesh, there was a hiss and he could see trickles of smoke bleeding off of the man¡¯s skin.

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    He let out a cry of raw agony as his massive frame trembled. The man fell to his knees panting. He looked down at his daughter with resolute eyes. ¡°Do what you have to do.¡± He whispered.

    Selvas nodded. ¡°You too.¡± But she didn¡¯t fire her arrow, not until he came running straight at her. He deflected that one too and swung his blade at her like a farmer scything weeds.

    Selvas barely dodged and began moving to put some proper distance between her and the man.

    Nero wondered what type of pain could make a man do that to his daughter. Then he stopped wondering and moved to save Selvas.

    He had barely taken two steps before Ember¡¯s warning came. He turned to find something big, red and ugly charging straight at him. ¡°I¡¯ll kill you myself!¡± The chieftain roared.

    In that moment, Nero was suddenly overcome with a hatred he didn¡¯t know he had ever had the capacity to hold within him. This man, this creature, was the cause of all this. He was the reason Nero had to hide like a rat, the reason he woke up in the middle of the night, drenched in sweat and struggling to breathe.

    Terrified, always terrified that someone will get him for the simple crime of existing

    ¡°I¡¯m going to fucking kill you.¡± The words were calm, far too softly spoken for Nero to believe that he was the one who had spoken them, but he knew every part of it to be true in his heart of hearts.

    The lights in his hands, which had died when the executioner had hit him, were suddenly glowing once again.

    He met his enemy¡¯s charge with one of his own. The two moved on the offensive, each raised a fist to meet the other, but his enemy¡¯s reach was greater and Nero knew he would be marked with the first blow of their fight.

    He¡¯d just not known how devastating the hit would be.

    The demon caught him in his ribs with enough force to drive the air out of his lungs and lift him off the ground. The world was a stream of disconnected shapes and colours, all marked by the sound of the wind rushing past his ears.

    He clipped a building, tore a chunk of it off with his momentum and came to a skidding stop on the ground.

    There was a frantic wheezing in the air, the sound of his breathing he soon realised. Everything hurt, yet the pain in his side made it feel like nothing hurt in comparison.

    ¡°Nero! Nero! Are you okay?¡± Ember panicked.

    He tried desperately to think of a quip to reassure her he was completely fine. Only agony flooded his mind. With every ounce of focus he had left, Nero crawled onto his knees, pressed his palm against his side and mewled in pain at the misery that followed.

    Crouched, he looked up to see the Demon coming again. The Chieftain was fast, but not nearly as fast as Mercury, even in his injured state Nero reckoned he might still edge it out in speed against the monster.

    Can I still do that with my rib like this?

    Strength though, that was another factor. Nero had never been hit that hard in his life, He¡¯d felt his teeth rattle, bones quake. He doubted he could survive another direct blow like that.

    It was a miracle he survived this one, even.

    But his enemy was still coming, and Nero was running out of time.

    <hr>

    Selvas let loose another arrow, this one aimed for the target¡¯s jugular, just like she¡¯d practised, just like her father had taught her when he was a little kid.

    Her father, the executioner, her target, swiped the arrow out of the air with a yet another well timed slash of his axe.

    He was big yet agile, injured yet unimpeded. She found herself blaming Nero for that last part, the bastard could have at least done some real damage to him before their fight was done.

    He¡¯d done some to her in their fight, and she could still feel the pain even now.

    The target closed the distance between them, swung its blade at her face and Selvas ducked, dropped her bow and drew out her dagger. She slashed at his ribs but caught cloth instead of flesh as he twisted out of the way before she had even begun to make her motions.

    He had taught her everything she knew, she realised. It only made sense that her attacks would be less effective against him. Still, she¡¯d be lying to claim a lack of surprise at just how big the disadvantage was.

    He raised a foot faster than she expected and Selvas earned a knee to the side for her sluggishness. She hunched over reflexively and a fist caught her jaw for that.

    Getting hit by the executioner was like getting hit by a hammer, for a moment everything went white- Selvas could only assume that was the colour of agony.

    A quick roll let her dodge his ferocious axe, but not without getting a cut across her shoulder. She scrambled back, not panickedly, Selvas rarely panicked, did she even know what that even felt like? But she was still hasty, too hasty.

    The same way she was hasty when she closed the distance between her and her father to make sure the shot hit its mark. She should have shot him dead when he was on his knees in agony. She wasn¡¯t thinking clearly, she¡¯d not been thinking clearly throughout this entire fight.

    It made sense. She cared for Nero and her father even more so, and now she was forced to fight the latter to protect the former.

    She¡¯d gotten so used to fighting with a clear head that she was failing to recognise her emotions clouding her judgement when it was.

    She couldn¡¯t afford to do that anymore.

    Selvas looked at the man before her, large, muscular and dangerous. Her father. She didn¡¯t want to kill him, but she was going to have to.

    This time she closed the distance, so swiftly that he seemed to only register it when her foot had cracked him across the jaw.

    He was Toughest man she¡¯d ever met, and that was including Nero, but she reckoned getting a foot whipped across the face would still hurt.

    And it did, did well enough to send him a step backwards.

    Selvas came again, knife out. She swung for his neck, saw him bat her hand out of the way and recognised the relief for what it was.

    She forced herself to focus on the frustration instead as her second attack came. This one was a downwards arc, certain to hit, but she stopped midway to dodge his incoming axe swing.

    That left him open for a stab and Selvas took the chance, she put her full weight behind her attack and plunged its edge forwards, towards his heart.

    Her father twisted out of the way of death and won himself a stab to the arm instead. His thick bundle of muscles resisted, but Selvas forced the expertly runed dagger down all the way into its hilt.

    For her efforts she was rewarded with a fierce backhand that sent her stumbling, and an arm around her throat before she could gather her wits.

    When her vision returned, she was pinned up against a wall, her father¡¯s fingers wrapped like a vice around her throat and her head and a cold look of resolution in his eyes.

    She raised a foot and with all the strength she could muster, kicked the bastard in the chest, but he reacted less than she would expect of a boulder.

    Selvas raised her foot again and struck the man once more.

    Kick, kick, kick.

    Nothing.

    Her head was pounding, her vision was going dark at the sides.

    ¡®Huh, been a while since I¡¯ve felt that.¡¯ Selvas thought distantly.

    She was scared, scared that her life was going to end.

 Chapter 23: Perhaps Death Is the Reward For A Life Badly Lived.

    Chapter 23: Perhaps Death Is the Reward For A Life Badly Lived.

    It was all turning to shit, and that was a light way to put it. The people turned on the Chief, forcing their way past the guards in the aim to¡­ Well Tommy didn¡¯t know exactly what their aim was, all he knew was that they moved like a tide in the town centre, causing far too much chaos to be ignored by the guards.

    ¡®They¡¯re trying to protect Nero and Selvas.¡¯ He realised. It was a dumb move. The pair were most likely going to die, today and here, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. All this would do was make it worse for those left alive.

    And things quickly got worse still.

    The guards drew their blades and without a hint of hesitation, tore into the mass of bodies like they were cattle to slaughter. Shrieks of panic flooded through the crowd and it did not take long for the united front to become a disorganised field of hunted men and women.

    Some fled for their lives, more than he expected stood their ground and fought for it instead. Most who did the latter fell to cruel blades. Justice was no match for Might, courage even less of one for armour.

    A child threw a rock at a guard. It bounced harmlessly off the guard¡¯s head, but not harmlessly enough to avoid the man¡¯s rage. He turned to the child with a fury in his eyes more fitting for animals and swung his blade down at the boy.

    He leapt back, dodging somehow, but not before earning a shallow cut to his side. An arc of crimson flew through the air and was drunk in by the sand. The boy cried out, slipped, fell on the ground and was in the process of rushing to his feet when the guard moved in to finish the job.

    ¡®The Chieftain will have our heads for this.¡¯ Tommy realised. He should leave, use the chaos to pack his things, loot what he could and make his way as far from Stradale as his legs could take him.

    It was all logical, self preserving, all right, and yet his body was moving before he could tell it not to. His fist was what met the guard first, slamming into his face, crunching into bone and leaving the bastard¡¯s head to snap back.

    The guard stumbled backwards and stopped in a daze. Bloody teeth fell out of his mouth and he looked at Tommy like there were several of him. The man¡¯s face was wrong, misshapen. One of his cheekbones, Tommy realised, had actually caved in. He¡¯d always been strong, even with the starvation and addiction.

    ¡°You have no idea how much I¡¯ve wanted to do that to you bastards.¡± Tommy heard himself growl his words out rather than speak. His heart beat like a drum, his arms vibrated with a raw adrenaline fueled animation. He was terrified, more terrified than he¡¯d ever been. But he was doing the right thing and that was a different type of feeling altogether.

    Tommy doubted the guard saw the strike that sent him into the ground coming, but his hunter friends did, and they were eager to avenge their colleague.

    Three of them charged at him, and Tommy moved quickly. He rushed for the closest one, blocked his strike by the wrist and met him with a headbutt that left even his head ringing from the impact.

    The man dropped like a sack and that left two coming up behind him. Tommy surprised them with a wild elbow swing behind, it made contact, but barely, only doing enough damage with its glancing, clumsy impact to send one a step backwards.

    The second¡¯s axe was already coming for him and it was only his enemy¡¯s poor footing that allowed Tommy to keep his head when the hunter slipped. The weapon¡¯s edge left a gash across his ear.

    And the remaining two bastards circled him, cruel blades already coated with blood yet leering gluttonously for his.

    He backed away, reached towards his belt for his dagger and couldn¡¯t find it. Must have lost it, or must have sold it. He didn¡¯t know, the past few days had been a blur, and now wasn¡¯t the time to focus on that.

    The downed guard¡¯s blade was a few steps behind him, and Tommy knew any attempt to run and grab it would have the two others descend on him like vultures. He only had his fists and he wasn¡¯t exactly confident in how much help they¡¯d be against such a number¡¯s disadvantage.

    Things were getting worse too, because it was just that sort of day. The hunter he¡¯d headbutted was getting up slowly, stirring and groaning while doing so, but getting up all the same.

    ¡°I¡¯ve been looking for an excuse to put you out of your misery Tommy.¡± One of them said, They had a thick beard to cover up parts of a scar that ran from their ear to their chin. His eyes held a repulsion to them that Tommy recognised well.

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    Not from him, but from everyone in Stradale.

    To be honest, he didn¡¯t remember him all too well but given Tommy¡¯s record it wouldn¡¯t be stretch to assume he¡¯d wronged him somehow.

    That was sort of what he did best. Wrong people.

    But today would be different, today he¡¯d do something right.

    Or at least he¡¯d die trying.

    The situation was already dire, and with the third one rising, Tommy knew he had to act fast or it would become hopeless.

    He charged for the scarred hunter with a roar, the suddenness of it was enough to spark a light of panic in the man and leave him stunned.

    Tommy grabbed his axe by the length and used that as leverage to lean in for a headbutt. The man lowered his head to the strike barely connected and for a terrifying moment the pair were locked in a struggle while his friend charged at him.

    Tommy tensed his muscles, grit his teeth and tried one last time to pull the axe from the man¡¯s fingers, but to no avail. His footing was all wrong, grip too, and he was running out of time.

    He let go of the guard¡¯s axe just as his friend¡¯s sword cut into the space between them.

    Tommy earned a cut to the arm for his sluggishness and he dripped fountains of red onto the dirt. The pain hissed like the kiss of hot steel and it took everything in him to retain his wits enough to dodge back from another terrible slash.

    He stole a quick glance at his hand and it told him he was losing blood and doing so quickly. He wasn¡¯t going to last long, and to make matters worse, the third hunter was back on his feet with eyes screaming for revenge.

    ¡®I did my best.¡¯ He told himself, but even he knew that wasn¡¯t true. He couldn¡¯t even remember the last time he was at his best. Trikitax made eating an afterthought both when he had it in his system and when he was trying to get it in. The comedown made him feel like shit and piss mixed into a perfectly distributed bowl.

    He couldn¡¯t even remember what normal felt like.

    With Might like his, what could he have achieved if he put himself to honing it?

    ¡®I guess I¡¯ll never know.¡¯

    The three hunters circled him now, a pack of predators preparing for a feast, No, not predators, scavengers. None of the three seemed overly eager to risk their neck by diving in for the kill. They would rather hang back and let the other two do the heavy lifting.

    ¡®Well, that or wait for me to bleed out and die.¡¯

    Tommy¡¯s knees felt like candlesticks. They melted under the burning weight of his torso and he fell onto them, only managing to prop himself up by his hands.

    That, it seemed, was enough to urge his attackers.

    The scarred hunter moved in with intent. Tommy saw it all happen but he seemed oh so far away and helpless to do anything about it. His killer raised his blade and brought it down like a Demon¡¯s judgement.

    He closed his eyes, too much of a coward to face his own death. But when he opened his eyes, it was not oblivion that stared back at him.

    Granny Cain¡¯s blade held the man¡¯s axe in the air. For a moment, all was still, the two struggled for control, if one could call an encounter between a Face Eater and a flea a struggle.

    With an effortless flick of her wrist, Cain twisted the axe out of his grip. With the next she was swinging her blade down at him.

    The last thing the scarred hunter did was gurgle as blood spilled from the gash in his neck.

    The other two were running then, not a moment passing before they did. Only mad men fought Cain.

    Only madder ones hoped to escape her.

    They didn¡¯t make it very far, but their cries did.

    The wrinkled woman flicked her blade sharply and sent an arc of blood onto the dirt.

    She looked at Tommy like she¡¯d just caught him ogling her, and he would have thought the revulsion in her was due to him being an addict who¡¯d wronged half of the people in stradale already. But he and everyone else knew that Cain simply did not like people.

    ¡°You¡¯re not very good at this fighting thing, are you?¡± She sniffed.

    Tommy rubbed his head. ¡°I¡¯m¡­ I¡¯m bleeding out.¡±

    ¡°Case in point.¡± She said as if he¡¯d just informed her they¡¯d be having mild weather today. At the very least, the woman walked up to Tommy.

    She got on a knee, reached into her satchel and drew out a red rag. On it Tommy could see black runes etched into the surface. ¡°A waste of perfectly good healing rags.¡± She murmured.

    ¡°Those don¡¯t look like any healing rags I¡¯ve seen.¡± Tommy noted as she brought his arm up to her face to inspect it. Healing rags were typically white in colour for one, and he didn¡¯t recognise any of those runes.

    ¡°No it does not.¡± She said. ¡°Because you, my boy, have never been to war.¡± She finished. Before Tommy could ask any more questions, she was wrapping the cloth around his wound.

    Tommy had felt pain before, he¡¯d caused it too, but he couldn¡¯t imagine any pain he¡¯d been associated with measured up to even half of what he felt now. The cloth felt like thousands of needles sinking their bladed tips into his skin and secreting poison into his veins. It felt like the muscle beneath was fighting to get out, and succeeding. It felt like¡­Words failed. They¡¯d have failed a poet, nevermind an addict.

    He tried to pull the wrap off, but Cain wouldn¡¯t let him. The old woman had him pinned against the ground like he was a toddler attempting to fight off an adult. It was the second time in Tommy¡¯s life he¡¯d been directly overpowered. The first by anyone but the Light Breather.

    Tommy didn¡¯t know how long the pain lasted, he only knew that he stopped screaming when it did.

    ¡°Ah, yes, did I mention it hurts.¡± Cain noted dismissively.

    He was panting, drenched in his own sweat and invigorated.

    ¡®Invigorated?¡¯

    He looked at his arm to see the rag burning away like paper already consumed by a fire and struck by a wind. The flesh beneath was healed and the pain and aches all over his body, though still there, were faded now. A memory rather than an experience.

    ¡°How?¡± He began, but she interrupted him.

    ¡°Like I said, very good healing rags.¡± Cain told him quickly. ¡°I couldn¡¯t just let you die here.¡±

    ¡°Thank you.¡±

    ¡°You have far too much Might.¡± She explained, making Tommy ever so slightly less thankful for her aide. ¡°Stradale needs all the help it can get and so do Nero and Selvas.¡±

    Tommy picked up an axe from one of the dead men. ¡°Okay.¡± He nodded. ¡°What can I do?¡±

 Chapter 24: Even The Best Of Men Break, And I Am Not The Best Of Men.

    Chapter 24: Even The Best Of Men Break, And I Am Not The Best Of Men.

    Selvas spat into her father¡¯s eye. It wasn¡¯t the most creative of moves and it was far from effective, but it was something. And while pinned to a wall, losing her vision and most importantly losing time as her father choked her to death, she simply could not afford the luxury of doing absolutely nothing.

    Selvas felt the hands loosen around her throat, not enough to make breathing easy, but enough to make it possible. Then they were trembling, and soon they let Selvas slip from his grasp.

    She fell to the ground, coughing and spluttering. Every breath she took was a much needed one and she cursed her bastard lungs for not being able to hold more in one go.

    Her father stumbled backwards while she tried desperately to pick up her scrambled wits.

    He looked unsteady on his feet, like a man trying to balance on a rickety bridge. He shook his head as if attempting to blink away stars from his vision.

    All signs that her poison was working.

    About fucking time.

    She¡¯d once heard from her father that what the thrall shackle inflicted wasn¡¯t pain, because he¡¯d seen enough torture to know it didn¡¯t work.

    He said it wasn¡¯t mind control either though. Instead it was somewhere just in-between, its magic balanced at the precipice of where both concepts met in order to create something worse than even the sum of their parts.

    Today, as he charged at his daughter with her blade¡¯s poison running through his veins and yet bleeding only with the intent to kill her, Selvas thought she was at least a fraction of a step towards understanding what he¡¯d meant.

    She stumbled more than rolled out of the way of his attack, but the result was one in the same in that she succeeded in avoiding a collision with a goliath of a man sprinting full speed into her body.

    It helped that he was slower now thanks to the poison making its way through his system. He should be down in a minute, but she hadn¡¯t ever fought anyone as durable as him before so her estimates were up in the air.

    What Selvas knew was that her father was still on his two feet, and quite intent on making sure she still wasn''t.

    She still didn¡¯t have any proper weapons on her and knew sprinting over to any of the ones on the ground would just leave her open.

    On the bright side, neither did her father.

    ¡®Some consolation at least.¡¯

    He came at her again and Selvas stood her ground this time.

    He hadn¡¯t expected that so she used it to her advantage, ducking under an arm swing and meeting his ribs with her fist with quick jabs.

    He seemed to barely feel them, shifting slightly and sending pain down her wrists with the rigidity of him, but ¡®barely¡¯ was enough to do at least some damage and hopefully buy herself some more time.

    Though not a lot, because he was swinging those meaty arms of his soon, again, and again. Selvas dodged back like her life depended on it, perhaps because it quite literally did.

    She kept herself light on her feet, careful to slip back from any grapples and stealing a quick blow or two to make her he never got too comfortable attacking her.

    There were narrow misses here and there, but those grew wider and wider as the seconds passed and the poison worked.

    If her father could focus on anything else but the burning of his shackles she¡¯d have liked to imagine he was proud of her.

    But she doubted he could, and since that was the case he¡¯d be thinking of everything in the book he could use to kill her.

    ¡®Shit!¡¯

    Selvas realised she¡¯d fallen into his trap just a fraction of a moment after he must have. But that fraction, it seemed, might make all the difference.

    A half glance told her behind was a wall. He¡¯d trapped her and she hadn''t even noticed.

    That was when the swing came, a blow so furious, so hot and angry that its approach made its predecessors seem like crawls in comparison.

    Selvas abandoned any hope of dodging and raised her arms to protect her head from that murderous left hook. She couldn¡¯t afford to get knocked out, couldn¡¯t-

    ¡®Wait.¡¯

    It was a feint.

    But by the time she realised, she¡¯d already opened up herself further. Futily she tried lowering her arms to her abdomen. She was only halfway there when his left fist cracked into the soft spot just beneath her ribs and turned her legs to jelly.

    Selva wretched out yesterday¡¯s lunch as she keeled over around his knuckles. The pain was thick, red and sharp and before she could fully begin to process it a new kind of agony was about to join the frey.

    She saw the blow coming for her head, but her arms were slack extensions on her torso. It connected wickedly, turning her vision white and sending her to the ground.

    By the time colour and depth returned, her father was on top of her, axe recovered and raised high. He swung it down and Selvas caught him by the wrist.

    Her death hovered a few inches over her neck and as he pressed down further with what little strength remained in him, it crawled ever closer and closer.

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    It was a testament to the potency of her poison that she was still able to physically contend with him even this much.

    But it seemed he was going to be the victor of this final exchange.

    She grit her teeth, roared, snarled and kicked with everything she had, but the blade dropped lower and lower, until it was finally kissing the skin of her neck.

    Selvas felt the warmth of a bloody trickle run down her flesh.

    She peered into her father¡¯s eyes and saw sorrow, anguish and all their cousins dancing deep within the depths of his soul.

    ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± She whispered. ¡°I forgive you.¡±

    Tears spilled past his eyes and crashed against her cheeks.

    His hands were trembling more severely now, breathing heavier, eyes ever more unfocused.

    It wouldn¡¯t be long before she was down. She just had to hold on. That was easier said than done however, her arms were aflame, her head pounding and she was certain she¡¯d at least broken one rib and cracked a good many others during their exchange.

    The fight was going to be over soon and it all depended on which one of them would give first.

    It wasn¡¯t Selvas.

    Her father¡¯s hand slipped, grip weak. Selvas twisted the axe out of his other fingers and slammed the butt of it against his head with everything that her arms had left.

    He fell to the side and crashed into the dirt like a felled tree.

    Much to her horror, Selvas saw him begin the motions of a crawl onto his feet. She tried to do the same, but she just didn¡¯t have it in her.

    Her father got all the way up to his knees before collapsing right back down again.

    He was down. The battle was over.

    As much as she longed for it, she didn¡¯t have time for relief.

    Selvas crawled over to her father, reached into her belt and pulled out a vial of antidote.

    ¡°When this is all over, you¡¯ll be free.¡± She told him.

    Selvas parted his lips and poured its contents down his mouth.

    It would take a while before he got back up, but he¡¯d be fine.

    She looked around her. All of Stradale was alight with emotion, with hope, citizens clashed guards and even as they were cut down, they were only replaced by more men.

    Men filled with hope.

    Nero had given them this, certainly not on purpose, but he had. And he¡¯d given it to her too.

    And in saving him she¡¯d ignited that same hope in several more people.

    A hope that stradale could be more than a plaything of the Demons.

    She hoped dearly that she hadn¡¯t made a mistake.

    ¡°Selvas, Selvas!¡± The voice was familiar, yet she did well to point an axe at it just in case.

    Gunther abruptly slowed his pace towards her at the sight of her brandishing a weapon at him. ¡°A-are you okay?¡± He asked cautiously.

    ¡°I¡¯m fine.¡± She grunted. She wasn¡¯t.

    Gunther seemed sceptical about that but had the good manners not to mention it now. His attention was on her father, lying motionless on the ground behind her. ¡°Is he?¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s alive.¡± Selvas said. She tried to get to her feet, but her side ignited into a furious pain in an instant. ¡°Fuck!¡±

    Gunther hurried to her side, ignoring the weapon and inspecting her wounds. ¡°Stop moving, you¡¯ll only hurt yourself.¡± He said. The way his eyes darkened at the sight of her side told her all she needed to know about the extent of the damage.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stay here, I need to help.¡± She began arguing, knowing it was futile, but doing it all the same.

    Gunther shook his head. ¡°Tommy and Cain and some other Mighty are dealing with the Chieftain¡¯s men. What you need is to get to safety.¡±

    ¡°Tommy?¡± Selvas arched an eyebrow.

    Gunther for his part did not seem even half surprised as she was. He just shrugged. ¡°Always knew the kid had it in him. Just a shame it took the end of the world to bring it out.¡±

    ¡°I still need to be out there, what about Nero?¡± Selvas asked, attempting to struggle to her feet and wincing in pain yet again.

    Gunther¡¯s eyes fell. ¡°Nero¡¯s on his own, I¡¯m sorry. We have to go.¡±

    Selvas winced then nodded. ¡°Wait¡­ Just let me do one more thing first.¡±

    <hr>

    Death was approaching Nero; big, red and with rows of teeth as sharp as needles. Why, then, did he charge directly towards its maw?

    Despite the agony that ran through him, he was actually still in this fight. Cain, he decided, was the reason. She¡¯d made him intimately familiar with pain and exhaustion, and that allowed him to retain his wits when they desperately scrambled away from him.

    The Chieftain did not expect Nero to meet him with a dash of his own, but it felt like the Light within him had taken control of his soul, mind and body, and made it a vessel of hate. Hate, rage and malice..

    He saw how the lights in his hands burned like an inferno, hotter than ever, wilder than ever, they danced to invisible winds like snakes in a storm, hungry for something to sink their fangs into.

    Nero would give them that.

    The Chieftain was on the defensive immediately, and Nero¡¯s first swing only grazed his cheek. It singed his hairs and scorched the top layer of his flesh.

    An omen of what was to come.

    He swung his legs at the bastard¡¯s face but stopped the attack midway as his side exploded in agony.

    Shit.

    It was the monster¡¯s turn to attack and he did so ruthlessly, swinging arms upon arms at Nero and forcing him to dance out of their way without upsetting his side.

    The strikes marked him with a few glancing blows, each like hammers but none managing to send him to the ground.

    He wouldn¡¯t let that happen again.

    The Demon¡¯s next attack came from frustration, a desperation to connect with a direct hit and put his opponent out of their misery.

    Nero ducked under it, slipped into his guard and slammed his elbow right between the creature¡¯s ribs. If Demon anatomy was anything like human¡¯s he should have just felt a shock go through his liver.

    The gasp of pain above him told him he had.

    Nero helped the Demon shut his mouth with a furious uppercut. The pain in his side didn¡¯t let him extend as much as he should have, but it was still more than enough to rock the bastard.

    He went stumbling back in a daze and Nero gave chase.

    His lower jaw was burned, the bright red giving way to a darkness underneath as his light continued to eat away at the skin.

    Nero wondered just when the last time the monster felt pain was.

    ¡®When was the last time he knew fear?¡¯

    Well, Nero was going to make him intimately familiar with those sensations once more.

    He struck his jaw, and relieved him of a handful of teeth. Something the colour of coal and tar clung to the teeth.

    Their blood is black¡­

    Nero¡¯s fist caught his belly and sent him folding into the ground.

    He knelt on top of him and continued to bash his face in with his burning fists.

    Someone roared with his voice, a mad man who¡¯d been begging to be let out for far too long.

    He remembered his sleepless nights, confusion, fear and loneliness, so much loneliness.

    ¡°FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU, FUCK YOU!¡±

    He slammed his fist into the Demon¡¯s face one more time but there was a toughness to it that wasn¡¯t there before.

    His Light had extinguished.

    ¡°No-¡±

    The Demon punched Nero across the face like a stray wrecking ball. It sent him rolling into the dirt with a hot agony burning through his cheek.

    That he was still conscious was more a testament to the poor angle of attack than anything to do with his own toughness.

    Nero scrambled for his feet and a kick to his injured- glancing and ill-aimed though it was- side had him abandoning the very notion of that for instead clutching to his ribs and screaming.

    Above him the Chieftain stood, face ruined, and misshapen like a dropped cinder block. Dark blood ran down his face, his horns were chipped and he had one eye swollen shut.

    The working one glared at Nero with sulphuric malice. ¡°You rat! I am Vfangard, a Demon of a thousand years, slayer of the five ringed beast and Chieftain of Stradale. To think a child would have ideas of defeating me.¡± He spat a globule of black ichor into the dirt. ¡°You know not your station, Light Breather.¡±

    ¡°Nero, get up!¡± Ember warned.

    ¡°Afraid, I can¡¯t quite do that.¡± He groaned as the world spun around him.

    He drew in his Light but was only able to create sparks between his fingers.

    ¡°Can¡¯t do that either.¡± He sighed.

    He was tired, so, so tired.

    The Demon raised its foot high up in the air, and brought it down to crush Nero¡¯s skull.

 Chapter 25: Sleeping Giant

    Chapter 25: Sleeping Giant

    Something moved like a bull through the streets of Stradale.

    When Nero saw it, he could hardly believe his eyes, it wasn¡¯t until the Executioner crashed into the Chieftain that he came to fully appreciate what his sights had come upon.

    The unstoppable force met an immovable object. One of them had to give, and it was not Selvas¡¯ father.

    The Demon went stumbling backwards. His one eye widened in shock, narrowed in confusion then grimaced in recognition.

    At the sight of his scarred unshackled wrist, Nero understood all those emotions at once.

    Selvas¡¯s father stared at the crimson creature with a hatred so thick he thought he could see it in congealing in the air. He was almost vibrating in his rage, fingers animated as if in the starting stages of a mad frenzy.

    Nero thought he hated this being.

    Perhaps he didn¡¯t even know where hate began.

    ¡°You have been freed.¡± The monster said as if hoping there was a chance that merely mentioning the fact would cause it to change.

    The Executioner answered with violence. He came at him with his ferocious axe and swung it for the Demon¡¯s neck.

    A miss, but that wasn¡¯t nearly enough to discourage him.

    He swung again, while the Chieftain was still in the process of stepping back from his last attack. This time the enemy blocked, catching the man¡¯s arm with his and slamming his own head into his enemy¡¯s like a bowling ball.

    The Executioner stepped back, dazed and the Demon chose that moment to crash his fist into the man¡¯s face.

    Nero could not have survived a direct hit to the head from that creature.

    Selvas¡¯ father could.

    The blow sounded like thunder, The former thrall fell to his knees as a gash from his head spurted blood. The man propped himself up only by an arm. He was down, but still in this fight.

    Nero just had to keep it that way.

    He called for his Light and found it a weak and distant thing.

    Guess I¡¯ll just have to do this the old fashioned way then. He sighed.

    It was a feat to crawl to his feet, his legs ached, his head screamed and his knuckles felt like they¡¯d been bruised down to the bone.

    He could still stand however.

    And that was bad news for the enemy.

    To his left was a downed guard, by his hip was a sword the man hadn''t even gotten to draw before his last breath.

    Nero relieved him of it and dashed at the Demon.

    The Chieftain turned his eye on him.

    Nero was slow, slower than he¡¯d ever been. Several days on the run mixed with a couple of ruined ribs could do that to a man.

    But so was his opponent. Several punches to the face from the Light Breather would do that to a Demon.

    It swung its big meaty arms and Nero let Cain¡¯s training take control of his body.

    He slipped past the attack and brought his blade down on the length of his arm like a batter striking a baseball.

    The blade bit through skin and into the meat, but stopped midway into his flesh.

    ¡®Shit, he¡¯s too Tough!¡¯

    The Demon growled and brought his free arm down at Nero.

    He dragged the blade out of his limb as he ducked, dodged, then slipped on something wet.

    ¡®Shit!¡¯

    He fell on his knees.

    His enemy¡¯s foot was racing towards him again when the Executioner saved him once more.

    This time with an axe to the monster¡¯s torso.

    The sharper weapon sank deeper than Nero¡¯s blade, but the steel didn¡¯t reach deep enough to damage his insides. An axe embedded in the side was still, however, an axe in the fucking side.

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    He dragged it free of the monster¡¯s ribs and left a spray of black in its wake.

    It was then that Nero saw something in his enemy¡¯s face that up until now he hadn¡¯t even been able to imagine Demons as capable of. Fear.

    ¡°Stop, stop now, stop this very instant!¡± It ordered.

    But Nero had no intentions of listening.

    He came at the creature again, sword chasing flesh.

    The Executioner followed suit, his vengeful axe never lagging far behind Nero¡¯s own blade.

    Together they assailed the bastard, putting him farther on the defensive with every new attack and never giving him a chance to breathe.

    Nero stuck to his blindside and for that got more than a few cuts off of him. The Executioner scored less, but hit here and there as well. Together, they were cutting the big bad monster down, piece by piece.

    It¡¯s not enough.

    Nero¡¯s lungs were burning, his arms were weak and each swing made his sword feel heavier than the last. He was getting slower, tired. And it wouldn¡¯t be long till his opponent used that against him.

    For now he could still duck under wild swings before they struck him, but how long would that last?

    His ally wasn¡¯t faring much better. He was less fatigued, but his head was clearly rung by the strike he¡¯d taken, blood still gushed out of that wound in his head and his legs seemed to grow ever shakier from the knees down underneath .

    Wordlessly, the both of them stopped their attacking and stood at either side of their opponent, brandishing their weapons at him in trembling hands.

    The enemy heaved and huffed as well. Inky rivers ran down his muscled arms, though far less than Nero would have preferred for just how many times they had struck him.

    The bastard¡¯s skin was tough.

    He was hunched over slightly, as if the weight of his upper body had increased ten times over.

    He was tired too, pushed to his limit just as they had been. But still the question of who would come out on top still hung in the air.

    ¡®You just need to get through this.¡¯ Nero told himself. ¡®Just get through this and it¡¯ll all be over, no more lying to Selvas, no more secrets, no more everything.¡¯

    ¡°I¡¯m almost there.¡± Nero told himself and tightened his grip around his sword. A strike to somewhere vital, his enemy¡¯s neck or his heart. That could end this all.

    Nero dashed at the monster a moment after his ally did. Together they moved like scissor blades, swooping down from either side to put the beast down.

    The axe came down like a guillotine¡¯s edge.

    And founds its mark.

    Glinting runed steel buried itself deep into the Demon¡¯s left shoulder blade and spilled rivers of tar coloured blood in its wake. It was the deepest blow they¡¯d managed to land on the monster and it carried all the man¡¯s weight behind it.

    It made sense then that it was a trap.

    Nero didn¡¯t see the Demon raise its one good arm, he just saw it smash into the man¡¯s face like a train.

    He staggered, like a man who was no match for his whiskey. And dropped to the ground like a sack.

    There, Nero¡¯s ally lay motionless.

    It was as good a plan as the Demon could hope for while on the backfoot of this affair. Sacrifice a limb to down an entire opponent.

    Nero¡¯s blade raced for his neck, but he¡¯d already raised his good arm to block his hopes. It slashed into it, cutting, but not deep enough.

    He didn¡¯t even let the frustration register before he was striking again, this time a stab aimed for the bastard¡¯s gut, angled upwards to get his heart at the last moment.

    It connected with all his weight behind it, but to his ribs not his gut. The bastard had twisted to the side just before impact.

    Nero was dragging his sword back for another attack when something terrible came down on his shoulder. He screamed at the pain, dropped his blade and only then did he see the Demon pull his arm back from Nero¡¯s ruined shoulder.

    Nero¡¯s legs gave out, he was on his knees.

    Ember screamed so loud he thought her voice might break.

    Nero grabbed his sword with his left hand.

    His worse hand by far.

    He had little chance of winning a prolonged clash with only one arm, none with only his left.

    He had to strike now and deep down he knew this attack would be his last, for better or for worse.

    Nero batted the pain away with the remaining fragments of his will and sprung to his feet.

    Neck or heart.

    An attack to either was one his enemy would see coming.

    Yet he had to hit somewhere decisive.

    Nero swung with all he had left in him.

    The blade soared through the air and connected with the Demon¡¯s one good eye. It cut deep, ruining the organ and birthing a spray of blood in its wake.

    The Demon shrieked, like some animal-thing with little wit and less mastery. It swung wildly, hoping to catch Nero with a blow but only meeting the air.

    Fear of the dark.

    He supposed that was not exclusive to humanity.

    It tripped over something and fell onto its back.

    While it was scrambling to get back onto its feet, Nero moved.

    He limped more than walked towards the creature, each motion sending spasms of agony through his shoulder and birthing new ideas of how to bring an end to the creature.

    ¡°Please¡­ please spare me, I, I can help you, they¡¯ll come for you for this, but I can help you, tell them it was all a big misunderstanding my boy!¡± The creature cried out pathetically. It was whimpering, like a little boy scared to death of his father¡¯s belt. When no answer came, his voice turned edged with malice, trembling with a pathetic attempt at intimidation. ¡° You think you can get away with overturning the natural order boy?! Rex Infernus, The Three Faced Monarch, he will come for you, he will have your head!¡±

    It almost seemed human, almost.

    ¡°Nero-¡± Ember began.

    ¡°He has to die.¡± He hissed. He¡¯d done far too much for Nero to forgive, he wanted this, he needed this.

    He wasn¡¯t expecting what Ember said next to get to him, but it did. ¡°Make him suffer.¡± She ordered it more than requested, like a commander to a soldier. Her words seemed far too controlled, eyes far too vast, as if he was speaking to something ancient and long since forgotten.

    It disconcerted him, but she had not given an order that he had any intentions of disobeying.

    Nero¡¯s answer came quickly, he waited until the Demon was up to its knees before swinging his blade across the thing¡¯s throat and leaving a gash in its wake.

    Drowning on your own blood. Not the most creative of ways to kill someone you loathe, but horrifying enough and Nero¡¯s body was already moments from ignoring his inputs and crashing into the dirt.

    He couldn¡¯t risk the chance that he¡¯d get away.

    And now, as it clutched its throat dearly and blood spilled between fingers, it was clear this was its end.

    Still, Nero stood and watched, like a sentry to a station.

    His head pounded, body screamed and knees burned, but he didn¡¯t move, not until the Demon¡¯s gurgling stopped, his breathing ceased and its body lay still as a pile of rocks.

    Only then did Nero stumbled backwards against a wall, slide onto the ground and shut his eyes.

    With his body covered in dirt, bruised, battered and shoulder ruined, it was the most peaceful sleep Nero had since coming to Hell.

 Chapter 26: The Aftermath.

    Chapter 26: The Aftermath.

    Stradale¡¯s night had hit, and hit hard. The cold sank its teeth into Nero¡¯s skin and muscles, burning them with a smokeless fire.

    He¡¯d gotten used to the cold lately however, and had several layers of cloth around his arm to shield him from the bulk of its wrath.

    That was not what made this night pleasant however, Hell¡¯s nights were still brutal, and the town was still in shambles from the morning¡¯s affairs.

    Still, there was something intangibly good about tonight, he could feel it in the corner of his eyes, the air and most of all in the loudness.

    He was sitting outside the town hall, at the side of the building, obstructed by shrubs and a random assortment of junk.

    Still he got a good view of the frenzy of celebration that overcame the town.

    Celebratory fires burned as the Chieftain¡¯s corpse was paraded about the town, hefted in front of each home as if to serve as definite proof and reassurance that the monster was really, really dead and would never hurt any man woman or child again. It took several Mighty to heft him, even dead and unresisting, but dead he remained.

    ¡°That¡¯s because of you.¡± Ember chimed, a proud smile on her face.

    Nero glanced over at a mother clutching the lifeless corpse of her daughter.

    ¡°That¡¯s because of me too.¡± He noted.

    Ember¡¯s tiny face fell. ¡°That¡¯s not fair on yourself.¡±

    Perhaps it wasn¡¯t. But had he not spent so much time trying to protect his skin and actually thinking of a way to put down the Chieftain, could he have done it in a far less bloody way?

    Almost certainly yes.

    Guards, hunters and any other Mighty who had fought for the Chieftain were dragged by crowds up to the stand where Nero was supposed to have been killed today. One by one, they had their heads forced into nooses and were hanged to death despite their desperate pleading.

    Nero searched his mind for how he felt and found conflict. He simply did not have it in him to care all that much about the guards who¡¯d tortured Stradale, but perhaps at least some of those Mighty, like Selvas, were just trying to keep Stradale safe by appeasing its Demon.

    His eyes fell on Ember instead and he saw her staring at them with her face squeezed into a frown. Before he could tell her to look away, the Imp spoke. ¡°They sided with the Demons, they deserve to die.¡±

    The hot conviction in her voice startled Nero. For a second it was hard to believe it was the same bubbly girl that Nero was speaking to.

    It seemed much of that cadence evaporated at the sight of Demons and gave way to something Nero didn''t know what to make of.

    He supposed he could understand some level of the hatred however. No, not some level, fucking all of it. He¡¯d been running from them for what felt like an eternity, every shadow in the night was a Demon coming for him, every footstep was one approaching to uncover his identity.

    If he didn¡¯t hate Demons then he loved everything else by comparison.

    Nero said nothing to Ember however, instead, he let the exhaustion take him for the second time today and slipped into unconsciousness once more. This time the sound of a roaring town was his lullaby.

    Morning came quickly, and the sound of shuffling feet on the town hall''s wooden floors woke Nero up. It told him the place was getting filled with more and more people.

    They were having a meeting.

    Murmuring filled the air, and though he couldn¡¯t make out what any one individual was saying, there was a lightness to how they spoke. It was not in whispers or hushed tones, but clear and bold.

    ¡°Welcome everyone!¡± A familiar voice cut through the noise and all fell silent at the sound of Selvas. Her voice sounded different though, all hoarse and rough like she had gravel down her throat. He heard her walk through squeaking wood and stop in front of the room.

    ¡°The Chieftain is dead.¡± She announced, and was barely done speaking before the room erupted into a sea of cheers and whoops.

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    The joy lasted a while and Nero could only imagine Selvas smiling as she drank it in. Would she actually smile, or would she just stand there all stone faced. Selvas was an interesting woman.

    ¡°But this is not the end.¡± Whatever her expression must have been, her voice was now free of all levity and hanging like an anchor above the crowd¡¯s head. ¡°Stradale is a rebel town now, which means the Circle will want to make an example out of us.¡± She said, ¡°But that also means we get to decide our own fate, no more will we be the playthings of a Demon.¡±

    The conviction in her words was as strong as the very chains that once to hold Stradale. Nero imagined to some it wrapped around them tight like a warm blanket, and for others it was like a noose being fastened around their neck.

    One of the latter parties spoke up with a quivering voice. A woman, or perhaps just a very shaken man. ¡°What about the Light Breather, where is he?¡± They asked.

    Silence.

    In that moment, the people¡¯s hope was like glass, both an impossibly tangible thing and incredibly fragile as well.

    Selvas¡¯ next words shattered it. ¡°After slaying the Chieftain, Gunther and Cain took him to the apothecary and healed him. When they got back, he had left and hasn¡¯t been seen since.¡±

    Panicked murmurs broke through the crowd and feet shuffled uneasily atop the oak floor. It seemed like the people were one more piece of bad news away from scurrying out of the town hall like a pack of rats and never looking back at Stradale ever again.

    Much of what Selvas said was correct, his body still quivered and quaked in agony at every rudimentary motion, but thanks to the rags wrapped around him, Nero would still consider himself healed when juxtaposed against the state he''d left it in after the fight.

    He was still hiding.

    Why?

    ¡°You¡¯re gonna run.¡± Ember breathed, her words curiously enough lacking any judgement. It was more just a statement of facts. Fact that she certainly did not approve of, but facts no less.

    ¡°I can¡¯t stay here.¡± He whispered as if trying to keep his conscience from hearing. ¡°They know my face, my name, they know what I am.¡±

    ¡°And they love you for it.¡± Ember replied.

    ¡°They love a hero from prophecy, not the king of financial fraud.¡± He sighed

    ¡°Can¡¯t you be a hero for them?¡± Ember asked.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± He shook his head.

    ¡°How about for her?¡±

    Speeches were never really Selvas¡¯ preferred pass time. Hunting was, not the stalking, tracking, trapping, but the killing. Yes, just the killing. The electric feeling of holding absolute power over another life, and choosing when it ended. But she could hardly kill the people of her town now could she?

    Well, I could, very easily in fact, but it would be unethical.

    She chose words instead of violence. ¡°Calm down.¡± She said, only to find out it was the exact wrong thing to say by how the crowd almost seemed to calm up in reaction to it.

    Nero was gone, possibly long fucking gone by now. He¡¯d helped free the town, killed the Chieftain and saved her father. But now he was gone, and as much as she wanted him here, moping about it wasn¡¯t going to change that.

    Now she just had to convince the citizens of the same thing.

    ¡°When they come for us, how are we going to survive without the Light?¡± Enzo asked, he had three boys, a girl and two sisters to take care of. It made sense that he was worried.

    ¡°We¡¯ll work on creating manned stations around the town, barricades-.¡± Selvas began, only to be cut off.

    ¡°Why did he leave?!¡± Mariam asked, the adolescent son clutching her thigh.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure he had his reasons.¡± Selvas said softly. Wrong answer again, and this time someone else chimed in with an answer they thought was better.

    Noah the blacksmith commanded the attention of the crowd with his gruff voice and severe eyes. ¡°It¡¯s because he hates us, you turned on him Selvas, tried to offer him up on a platter to that red bastard.¡±

    ¡°I was doing what I thought was right.¡± She replied, feeling something tug inside of her. It wasn¡¯t necessarily pleasant to be reminded of what happened between her and Nero.

    ¡°And who¡¯s to say you won¡¯t decide turning him in is right again?¡± He asked.

    ¡°I saved him, I changed my mind.¡± She explained.

    ¡°And nothing¡¯s stopping you from changing it once more.¡± He shot at her.

    He was being emotional, but in some ways logical too, and worst of all charismatic. A combination of those three was the perfect concoction to draw in the crowd. And Selvas couldn¡¯t compete with that.

    She looked at the distress in their eyes, there was hate aimed at her, but overwhelmingly the people just looked lost. They couldn¡¯t live like this, much less defend from an invading force.

    Dead men.

    She was looking at dead men. All of her friends, family, every single one of them, dead waiting to find out.

    Fuck.

    ¡°Fuck.¡±

    Selvas turned at the voice.

    Nero was standing at the door, back leaned against the frame and with an arm in a sling. ¡°Who forgot to invite me to the meeting?¡± He chuckled.

    But no one laughed. No, they merely looked at him as if he were something ethereal unreal; A substance, object or being that by all known laws should not be real and yet... There he is.

    He limped more than walked through the room, face tightening with exertion at each motion. Yet if Selvas was judging by the awe in the people¡¯s eyes he might as well have been levitating his way through the air.

    The room was loud with silence, only briefly interrupted by the footsteps of the Light Breather.

    When he got to Selvas he grinned and she failed in her efforts not to show a hint of a smile.

    ¡°I thought you left.¡± She whispered.

    ¡°The thought never even crossed my mind.¡± He smiled , lying through his teeth.

    He placed a hand on her shoulder and with a groan, used her as leverage to turn and face the crowd.

    ¡°I¡¯m not really good at giving speeches.¡± Nero began, then hesitated. ¡°Actually, no, I¡¯m great at them, it¡¯s just that usually they¡¯re made with the purpose of tricking whoever¡¯s listening into believing I have their best interest at heart.¡±

    Confused glances went through the crowd and Nero hurried to continue. ¡°But this is different.¡± He added quickly. ¡°I uhm¡­ I¡¯m here.¡± He said, eyes burning like an inferno with a certainty greater than one might be of the colour of the sky. Selvas felt him squeeze her shoulder tighter. ¡°No matter what happens next. I will be here for it.¡±

    She turned to him, opened her mouth to speak, but was interrupted by the voice of another.

    ¡°There¡¯s an Imp on your shoulder!¡± Mariam said.

    Selvas¡¯s eyes narrowed and widened. She was right, there was, in fact, a bright, golden Imp.

 Chapter 27: The Great Plunge.

    Chapter 27: The Great Plunge.

    The people had filed out of the town hall, and with them followed the void-stuffing noise that Nero had come to grow fond of.

    He¡¯d found himself feeding off of the hope that lit up behind their eyes at the sight of him. They believed he could save Stradale, and because of them, he believed he could as well.

    With them gone however, there was only the cold practicality of Selvas and the hot pessimism of Cain.

    The trio sat uncomfortably in their chairs, and Nero didn¡¯t want to be the one to break the grating silence with talk of whatever laid on the horizon for Stradale and its people.

    He got the feeling no one else did, Cain however was the first to speak, though her words weren¡¯t necessarily the ones he expected. ¡°A Light Imp.¡± She muttered. He hadn¡¯t thought the woman could express surprise, he¡¯d figured she alternated between hate and malice and sometimes, when she was feeling particularly adventurous, spite.

    ¡°In the flesh.¡± Ember giggled bashfully. ¡°Well not flesh exactly, more like, fiery, magic thingy.¡±

    When the people were still here, more time than Nero would have preferred was spent on Ember being the centre of attention. A bit unfair given that he was the actual Light Breather and she his sidekick, but whatever.

    From being utterly invisible to the world to having so many people focused on her, Nero was worried she wouldn¡¯t be able to handle the attention.

    It turned out, she thrived in it. The Imp seemed to have been waiting for this very moment, answering whichever and whatever questions came flying her way without a second thought or a minute¡¯s rest.

    Nero didn¡¯t know why people had suddenly begun seeing her, maybe it had to do with him getting better with his Light Breathing or more people knowing he was the Light Breather, but whatever the reason, it certainly lifted a whole lot of spirits.

    Cain¡¯s, it seemed, were not among them. ¡°We¡¯re truly at the end of a Cycle, and it just had to start where I came to get away from it all.¡± The woman¡¯s lips curled like she¡¯d tasted something bitter and was being forced to swallow. She was pissed, angry but most concerning of all¡­ scared?

    ¡°What¡¯s a Cycle?¡± Nero found himself hesitantly asking. The instant both pairs of eyes set on him he felt his gut twist, his heart burn and his fist clench. He had to remind himself that he wasn¡¯t in danger anymore, that he could ask questions, at least here.

    Cain answered. ¡°Some say it''s a couple thousand years, some say five thousand, a few say million, though those ones are more than likely idiots. The point is at the end of a Cycle the status quo between humans and Demons is decided, do we decide our own destiny, or are we their playthings.¡±

    ¡°The last one was the one where the previous Light Breather turned on humanity.¡± Nero supplied, and felt an odd sense of guilt at that. A foolish reaction, he wasn¡¯t responsible for that, he wasn¡¯t even alive when it happened. A question bloomed alongside the guilt however. ¡°Has humanity ever won?¡±

    Selvas shrugged. ¡°If we have, it¡¯s too far back in the past for it to be recorded. Maybe the Demons would know, they¡¯re the ones with multi millenia long lives and access to history books, not us.¡±

    His eyes shifted to Ember and her expression did not contradict Selvas¡¯.

    He caught Cain staring at him from the corner of his eyes and turned sharply to meet her gaze. There was something uneasy about her stare, like she was trying to peer into the substance of his soul and peel away its layers. Nero felt a part of him recoil. ¡°You think I¡¯m going to betray you.¡± He noted, direct and pointed.

    Cain was as still as a statue. ¡°I don¡¯t know what to think kid, but deciding on which path you¡¯re going to take this early on would be stupid of me.¡±

    In other words, you¡¯re going to keep a hawkish eye on me and cut me down the moment you think I¡¯ll flip.

    Would he flip?

    It would be the smart thing to do, if Selvas was right and humanity had lost practically every single time, then why would he tie himself to a sinking ship?

    Nero felt himself putting his familiar, snug skin-preserving boots on and didn¡¯t take them off. Instead he stopped halfway. He didn¡¯t have to make a decision on whether or not he¡¯d plan a world shaking revolution now, especially when he knew so little about the world as was.

    He¡¯d save Stradale.

    That he could do, that he wanted to do.

    Save Selvas.

    Everything else was tertiary.

    ¡°Let¡¯s focus on what¡¯s ahead of us.¡± Nero pressed, trying to ease the tension. He was good at it usually but with these two specifically he found himself wishing Gunther was here. Sadly he wasn¡¯t, he was tending to the numerous injured in the town.

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    Thankfully the survival of their town was a strong enough motivator to get them moving onto subjects that weren¡¯t a question of where Nero¡¯s loyalty ultimately laid.

    ¡°The Circle will check in on Stradale weekly with a message sent by Corvix.¡± Cain noted.

    Nero remembered what Corvix¡¯ were, raven-like creatures with eyes on their wings instead of heads. They were common enough birds around Stradale but he hadn¡¯t guessed that they were also used to send messages.

    ¡°We¡¯ll need a way to keep them from knowing we¡¯ve revolted.¡± Selvas replied, then continued with hard eyes on Nero. ¡°During some long hunts I¡¯ve come across rebel towns, the Circle makes an example out of everyone, man, woman, child, anything that so much as breathed will be made into a reminder of why we humans are better off licking Demon boots. And those are the ones that failed, we actually somehow pulled it off.¡±

    Nero didn¡¯t know what to do with those purple eyes on him, so he averted his gaze and looked at Cain. Her gaze, expectedly, was even less comforting, but it had something incubating behind it. An idea.

    She gave it voice soon enough. ¡°I can forge the Chieftain¡¯s signature, write letters to tell them everything¡¯s going well.¡±

    ¡°And that¡¯ll keep us safe?¡± Nero asked, hopeful.

    ¡°Not for long.¡± Cain answered, trampling over his hope with as much grace as a speeding truck. ¡°Sooner or later, they¡¯ll send someone over and there¡¯s little we can do to keep up the charade then.¡±

    ¡°How long do we have?¡± Nero asked, killing hope and thrusting himself fully into the arms of reality.

    ¡°A couple of weeks, a month at best.¡± Cain shrugged, though from her, the gesture seemed impossibly grim somehow. Like an oracle resigning their people to damnation.

    ¡°Two weeks.¡± Nero hissed. ¡°That¡¯s not great.¡± What could they possibly do in two weeks? Weeks ago, Nero had paid attention to the guards, gangers. hunters, labourers, fighters and any other profession who had a disproportionate amount of Might and more to find that Stradale had about a hundred Mighty. With the guards and with the number of hunters killed, Stradale had significantly less Mighty men left, and many of those that remained would still be recovering from their wounds.

    Nero tugged at his mind for answers, looking at the problem from every which way it came and could find none that truly seemed to withstand much testing. They could stand their ground and prepare but something told him Stradale could not repel what the Demons were ready to throw at a town which killed one of their own.

    Only one thing seemed to hold even a sliver of a chance against the tide of fuck that was heading their way. ¡°We can ask for help, yes?¡± Surely there were other towns and people who were free, who would support their cause and help them fend off an assault.

    Selvas¡¯ eyes narrowed in on him and he felt like she was looking at him from another angle. There was a mix of fascination, stupefaction and plain curiosity in that gaze. ¡°You really are from another world aren¡¯t you.¡±

    Cain chose a blunter approach. ¡°No one is going to help us.¡± She said, then drummed a finger against her chair. ¡°But there¡¯s quite a few idiots who are just desperate enough to die for our cause.¡±

    Selvas hummed in agreement. ¡°A good number of hunters will come over for the right price.¡±

    Cain shook her head as if wrestling between thoughts. ¡°That¡¯ll help, but if you want to withstand a Circle force, you¡¯ll need heavier hitters than a bunch of desperate hunters.¡±

    Selvas¡¯s face scrunched up in thought for a half moment. ¡°The Death Rattle crew could help.¡±

    Cain began a snicker then caught herself mid way. ¡°Oh, shit you¡¯re serious.¡±

    Nero didn¡¯t appreciate being lost. ¡°Who are the Death Rattle?¡±

    ¡°A small group of bandits, thieves and all around the worst people you may have the pleasure of meeting.¡± Cain helpfully informed him. ¡°Each one of them can easily take on a Crimson, but they¡¯ll cost a lot to even convince to help us, and that¡¯s if they don¡¯t decide to turn us in for a better price instead.¡±

    Crimsons¡­ That brought memories of Nero being tortured by a man in blood-red armor.

    ¡°We don¡¯t have much of a choice.¡± Selvas pointed out matter of factly.

    Cain bit her teeth. ¡°I suppose we don¡¯t.¡± She sighed. The woman often had a look to her, like she hoped to god her next fight would be her last and was disappointed that the previous one wasn¡¯t. She was strong, stronger than him even, and yet she always seemed so, so tired. ¡°Where did you hear they were last?¡± Cain asked.

    ¡°Dolore.¡± She said, looked at Nero and then elaborated. ¡°A city maybe a week or two from here.¡± She explained.

    Cain winced as if she¡¯d just gotten even more bad news. Her next words were heavy for a reason Nero could not place. ¡°Well, just try not to draw attention to yourselves.¡±

    Cain wouldn¡¯t be coming, she had to deal with forging signatures and letters.

    Much of the rest of the conversation was a matter of logistics. It wasn¡¯t all bad, the crystals they¡¯d be giving to their defenders wouldn¡¯t be coming from the hands of the people of Stradale. The Chieftain had a huge stash of riches that would be put to good use now.

    Still, it was money that could have been given to the people instead, now it would be used to keep their heads from sitting atop pikes.

    Nero was busy packing for the journey to Dolore when he felt something click behind him and the hinge of his door creak open.

    His hands were alight within moments, eyes turned on the target and mind filled with thoughts of violence and death.

    There was a huge man in front of him, powerful, terrifying, but today, tonight, Selvas¡¯ father was no threat. He had a runed bandage wrapped around his head but all in all, he seemed to have come out of the fight with the Demon better than Nero had.

    ¡°Executioner.¡± Nero greeted and the light died in his palms.

    ¡°Just Alfie.¡± He corrected, eyes creasing with guilt, and Nero felt a fool for calling him that.

    ¡°Of course.¡± He corrected. ¡°Alfie.¡± He nodded. Somehow the man looked different without the shackles around him. Taller for one, brighter, but somehow more feeble? Nero couldn¡¯t imagine the thoughts that were going through his head, the things he had done at the whims of that monster. He was thankful he couldn¡¯t.

    ¡°I¡¯d like to say thank you.¡±

    It was an expected reply, one that Nero had been hearing quite a lot since he¡¯d killed the Demon that wreaked havoc upon their town. People looked at him with bright eyes and an adoring smile, as if he was some sort of hero.

    Normally, he¡¯d roll with it, not just because it made things easier for the people to see what they wanted to see but because much value could come from being viewed as a demigod. And Nero was an expert in looking out for himself.

    This time however, when talking to a man who¡¯d been made into a weapon of destruction for the monster he¡¯d killed, Nero chose honesty.

    ¡°I appreciate it, but really, I think everything I did, I did for Selvas.¡± Nero told him.

    ¡°I know.¡± Alfie said with a warm smile. ¡°And I¡¯m thanking you for that.¡±

    Nero opened his mouth, shut it, then nodded.

    He watched Alfie leave the room on heavy legs, turned and finished up his packing.

    He¡¯d survived Stradale, but now he had the rest of Limbo waiting for him.

 Chapter 28: Calamity For The Finite.

    Chapter 28: Calamity For The Finite.

    The Face Eater had been the most fearsome monster Nero had ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with in all of Hell. It sunk fear into his gut like the talons of a vulture and merely the thought of it still made his heart drop and his stomach sink.

    He¡¯d let himself think, at least for while, that creature would be the greatest animal that Nero would ever be faced with in Hell.

    He had not even considered the beast that was the absolute banality of travel.

    ¡°Ughhhh.¡± He groaned and Selvas glared at him from her mount, as if daring him to say something.

    ¡°It¡¯s only been a week, shut up.¡± She told him, cold, stern.

    ¡°A week is fucking insane.¡± He explained. They were riding fresteeds, a mount that was unique to hell and quite appropriate for travel. Appropriate enough that their weeks-long journey had become only one. How nice of the former Chieftain to leave two lying around in death then.

    It was shaped like a horse, which allowed Nero to adjust to riding the thing quickly as he¡¯d taken horse riding lessons back on earth. But it was different in its own ways too, its face was long, like that of an anteater, black horns protruded from its head and it had a forked tongue like that of a serpent.

    ¡°My father used to tell me stories of how you rode flying metal contraptions across the oceans.¡± Selvas said and he could see her try to imagine how being forced to travel by animal would measure in comparison to that.

    She looked at him differently now that his identity as the Light Breather was known and Nero couldn¡¯t decide if it was a good or a bad thing. ¡°Planes, yes, we could get from anywhere on the planet to another within a day.¡±

    Selvas nodded, intrigued, curiosity certainly piqued. ¡°Yes, I¡¯ve looked into the engineering of that in my spare time, from the way it¡¯s described, my guess is you''d need a constant propellant.¡± Selvas said.

    Ember looked puzzled as they spoke, like they might as well be using a different language.

    ¡°I was never particularly knowledgeable in aerodynamics but I believe it¡¯s all in the wings.¡± Nero frowned, trying to recall half remembered books and assimilate them into how he might go about working a plane intuitively. ¡°Air moves faster above the wings than below, that creates pressure which forces it upward.¡±

    ¡°Why would air do that?¡± Selvas asked, eyes narrowing as if demanding an answer from the wind itself.

    Nero found himself without many answers as well. He shrugged. ¡°Sadly, not my field.¡± He really did wish he could help, Selvas had a mind on her, she would have definitely been an engineering phenom were she born on earth and not in damnation.

    ¡°What did you do in the physical world?¡± Selvas asked, and the question was like a gut punch.

    Lie, steal, deceive, manipulate, kill.

    He couldn¡¯t tell her the truth, but he¡¯d resolved not to lie to Selvas. ¡° I¡¯d rather not talk about it.¡± He said, words perhaps sharper than he would have preferred.

    Selvas nodded, looked at Nero as if waiting to see if he might continue with more conversation and nudged her fresteed ahead when he didn¡¯t. It made a soft hissing sound, then obeyed.

    Nero watched her go all while feeling a fool.

    They hadn¡¯t spoken- well, spoken properly- since she kissed him on the cheek..

    Since then it had all been fights to the death, a crazy Demon, and now protecting Stradale from an invasion. It made sense then that her priorities were elsewhere, but for a moment there, she¡¯d actually began to engage him, for a moment there it felt like they were off for just another hunt. And then he¡¯d shut it all down by proving that he had even more secrets to keep.

    ¡°Wow Nero, you¡¯re really bad with girls.¡± Ember chimed, in, circling his head like an annoying fly.

    ¡°Other people can see you now, can¡¯t you go bother them instead?¡± Nero rolled his eyes and stifled the grin that threatened to sprout at seeing Ember filled with light again.

    ¡°Well, the only other person I could bother here is Selvas, and I actually like her.¡± She explained cheerfully.

    He chuckled at that and set his eyes back on the woman. ¡°I guess you and I have that in common.¡±

    He ran his hand along the fresteed¡¯s neck, the creatures didn¡¯t have hair like horses but scales, pitch black like night and hard like rock. It felt oddly disconcerting to be on one, so similar to something he was familiar too, yet so impossibly different as well.

    Nero looked up into the purple skies above.

    What even was this place? Hell, yes, but no hell that he was familiar with. It was a mirrored reflection of everything he knew about earth, in the place of lakes of sulphur and brimstone was a society, one twisted indescribably by Demons and monsters, but one that felt just real enough for its failings to be all that more crushing.

    Perhaps it was the only Hell for someone like him, what better way to punish someone who trampled on the weak in society like they were dirt, than to make him the dirt itself?

    And yet he was given power in it, power that he did not deserve, power that set him right amid a conflict between man and monster.

    Perhaps that was Hell¡¯s punishment to them.

    Nero idly thumbed the sheathe by his side, he was still getting used to the weight. Within it was Cain''s sword, she¡¯d given it to him right before they¡¯d left, said something about how it was forged by a runesmith in Miluina and that if he didn¡¯t take care of it do something unholy to his testicles when he returned.

    Nero had no intention of testing the woman, because, frankly, she scared him. She scared him before it was common knowledge that he was the Light Breather, and now it felt like every moment with her was one he had to endure with a noose fastened around his neck.

    She looked at him like she was deciding whether to let him walk off or impale him through the heart right then and there, and she would not hesitate at either action.

    Speaking of Cain.

    A memory exploded into his mind.

    He nudged his fresteed forwards and the creature galloped all the way to Selvas and stopped beside the woman at a gentle nudge on the reins.

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    ¡°Why did Cain look concerned when you mentioned Dolore?¡± Nero asked. He liked to leave most things Cain untouched as the woman probably had secrets she would kill to protect, and Nero had no business finding out which those were. However, this time, he was heading straight for the mystery in question.

    Selvas turned to meet his eyes upon his question. If there was any annoyance lingering from their previous interaction then she didn¡¯t let it show. ¡°Dolore is the capital city of this region-¡±

    ¡°This Circle of Hell?¡± Nero asked and Selvas shook her head.

    ¡°No.¡± She shook her head. ¡°Just this particular region of Tayalnisyan.¡±

    ¡°Wait, how large is Tayalnisyan?¡± He asked, he really should have requested a map or something.

    Selvas shrugged. ¡°Size, I can¡¯t say, the maps get less and less detailed the further away from Dolore you get. We¡¯re currently in the Tattered lands, across the sea of supplizio are the Lands of Burden. It gets less and less clear after that, some maps contradict each other, others simply make little sense.¡±

    Nero nodded. It made sense, he was practically asking a mediaeval human details about details about places that are worlds away.

    This was not the first question about Hell that he¡¯d poked and prodded Selvas about, and it certainly would not be the last. He¡¯d wanted to understand how it was ruled, its politics and the true vastness of it across its various circles.

    He¡¯d gotten answers about many of them, but more answers than he¡¯d have preferred only ended up blooming into new questions.

    All of Hell was ruled by the The Three Faced Monarch Rex Infernus. A Demon King who resided within the ninth circle of Damnation. His instrument of rule was the Circle, a governing body of Demons that maintained the status quo across levels, each village, town, and city was required by law to pay taxes to them. But they were rarely actually present, and much of the ruling affairs were dealt with by the cities in the region.

    Selvas had recalled seeing an agent of the Circle once in her lifetime, and it was in the aftermath of a squashed rebellion.

    The images she described made him sick to recollect.

    Mercury, he knew, would be another agent of the circle.

    He still hadn¡¯t talked about exactly how he got to Stradale with anyone yet. There was the guilt of the decisions he made that left him refusing to visit that memory, and attached to it was the recollection of just how helpless he had been.

    In terms of details about the circles of Hell itself, Nero got very little. Selvas told him she¡¯d never been beyond Limbo, and if anyone had it would be Cain. What she did know was that the defining features of cities were their Hell Gates, portals which could be used to descend from one circle to the next if a person was carrying one of the required summoning items on them.

    A common summoning item to pass through the Hell Gates that bordered Tayalnisyan and Luxuria was the heart of a Hollow. Ember had told him that it was an incredibly resilient and near-unstoppable, utterly terrifying beast that they¡¯d be better off not facing.

    At the revelation Nero suddenly found himself a little upset.

    He didn¡¯t know why, Nero had no intention of venturing that deep, not just because the thought of leaving Stradale when it was the only home he knew here terrified him, but because he¡¯d also been told that the further down one journeys through the circles, the worse things became for them.

    A soft tap on the ribs, where the Face Eater had hit him, reminded Nero that things were in fact bad enough. Still, that meant what he was dealing with was a vast empire with tendrils larger than he could even begin to imagine. He was gaining more and more information, but they¡¯d always have the upperhand, and if Mercury ever got wind of a Light Breather saving a town, then his life was ove-

    ¡°You were asking about Dolore.¡± Selvas cut in.

    Nero winced. ¡°Ah, yes, sorry, I spaced out.¡±

    ¡°You do that a lot.¡± She replied calmly. ¡°At least now I know why.¡±

    Nero smiled. ¡°So, yes, why was Cain weary?¡±

    ¡°Like I said, it¡¯s a major city of the Tattered lands, home to thirty thousand people, that¡¯s about sixty times the size of Stradale, which means this is where high profile criminals who break the law are sentenced.¡± Selvas began. ¡°In order to hold them, they created a prison, we know it as the Seal. No one gets out and no one gets in.¡± She explained. ¡°That means high surveillance across the city, it also means if we get caught trying to recruit a group of outlaws to help us fight against the Circle then we¡¯re being shoved in a hole and never seeing daylight.¡±

    ¡°That would not be very nice.¡± Ember noted.

    ¡°No, no it would not.¡± The woman replied.

    Nero felt himself gripping the reigns of his mount tighter, his stomach churned and he suddenly felt queasy.

    ¡°That means you should find a way to hide yourself.¡± He said, pointedly looking at Ember. They¡¯d tried to see if she could hide from other people and only show herself to him, but that didn¡¯t work. It would have been too convenient and Hell probably had a policy against that or something.

    ¡°An Imp won¡¯t attract too much attention, they¡¯re often seen soul forged to a magic user, Ember could probably pass as a Fire Imp but it¡¯s better to be safe than sorry.¡± Selvas said.

    Nero considered asking her to elaborate on that but decided that they had more important things to focus on. ¡°You¡¯ll hide in my clothes.¡± He told Ember.

    ¡°But it¡¯s smelly and stuffy down there.¡± Ember whined.

    Nero frowned. ¡°Can you even smell or feel heat?¡±

    ¡°I can pretend to!¡± She shot back and zipped away as a streak of golden light in a tantrum.

    Nero sighed and Selvas snorted.

    ¡°You¡¯re terrible with children.¡± She noted.

    ¡°Thankfully it¡¯s just children.¡± He sighed

    The rest of the trek continued with few events in-between. Like always they ate what they hunted, and Nero noted that he had gotten so used to Hell cuisine that he was barely tasting the pungent sulphur that lurked within its fauna.

    Soon enough they could see Dolore, its tallest peaks emerged from the landscape like a great beast, reaching angrily for the purple skies and sister moons.

    As they ventured closer, they saw more and more of the city, it was surrounded by a wall that practically drank light, so black in colour that it seemed to to be made of ink solidified.

    Very few buildings rose above those walls, very few save from one tower, it too was wreathed in the same darkness that the walls were.

    Selvas identified that as the Seal and Nero made a mental note not to even so much as breathe near anything that might send him there.

    And then he remembered that the entire purpose of his meeting here was to employ incredibly famous outlaws to help him stage a rebellion against the ruling class of this world.

    Well, fuck me.

    At the base of the city was a long line of men, a thousand and a half maybe. some on fresteeds, most on foot. They all spilled out in a long line, like a colony of ants in search of food.

    As they got closer, Nero¡¯s blood grew colder and colder. White armour. Not all of them wore it, but many did, perhaps forty to sixty, most were not, but many, far too many, looked like the bastards who¡¯d slaughtered the inquisition.

    And then there were the ones in red armor, five in number, and all sat atop pitch black fresteeds. Crimsons. Hand-picked, hand-trained human Mighty whose title was synonymous with the Demons¡¯s authority.

    Nero¡¯s mind was moving out of step with his heart. Every single fibre of him wanted to flee, wanted to grab onto the reins and dash into the trees.

    But I have to know.

    Nero urged his steed forwards and raced through the cursed lands of Damnation. The hot wind blew on his face, roaring behind his ears like a wailing beast, and yet¡­ and yet it was not even half as loud as the beating of his heart.

    Selvas shouted after him, then so did Ember, he ignored them both.

    He stopped once he was in front of the army, at a distance where he could now see the hue in the eyes of what were once tiny men.

    The unarmored soldiers-because that was who he approached, not the men in plate- were immediately on high alert at the sudden appearance of a stranger.

    They probably thought him an enemy, or a danger of sorts. Nero was all those things, but above all else, he was a liar.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell me there¡¯s another war.¡± He wore his panic out in the open and let his words obscure the source

    The men eased at his words, no more twitchy fingers on sheathed weapons. Nero noticed that their weapons lacked the runes that had become rather characteristic of Hell¡¯s Mighty. In fact they carried shabby quilts and rusted armor.

    Perhaps they were not Mighty, but common serfs levied into battle. It made sense, an average Mighty was as fit as a human could be in all things a human could possibly be fit at, and yet if you throw even just twenty regular men at them they¡¯d be swarmed and killed.

    One snorted. ¡°Don¡¯t worry about it friend, we¡¯re all coming back home after this is done.¡±

    Nero half chuckled. ¡°What do you mean?¡±

    ¡°Some idiot town.¡± The first man said laughing. ¡°Decided to stage a rebellion, always a quick battle when that happens.¡±

    Well, shit, shit, shit, shit, shit, shitty, shit, shit.

    Nero smiled pleasantly.

    ¡°Well good luck then.¡± He said, and rode away.

    It was then that Selvas caught up with him, purple eyes burning with a cocktail of confusion, rage and concern. ¡°What the fuck was that?¡± She demanded.

    ¡°Nothing good,¡± Nero replied, voice sounding as hollow as a rotten tree. ¡°Nothing good at all.¡±

 Chapter 29: An Arrival That Spells Doom.

    Chapter 29: An Arrival That Spells Doom.

    Alfie was an engineer, a dead man, a thrall, an executioner and now¡­ Well now what was he?

    Gathering wood in the Dark Forest.

    Stradale would need a wall for when the invasion came, and a robust one at that. Much of his days since Selvas had left was focused on him travelling between Stradale and the Dark Forest to bring something sturdy enough for fortifications.

    He¡¯d considered making cement but that would take time and he wasn¡¯t exactly sure enough as to the rudimentary process of making it that he would be confident attempting it on Hell¡¯s soil.

    That was the thing with Hell that bothered him, it wasn¡¯t the Demons, the shackles, the torture- No, actually it was almost exclusively all those things.

    But something else also mildly annoyed him, and it was the rules of the world.

    It all felt well¡­ for lack of a better term runny around the edges.

    In his earlier days as a thrall, when he wanted to do anything to earn him his freedom, he¡¯d built really impressive bows for the guardsmen to be outfitted in, thinking that¡¯d impress the Demon enough to break his shackles.

    It didn¡¯t, but what more he¡¯d noticed was that no matter what he did, the aim and power of his bow was just a bit wrong.

    It was better than anything else he¡¯d seen, yes, but still, it was wrong, far too wrong for someone with a brain that worked like his to ignore and it largely remained so despite his numerous attempts at fixing it. The draws were inconsistent, physical properties of their materials seeming to defy all the rules he¡¯d learned for predicting such things.

    Then to confound matters, he noticed that his aim got better the more he wanted it to.

    It would have been fascinating had his freedom not been on the line for it.

    The Chieftain didn¡¯t end up adding the weapons to his arsenal, for fear that it might be used to overthrow him if given to the people.

    Ironic that.

    The event had birthed an idle curiosity in Alfie, and when he was not doing the monster¡¯s bidding, he¡¯d find some time to run little experiments using whatever he could gather from the surrounding region.

    It calmed him, brought back memories of home. He would close his eyes and imagine he was back at the university in Liverpool, teaching, fascinating his students and going on rants about the universe and its laws.

    He wondered what they¡¯d say about this world, physics here were odd, but the chemical reactions were the most unpredictable, they behaved like they had a mind of their own, which to anyone who knew chemistry would be a horrifying realization.

    All in all, that meant he¡¯d have to rely on simple things, like wood as fortifications.

    The walk back to Stradale was peaceful, and it allowed Alfie to appreciate the progress they¡¯d made so far. The entire town was circled with great wooden pillars, brown with spots of yellow across their surfaces. Cain had been the one to demand he get specifically this kind of wood and he hadn¡¯t questioned it, just as she hadn¡¯t questioned him when he made alterations to the town¡¯s bows and crossbows.

    He had asked why they didn¡¯t have the town runesmith rune the walls and she had told him it was too large a surface area for the runesmith to work. As far as he understood runes, and he barely did, they were patterns which when carved by certain individuals applied effects to objects.

    Much of the runed weaponry in Stradale was made by the town runesmith, he crafted bows just that much more powerful and blades a little sharper. Aflie¡¯s axe was the exception to that, not runed in Stradale but allegedly in the second circle.

    How a symbol could have an effect on the material properties of an object was something he couldn¡¯t begin to guess as to why, but neither could he figure out why he had enough strength to lift a car here, and he barely questioned that.

    You take the few good things this place gives you I guess.

    Previously, those had been far too little, now however, he was free. He looked at the scar burned into his once-shackled wrist. A permanent reminder of what once was.

    What he¡¯d never let come to be again.

    Poor Selvas and Luca, forced to grow up with a father in chains.

    Luca, conscripted to fight in Luxuria.

    Poor Emily, their mother, died giving birth.

    The Demon couldn¡¯t care to spend the time and resources to save her once his slave girl had given him children infused with Might. As far as he was concerned, she was useless to him now.

    He¡¯d had other children too, the Mightless ones were killed by the Chieftain as he didn¡¯t want ¡®waste¡¯ eating up Stradale¡¯s resources, the Mighty ones were sold off before they could so much as walk.

    The rage bubbled and twisted in his gut, he wished the bastard was alive so he could kill him himself, instead he¡¯d settled for shitting and pissing on the animal¡¯s grave.

    Alfie would never forget any of it, everything he¡¯d done, everything he¡¯d made him do.

    In the end however, perhaps he wished that he¡¯d never lived the kind of life that brought him here in the first place.

    He stepped into Stradale to find the town¡¯s people parting at the sight of him. He didn¡¯t meet their eyes, but from the corner of his he could see theirs. They looked at him like he was some raging bull let loose upon them, all of them silent, as if waiting for some maddened frenzy and eager to look the least deserving of mauling.

    Alfie wasn¡¯t a bull, he wasn¡¯t foaming at the mouth with eyes of red and snorts of death. He was a man, a man who had once been their executioner, a man who¡¯d killed a loved one of at least one of the men and women here, brothers, daughters, fathers, mothers and even children, gone by his hand.

    There was hate in the atmosphere here, like thin lines wisping in the air, cowering behind their fear and terror, but there all the same, lurking, always lurking.

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    It wasn¡¯t fair.

    But Alfie couldn¡¯t blame them.

    Perhaps the people would come around to accept him, or perhaps he¡¯d never find a place in this town, either way he had more urgent things to see to.

    Alfie dropped the wood by the worker¡¯s station and made his way to the Chieftain¡¯s home. Well it was Gunther¡¯s office now, at least a particular room within it was, most of it was being used to shelter and feed the homeless of Stradale.

    That was Gunther¡¯s idea, the town had seemed to instantly defer to him at the death of the Chieftain, and no one seemed to complain. Not even him.

    Alfie found Gunther and Cain in the office, both looking over a document with glee in their eyes. Alfie smiled ever so slightly. Good news, he liked good news. ¡°What is it?¡±

    ¡°The Circle replied.¡± Gunther grinned.

    ¡°The hornheads bought it.¡± Cain snorted, lips actually twisting to create the impression of a smile. Odd that, he hadn¡¯t thought it possible.

    ¡°Good, this is good.¡± Alfie sighed. They weren¡¯t nearly done fortifying the town and while they¡¯d hired a good amount of hunters and mercenaries to come help they weren¡¯t where they needed to be right now in terms of manpower. More time would allow them to fix that.

    Alfie breathed in the peace that washed over him, he embraced in the tension that let loose. All they needed now was for the Death Rattle crew to arrive and they just might stand a chance at whatever the Circle threw at them.

    There was a commotion outside.

    Gunther was first to the door but before he could open it, a loud banging came from the other side.

    Cain grabbed the handle of her blade, Alfie grabbed his axe and Gunther grabbed the doorknob.

    He twisted it and a panting, sweating, panicked man stood at the other side. A guard of Stradale, not one of the old ones, those were all dead, but the new ones made out of hunters and citizens.

    ¡°What is it?¡± Gunther urged.

    ¡°Demon, there¡¯s a Demon outside the walls!¡± He sputtered.

    A coldness wrapped around Alfie at those words, one that made his stomach turn and his head spin. A Demon.

    Gunther was paler than a Soul Taker, and of the three of them, it was Cain who gathered her composure first and stepped out into action.

    ¡°I¡¯ll see to them.¡± She announced, and made her way out.

    Alfie followed, as did many other of the townspeople. Along with them came fearful chattering, muttering and panicked whispers. Alfie hadn¡¯t even seen more than one Demon in his life and now they were about to meet another.

    They reached the gates, a large wooden structure, and it was cranked open, creaking and groaning to reveal what lay beyond.

    Outside sat a creature atop a fresteed, scaly skin, red, serpentine eyes, horned and wearing sickly blue skin. Behind it was a small force, but a terribly powerful one regardless.

    Twenty one in all, all on mounts, they sat behind the Demon in white armor and visored helms. Grays. Alfie had heard stories of them, all human, but without a shred of loyalty to humanity. They were city guards, most of a City Lord¡¯s killing was often never done by their own hands, but by the works of city guards who always seemed eager to do the dark deeds of such creatures.

    One however had red armor, a Crimson. An elite City guard and ranking above Grays in command, Might and and a penchant of violence.

    Many believed the nature of their plate was simply due to being soaked in the blood of their victims.

    ¡°Quite a lovely day isn¡¯t it?¡± The Demon said, a bright grin sprouted along his lips to reveal rows of sharp teeth. Like a shark but with the dangerous intellect of a man. And, come to think of it, more physical danger than an actual fucking shark, because Hell was just such a lovely place.

    It took a single step forwards and the crowd shrank several back.

    Eyes fell on Gunther to speak but the poor man looked just as lost as everyone else. It was a Demon, a Demon with a score of Grays behind him.

    ¡°It is, my Lord.¡± A calm voice stepped through the panic. It was Cain¡¯s of course, the woman seemed perfectly at ease in the presence of these creatures.

    It set its serpentine eyes on her and hummed. ¡°Allow me to introduce myself, I am Warden Mercury, an agent the Circle.¡± He said. ¡°I¡¯d like to speak with your Chieftain.¡±

    ¡°He¡¯s gone travelling.¡± She answered. It was a simple lie, but one that explained a lot. Why the people walked around freely, why there weren¡¯t any thralls around, and so on. What made it even better was the fact that Cain didn¡¯t even show a sliver of doubt in telling it.

    The people were still panicked, terrified of retribution for the murder of a Chieftain, but panicked people at the sight of a Demon wasn¡¯t anything new, they¡¯d look just as terrified at the sight of him snooping around even if the Chieftain were alive and well.

    Cain hadn¡¯t made any misstep.

    Which was why what Mercury said next surprised Alfie deeply.

    ¡°As I suspected, he¡¯s dead.¡± The creature bowed his head as if in mock solemnity. ¡°A rebel town not too far from where I thought I¡¯d prevented the summoning of the Light Breather, what a funny coincidence.¡±

    The crowd shrank back further, the muttering behind him became more and more panicked.

    Alfie¡¯s heart hung in his throat, he was suddenly aware of the sound of it beating, his breathing, the rushing of hot blood through his veins.

    Cain wasn¡¯t immune to the effects of the revelation, he saw the lines of strain in her forehead and the way her hand twitched towards her sheathed blade. She¡¯d lose against a Demon surely, yes. Yes?

    While her and Nero were fighting the Chieftain she was mounting a rebellion with other Mighty citizens. Those two things weren¡¯t directly measurable against each other, so Alfie wasn¡¯t exactly sure just how powerful this woman was.

    A good, enslaved, distrusting part of him believed she¡¯d kept it that way on purpose.

    ¡°Where is the Light Breather?¡± It asked.

    Cain gave the monster a glare. ¡°I don¡¯t know, I don¡¯t believe in imp tales.¡±

    A tendril sprouted out from the Demon¡¯s back and whipped outwards like lightning. Alfie could barely follow it, but when it had stopped moving, he saw it wrapped around a woman¡¯s throat and lifting her up in the air.

    She panicked, screamed and clawed at it, all to no avail. He was choking her, killing her. A teenaged boy, perhaps her son ran at her, but someone grabbed and stopped him even as he screamed for his mother.

    ¡°Where is your God of Hell?¡± The Demon asked again. She was sputtering now, eyes bulging, fingers clawing uselessly against supernatural flesh.

    ¡°Tell him!¡± A man roared, voice cracked and hoarse. Her husband perhaps. ¡°Tell him please!¡± They hadn¡¯t told the public about what their plan was, Cain had insisted on it. Did she see this coming?

    Cain didn¡¯t even glance at the dying woman, nor her husband, not when she was kicking, and not when she stopped either. She was dead. Her husband was on his knees, sobbing. Alfie didn¡¯t even know her name, Selvas would have.

    Cain gestured to her neck. ¡°You can do me next.¡± She told the Demon.

    Mercury chuckled, clearly finding something about the entire ordeal funny. Alfie couldn¡¯t guess what for the life of him.

    ¡°Let¡¯s see.¡± He huffed like an athlete might while preparing for a run. ¡°You¡¯re willing to sacrifice someone to keep this information secret and you¡¯re reinforcing your town in preparation for the Circle¡¯s retribution.¡± He tapped at his knee. ¡°Hmm, your Light Breather is somewhere important, doing something important and you¡¯d rather I not get to him before he can do it. Now correct me if I¡¯m wrong but- who am I kidding, you wouldn¡¯t and I¡¯m not- he¡¯s in Dolore, attempting to recruit a fighting force. Crafty bastards, you.¡± He hummed at them, as if impressed by a dog¡¯s tricks.

    Alfie grinded his teeth. So this was a Warden.

    He¡¯d seen a powerful Demon, that was the Chieftain, all Might and terror, but he never had a mind on him that even for a second dared to threaten Alfie.

    This one though, this one was a whole other matter. This was intellect, raw and sharp, a reptile with the mind of a man. Just looking at it made his skin crawl.

    Cain wasn¡¯t immune, he saw the subtle shift in the woman¡¯s expression. Even she wasn¡¯t expecting to be seen through like that. He hadn¡¯t known when her unflappability had begun to comfort him, but the absence of it certainly had the opposite effect now.

    ¡°You will hold this town until I get back, send a corvix to Dolore requesting men.¡± Mercury said, and it took Alfie a moment to realise he was regarding the City Guards behind him. ¡°I have a Light Breather to kill.¡±

    The armored men began stepping forwards, and Alfie tightened his grip on his blade. It seemed this was going to end as a fight. He had very few delusions about coming out of it alive, but he¡¯d ensure they¡¯d make his heart stop beating before a single sabaton stepped on Stradale soil.

    The anticipation built up in him, coiling, coiling and waiting angrily for Cain to give the signal.

    And then, she spoke.

    ¡°Of course.¡± She said.

    What?

    ¡°Come in.¡± She added.

    Mercury smiled, pleased, and the armored men rode into the town, Crimson first.

    The visored killers were roaring orders soon enough and the people of the town, shaking with terror, were answering them.

    Just like that, Stradale was once more, under Demon rule.

 Chapter 30: The Depths of Man Slumber in Cities.

    Chapter 30: The Depths of Man Slumber in Cities.

    Dolore was a city burdened and its burden was people.

    Nero had grown up in cities and yet he¡¯d never encountered one as overpopulated as this one. It wasn¡¯t that the population here was that much larger than it was back on earth, Stradale had maybe six hundred people tops, and Dolore would have been perhaps fifty times more populated at most,, it was just the lack of infrastructure and space on display. He supposed those were just perks of modernity he¡¯d taken for granted.

    Well, at least our right of travel gained us entry.

    Nero was worried that the rebellion might make it invalid, and while it technically did, that didn¡¯t matter when the people looking at it couldn¡¯t read and judged its authenticity purely based on the banner

    He and Selvas were lucky in that they had fresteeds to make the travel easier for them, as people parted ways at the sight of several thousand pounds of muscle and sinew heading their way.

    It still didn¡¯t give them much room to manoeuvre, and it didn¡¯t save them from the deafening ocean of sounds that were the chattering, bartering and haggling of Dolore¡¯s people.

    It didn¡¯t save him from the smell either, god the smell. It was an assortment of scents, all pungent and revolting. He¡¯d gotten used to the smell of Stradale, so much so that he barely even noticed it now, so the fact that Dolore had this effect on him was a testament in of itself.

    He almost thought that the Demon who ran this place ensured poor sanitation as a law in order to spite him. It was more likely due to negligence and apathy for the people who lived in the place, but Nero liked to imagine it was about him. It was less depressing that way and he was narcissistic like that.

    Selvas didn¡¯t seem to be faring any better, nose wrinkled and face tight. It appeared that she as well was not used to the atmosphere of cities. ¡°To think my Father was summoned here.¡±

    She¡¯d explained during the journey that Hell Gates were used not just for inhabitants of the Inferno to travel between circles, but to bring forth the Damned, it was with thralls that they strengthened their work force and made quite a good amount of crystals by selling them off to the surrounding towns.

    It made Nero sick to imagine it, waking up scared and confused as he did, but instead of the friendly faces and hopeful eyes he saw, they were instead met with shackles and a life of cruel servitude.

    Around him he saw a pair of shackle-bound thralls, searched for the Demon under their control but found none, instead what he saw was a fat man in bright furs.

    Nero¡¯s gut stirred with revulsion at the sight, he hadn¡¯t even thought that other humans would enslave their kind as well.

    Why? It¡¯s not like it didn¡¯t happen back on earth.

    In fact, slavery was still a thing in the modern period, moreso than any other. People just looked the other way because it wasn¡¯t happening right in front of them. He¡¯d worked hard to keep them looking the other way in fact.

    He focused his eyes elsewhere in the crowd and saw something curious, an individual dressed in robes sat upon a fresteed. By his shoulder was a tiny green light that Nero thought might be an imp.

    So those were other soul forged.

    Cain had told him Imps were weak demonic creatures, often living in the woods and out of sight of humans. He¡¯d asked if there had been any Imp that exhibited the traits that Ember did, the most pressing one being apparent memory loss and she¡¯d told him that it was a side effect of the slumber, something that happened to a lot of Imps when their human suddenly died.

    They woke up with a foggy mind and fleeting thoughts.

    That explained a lot, and made him feel that much worse for Ember.

    He¡¯d also asked about the Inquisition and she¡¯d told him they were insane zealots and declined to speak further on the issue.

    ¡°Hey why do some Magic users have Imps and others don¡¯t?¡± He asked, remembering the Lightning Caster he fought.

    Ember turned to look at him. ¡°Magic and Might are something most users are born with, soul forged are not, they make a soul pact with an Imp, and that allows them to use magic.¡±

    ¡°Oh, why don¡¯t more people do it then?¡± Nero asked.

    ¡°Well, because we aren¡¯t fucking mental.¡± Selvas snorted. ¡°To soul forge means to tie your soul to a Demon, even if it¡¯s an Imp, it¡¯s still a Demon, the Imp has to see something in you that they deeply resonate with or they¡¯ll eviscerate your soul rather than bond it.¡±

    Well, fuck, thanks for not destroying my soul, Ember.

    Still, that meant she saw something within him that made her choose him to forge. Nero put that thought aside. It was too big by far for now.

    ¡°Hey, this way.¡± Selvas called him out of his mind as she made a turn.

    Nero followed and they found themselves in front of what looked like an inn. He¡¯d stayed in a few during his hunting travels with Selvas and had come to recognise them now.

    ¡°Good place to ask around for news on the Death Rattle.¡± Selvas said as she slid down from her mount and rolled her neck.

    Nero got down as well. ¡°Good a start as any.¡± He agreed.

    They entered to find a bar buzzing with life. Every table was filled with men and women engrossed in conversation while serving girls and boys filled their table with mugs of ale and bread.

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    The pair split up and Nero moved to ease himself into conversation soon enough. Back on earth he was a smooth talker, in fact he was so good at it that his source of income was directly proportional to the people he¡¯d talked into fucking themselves over.

    Here, though, any conversation he tried to ease himself into had him met with odd glances and skeptical looks.

    It wasn¡¯t that he was bad at conversing, no. In fact people were often open to him when things started out, but the moment he¡¯d begun to steer the conversation into anything in which its legality was in question, Nero suddenly got hit with a dead end.

    At the end of the day, he met back up with Selvas in the hopes that perhaps she might have had better luck getting anything out of anyone. Much to his chagrin, she hadn¡¯t.

    ¡°They can probably tell I¡¯m not from around here.¡± She sighed.

    Accents.

    Yes, that had to be why. Even here it seemed city-folk weren¡¯t so fond of people from towns.

    ¡°I mean, there has to be someone who¡¯s willing to talk to people from Stradale.¡± Nero sighed and Selvas snickered, looking amused at something Nero had missed.

    ¡°What?¡± He asked.

    ¡°Nothing, it¡¯s just¡­ You say that like you think you sound like a Stradalian.¡± She noted.

    Ah. ¡°Wait, then who do I sound like?¡±

    ¡°Oh, like the Demons.¡±

    ¡°Wait, what?¡± He blinked and that seemed to amuse Selvas further.

    ¡°I assumed you grew up as one of their scribes or a particularly favoured servant boy.¡± She replied. ¡°Most people probably did as well, it¡¯s likely why the Chieftain and his guards took such a liking to you.¡±

    ¡°A liking?¡± Nero frowned. ¡°I certainly didn¡¯t feel liked.¡± He countered.

    Selvas rolled her eyes as if he were being incredibly stupid. ¡°The Chieftain addressed you personally and called you into his home.¡± She pointed out. ¡°I¡¯ve known him since I was a child and even I was rarely given that privilege.¡±

    ¡°Oh.¡± It seemed that was one more similarity this place had with reality. This is reality. He reminded himself, his reality at least. He was stuck here till the day he died and if he didn¡¯t act soon, that day would approach much sooner than later.

    Selvas sniffed, clearly still amused at the realization still on his face. ¡°We should go get somewhere to sleep.¡± She offered.

    ¡°We should.¡± Nero agreed, and they did.

    It was a small, dingy and stuffy place that seemed perhaps worse than even the cheapest of rooms in Stradale. And it cost more too.

    The joy of cities.

    It was not that they couldn¡¯t afford a better room, it was just that Selvas refused to spend more money than they needed to. There was a version of Nero who would have complained, but he¡¯d died somewhere between the Dark Forest and Stradale.

    It was early morning when Nero left the room, Selvas had long since given up any hope of finding aid amongst the city folk and was working on other ideas, but Nero was nothing if not impossibly stubborn.

    So he was out and about once more, this time alone in the streets of Dolore, save from the Imp hiding in his clothes. He felt more exposed than he¡¯d thought he would without Selvas and it occurred to him that since they¡¯d met he¡¯d rarely gone anywhere without her, and where he had he¡¯d always had Ember there to speak with.

    Both were out of reach now, Selvas in their room and Ember in his right pocket.

    A lot was changing for him in Hell and he didn¡¯t know how it¡¯d all end up. That was the most terrifying part, he was coming to think. Back on earth, there was a certain stability to his life, whether or not he had a good year or a bad year he was still going to keep his car, his house, his money and more.

    Now, everything was in a state of flux.

    Just like they were for the people I trampled upon.

    ¡°You spineless cretin!¡± A woman called out and Nero whipped his head around to fall upon a sight that made his gut twist.

    A man in plate armor the colour of blood loomed over a beaten old woman. She was perhaps the age of Cain but lacking even a sliver of the Might that kept the other woman so active. A gash leaked blood from her forehead, a bruise told where she¡¯d been hit across the face.

    Still, heaving and wincing, she glared up defiantly at the man and spat on his sabaton.

    Crimson Knights, that was what Selvas had called them. The elite human forces of the Demons. This one wasn¡¯t wearing a helmet, so Nero could see the fury in his eyes as he raised his foot and brought it down on the aged woman¡¯s knee with a sickening crunch, squelch and a throat-scarring scream from his victim.

    Nero turned away from the sight and walked in the other direction as fast as he could, eager to escape the cries of agony. They only seemed to grow louder however, a sign of the escalating torture that monster continued to inflict.

    He looked around to an unphased crowd. No¡­ not unphased, avoidant. They reflexively kept their eyes away from the scene, shrunk their stature to seem smaller and gave both the hunter and its prey a wide berth.

    He sighed, made his way from the scene and only when he couldn¡¯t hear it anymore did he try to focus on what he came here to do.

    Conversation about the Death Rattle Crew was still hard to lure out of people¡¯s mouths. Adults had no business speaking to outsiders, kids and teenagers, however, were his second bet and they were more willing to speak.

    As far as he could tell, the crew had an altercation with some Knights which had led to them being rather cagey about their whereabouts lately. It was incredibly unfortunate that this was happening now, when Nero specifically needed them, but one did not become a gang of outlaws without drawing some attention.

    He tried to get more concrete information than that, but anything else seemed to be well beyond what a teenager was allowed to know and an outsider told.

    Come on, why can¡¯t this be easy?

    He was getting frustrated now, every second he spent searching and not finding was putting Stradale at further risk. Stradale was ten days away on foot and they¡¯d already spent one of those days just looking for the damn crew, and would need to leave soon if they wanted to beat the approaching army to the town.

    He kept on asking, talking, speaking to anyone who would listen and latching onto any hint of information.

    Night had begun to fall again and Nero finally decided to call it quits.

    Alone in the darkening streets of Dolore, disappointed and defeated, Nero found himself wandering back to his room.

    ¡°Oi, I hear you¡¯re looking for the Death Rattle!¡± A man called and Nero turned to see him. He was blonde, green eyed and wore a scraggly beard that made him look half man and half wolf. There was a skittishness to him that instantly made Nero suspicious. But he was desperate and tired, so Nero nodded.

    ¡°It seems you hear correct things.¡± He replied.

    ¡°Good, come with me then.¡± He said and without another word, turned and walked away. He sounded like a local, that was a good sign at least.

    Nero followed but found himself struggling in doing so. Even in the evening, the streets were still crowded, less so, but enough to make walking a hassle.

    The man seemed to wade through the crowd like water, and if Nero didn¡¯t know any better he would have thought they were parting specifically to let him through.

    Nero, on the other hand, was bumping hard into shoulders and doing his best not to trip and fall. It was not a graceful display, but he managed to keep himself close enough to the stranger, that he could hear him when he spoke.

    ¡°If you¡¯re looking to hire the Rattle, then you¡¯ve got to be ready to pay up, they don¡¯t just hire anyone.¡± The man yelled at Nero, eyes ahead, not even bothering to look back.

    ¡°Yes, I have that covered!¡± He replied.

    The man either said nothing back or whatever he did was drowned out by the crowd.

    They emerged into an alleyway lacking in people, but compensating for that in suffocating walls that pressed at Nero from both sides.

    The man kept on walking, then stopped once Nero was half way in.

    He turned, and those green eyes dropped on Nero like anchor from a ship. In his hand was a runed shortsword and he gripped it with intent.

    Nero turned for the exit and saw another man approaching, this one bigger, and with a runed axe instead of a sword.

    His eyes fell back on the blonde and the man¡¯s face widened into a grin. ¡°Why don¡¯t you give us them crystals, and we¡¯ll help you deliver it to the Rattle Crew.¡±

 Chapter 31: Shadows of The Past.

    Chapter 31: Shadows of The Past.

    ¡°You keep your head down while speaking to me!¡± The Crimson Knight roared, and Alfie watched the woman he was speaking to cower away in terror.

    She had been asking for water for her son.

    She would get none now.

    The Knights had overrun the town, twenty one strong, yet each with the cruelty of a dozen men.

    Their takeover had been swift, as no one was willing to fight at the sight of Cain dropping her blade, and now the people of Stradale kept to the shadows once more for fear of what might happen if they were spotted by their cruel overlords.

    Alfie tried not to hate Cain, tried not to blame her for giving up on the fight, but found himself unable to resist. It was foolish and emotional to think so, he knew, if they had fought then Stradale would be burning right at this very moment and Mercury would be toying with their corpses.

    Still, it hurt to just give up.

    The Grays for their part simply lounged around. gorging on food and engaging in idiotic shows of strength in order to entertain each other.

    They were Knights, the chosen hand of Demon kind upon man. They had nothing to fear from peasants with pitchforks and torches.

    But they would have something to fear from Alfie.

    He too was hunched in the shadows. But Aflie wasn¡¯t cowering, he was hunting, hand wrapped tightly around his weapon. His executioner¡¯s axe, two handed, single edged and with a sharp toe at the top. Five Grays sat around an open fire, chattering away fondly about days past.

    Their plate was discarded, leaving them only in wool and a few even chose to take that off too.

    Trapped around one of their arms was a young woman. Mildred was her name, daughter of Jarrick. She had been picked from a crowd by the man who now held her to him and Alfie had no intentions of letting him see to his machinations with the girl.

    He had no intention of letting any of them see past this night even.

    I can take them by surprise.

    Alfie reassured himself.

    He¡¯d die right after killing them, he knew, but he¡¯d die fighting.

    His mind raced, his stomach churned and fear gripped his heart, but Alfie only gripped his axe harder in turn.

    I¡¯d rather die than be a slave again.

    He thought of Selvas, his little girl, what he wouldn¡¯t give for just one more conversation with her.

    And then he was charging towards the killers.

    He swung and rid one of their head before the fight had even started.

    With a roar he kicked another into the fire before he could get up and then the remaining three were grabbing at their weapons while Mildred fled in terror.

    One grabbed his hilt and died right after. Alfie pulled the blade out of his ruined skull too late to avoid being slashed in the side with a sword.

    The blade rang across the flesh over his ribs, turning Alfie¡¯s roar into a cry, and for a moment he found his knees weak.

    A second blade from another attacker came, but Aflie was already ducking back.

    It missed his face by an inch and Alfie closed the distance with a headbutt, crushing the man¡¯s face and crumpling him to the ground.

    He turned around, eyes on the man who¡¯d managed to strike him. There was terror in his eyes, surely he¡¯d expected his blade to cut deeper than it actually did.

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    He turned to run, but Aflie was upon him in moments, He was swinging his axe at the bastard when a blade blocked his path.

    A Crimson¡¯s blade, the wielder encased from head to toe in blood-red armor.

    His axe¡¯s edge slid against the enemy¡¯s blade, causing sparks to fly in the cold night and Alfie¡¯s anger to rise.

    He saw the one who¡¯d been fleeing, turn around to join the fact and Alfie knew he had his work cut out for him.

    So he began working.

    The Crimson Knight¡¯s blade came at him fast like a whip and Alfie, already injured, just barely managed to dodge it.

    He¡¯s faster than his friends.

    Does the armor improve your Might?

    No, Crimsons were just that much removed from regular guards. Save from Selvas perhaps, Alfie doubted any other Stradalian could match this enemy armour or no.

    The unarmored one stalked behind the plate and threw angry stabs at Alfie as he tried to put some distance between him and the pair.

    More than he¡¯d have preferred hit the mark, breaking skin and adding yet more injuries to impede his movement while he blocked off the more heavy attacks from the plated foe.

    He couldn¡¯t keep backing away, he had to face them head on.

    He came in with an angry swing, so fast, so brutal and so sudden that the armored one panicked and instinctively backed away, slamming into his ally behind him and catching a blade to the helm for his troubles.

    The blade missed, then Alfie slammed the toe of the weapon at the red helm.

    The sharp metal connected, shattering the helm like glass and spraying fragments of red crystals onto the earth. That was odd, Knight plate didn¡¯t seem to react like steel did to kinetic energy. More like a ceramic.

    He didn¡¯t have time to ponder that now however, he had an enemy to kill.

    The Crimson Knight stumbled back, half of his helm ruined, blood running down his face from an open gash. Alfie could see the pale freckled face of his enemy, the panic in his eyes.

    He was still standing though, still alive, injured, but not nearly as much as he would have had he been without the helm.

    So that¡¯s why they wear the plate.

    They weren¡¯t much stronger than steel, yet still hard enough to hinder piercing damage.

    Like a gambeson, made to resist stabs instead of blunt force.

    The foe behind the armor was the real threat however.

    He was this man¡¯s superior in every way, and if they had fought on equal terms, Alfie was certain he would come out on top.

    But if he had to fight two of them at once or godforbid there was another Gray here, then all he could be certain of was that he would at the very least manage to ruin their armor.

    The Crimson glared angrily at Aflie, as if disgusted that he dared to strike him. The expression was one he¡¯d expect from a Demon, not a human. It made his blood boil with rage.

    This man, this fucking spineless cretin really does think he¡¯sabove the rest of us humans.

    Alfie had no choice, he had no choice when he killed people, had no choice when he slaughtered the men and women his torturer told him to.

    But he did.

    ¡°I¡¯m going to feed you your own testicles when this is over with.¡± He hissed and didn¡¯t recognise his own voice, it was something different, something distant, dark and angry, so, so angry.

    The Crimson cocked his head curiously, placed a hand on his ally¡¯s shoulder and shoved him into Alfie.

    Alfie caught the man, saw the other moving in to stab him and in one swift motion, shunted the unarmored Gray into the path of his superior¡¯s thrust.

    The blade sunk deep into flesh and burst out of the man¡¯s chest.

    The man was still pulling his blade out of the other when Alfie¡¯s attack came.

    He raised his axe high, gripped it like a hunter might a dagger, and stabbed the metal spike down into the hole in the monster¡¯s helm.

    ¡°No wait-¡± The man who had forfeited his humanity began. But Alfie had not an ear for scum.

    The edge buried itself into the bastard¡¯s eye, broke through the back of his skull and exploded out of his helm.

    The corpse spasmed, face twisted in terror and surprise, then slumped into the dirt.

    He heard a ruckus exploding outwards from the chieftain¡¯s home. It was where the bulk of the Knights were resting.

    They¡¯d have heard the sounds of their men dying, they¡¯d be coming out now, armor donned and runed blades at the ready.

    There¡¯d be fourteen of them left, all on mounts, all seeking vengeance for their fallen allies. Alfie didn¡¯t stand a chance, but that didn¡¯t matter, he¡¯d make sure to cut at least one down before it was all over.

    He took one last look at the skies, two moons, one blue, one silver. He¡¯d like to say he¡¯d miss this place, but he wouldn¡¯t.

    A part of him, though, wished he could stay just a bit longer.

    Alfie paced towards the building, rage in his veins. He was expecting death to meet him the moment he stepped into the compound, what he saw was something else entirely.

    Cain stood defiantly, face smeared with blood, ground littered with corpses of armored Knights around her. Alfie moved to help Cain but caught himself upon realization that none of the blood was hers.

    The woman looked tired, but unhurt.

    There was a look in her eyes, like malice given form. When she looked at Alfie he couldn¡¯t help but grip his sword and brace himself for what he was convinced would be a frenzied attack from her.

    None came however and the woman spat on the dead men. ¡°That¡¯s all of them.¡± She rolled her neck. ¡°More are on their way now, we need to prepare for war.¡± She hissed, getting to her feet.

    They¡¯re all armored, and unlike me she didn¡¯t surprise them¡­

    ¡°Who were you?¡± Alfie found himself asking.

    Cain met his eyes with apathy, as if the decision of whether or not she was going to answer him was based on the flip of a coin. ¡°Someone you don¡¯t ever want to meet.¡± She told him, and he believed her.

 Chapter 32: A Snake Is Born.

    Chapter 32: A Snake Is Born.

    Neutralising the would-be robbers was so easy that even now, just seconds after doing it, Nero could barely remember what he¡¯d done. All he knew was that it was tedious and a waste of his time.

    Time that he could have been using to save Stradale.

    He looked down at the blonde man. He was on his back, a slight welt to the face where Nero must have hit him. Evidently Nero had held back, because he was still conscious.

    There was terror in his eyes, enough to leave him petrified, lips quivering and body trembling.

    Nero wondered why for a moment, and then realised that the man was mistaking his annoyance for an intent to kill.

    He was about to turn around and leave when the man finally found his voice.

    ¡°Please¡­ Please don¡¯t hurt us, we¡¯ll do anything.¡± He croaked.

    Anything huh.

    Well, he had just the thing in mind.

    Selvas had come to the decision that she didn¡¯t very much like cities. They were loud, cramped and filled with far too many ambush spots.

    That would, of course, be all well and good if her goal here was to ambush someone, but it was not, so it was an entirely negative feature of a place she was now stuck in.

    And now Nero was out there alone.

    She could have followed him, but she didn¡¯t see much use. Besides, if he couldn¡¯t survive on his own without her for more than a bit, then she had no business working with him in the first place.

    Then there was the Death Rattle crew.

    She¡¯d spent the last few hours thinking of how best to reach them, and no plan that came to mind seemed particularly helpful.

    Perhaps they could put the word out that they had a job for them and see if that drew them out, but that ran into the same problems as before, they were still outsiders, still untrustworthy and all they¡¯d be guaranteeing is that the city knew they had a lot of rubies on hand.

    A knock ran through the door, five times to let her know it was Nero.

    Selvas got to her feet and walked over to answer it.

    What she saw on the other side left her at a loss for words. Nero stood in front of her, to either side of him were strangers.

    The one on the left had scraggly blonde hair and green eyes, the one on the right had low cut dark hair and a huge frame.

    They both looked incredibly displeased to be there.

    ¡°Can we come in?¡± Nero asked, grinning ear to ear like some special kind of idiot.

    Selvas didn¡¯t let her amusement show, it¡¯d only encourage whatever behaviour she was about to be greeted with.

    She stepped aside and the three men entered the cramped room.

    ¡°So¡­¡± Nero began. ¡°This is Jeto, and this is Erik.¡± He said, pointing to the blonde and the big man respectfully.

    They both gave her somewhat of an awkward nod and Selvas returned the gesture, hopefully less awkwardly.

    ¡°I assume there¡¯s a reason they¡¯re in our room?¡± Selvas prompted.

    ¡°I¡¯m getting there, I¡¯m getting there.¡± Nero waved a dismissive hand then continued. ¡°I have a plan to get us a meeting with the Death Rattle Crew.¡±

    That certainly grabbed her attention.

    She considered that attention well wasted when Nero finally explained his plan however.

    ¡°You¡¯re an idiot.¡± She informed him, on the off chance that he wasn¡¯t already aware of the fact.

    ¡°Hey, I¡¯ll have you know we worked very hard on that.¡± Nero frowned.

    She raised an eyebrow. ¡°We?¡±

    ¡°Yes, we.¡± Jeto the blonde finally spoke up. His voice was a thin thing, as if being squeezed out of a pipe. He looked more offended than Nero if anything. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know, I¡¯m an excellent actor, your bloke here had no idea that I was going to rob him when I led him to that alleway.¡±

    ¡°You what?¡±

    ¡°Woah, woah, woah, woah.¡± Nero stepped in and grabbed her hand, she hadn''t even known she was reaching for her dagger already. ¡°We¡¯re all friends here. Also-¡± he began, now turning to Jeto. ¡°I had a very strong feeling that the strange man leading me into a secluded alleway was going to try and rob me.¡±

    Jeto shrugged. ¡°Guess I have work to do then, I¡¯ll keep that in mind for next time.¡±

    Nero was likely about to explain that he wasn¡¯t trying to give him coaching on how best to mug people, but a thick booming voice barged in.

    ¡°So are we doing this or what?¡± They said and Selvas didn¡¯t recognise it was Erik who spoke, because until now he had only stood quietly and looked mean, which would come quite in handy when their plan kicked off.

    ¡°Yes.¡± Nero said. ¡°Yes we are.¡±

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    Nero- no, not Nero, the Cobra, the Cobra stood in the centre of a bar. It was closed now, as it often was so long after working hours, but the Cobra¡¯s time was always well past working hours.

    He was, after all, a crime lord from the lands of Burden who had travelled far and wide in search of a mercenary group that would suit his very specific needs.

    He was dressed in regal furs, eyes spectacled with bright golden glasses and wrists wrapped in jewelry. All fake of course, sourced by Nero¡¯s new friends in low places, but then even counterfeits meant to fool a man in a poorly lit room didn¡¯t come cheap.

    It was worth it for the invention of the Cobra, and the Cobra would thank Nero if he wasn¡¯t just another pawn to be used in his grand machinations of¡­ Evil. Just like everyone was.

    They were sat around a table.

    To the Cobra¡¯s sides were his employees, Jeto and Erik, men, dangerous men who did dangerous things dangerously.

    Danger.

    Standing behind the Cobra was Selv- well she had declined to pick a name or ¡®Play part in this silly charade,¡¯ so for now she would just be known as the scary woman.

    In front of the Cobra was a barkeep by day and notorious gangster by night who went by the name of Ramsey Del. He had ginger red hair and a long beard that reached down to his round belly.

    The scar where his left eye used to be told the Cobra he was dangerous, and while Nero might have been unnerved at the sight of such a gnarly gash, the Cobra was unmoved. In fact the Cobra was certainly not feeling queasy just staring at the empty cavern of ruined flesh.

    What mattered was that Ramsey knew how to contact the Death Rattle Crew, and the Cobra would get him to do that for them.

    ¡°So, this is the guy with a job for the Rattle?¡± Ramsey asked, voice like crushed stone. His eyes on Jeto.

    The Cobra was about to speak, in fact he had a whole script in his head of just exactly how to cement the idea of who he was and what he did into this man¡¯s mind.

    That, however, was thrown out the window the moment Jeto opened his mouth.

    ¡°Oh, he¡¯s the real deal alright Ram.¡± He said, leaning in conspiratorially. ¡°Heard he killed five crims with his bare hands.¡± He added, earning a raised eyebrow from Ramsey.

    The Cobra couldn¡¯t yell at Jeto to stop ruining his plans, as that might give up the gig a little, instead he subtly kicked the bastard in the shin.

    Jeto just kept going.

    ¡°Bloke¡¯s the largest dealer of arms on that side of Tayalnisyan, heard he¡¯s making waves in Luxuria too.¡± He added, and that birthed scepticism in the man.

    Shut up, you fucker.

    He did not, in fact, shut up, and only continued speaking. ¡°And, I hear the brothels fear him, for any woman that has seen beyond a dozen years is far too old for his taste.¡±

    ¡°Really?¡± That earned a look from Ramsey and it was far from one of approval.

    Nero could not contradict Jeto if he wanted to keep this already rickety ruse from falling apart. So he just had to agree. It seemed the Cobra, amongst many other things¡­ was a pedophile now.

    He met Ramsey¡¯s eyes, cocked his head back a fraction and shrugged. ¡°I have my needs.¡±

    The man¡¯s face twisted in revulsion. ¡°Well, you¡¯re a sick fuck aren¡¯t you.¡±

    A hand slammed down on the table with the sound of thunder, Selvas¡¯. She dragged Ramsey onto his feet by his long beard and pressed her dagger to his throat.

    Eyes like a tundra she glared deep into his soul with enough emptiness to banish any semblance of composure he might have had left in him. ¡°Talk to my boss like that ever again, and I¡¯ll carve out your one good eye and shove it up your arse.¡±

    Ramsey looked up at Selv- no, he looked up at the Scary Woman, trembling and sweating. The dark patch on his trousers told Nero he¡¯d soiled himself somewhere during the whole ordeal.

    ¡°Understood.¡± He croaked and the Scary Woman let go of him. Ramsey slid back into his chair, and his eyes fell on Nero. ¡°I apologize, if you have a job for the Death Rattle crew, I¡¯ll relay the message to them immediately.¡±

    Nero did his best to hide the mix of terror and arousal that currently ran through him at Selvas¡¯ display. ¡°That is agreeable.¡± He said, and waved a dismissive hand with all the poise of a man who was used to having attractively terrifying women under his retinue.

    They got up after that, and made their way out of the tavern. Once they were far enough away, Nero turned to Jeto.

    ¡°What the fuck is wrong with you?¡± He snapped.

    The man shrugged. ¡°Probably an unwillingness to be emotionally vulnerable with my loved ones.¡±

    ¡°You nearly ruined the plan!¡±

    ¡°I had to do something, you were losing him.¡± He chastised.

    ¡°I hadn¡¯t even said a word yet.¡± Nero replied, finding himself suddenly tired. He rubbed his nose. ¡°Look, what matters is that it worked.¡±

    ¡°So we¡¯re square?¡± Jeto asked, and the man suddenly looked smaller, uneasy and weary.

    ¡°We¡¯re square.¡± Nero assured him.

    He sighed in relief and so did Erik. ¡°Glad to hear it.¡± The man breathed. ¡°Just remember my directions and don¡¯t get caught.¡±

    Nero nodded and watched the two men disappear into the night.

    He turned to Selvas and grinned. ¡°Thank you by the way.¡±

    The edge of her lips arched upwards an inch. ¡°You needed the help.¡± She shrugged and then in an instant all signs of relaxation were gone from her. She was tense as a spring and ready for action. ¡°Now onto the next part of your not-so-stupid plan.¡±

    Nero grinned wide. ¡°You called it not so stupid.¡±

    Ramsey¡¯s ceiling was a cold, musty, dusty and cramped space to hide in, but Nero couldn¡¯t think of anywhere else he could do so without instantly being seen and or killed by the people they were trying their best to hire.

    Selvas didn¡¯t seem to mind, then again she didn¡¯t seem to mind anything that Hell threw at her.

    They could see into the building¡¯s reception from the holes in the ceiling, it allowed them to observe Ramsey and much of what they observed was a whole lot of nothing. It turned out very little happened in the middle of the night.

    Still, who said stake outs were fun?

    What they often were was necessary, and this one was moreso than most.

    Nero couldn¡¯t bank his entire plan on the Death Rattle being willing to talk to the Cobra after meeting Ramsey, if they didn¡¯t then he¡¯d effectively be back at square one and with nowhere to go after that.

    So they watched Ramsey see to his business, cleaning plates, rinsing cups and so on.

    ¡°Well, this is boring.¡± Ember whined as she floated up between him and Selvas. She¡¯d made herself a dull, barely perceptible glow where she once used to look like a miniature sun.

    Nero assumed she¡¯d made that decision to keep herself from being seen, but he¡¯d never actually seen Ember consciously alter her brightness, it always seemed like something that reflected how she felt.

    He would have figured that was also what was happening here, had her dress not also changed, where once long and flowing, now it stopped just above her ankles. A minor, inconsequential change, but a change nonetheless.

    This paired with her recent behaviour towards Demons led Nero to believe there was something more going on here.

    ¡°It is boring.¡± Selvas agreed with a whisper. ¡°And, it was Nero¡¯s idea.¡± She added, thrusting the entirety of the blame onto him. Such a stand-up girl she was.

    Ember as a result glared daggers at Nero.

    He was about to explain himself when someone new walked in.

    Hooded in an all-black cloak, the only discerning feature Nero could make out from above was a strand of red hair that peaked out of the hood.

    They held a spear in a gloved hand, runed and dark as night from shaft to tip.

    The stranger walked lightly, feet barely seeming to touch the ground with what little sound the wooden floor made in response to their weight.

    Ramsey however was an explosion of reactions. He was immediately on edge the moment the stranger walked in, spine straight, eyes ahead and hands nervously gripping the counter. ¡°You came.¡± He began, with a voice that was equal parts relief and displeasure.

    ¡°I did.¡± The stranger responded. Voice soft like a whisper, yet sharp as a knife. Female.

    ¡°So, I know you said you¡¯re not taking any jobs right now.¡± Ramsey began hesitantly. ¡°But there¡¯s the guy, big shot, sick fuck, but he pays well so who cares, and-¡±

    ¡°We told you we¡¯re not taking any jobs.¡± The woman cut in, voice sounding edged now.

    ¡°Yes, but-¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡±

    ¡°Won¡¯t you at least listen-¡±

    ¡°Shut up.¡± The woman said again, this time more forcefully and severely.

    Ramsey did, but the woman said nothing after, she didn¡¯t leave either, just stood there, head swivelling from left to right and then right to left.

    Something¡¯s wrong.

    Nero met Selvas¡¯ purple eyes and they seemed to scream the same thing.

    When he looked back down at the woman, her spear was shooting straight up at him like a ballista bolt.

 Chapter 33: Man Must Fight The Beast Within or The Beast Beyond.

    Chapter 33: Man Must Fight The Beast Within or The Beast Beyond.

    ¡°S-so they¡¯re all dead?¡± Gunther asked, voice weak, legs heavy. He swore that if he had to deal with even one more horrible piece of Demon related news his heart might give in.

    There goes Stradale¡¯s potion master, death by bad news.

    ¡°Saw the corpses meself¡¯.¡± Alfie confirmed and from the look in the big man¡¯s face, he knew that there was no hint of deceit in them.

    ¡°Good, good.¡± He sat back down in his chair and wiped the sweat pooling at the top of his forehead. He¡¯d asked him that question eight times now, and all eight times he¡¯d gotten the same answer.

    They were back in the chieftain¡¯s home, Gunther in his makeshift office, and Alfie sat across from him on the desk.

    Stradale was once again free, and it was due to the actions of not him- the town potions master and now leader, but two people with the intent and ability to kill.

    A lesser man would have felt a coward at not being able to contribute. So that probably explained why Gunther did. He was born with no Magic, no Might, only hands that tried and often failed to salvage what was left of a body ruined by either.

    Perhaps only those with the guts to actually put their lives on the line should get to sit in the chair I¡¯m in.

    No, a single thought showed him that would be a world of tyrants and sycophants. Still, that didn¡¯t make him feel any more of a man.

    His eyes fell on Alfie now. The other man¡¯s eyes were hard, they perpetually were these days. He reckoned he was one of the few people who remembered when he wasn¡¯t like that.

    When the Might-infused Damned bought by the Chieftain of Stradale had a mix of fright, terror and defiance in his eyes. Slowly however, day by day, it had withered away, till all that was left even now in his freedom, was a man with eyes like a cold steel.

    ¡°Tell me, friend.¡± Gunther grunted, shifting in his seat. ¡°Did your world ever have an equivalent of Demons? Creatures made from evil, anathema to life, progress, prosperity, joy and everything in between?¡±

    The big man answered without skipping a beat. ¡°Tories.¡±

    Tories, that really did sound like a ferocious title. Gunther couldn''t keep images of large, lumbering bare creatures as tall as the trees themselves, forked tongues out and boulder-wide tentacles swaying from side to side as they crushed all underneath them with each step.

    ¡°Well,¡± He sighed, feeling a shiver run through him. ¡°Let''s hope we never meet one of those in Hell.¡±

    Aflie sniffed and Gunther suppressed the chill that invoked.

    A knock on his door thankfully yanked him out of his mind. It was a guard, or rather ¡®Protector¡¯ as the citizens were taking to calling them now, not wanting to use the term that was associated with the men who wreaked havoc upon them for generations.

    This one was Tommy, the young lad who he¡¯d saved a while ago, the one Nero in his infinite wisdom had decided to assault, and the one who¡¯d put his life on the line to save Stradale.

    That all seemed like it had happened ages ago now, though.

    The man told him there was something they had to see and Gunther followed, expecting he¡¯d be greeted with something uniquely terrible.

    Instead it was something...Else.

    Four strange men and one woman stood in front of him. They all towered above him, all surely holding either Might or Magic within them. More likely the former as Magic was a rare thing.

    They were young and with eyes that held onto him uneasily, like a drowning man looking for purchase in the water.

    ¡°Are you Gunther?¡± The woman asked. She looked the meanest of them all and Gunther swallowed before identifying himself as the leader of the rebel group responsible for killing several Crimsons and a Demon.

    ¡°Yes.¡±

    She nodded and bowed. ¡°Cain directed us to you, I fled from Vitrakin to aid Stradale in its rebellion. We would like to fight for you, if you¡¯ll have us, my Lord.¡± She got on one knee and so did her friends.

    ¡°I¡­ Sussana of Vitrakin, pledge my allegiance to Lord Gunther.¡± She swore and then the other strangers proceeded to do the same.

    ¡°Please, stand up, stand up, there are no more lords here, that is what this rebellion is about, putting an end to the rule of one¡¯s will above the plenty.¡± Gunther spat quickly and with a ferocity that shocked even him.

    The strangers rushed back up to their feet, eyes downcast and looking chastised.

    Gunther mentally kicked himself. ¡°Vitrakin.¡± He murmered softly. ¡°Always our reliable neighbours aren¡¯t you.¡± He smiled.

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    The young woman smiled back. ¡°We do our best.¡± She said, and then there was an intensity to her eyes. ¡°I just hope once this is done, we can free my people next.¡±

    ¡°I hope so too.¡± Gunther nodded. Cain¡¯s recruiting was going well, then. Five more people, only five for now, but there were other towns to visit and more people to recruit within them.

    Stradale had roughly a hundred Mighted, ten of those were the guards and another ten were the hunters and mercenaries who¡¯d sided with the Chieftain. They were all dead now and of the remaining seventy, roughly ten were either dead or too injured to join in the attack.

    They¡¯d recruited a mix of ten mercenaries and hunters from beyond the town and that had been enough to make up for the men lost, and with these new five Stradale had a helping of fifteen extra Mighty men, however only five more than they¡¯d had pre rebellion.

    From what the scouts had told him about the approaching force, and with Neroa and Selvas gone, they¡¯d need at least a few dozen more to even stand a chance.

    The girl shifted nervously in her boots. ¡°Also, I have news.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m listening.¡± He told her, bracing himself for it.

    ¡°There¡¯s a force approaching.¡±

    ¡°Yes, we know about that.¡± Gunther nodded. It wasn¡¯t news he was exactly pleased to have reinforced, but it wasn¡¯t something he wasn¡¯t already learning to accept already either.

    The girl shook her head. ¡°They¡¯ve split off a chunk of their cavalry to advance for Stradale.¡±

    Gunther¡¯s legs felt weak again, his head was light, stomach queasy. ¡°What?¡±

    The spear shot through the ceiling, missed the chance to perform involuntary bottom surgery on Nero by an inch and burst out through the roof.

    Selvas was already smashing through the wood and leaping down to the bar floor.

    Nero followed not long after, landing on his feet and rushing to join Selvas.

    The two women were already locked in battle, Ramsey was fleeing. That was good, he wouldn¡¯t be a problem then.

    Selvas¡¯ dagger came swinging in tight arcs, each one meant to impale the woman who¡¯d just thrown a spear at her.

    ¡°Wait, stop!¡± Nero called out at her but she either wasn¡¯t listening or didn¡¯t care.

    The stranger was on the backfoot, narrowly escaping bladed retribution by smaller and smaller margins. Selvas was faster, deadlier and it seemed this whole affair would end soon.

    Then the spear burst through the roof like a missile and raced towards Selvas¡¯ back.

    Nero dashed towards Selvas, dove and dragged her to the ground a moment before the spear went whizzing by.

    Thank fucking god I focused on speed.

    He rolled to his feet in his landing, eyes on the woman with the flying spear. It was in her hands now and she was spinning it dangerously.

    Her eyes were like that of some stalking predator, waiting patiently for an opening in her prey.

    Nero held his hands out placidly and walked towards her. ¡°Listen, we don¡¯t want to fight.¡±

    The length of the weapon slammed into the side of his face like a battering ram. Nero stumbled to the side, felt blood run down his head and rage bubble up next. ¡°Okay, you know what, maybe I do want to fight.¡±

    He took a step forwards when the wall next to the door exploded outwards. Something had charged through it, and it took Nero longer than he would have preferred to truly grasp what he was looking at.

    It looked like a gorilla, certainly had the proportions of one, save from the large horns that sprouted from its skull and the three sets of limbs it had instead of two.

    It was on him before he was done taking it in.

    The creature tackled Nero to the ground, snarling and roaring as it brought down a barrage of punches from its two sets of arms.

    Instinctively, Nero curled up as the punches came, each one like a hammer, and coming far quicker than he was prepared for.

    One, two, three, four, one two, three, four, one two, three, four.

    Over and over again.

    This thing punched harder than he could without Light. He didn¡¯t panic, protected his vitals and waited for an opening.

    One, two, three-

    Now!

    His fist came springing upwards with all the strength his spirit could muster, already tense and ready to strike.

    The gorilla leaned backwards, motion smooth, quick, reflexive.

    But not fast enough.

    Nero connected with the underside of its jaw and knew instantly that its world had flashed white.

    Tough too, tougher than I am.

    He rolled out from underneath and brought the full weight of his foot into the side of the monster¡¯s face not a moment later.

    He couldn¡¯t dare give it an instance of reprieve, speed was his only true advantage.

    His foot connected with a wicked snap and that tipped it over and onto its back.

    He drew his sword and plunged it straight for the monster¡¯s throat.

    ¡°Wait!¡± A voice held his blade just inches from the dazed creature¡¯s neck.

    He looked up to find the spearwoman glaring at him. She had Selvas in a hold and the edge of her weapon at his friend¡¯s neck.

    ¡°Hurt him and I¡¯ll open your ally¡¯s throat and empty her blood onto the wooden floorboard.¡± There was a deadly edge to her voice now, the kind not born from control, but panic.

    She cares about this thing.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think she¡¯s joking Nero.¡± Selvas informed him, calm as ever, even while her life hung in the balance.

    He looked down at the creature and it looked back up at Nero with a clear intellect in its eyes. It was impossibly still, clearly not wanting to give Nero any reason to plunge his sword deeper.

    ¡°Step away from it Nero.¡± Selvas suggested.

    He looked back up at her. ¡°Well, if I do then she has all the power.¡±

    ¡°She has a spear to my throat.¡± She pressed.

    ¡°Well I have a sword to her gorilla.¡± He countered.

    ¡°What the fuck is a gorilla?¡± Selvas frowned.

    Nero sighed and set his eyes on the hostile stranger. ¡°We let our friends go on the count of three.¡±

    The woman nodded.

    One, two, three.

    Selvas and the gorilla scrambled past each other and neither Nero nor the woman made a move to stop either of them.

    Selvas rubbed her neck, glaring. ¡°You gambled my life with a pet.¡±

    ¡°I had a hunch.¡± He shrugged then set his eyes back on the enemy. ¡°We don¡¯t want to kill you.¡±

    ¡°Speak for yourself, throw a spear at me again and I¡¯ll turn you into a corpse.¡± Selvas explained, with not even a hint of anger in her voice.

    ¡°Do you want to go again then?¡± The woman said, spinning her blade and glaring at her.

    Selvas shook her head. ¡°Of course not, you¡¯d kill me with your reach advantage.¡± She replied matter of factly.

    ¡°We need your help.¡± Nero said quickly, trying to steer the conversation back on course.

    ¡°Lots of people need our help-¡± The woman began replying but Nero cut in.

    ¡°We can pay.¡± He said immediately.

    ¡°Well we¡¯re not taking any jobs right now.¡± She told him, eyes hard.

    Nero found his frustration only growing. ¡°Why the fuck not?!¡± He pressed. He had a member of the crew right in front of him now, he¡¯d done everything he could to make sure he found them, everything he could possibly think of and still with only a day to get ahead of the army, there was still some new roadblock to stand in his way.

    ¡° I can¡¯t help you, because our leader¡¯s locked up in the Seal.¡± The woman snapped back at Nero.

 Chapter 34: The Hungry Path Of Uncertainty.

    Chapter 34: The Hungry Path Of Uncertainty.

    ¡°Please.¡± Nero begged, but his pleas bounced off of the woman uselessly. She was moved, he could see, but not moved half enough to shake her resolve.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± She replied.

    ¡°They¡¯ll burn it down!¡± Nero snapped. ¡°They¡¯ll burn a town down with everyone in it, men, women, children, every single person will suffer and die if you don¡¯t help us.¡±

    Nero felt the tears wet his cheek, heard the way his voice cracked as he spoke. He was so close, so close, it couldn¡¯t end like this.

    ¡°Nero, she¡¯s not going to change her mind, let¡¯s go.¡± Selvas told him, voice uncharacteristically soft. ¡°We¡¯ll find some other way.¡±

    He ignored her and dropped to his knees. There was no other way, there was no other option, this was it, right now the person who stood between Stradale¡¯s life and death was the stranger in front of him.

    ¡°I¡­ I just want to do something good for once.¡± He told her. He didn¡¯t know what he was wishing for, didn¡¯t know exactly how a man she¡¯d never met before was going to convince her to abandon her leader and come help him, but Nero was done being rational, rationality was not a privilege afforded to desperate men at the end of their rope.

    She met his eyes, and Nero held hers.

    Please, please, please.

    And then, wordlessly, she shook her head and turned for the door.

    ¡°Wait!¡± Nero screamed, voice frantic, he scrambled onto his feet. ¡°I¡­ I can help you.¡± He spat. ¡°You want your friend freed, I¡­ I can help with that.¡± he pointed quickly to Selvas. ¡°We can help with that.¡±

    She raised an eyebrow, about to ask a question, but Nero didn¡¯t have time for her to give it voice.

    ¡°You fought us, you¡¯ve seen what we¡¯re capable of, if anyone can break them out, it¡¯s probably us.¡± He pressed, words shooting out of his mouth with barely a moment of thought between them. ¡°And if we die trying, it¡¯s no loss to you.¡±

    He could see it in her eyes now, she was considering it, considering exactly how many other Might users in Tayalnisyan were as powerful as they were.

    Not many.

    Now she was thinking of how many would work to break a wanted criminal out of a jail basically for free.

    None.

    Nero should have been confident, but there was a flicker of doubt in her eyes, like debris against a glass surface.

    ¡°It¡¯s too dangerous.¡± She said, ¡°We don¡¯t know you, for all I know this could be a ploy for the city Lady to get all of us.¡± She added hesitantly. ¡°If we¡¯re going to find someone to pull this off, it¡¯ll have to be a person we approached, not the other way around.¡±

    Nero¡¯s heart sank, he felt like he was going to puke. It was over, it was all over, and yet his mouth was moving before he could think. ¡°You can trust me.¡± He told her.

    Wordlessly, he stretched his palm out, reached for that raging power that thrummed hungrily within him and set his hand ablaze with a golden light.

    Her eyes widened, then widened even further as she saw the golden Imp hover just inches above Nero¡¯s palm.

    ¡°I am the Light Breather.¡±

    The woman took a step back, her lips were quivering, her body trembling. She made a gesture across her chest and then looked at Nero with an expression that he couldn¡¯t quite place, yet one he recognised well from Alisan back in the tower.

    Worship. He recognised it was worship.

    ¡°Come with me.¡± She croaked and then turned for the door.

    Nero didn¡¯t hesitate even a moment before following.

    The hot air of Damnation beat angrily against Tommy¡¯s back, his legs felt heavy underneath him and still, still he felt the best shape he¡¯d been in for a long while.

    There was a metaphorical spring to his step and the world smelled that much more beautiful.

    ¡°Have you ever seen a Crimson up close before?¡± Tillian asked. He wasn¡¯t a native of Stradale, instead a young outlaw, one of the lucky few who ran around Hell under no Demon¡¯s serfdom.

    He had been chosen for his impressive Toughness by Cain. So Tough in fact that in his years as an outlaw there didn¡¯t seem to be a hint of a scar on him. That was rare, even for a boy only eighteen years old like he was.

    ¡°The ones who showed up at Stradale were the first I¡¯d ever seen.¡± Tommy told him. They were walking past the hills, using the massive mounds of land as cover to obscure themselves from the approaching forces.

    They needed to scout to get a better read on the enemy forces. Cain was off recruiting, because the simple fact was that people were exponentially more likely to join their side when someone as powerful as her was the one pitching the idea.

    Even if it is the losing side.

    ¡°Oh, you saw one, what were they like?¡± Sussana, the Vitrakin, asked from behind. Well, Vitrakin no more, he supposed, by joining their side she¡¯d forfeited any chance to ever go back home. She was impressive because she was a Caster, a rare find and useful in unconventional battles.

    ¡°Terrifying¡­¡± Tommy answered, suppressing a shudder. He hadn¡¯t seen them in action, only heard from spectators of how quick and ferocious they were against the executioner.

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    How much more powerful, then, is the executioner for killing one.

    ¡®Alfie¡¯¡­

    He should probably start thinking about him as that, and not the title the Chieftain gave him. It was not just right, but the least Tommy could do if he ever wanted a chance at being seen as anything other than the addict who nearly got the Light Breather killed.

    Alfie had wanted to be the one doing the scouting, but both he and Gunther had urged him against it. He was just too much of a valuable Mighty and the risk of him getting surrounded and killed was simply too great.

    Tommy had volunteered immediately, desperate to do good, desperate to put that sense of direction he was finally feeling to some good use. And so he and four other Mighty set off from Stradale.

    The remaining two were Aigburth the mercenary archer and Rollins the Stradalian hunter.

    The pair were quiet, and while Aigburth¡¯s seemed more out of contemplation, Rollins¡¯s silence was a seething rage that screamed out from his eyes.

    Robbed his wife.

    Yes, that was what Tommy had done.

    And when he brought the matter to the Chieftain, the lack of witnesses meant that Tommy got to walk free. Rollins hadn¡¯t let it go however, so he showed up to Tommy¡¯s home in a rage, eager to teach him a lesson but found a beating instead of retribution.

    It was, in truth, mostly a blur to him, but certainly not to Rollins. Tommy would bet good crystals that the poor man remembered every last detail of that day and was reminded of it every time he saw Tommy.

    And now that we¡¯re together, it must be the only thing at the forefront of his mind.

    Tommy added that to the list of many things he had to make right.

    He¡¯d become a protector of Stradale, been a lookout and occasionally gone hunting to help Gunther stockpile medicinal resources and food for the upcoming attack, and while those things felt nice, not once had he actually walked up to a person he¡¯d wronged and apologized.

    Because I¡¯m a coward.

    That was the truth, he was scared, scared of what they¡¯d say, scared of what they¡¯d do and worst of all scared that he wouldn¡¯t keep on trying to be better if he didn¡¯t like what he heard.

    Nothing horrified him more than the idea of turning back into what he once was. An aimless man, less a person and more a whirlwind of destruction.

    Well he had to stop being a coward someday.

    Tommy slowed and let Rollins catch up with him. The man¡¯s malice bleeding gaze fell on Tommy for a moment, he tensed, as if expecting an attack then looked away.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry.¡± Tommy said. ¡°I¡¯m sorry for hurting your wife, I¡¯m sorry for hurting you, I¡¯m sorry for what I was, and I¡­ I just want you to know that I¡¯m doing everything in my power to make things right.¡±

    Rollins'' reply came quickly, and it was as hot as a whip. ¡°Can you just fuck off with that.¡± He scoffed. ¡°Fuck off with your fucking journey to be a better man bullshit, I see you looking out for everyone, you become a protector, help Gunther out in gathering and spend sleepless nights watching for invaders.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ I don¡¯t understand.¡± Tommy said, throat tight.

    ¡°And then you fucking look at us from the corner of your eyes, hoping somebody saw, hoping that we¡¯re all thinking ¡®wow, look how much better of a person Tom the piece of shit junkie has become, he¡¯s probably not going to mug me when I walk home alone tonight, you know what we should do, we should forgive him for mugging us last month and invite him to our homes for dinner¡¯¡±

    Tommy felt his guts twist. That wasn¡¯t what he was doing. No, it was. It wasn¡¯t what he meant to- but what did it matter what he meant to do? It was the truth and that was that.

    ¡°Listen, the only reason I¡¯m here is because these three don¡¯t know who you are, and I¡¯d never forgive myself if their misplaced trust in you is what gets them killed.¡± Rollins said and then quickened his pace to join the rest of the group.

    Tommy watched him go, shoulders that much heavier, the world smelling that much more pungent and his heart aching.

    Rollins turned around to face Tommy, bow ready and knocked an arrow into it. Tommy stopped, but didn¡¯t move to run, perhaps he should just let him kill him, that might be the only good thing in this world he could manage.

    ¡°Duck, you idiot!¡± The man growled, let loose the arrow and Tommy did.

    The projectile struck a man in pale plate armor, shattering it and sticking shallowly into his shoulder.

    They were more behind him, four to be exact, and they were coming straight at them.

    Nero and Selvas were silent as they followed behind the stranger, sliding along shadows and squeezing through alleyways. It occurred to him yet again that this could be a trap, she could be leading them straight to the Demon Lord of this city to exchange the Light Breather for their leader.

    Nero waited for the panic to come, the urge to run, the hesitation and terror to come knocking and banging at every door in his head.

    Nothing came.

    He was just that desperate, if this was a trick, then Stradale was already doomed.

    They reached a small building, not at all dissimilar from the many others that dotted the city, and the woman knocked on its door six times with what sounded like a specific rhythm.

    Nero waited and it opened with barely a creak.

    The four armed gorilla went in first, then she did and then gestured for Nero and Selvas to follow.

    Nero took in a deep breath and entered, hearing Selvas¡¯ footsteps echo his.

    The building was cold, dark and stuffy. There wasn¡¯t much illuminating light save from the glow from several pots which held brightly coloured swirling liquids within them.

    It reminded Nero of Gunther¡¯s potion shop and brought back memories of his time in Stradale.

    The man overseeing the pots was not hard faced or short however. Instead he was a lean, tall man, aged and wrinkled so that he looked maybe a few decades younger than Cain and smiling brightly to display missing teeth.

    ¡°Jion, you brought guests!¡± He beamed, hands raised in the air. He sprung up with a suddenness uncharacteristic of one his age and rushed towards Nero with a jittery quickness.

    He halted right in front of him, far too close for comfort and far too eagerly. Nero could make out details of his worn face that he would rather not have had the pleasure of viewing.

    His discomfort was made ever greater by the man beginning to sniff him intently, like a dog tracking a scent.

    ¡°Excuse me.¡± Nero said, stiffly.

    The man looked up at him and grinned knowingly. ¡°You¡¯re not from around here.¡±

    ¡°I¡­ what?¡± Nero blinked. ¡°Don¡¯t fucking sniff me.¡±

    ¡°Outsider, you lack the stink of Dolore.¡± The weirdo concluded. He walked up to Selvas, perhaps to do the same but thought better of it at the flash of her blade.

    ¡°Leave them alone Erlo, they¡¯re friends.¡± The woman called out. She¡¯d taken off her hood now and her long red hair cascaded down her face.

    ¡°Friends, friends.¡± The old man nodded, grinning at something Nero couldn¡¯t identify. He stroked a long white wispy beard as he stood there. That combined with his long robes gave him a striking resemblance to a wizard.

    ¡°Friends.¡± Nero repeated cautiously.

    Erlo, stretched out his hand to shake his and Nero took it. The man wrapped his other hand around it and shook Nero¡¯s hand so vigorously that he thought he was going to lose it.

    Nero stumbled forwards, nearly lost his balance and pulled his hand free.

    The man turned to the woman and shook his head disappointedly. ¡°Jion, our new friend has a poor hand shake.¡±

    Nero glared at the bastard who just smiled back

    What was it with old people in this world.

    ¡°I said, stop that!¡± The woman, Jion, stepped in front of Erlo and glared at him. There was a rigid sternness in her eyes, one that made the old man calm down ever so slightly. ¡°He¡¯s not just anyone Erlo, Nero here is the Light Breather.¡±

    The man raised an eyebrows. ¡°Bullshit.¡±

    Ember floated out of Nero¡¯s pocket and drifted up to his shoulders. ¡°Hi.¡± She waved.

    His eyes widened, ¡°Not bullshit.¡±

    ¡°We¡¯re here to break your friend out of prison.¡± Ember revealed, striding forwards and dragging the room¡¯s eyes along with her. Even the gorilla seemed interested in what she was saying. ¡°I trust you lot already had plans for this, let¡¯s hear them.¡±

    And they did, quite a lot in fact, and yet none seemed to provide a way to actually come out of their predicament with all limbs intact. Nero helped, Selvas did as well, but morning was already nearing and they still didn¡¯t have a concrete answer.

    Suddenly Erlo looked at Nero, leaned in close and with an expression as grim and heavy as life and death itself asked. ¡°How wide is your arsehole?¡±