Nightmare Realm Summoner

Hazel gave Wess just about as much information as she could on Brandon and his supporters over the next hour or so. It was probably a good idea. Knowing one’s enemy was the first step to defeating them… or something like that.

Wess was pretty sure there was a passage about that sort of thing in Art of War. Unfortunately, he’d only read the book through quotes that he’d seen floating around online or overheard from men whose closest brush with war had been a scuffle over a diet coke in a Walmart parking lot.

Then again, those people were probably roughly equivalent in intelligence to the ones that Sun Tsu had originally written the book for.

Unfortunately for all of them, Hazel’s efforts weren’t particularly effective. It wasn’t that the information wasn’t useful. It definitely was. He did his best to put down everything she said to memory, just in case it became important. But Wess hadn’t ever really been all that good at memorizing things.

And, if he was completely honest with himself, his ability to think on his feet really wasn’t that great either. Wess wasn’t some genius fighter by any stretch of the imagination. The System hadn’t changed that.

There was just one thing he was skilled at. One ability that had carried him up until this point, and one ability that he planned to continue relying on.

Wess was really good at shooting shit.

The plans, strategies, and just about anything else that wasn’t directly related to pointing a big stick at something and pulling the trigger really wasn’t all that appealing to him. That might not have been perfectly ideal for a world that now rewarded challenge.

He certainly didn’t have any interest in seeking out fights in which pointing a gun at something and shooting it enough times wouldn’t let him win. That just sounded painfully unfun. Those tasks were better left to Alex or some other member of Mirrorwane.

But this kind of thing was right up his alley.

Also, the idea of stealing yet another kill from Brandon is really funny.

The sounds of fighting from the boss room had grown more intense. The ground was shaking so often that it barely ever seemed to stop, but it didn’t seem like Crimson had lost any people during the fight.

People were still yelling orders and barking out information. Much of it was clearly in shortened code-words that had been optimized for a fight. Wess didn’t quite care enough to try to piece together what they meant.

There was only one thing he was waiting for. The signal from Hazel’s men. It wasn’t going to be anything too big — just a rock tossed out the door. But, when that happened, it meant that Brandon was starting to charge up his ability.

It meant there was a 60 second timer before Brandon thought he could finish the boss off. There was a chance it meant even less time than that, but that probably would have been a bit stupid. Brandon definitely wanted to land the final blow himself.

And if he did, shooting anything less than his strongest attack was just asking to accidentally lose the kill to some random blow from one of his subordinates or an unfortunate rock falling from the ceiling.

“It shouldn’t be much longer now,” Hazel warned Wess, her hands clenched into tight fists. “They’re starting preparations for the final move. Get ready. Once we see the signal, wait 40 or 50 seconds. Then make your move. We’ll be right behind you.”

Wess nodded absently. Every part of him was focused on his gun. Well, almost every part. There was more a little piece of his mind that was eagerly trying to figure out exactly what kind of expression Brandon would make when Wess stole the kill.

“Did you hear me?” Hazel whispered.

“Yeah, yeah,” Wess said. “Sorry. Just focused. Don’t want to think about things that aren’t important, you know?”

“You were snickering to yourself.”

“Important thoughts are not necessarily boring,” Wess replied.

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Hazel just shook her head. “Just remember to wait for the perfect time and then move quickly afterward. The moment the monster goes down, Brandon is going to turn his full attention to you. And he’s going to be pissed.”

“Oh, I know,” Wess said. “I’m counting on it. But he’ll have his hands full with Glint. That’ll buy us at least a little time. More than enough to do what we need to. Just make sure your team holds up your end of the bargain. I’m going to be really annoyed if I get a bunch of his subordinates breathing down the back of my neck right after the fight starts.”

“We’ll be able to buy you some time at the bare minimum,” Hazel promised. “Don’t worry about the others. I’ve been preparing for this for a while. While your help with them would certainly make the fight easier, we won’t need you to deal with the unimportant members. Just deal with Brandon. If you haven’t killed him by the time we finish up our side of things, then we’ll help you.”

Not if I can help it. I want the last shot on Brandon. That’s definitely going to be a lot of magical energy. If Hazel’s group finishes him off, then I don’t get claim to whatever juicy loot he’s got on him.

“Yup,” Wess said. “In and out. It’ll be a piece of cake. Right, Glint?”

The monster didn’t respond.

Bah. Horrible company.

Hazel opened her mouth to say something else. But, before she could speak, a small stone sailed through the exit of the room. It clattered against the ground, bouncing twice before sliding to a stop against the far side of the hall with a delicate plink.

Both Wess and Hazel looked to the stone.

“Sixty seconds,” Hazel hissed, concentration flashing across her features. Nobody could say she wasn’t a professional. “It’s time.”

Wess shifted his weight from foot to foot. He started to edge toward the door, still taking care not to step too far into sight. The last thing he needed was for one of Brandon’s men to just happen to glance at him while he was preparing to make a move.

Hazel shot him a warning glance. “Not too fast. Don’t forget—”

Wess ignored her. His grip tightened around the handle of his Soul manifestation, but he kept his finger off the trigger. The thundering beat of his heart sent blood racing through every part of his body. His lips pulled back into a smile.

The hum of magical energy somewhere in the room filled the air, growing in intensity with every passing second. Hazel hadn’t been wrong about Brandon’s attack. It was strong. Bows were clearly quite the effective weapon when in the right hands, especially after the apocalypse.

Every weapon had its place in this world. The System had made it so that the pursuit of any path was rewarded. And every single path had its own reward. That was what made Wess like it so much.

Every weapon had a purpose. A sword could slice through solid steel at the behest of a single flick of the wrist. A shield could block just about any attack. A bow could shoot just about any projectile. They were probably the most versatile ranged weapon that Wess could think of when magic got involved.

Guns were complicated. There were countless different aspects that had to all be blended together perfectly, all to accomplish a single goal. And while there were a bunch of different guns for different purposes, Wess didn’t have those guns.

He had his gun.

And there was only one thing that his gun liked doing.

There was only one thing that Wess liked doing.

Every single part of his mind locked into place, his focus setting itself as the rest of the world faded to a distant hum. 15 seconds had passed since the rock had landed outside. Brandon wasn’t even halfway to charging up his most powerful attack.

That would be enough.

Wess stepped forward.

Hazel’s eyes went wide. She raised a hand to stop him, but it was too late. Wess strode right past her and through the doorway of the room. He was vaguely aware of Glint racing in behind him and Hazel scrambling in his wake.

Rubble was strewn about the battlefield before him. Crimson’s warriors circled a fifty-foot humanoid monster made up of stone and dirt-crusted gemstones. The enormous creature was battered and severely damaged. Light shimmered through huge cracks running through its body.

Brandon stood near the edge of the room, his massive bow drawn taut and a miniature sun glowing at the tip of his arrow, growing brighter with every passing second.

Cute.

Power swelled within Wess. He raised his gun to his shoulder, moving the crosshairs before his eye as he took in the room and lined up his shot at the exact same time. He ignored the System as its words shimmered at the edges of his vision to identify his target.

The monster didn’t matter.

His Partial Soul Manifestation didn’t let him teleport like Alex’s did. It didn’t let him wipe magic away like Alyssa’s could, nor did it do whatever the hell Claire’s did.

Wess’ magic gave him a Big Fuckin’ Gun.

And when it came to matters of one strong shot, there was no way in hell he was going to lose out to a goddamn bow.

A warning cry rolled through the room. One of Brandon’s people had spotted him. But it barely even registered to Wess’ mind.

He was too preoccupied with the wide smile pulling across his lips as his Partial Soul Manifestation rumbled with the sheer intensity of power screaming within it, begging to be released.

“No!” Brandon screamed, horror and disbelief warring in his words. “Somebody stop—”

“Boom,” Wess whispered.

Then he pulled the trigger.