The Last Experience Point

Although the fireplace was unlit, the heat from the previous flame still lingered, which meant that, whoever had been here last, they had not been gone for long and had likely only just moved on. Still, they had sure left one hell of a mess. Yeah, that they fucking did.

Anelia grunted. There was no place in her heart right now for pity as her eyes briefly glossed over the family of five who'd lived in this small, meager, and semi-desolate cabin in southeast Whispery woods.

At the moment, their bodies had been piled one on top of the other in a corner of the den: a mother, a father, and three young children. And given that this was the place it was believed Vazzal Shelen had been sheltering for at least the past ten hours, it meant that poor Adim had not only witnessed their death, but he'd been forced to reside in the same place as the corpses all throughout, cooped up in this tiny dwelling with lifeless eyes staring at him.

This infuriated Anelia. It caused her blood to boil. It made her desperate to spill blood. But still, she kept her cool.

Gonna strangle the life out of that bastard when I find him, Anelia thought. Adim is probably traumatized.

This cabin was located in a sparsely populated stretch of Whispery Woods farmlands known as the "Lonely Meadows." It was a place where an odd, ancient-looking home or two could be seen every couple of miles, but there were no real villages or towns. The closest thing they had was a trading post next to a courier office. The few hundred people who lived here tended to prefer a quiet, private life on their own secluded space. Very few of them, if any, made any kind of living off their small, quaint little farms.

Unlike the vast majority of the farmlands in Whispery Woods, the Lonely Meadows did not have any giant crop fields. No, people here tended to work small plots of land and survive exclusively on what they grew, hatched, or hunted, giving them little need of coin. They also had almost nothing in the way of technology, choosing instead to create their own tools and even their own entertainment, as evidenced by the little toy dolls that looked made out of straw and were near the bed where the children had presumably slept.

Until today, the only time Anelia had ever even thought about the Lonely Meadows was whenever one of these relatively isolated people showed up to Whispery Woods city to protest Princess Kalana, which on a slow news day, would often make it to air. They were incensed because Princess Kalana was demanding that their children be educated. Supposedly, she was okay with their minimalist lifestyle, and she wasn't even interested in cracking down on their collective inability to pay property taxes, but neither she nor the queen seemed willing to tolerate the fact that the children who lived in this part of Whispery Woods almost never received any kind of schooling.

Few, if any, even knew how to read.

Doubt these five will end up being the only victims, Anelia thought as she activated Tracking Aura.

The world darkened: everything except for a bright yellow path that ran outside of the cabin's front entrance. Shoving aside a member of the Guild of Gentlemen, Anelia held the flimsy, swinging door open while sticking her head out into the cold, and then she glanced beyond the dozens of armed, level-1 troops taking up positions around the cabin. It was there that she saw the yellow path begin to wind and veer due south.

That's got to be it, she thought.

The path avoided the narrow main road and seemed to cut haphazardly between and around various uneven stretches of terrain in a way that would only make sense if someone was either drunk or deliberately trying to avoid catching the eye of any witnesses. By now, the Elvish authorities in Whispery Woods had announced the kidnapping of the young prince, and they had asked all citizens to be on alert and to report any suspicious activity. But the people here didn't listen to the news or emergency broadcast announcements and thus wouldn't know that.

Yet, even still, the path that Anelia traced was one that strongly suggested a party of mercenaries that were intentionally trying to avoid being spotted; it was the path of people acting with the knowledge and understanding that they were being hunted.

It's them. It's got to be.

Finally, she had him: Vazzal Shelen. She might not have known precisely where he was, but she knew how to get to him.

And he was close.

Very close.

Anelia deactivated Tracking Aura and backed away while removing her scale-gauntleted palm from the door so that it swung back closed on its own. Turning around, she searched the cabin for Alex, and as she did so, a moment of quiet settled upon those inside, one that was aided by a temporary pause to the wintry breeze. For just a few seconds, the only sound was the occasional foot stepping down on the old, loose, and wooden floorboards.

"Are you sure he left nothing for us to go on?" Sir Camonae asked, his question directed at no one in particular as though inviting anyone to answer.

"Nothing that I can see," a young female member of the guild with black braided hair replied. She was busy inspecting every nook and cranny of the diminutive cabin like she might actually find something of importance here. "Did the bounty hunter say anything in his last transmission that might give us a clue?"

"Nothing," Sir Camonae said, appearing ruffled and upset. "He made his final transmission to HQ from this precise location."

To Anelia's slight surprise, the woman replied, "Well, the fireplace is still warm, so we must not be far behind them."

Not bad for a guild rat, Anelia thought. Although it was a simple observation, the bar was so low when it came to the capabilities of the guilds that she had to give the woman credit even for such a basic deduction.

"Excuse me," the woman said, struggling to brush past two of her larger, male cohorts.

Even with all of the Guild of Gentlemen's troops waiting outside, it still felt cramped in here with the twelve of them occupying most of the space within. The ten leveled members of the guild were in here with Anelia and Alex, and the roughly hundred level-1 troops were currently huddled outside and surrounding the cabin while awaiting further orders.

Yet through a gap between Sir Camonae and two other leveled members of his guild, Anelia was at last able to make eye contact with Alex, whose face was hidden behind the faceplate of his helm but whose eyes were still revealed. For just a half second or less, Anelia's gaze crossed his, and in just that short time, she managed to wordlessly, soundlessly convey everything she needed to.

With one look alone, she was able to let Alex know that she had him. That she'd found him. And that it was time to move—and rescue the boys.

"This is bad," Sir Camonae said, his lips twisting with dissatisfaction. "Even if we've only just missed him, we still have no idea where he is or in which direction he's fleeing. Our only hope now is that we somehow get lucky and find him, or that he gets lucky and makes it to one of our extraction teams before the subhuman Elves or their human sympathizers find him first."

Naturally, Sir Camonae was totally unaware of Tracking Aura, an ability that no one knew about; well, no one except "High-Lord" Alex Oren, who'd cleverly deduced it based on her behavior, though to be fair, she'd been fairly obvious about it. Regardless, from the perspective of the Guild of Gentlemen, they were at a dead end. They did not know that Anelia had found his trail, nor would they. By leading her and Alex to this cabin, they had now served their purpose.

And they were no longer needed.

"Anelia, what do we do?" he asked, desperation in his words.

Anelia did not reply with words. Rather than speak, she again regarded Alex, and she gave him a quick, almost instantaneous nod, and he returned one. This seemed to confuse Sir Camonae, whose lips formed into the "wh" position as though on the verge of asking a question—one he never got to voice.

Without wasting another second, Anelia drew one of her guns, pointed it directly at the man's forehead, and pulled the trigger.

A bang resounded, one loud enough to make her ears ring within the tight confines of the cabin. But even before the sound of the bang, Anelia could spot a crater forming in the center of the man's forehead along with a trail of blood splatter exiting out the back. At the same time, Alex, who had summoned a blade out of thin air, began whipping around the weapon, managing to decapitate two nearby members of the guild in just a single strike.

"W-wh-what's happening?" a confused, terrified voice shouted.

Neither she nor Alex replied.

They worked.

Anelia extended her arms widely so that her guns pointed to two different members of the guild, one wielding a staff, the other a pair of daggers he'd only just drawn. Squeezing the triggers, she blew both their brains out while Alex surged forward and cut up two more of the guild members. His strikes were efficient, and he ended each of them quickly.

The remaining three guild members unanimously released shrieks of terror, each of them turning around and scrambling towards the door as though instinctually trying to escape. Alex cut one down before he'd made it two steps, and Anelia shot another. The third one, however, managed to at least swing the door open. Anelia aimed and blasted him through his spine just as he ran through, causing him to roll down two wooden steps and end up dead on his back and bleeding near a group of about twenty rifle-wielding troops.

This caused an immediate panic. "S-Sir Camonae!" one cried. "What's going on? Who's attacking us!"

"Oh, Gods, Sir Molodenria is dead!" a nearby voice shouted, likely referring to the guild member who Anelia had hit in the spine. In truth, he was probably not dead yet, just paralyzed. Death would come for him soon enough.

"Let's get this over with, Alex," she said.

Anelia raised her guns and prepared to march out and begin the slaughter, but she was stopped as Alex grabbed her shoulder, halting her.

"We don't have time for them," he said. "Hunting down a hundred troops will let the bounty hunter get farther away from us. Some are going to escape regardless."

Anelia frowned. "We can't let them alert Vazzal Shelen."

"They don't know where he is," Alex said. "And with the ten leveled members of their guild dead, they're not likely to try finding him. They'll flee and try to go home." Alex turned his head in the direction of the cabin door, which had only just swung closed. "We should kill a few to make the others scatter, then let the Elvish security forces round up the rest."

Anelia nodded. "Good point. No need to waste our time killing fleas if we don't have to."

Alex made a low groan. "Don't call them fleas."

Baffled, Anelia asked, "Why the fuck not? Don't tell me you're going soft, Oren."

"No, it's not that. To the contrary, I wouldn't mind you calling them fleas if it was on the basis of their affiliation with the Guild of Gentlemen. But you're saying it on the basis of them being level-1. That's what I object to. I intensely dislike when the powerful view the lesser powered in such a way."

The fuck is this nerdy bitch talking about? Anelia wondered, both annoyed and aggrieved that he'd even waste her time by talking about something so irrelevant.

"Huh?"

"It's…never mind," Alex said. "A conversation for another time, perhaps."

Alex removed his helm with one hand, at last revealing his face, as his disguise was no longer necessary. Then he raised his arm, bringing it up above his head, and the entire helm vanished, likely going into Bank and Storage. With that, the two of them then exited the cabin together, and immediately, they began unleashing death upon those nearest to the entrance.

A delayed shower of bullets eventually began peppering Anelia and her companion, but obviously, she could not even feel them, and she doubted Alex could, either. Not wanting to waste her stamina, she holstered her guns and began slaughtering the troops using her bare hands. She twisted off heads, punctured throats, and ripped off limbs, as doing so actually required less exertion than firing her weapons; the stamina per shot was far more than the effort needed to bash, rip, tear, or bludgeon a few fleas.

Before long, the troops gave up the fight and started fleeing. They broke ranks, and without any kind of coherent strategy, they all began wildly running off in different directions, each man and woman for his or herself. In total, they'd only had to kill about 20 of them, maybe a few more or less. Anelia didn't bother counting. It really was just like stepping on ants.

Yet, as she watched them flee, the words Alex had spoken to her inexplicably popped up in her mind, and for just a few seconds, they actually bothered her as an uncomfortable feeling spread from her gut to her chest.

Is Denisoa a flea? Is Adim? What about the people of Den of Ziragoth?

She scowled. Why was she letting that moralizing prick get in her head? That was never what she'd meant. Obviously, it wasn't. Gods, she couldn't stand the man. He was such a word-policing asshole. Hopefully, she'd never have to see him again after today.

"Let's go," she said as she activated Tracking Aura. "He's this way."

Alex nodded, then flicked his hand at the area ahead. "After you."

******

Mack saw the man in the big furry winter coat. Oh, he sure did. He saw that man. And he saw him first, too. Mack spotted the man walking down the sidewalk across the street from where he lived. The man had a lit cigarette in his mouth, but his hands were stuffed in his pockets, all conspicuous and whatnot.

And it caused Mack to feel a thrill unlike anything he'd ever felt before.

"That's gotta be the guy, Kace," he whispered to his sister, whose face looked drained and overtired. Much like Mack, she was also thirteen years old. The two of them were twins.

With an annoyed-sounding yawn, she said, "No it's not, Mack. It's just some dude. Gods, I can't believe I let you convince me to stay up all night for this. What was I thinking?"

The two of them were sitting reverse on their knees on Mother's sofa—the good one they weren't supposed to be sitting on—but it was the only one that was facing up against the front window, where they'd been peering out through binoculars almost all night while they held open the window blinds just a crack so that they could spy without being seen.

Kace continued to moan and complain, so Mack felt it was his duty to remind her of their importance. "You heard what the queen said during her last broadcast. She said that all upstanding citizens of Whispery Woods should be on the lookout for people behaving suspiciously." Mack adjusted his binoculars. "So that's what we're doing."

"Mack," Kace said, frustration in her voice, "you're not supposed to take that so seriously. That's just something they have to say. No one is actually supposed to stay up like a total dork and look out their window all night. Also, that's literally just some random guy."

"He sure isn't one of our neighbors."

"So?"

Mack frowned. "So, why would some random guy be walking in a nowhere town like ours at 4AM? And look, Kace, he's coming from the direction of weirdo-ville."

"Weirdo-ville" was the name the two of them gave to their "neighbors" over in the Lonely Meadows, and in Mack's opinion, the name fit perfectly. Kids over there didn't even go to school, and they had no screens or phones.

Sure, Astara's Heart might not have been the most happening town, but at least they had a cinema and a supermarket. But that wasn't even what mattered right now. No, what mattered was the strange individual wearing the baggy fur coat with his hands in his pockets.

Something was up with him. Mack was sure of it.

But Kace, on the other hand? She was looking at him like he was crazy.

"Mack, use your brain. The queen said a group of dangerous people kidnapped the prince. That's not a group. That's one guy. And I don't see any prince. So, there's no way that…hey, what are you…?" Her voice rose dramatically. "Mack! What the hell are you doing?"

Mack lifted his finger to his nose and shushed her. "You'll wake Mom and Dad."

"Maybe I should," she said as Mack hurried over to the locked cabinet near the pantry and entered the code he wasn't supposed to know. The lock popped off, and Mack reached inside, removing the ancient, but miraculously still functioning weapon that had supposedly been his great, great, great-grandfather's.

"You put that back right now," Kace said. "I'm serious. Mack, I know you wanna play the hero, but—"

"Relax," Mack said to her dismissively. "Kace, you should know as well as anybody that, um, this thing is barely even dangerous. At least not to people like us anymore."

This time, it was she who raised her fingers to her nose and shushed him. "Put that back," she demanded.

He shook his head. Instead, he reached in and grabbed a magazine. Right now, in his hands, he held a piece of history and, in his opinion, a piece of art. It was a rifle known as an "H-MANITY-15," though it was so old that even historians did not know who had invented it. The weapon's history was extensive, and grandpa's stories about these guns had always fascinated him.

A gas-powered semi-automatic rifle, this weapon was meant to be chambered with 5.56mm rounds but could also use .223. Of course, neither type of bullet had been in production for hundreds of years, but having been mass-produced centuries ago during one of humanity's wars with the Lizardmen, quite a few boxes were still known to exist, and in small rural towns like theirs, that was often where you'd find them.

Locking open the bolt, Mack inserted the mag and then gave the bolt catch a good bop, causing the action to slide forward, though he left the safety on. Of course, his real weapon was sheathed by his right side. And that was one he wouldn't dare take out unless he absolutely had to. Hopefully, the same would go for Kace.

"I'll be right back," he said. "I'm just gonna go take a peek."

Kace looked furious. "Mack, you're insane. You're about to harass or threaten some random guy just for taking a walk."

"I'm not gonna do anything," Mack promised. "I'm only going to have a look and uh…you know, maybe follow him for a bit."

"Mom and Dad are gonna kill you for this."

Mack laughed. "No one can kill me anymore, Kace. You either."

She sighed. "I mean, that's true, but…"

Here's the thing. From the outside, Mack might've looked like an ordinary, everyday thirteen-year-old kid, and his sister, Kace, might've likewise looked like your average rural girl. But looks could be deceiving. Because, believe it or not, the two of them were unlike almost anyone in the world. They were special in a way that so very few people were.

A long time ago, for a reason nobody knew, the spawn points had all been destroyed. So, basically, outside of a tiny, tiny number of super-duper rich guild people who hunted mobs on their private estates, the days when people could roam the land and grow stronger were long gone. Nobody leveled up anymore. It just plain didn't happen.

…or so everyone thought.

But that wasn't true. No, the truth was even more shocking. For you see, in all of this world, there was still one spawn point left. There was one last, final spawn point. And Mack and his sister had actually found it. Yes, for real. Truly! This wasn't a joke or a lie. They really had! And it had been the Gods themselves who'd called upon them to discover it.

Two months ago: that was when it'd happened.

It had begun one night after they'd both experienced a shared dream of the old, disused, underground waterways in the city of Whispery Woods. It had felt so real. So different from any dream either of them had had before. When Mack woke the next morning, he was utterly stunned to learn that his sister claimed to have had the same dream: of the two of them together exploring some underground cavern beneath the city.

At first, he'd assumed she was messing with him. But she swore to him that she really did have the same dream.

And then it happened again.

And again.

And again.

Night after night, the two of them dreamt of themselves in that dark, scary, but undeniably thrilling place. And so, after an entire week of having the same dream, the two of them had decided it must be some kind of calling from the Gods. Together, they'd cut school, taken a bus to the city, and had actually crept into a taped-off construction area so that they could sneak into one of the old waterways near the Leviathan River. Upon entering and activating the flashlight app on their phones, both had been amazed to discover that the place looked exactly like it did in their dreams.

And that had been where the miracle had happened.

It was, without a doubt, the greatest day in Mack's entire life, and it would probably forever go down as such. For on that day, just two months ago, Mack had done something that almost no one had done in probably a thousand years or more.

Without being a member of a guild, he had actually achieved level 2. Both he and his sister had.

Mom didn't know.

Dad didn't know.

Nobody knew. They were keeping it quiet. They were smart about it. At least until they were so strong that it no longer mattered if people found out. For now, they were focused on tactically cutting school days so that they could ride back to the city and keep at it. They were also lying to their parents about hanging out with friends every weekend. In actuality, they were in Whispery Woods, grinding those three mobs over and over and over. And through sheer perseverance, they had managed to climb all the way to level 6 in just two months!

So, yeah. This ancient battle rifle? Sure, it was a dangerous weapon. But to Mack, it was only about as threatening as a plastic spoon.

"Kace, you wait here. I'm just gonna go check it out."

"Pfft. I'm obviously coming too."

"Whatever."

Very quietly, he slipped out the front door and then shut it behind him; this, even as he filtered out his sister's grumbling. She really wasn't happy with him right now.

"Not only are you gonna bother some guy for no reason, Mack, but you're gonna bring attention onto us. We agreed that we need to lay low. What if…what if there are other people like us out there and they come looking for our spawn point?"

"You mean leveled people?"

"Yeah."

Mack laughed. "Kace, the only leveled people that exist are the ones in the guilds and the Elves, and those people already have their own XP spots. There's nobody like us out there. Someone would've found out by now if there were."

"You say that, but…"

Mack disregarded her worry. Instead, he crouched low to stay behind the chest-high stone wall that marked the dividing line between their house and the street. With the rifle in his hand, he kept the barrel pointed at the ground as he stuck his head up just enough to see the man in the fur coat continuing to creep down the sidewalk; the man's eyes were scanning his surroundings in a way that was so obviously suspicious. How could Kace not see it? He was clearly up to no good.

"We're wasting our time out here," his sister complained. "I wanna go to bed."

"Okay, so go."

"You come back too. I don't want you getting into trouble."

"I'm not."

"You say that now, but I know if I leave you alone for too long, you'll—"

Her words ended as muffled gibberish as he removed one hand from his rifle and used it to cover her mouth. "Shh!" he hissed. "The guy's saying something."

"Huh?" she asked as he released her.

"Listen."

With a look of skepticism on her face, she joined him in crouching behind their stone wall and watching the man. He'd paused just at the end of the block in front of their neighbor, Vanta's, house. He was speaking to someone, though there was no one around. It took Mack a second to realize he was likely talking into an earpiece.

"Vaz," the man said while darting his head around. For a moment, he looked right over where Mack and Kace were hiding, so Mack grabbed his sister and dragged her down and out of sight. They popped up a second later when the man looked away.

"Yeah, that's right. This community is quiet. A good place to get a few DEHVs. I'm almost done scouting it out. Huh? What's that?" He looked around again, though this time with a more contemplative expression on his face. "Uh, yeah, I think so, but they're all still asleep. Look, if we got to kill a few, we kill a few. But we're gonna get caught sooner or later if we don't get the fuck out of Whispery Woods. It's worth the risk. We should steal the DEHVs. Trust me. Whether it's from here or that other shitty town, we need to get ourselves some hover vehicles."

The man paused mid-step, and an annoyed, angered look crossed his pale features. "Yes, Vaz, I'm not a fucking idiot. Of course I know we'll be ID'd by the onboard anti-theft systems if we do a rushed hack. But it won't matter if we're gone and across the regional border by the time they figure out it's us. Look, just give me five minutes to surveil this place and get the all-clear, then contact me again, okay? Good. All right."

Even as the man was still speaking, Mack was not-so-gently tapping his pointer finger on his sister's shoulder, hoping she would understand that the gesture was meant to be an intentionally rude "I told you so."

Kace looked dumbfounded: like she couldn't believe that this random stranger actually had something to do with whatever was going on. She still looked like she wasn't convinced. But she had to have heard those words just as Mack had. There was no doubt. This was clearly a bad guy.

"We should call the Elvish authorities," Kace whispered to him after a few moments. "And we should protect Mom and Dad. That guy just said something about killing people."

Mack nodded. "We will protect Mom and Dad. By capturing him and turning him in ourselves."

"Mack," she said, urgency in her voice. "Don't try to be a hero. This is real-life. Call the peacekeepers!"

"We will," Mack replied. "But they'll take time to get here. Meanwhile, this guy could do something crazy. You don't know. Stop acting like a know-it-all all the time."

"Me?" she responded in a hissed whisper. "Mack, I'm not the one who stormed outside with a gun!"

"The gun is the least this guy has to worry about. Okay, I'm gonna go get him."

Mack stood upright, and as he did so, he thought his sister's eyes would pop out of her skull. It was like she couldn't believe the audacity of him. "Tell me you're not seriously going to—"

Even as she was still scolding him, Mack hopped up into a sitting position on the stone wall, then slid his legs over before hopping down. Opening his mouth wide, he then shouted out, his voice loud amid the quiet in the pre-daylight, early morning hours.

"You!" he called to the man, who immediately stopped short and whipped his head in Mack's direction.

The man was a real badass type. That much could be inferred just from the scars near both his bloodshot eyes, and the way he coldly regarded Mack as Mack approached. Despite being armed with a rifle, he showed no trace of fear: none whatsoever. He didn't even seem ruffled or bothered in the slightest. The guy was probably a real hardcore criminal. The sort of person who would inspire nightmares in the average and ordinary.

But none of that mattered, because Mack was level 6.

"What's up, little boy?" the man said to him, a grin forming on his face. "Is that a gas-powered rifle? Pretty neat, kid. What're you doing up at this hour?"

"Looking for you," Mack replied, a grin of his own to match the man's.

Mack felt someone grabbing his arm—his sister. But Mack pulled it free and then gripped his rifle with both hands, though he did not yet point it at the man, as Grandpa had taught him excellent trigger discipline. He always kept the gun pointed in a safe direction unless he intended to fire it, and right now, he was just talking.

"The queen said we should look out for suspicious people," Mack said as he began crossing the street to where the man stood on the sidewalk on the other side. "And also, um, we heard what you just said."

"You did, did you?" the man replied. "Aww, shucks. That ain't good. Sorry about that, little boy. Didn't think any of you people were up and about."

"I was. Just in case you showed up."

"What a coincidence then, huh?"

"Yeah," Mack agreed as he continued to approach.

The man chuckled. "Well, me and my boys are just gonna borrow a few of your DEHVs so we can get the fuck on out of here. And uh, if you and your sister there know what's best for you, you'll want to head back inside and pretend you never saw me. Yeah, that'd definitely be your best option. Otherwise," he continued, his grin turning into more of a sadistic sneer. "I might have to cut your guts right out of your belly."

The man spoke with such intensity, ease, and confidence that it almost rattled Mack. But Mack had to remind himself that that was just nerves due to the man's appearance. In actuality, this man was just a level-1. No matter how trained, dangerous, or violent he might have been, he was only just a man and nothing more.

Meanwhile, Mack could lift an entire DEHV if he struggled and strained really hard. He basically had superpowers.

"I dunno who you are," Mack began, "or why you've come to Astara's Heart, but me and my sis are turning you in."

The man chuckled, though there was menace behind the sound of it. "You are, are you? And how do you plan on doing that, little boy? With that little rifle of yours? You gonna shoot me?" The man opened his arms widely. "Go ahead. Shoot me. Do it."

"I'm not gonna shoot you," Mack said. "But you're gonna surrender."

"Nah, you're gonna shoot me." As if to will such an event into being, he took a sudden, lunging step in Mack's direction, which spooked him and caused him to raise the rifle and point it at the man. He even switched off the safety.

"Mack, I'll go call for help," his sister said. She began backing away in the direction of their house. And it was here that the man finally showed how menacing he really was. It was in the way a darkness flashed across his eyes: one that Mack was unfamiliar with. It was a coldness he'd never seen in a man. He looked at Kace like a predator sizing up prey, and it made Mack both uncomfortable as well as infuriated.

"Like hell you will, little girl," the man said as he turned his body in Kace's direction and began to move towards her.

"Stop!" Mack shouted at him. "Stay away from my sister, pal."

The man ignored him and moved fast—shockingly fast towards Kace, who seemed totally caught off guard. The guy must've been some kind of professional athlete, because he moved so fast that it even took Mack by surprise, and Mack had a whopping eight points in Dexterity.

"I said stop!" Mack shouted at him one last time in warning. He was reaching for something inside of his baggy fur coat. Something that might have been a weapon. Might have been able to hurt Kace! Though she had 4 points into Constitution, that wasn't so much that it made her invincible to a gunshot.

The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.

And so, out of nothing more than fear for his sister's life, Mack made the incredibly difficult decision and decided to shoot. Spurred on by a sudden rush of panic, he pulled the trigger—and was dismayed to hear only a click from the rifle.

Shit! he screamed in his mind. Failure to fire.

He bopped the bottom of the magazine, pulled back on the action, and then, to his dismay, he suffered a failure to eject. He was probably having problems with the BCG. It was a really, really old rifle.

Whatever.

He tossed it aside.

I don't need the gun.

Leaping forward, he grabbed the man just before he could stuff his hand inside his coat and pulled out whatever weapon he was reaching for. And as his fingers grasped firmly around the man's strangely cold wrist, Mack was shocked and alarmed by just how much effort he needed to exert just to yank the man's arm away.

This guy was strong. Strangely strong.

The man stopped in his tracks. He grunted as though to himself, and then, slowly, his head turned in Mack's direction. With the same slowness, his eyes then lowered until he was staring at Mack's hand on his wrist. Then, with one quick tug, he yanked his hand free, and it simply slid out of Mack's grasp.

"You're…you're not level-1, are you, kid?" the man asked, sounding slightly surprised. Suddenly, he barked out a laugh. "You've got to be shitting me. You're one of Donovan's, right?"

"Who?" Mack asked. "Did you say…Donovan?"

"You're an adventurer, right? We got a truce with you people. You ain't supposed to get involved in our shit, and we don't get involved with yours. That's how this works."

"Huh?" Mack shook his head. "I've got no idea what you're talking about." With a feeling of nervous bile rising to his chest, he asked, "Who is Donovan? And how do you know I'm not level-1?"

The man tilted his head to the side. "Are you being serious right now?" He seemed to pause for a moment as if to study Mack, and then he regarded Kace, too. "You two aren't part of the adventuring community?"

"The what?" Mack asked, shocked. "There's no such thing as the—whoah!"

Mack cried out, so did Kace, and so did the man in the baggy coat—even he let out a small yelp as, for no apparent reason, a massive bang erupted from the sky above. And for just a brief instant, a time so short one would miss it if they'd blinked, there was a gigantic orange ring of fire that spread all across the dark sky like a firework explosion, only it was shaped in such a perfect ring that it looked more like the opening of a portal, one that disappeared in the exact instant it'd appeared. And then it faded, and so too did the light.

Something else then flashed across his vision. Something he couldn't decipher. It moved too fast—so much so that he couldn't even really tell what shape or color it was. There was just "movement" in the corner of his eyes, something streaking down from above. Then there were several loud, disconcerting snaps along with a rustling, both of which were followed by multiple giant thuds coming from the wooded area two blocks down. As impossible as it seemed, it actually sounded like several trees had just been felled.

Illuminated by nothing but moonlight, it was difficult to tell, but it almost looked to Mack like a thick black smoke was now rising from that area. It was like a couple of meteors had just struck Galterra or something.

"Wh-what was that?" Kace asked, his sister voicing the same question that was on his own mind.

"No idea," Mack said. "What the hell is going on?" He looked accusatorily at the man, who returned a shrug as if to say he didn't know either. But this look of uncertainty did not last for very long, because shortly after, the man began chuckling sadistically.

"Lots of strange shit going on this morning," he said. "But I'll keep things real simple." He pointed to himself. "I don't know who the fuck you kids are or how it works with you adventurers, but if you're telling me you're not under Donovan's protection, then I've got no reason to let you live. You're in my way, and I'm out of patience. So, either fuck off or die. I've got shit to do."

Mack smiled. wasn't about to let some thug intimidate him. "Oh, if only you knew how big of a mistake you're making, pal. Because just like you said"—he lowered his voice slightly—"I'm not level-1."

"That right?"

"Yeah, that's right. And if you don't give up right now, I swear I'll have no choice but to—"

Something happened. Mack wasn't sure what at first. He heard screaming. From Kace, his sister. She called his name. No, not called. Screamed it. So loudly that it caused all the neighbors to turn their porch lights on. Or at least that was what Mack assumed was happening. He couldn't be sure because there was a loud, deafening ringing in his ears. And he couldn't feel his mouth. He couldn't feel his teeth or tongue, either. He tasted blood. Had he been hit? Had something or someone struck him?

That was impossible. He wouldn't even feel it if so.

Also, when had he fallen down onto his back? And why was the man's shoe pressing down on his chest? Why was he struggling to breathe? Why was his sister screaming out his name? Through blurred vision, he saw her reaching into her waistband to remove her weapon—her adventuring weapon, the Dagger of Whispery Woods, an item that had dropped for them on numerous occasions when they were grinding in the city. They had about seven of them now. She was gripping it with tears falling down her eyes: tears directed at him.

But why?

Something hurt. He wasn't exactly where, but there was definitely at least some pain. But he didn't know how much. It could be a lot or a little. He also realized he was missing something, but he wasn't sure what. Something just felt off about the way the cold winter air was hitting his face.

This…this was bad, wasn't it? Something really weird and confusing just happened, and he suddenly had the sense that he'd been hurt really, really badly, even if he wasn't fully capable of understanding or believing it. In fact, he wasn't even close yet to really registering in his brain just how badly he'd been hurt. The only hint he had was the sheer maniacal look of rage in his sister's eyes as she regarded the man. A rage that must have been due solely to whatever had happened to Mack.

How bad is it? Mack wondered. How bad did I just get hurt?

He was confused. He was disoriented. But worst of all, worse than the pain, the confusion, and what felt like a…a broken jaw, maybe—worse than all of that was the sudden realization that, as impossible as it might have been, this guy, this strange, fur-coat-wearing man…he might not be level-1 either.

Kace!

His sister attacked without any hesitation. She swung her dagger viciously at the man's throat. In the blink of an eye, the man reached into his coat and pulled out a dagger of his own, only his was twice the size and released some kind of green, patchy smoke from the bladed end. With a flash-like movement of his arm, he effortlessly blocked Kace's dagger, and he did so with enough force that he simultaneously sent it flying out of her hand. Then he drew back his arm as if intent on slashing her own throat.

And that was what gave Mack the willpower to get up and move.

"Stay away from her!" he screamed. Or at least he tried to scream. It came out as nothing more than mumbled garbage that sounded more like: "Heyyawayyhuumherr!" Desperate, Mack tried to call out again, but his tongue just wasn't working. He couldn't even feel it at all, actually. Nor did he care.

Because his sister—this man was going to kill her.

Tamping down on his confusion, Mack threw himself at the man, and though he did not succeed in tackling him, he did at least slam into him hard enough to put him off balance so that his dagger narrowly missed ripping apart Kace's throat and instead only sliced off one of her ears, a sight so horrible and unexpected that he felt like his stomach had just dropped out of his body and landed on his feet.

But Kace didn't even seem to notice. She launched herself at the man as though in a blind rage. Mack tried to scream at her to stop, but all he did was spit out what looked like a tooth and a piece of tongue. Yet with his adrenaline spiking, the sight of it had no emotional impact, and he was only even distantly aware of what he was seeing.

But through it all, Mack nevertheless realized that this was almost certainly going to be the moment that he died.

Out of love for his sister, and because this was all his own fault, he leaped at the man, intent on wrapping his arms around him and holding him as best he could, if only to prevent him from attacking Kace. But the man, clearly having gotten angered, reacted far too fast for Mack.

Even while Mack was still soaring towards him, the man threw out his hand and caught him, which stopped Mack in his tracks as the man's fingers grabbed Mack by the throat tightly enough that his airflow was completely off. At the same time, the man snapped up his foot and kicked Kace in her chest as she was charging at him, and he watched as his sister was sent flying backward until she crashed into the stone wall and went through it with a loud crunch. Not a second later, the man raised his arm, and Mack, squirming with his throat caught in his grasp, felt his feet begin lifting off the ground.

I can't breathe! Mack thought, becoming panicked as he rose higher and higher as the man lifted him up.

The grip was so tight that not even a tiny gulp of air made its way through his mouth or nose, and immediately, he began feeling dizzy as he started kicking his feet and struggling frantically. He slammed both his fists down on the hand gripping him, and when that failed, he tried to claw and scratch. He needed air. Gods, he needed air! He began to see spots in front of his eyes. He felt like he might fade away in just another second.

A moment later, however, the man looked off in the direction of their home, where his sister was unbelievably back on her feet and rushing at him yet again. This prompted him to draw back his arm and then throw it forward, essentially tossing Mack away like a piece of trash. Mack wasn't even able to cry out in pain as he was slammed down onto his back so hard that he cracked through several feet of sidewalk and felt a tingling sensation in his toes and fingers.

But at least it meant the man had released his throat—and he could breathe.

Mack gasped for air, choking and tasting blood as he did so.

"I'm annoyed and I've got shit to do," the man said as he looked down upon Mack with cold, uncaring eyes. "So I'm just gonna end you right here and now." The hatred in his gaze intensified. "You wanted to play hero, little boy? Huh? Wanted to get in my fucking way when me and my buddies already have enough shit on our plates to worry about? Where'd that get you, huh?"

As though he could spot the terror in Mack's face, he added, "You're realizing it now, aren't you? That you're not special. That you're not the only one out there besides the guilds who've leveled up." The man smirked. "Must suck to find out this way, right? Fucking serves you right, you piece of shit. Now you die, and so does your sister."

Kace, already beaten up, screamed out and rushed at him, but this time, the man merely backhanded her, yet just that alone contained enough force to cause her head to snap backwards and a spray of blood to shoot out of her nostrils as she collapsed onto her back.

Witnessing this, Mack screamed out in misery. The sight of his sister's nose breaking was almost enough to get him back to his feet. But something was wrong with his body. He couldn't move. In fact, it only occurred to him right now that he was making a constant choking sound—like he was choking on his own blood.

"S…shap," he begged, unable to speak properly for some reason. "Sahp pweese."

"Nah, it's too late," the man said. "I warned you little shits. Now you got me all flustered and I actually want to kill you. Imagine that. Hate when kids don't listen." Though he ostensibly spoke those words to Mack, his eyes were shifting in a different direction.

Once again, Kace was inexplicably in the process of getting back up to her feet. And she looked even angrier now than before. And yet, Mack had the sense her anger wasn't at the fact that she'd been thrown, bloodied, and battered. All of it seemed to be because of something she saw when she looked at him.

No! Kace, don't! Stop!

Mack pleaded again. Or at least tried to. For the sake of his sister, he tried to beg. It was all he could think to do. If his actions got him killed, then so be it, but not Kace. Not her. She shouldn't have to die for his mistakes.

With the whole bottom of her face having turned crimson from the blood leaking out of her nose, Kace rose back up to her feet on wobbly legs—and the man noticed. Mack tried to scream at Kace to run, but all that came out was a gargle and some metallic-tasting blood that trickled down his chin.

"I don't like children," the man said. "So maybe that's why I don't feel bad about this. To be honest, I never feel bad about killing people. Maybe I'm just defective that way." He looked at Kace and smiled at her. "Watch closely, sweetheart, I'm gonna stomp down on your brother's face and get pieces of his brain all over my shoes." He laughed. "Then I'm gonna dismember you! Bet you wish you would've just fucked off when I told you to, right? Bet you wish you would've just listened the first Gods-be-damned time!"

Kace made an animal-like growl and charged at the man, but the man merely threw out his palm and grabbed the front of her small face, stopping her short. Using his fingers like a muzzle, he fully extended his arm and held her right there at a distance while she stomped her feet down on the concrete and left cracks in it each time, yet she was unable to gain any forward momentum.

While holding Kace at bay, the man again looked down at Mack, and the two made eye contact.

Oh no! Oh Gods, no, please! I don't wanna die! I don't wanna die!

He raised his foot so that it was positioned right above Mack's face. And it was in this moment that Mack realized this was really happening. That this wasn't something he could avoid. That this wasn't something he could stop or control.

Right here, in this moment, in the second just before this man stomped down on him, Mack was able to understand and become fully cognizant of exactly what was about to happen to him, and it caused his fear to flare to its absolute highest level. An instant before the end, all he knew was terror and an extreme, desperate desire to survive—to live. But more than anything else, he was afraid.

For himself. For his sister. For all that he had been about to gain and experience. For everything he'd wanted, would have wanted, and would now never know. Because he had so many hopes. He had so many dreams. And just like that, they all now came to an end.

For no reason. For no damned reason, his skull was caved in and crushed. He barely had time to say a final prayer to the Gods before the shoe slammed down, crashing right through his head and flattening it into the pavement the way one might do to a small, bothersome insect.

It was so quick it didn't even hurt. There was just a brief flash. And with that flash alone, his life of 13 short years came to a sudden, disastrous finish.

Just like that.

Right in front of his own home.

It was over.

…wasn't it?

But wait, how was he thinking these thoughts, then? How was he even contemplating this if he was dead? How was…how was he thinking anything at all if his brain had become a stain on the bottom of some vicious thug's shoe?

And what was that voice? He heard a voice. He was sure of it. But who was speaking? Who or what was the source of that angry, outraged female voice that cut through the darkness and fuzziness? What was he hearing? What was he seeing? Somebody was clearly upset. A girl. Kace? No, this didn't sound like his sister. It was different. It was someone else. A voice he was sure he'd heard before. The sheer intensity of the disgust in her words actually gave him the chills.

The voice was accusatory and had a trembling quality to it, one that Mack attributed to a fierce sense of anger and disbelief—on his behalf.

"Were you seriously just about to kill that boy?" the outraged, female voice shouted. "What were you about to do?"

Mack's vision wasn't so great right now. He was seeing double or triple. Even still, he was pretty sure there were two hands in front of his face. They looked like six hands each time they went out of focus, but he was pretty sure there were only just two. And these two hands, they…they belonged to an Elvish girl crouched in front of him, and they were firmly gripping a man's shoe—a shoe that was being worn by a foot that should have stomped down on his skull, but, for some reason, hadn't. Mack, confused, couldn't be sure this was even real. He couldn't be certain that he was still alive.

Is that…?

No way.

It couldn't be.

That's not…surely it's not the…

Mack must've been delirious. He must have been. And badly so, too. Because, to his eyes, it almost sort of looked like the Princess Kalana Vayra was huddled in front of him. One of the most famous girls on the planet and the governor of Whispery Woods. The daughter of the Elvish queen! It looked like she, of all people, was looming protectively over him as though guarding his life against death.

But if this was a hallucination, it was one that the barbarous man also shared, as his face stuffed up with pure panic upon seeing her. At once, all that malice in his eyes retreated, and now there was only fear—and also pain. The man's entire face scrunched up, his lips curled, and he began howling in agony.

"Get off my fucking foot, you bitch!" he shouted out as this Elvish girl seemed to squeeze even tighter. "Argh! Get off, get off!"

"Fine," she replied. Abruptly, she stood to her feet while throwing her arms upwards, causing the man to not only be lifted off the ground, but to flip over twice before crashing down onto the sidewalk on his face. But he didn't stay down for long.

He also didn't stay up for long, either.

With his dagger still in his hand, he wasted no time in lunging at the girl, who really did look just like Princess Kalana. Without delay, he then began slashing his dagger every which way at her, unleashing so many attacks in just a few seconds that Mack realized he'd never stood a chance against this man. The Gods only knew how high a level he must be to have the ability to attack that fast and that aggressively.

And yet, the Elvish girl deftly ducked or stepped around each and every slash. She didn't even bother drawing one of the daggers sheathed at her hips. She simply maneuvered around these frantic slices until seemingly finding an opening. Widening her stance, she then shifted her body forward, shot out her hand, palm open, and struck the man so hard in the face that she beat the snot out of him: literally. A giant wad of snot and blood fired out of his left nostril as he was blown away in the opposite direction. He ended up rolling along the ground.

"It's…it's you!" Kace cried out. He turned his head in the direction of his sister, and merely the motion of doing so made him momentarily dizzy. His vision again tripled, and Mack saw three of her getting up with her nose bloody and her body bruised. "You're Princess Kalana!"

As though only first noticing her, the Elvish girl turned her head towards the sound of the voice, and upon seeing Kace, both her hands gripped into fists, and she scowled.

"Y-you broke that little girl's nose, too!" she shouted, snapping her head back to where the man was groaning on his side.

"My brother!" Kace cried out. "Princess Kalana, please help my—"

"I…I know, I can see. It's gonna be okay."

Mack was confused. So much was going on. The guy was getting up, and now, he looked like a madman with nothing to lose. Yet, even as he shouted out horrific insults and rushed towards the princess—if that was really her—with his dagger raised, the princess was ignoring him now and making her way over to Mack.

More things started happening. Things that Mack's brain couldn't make perfect sense of. Not because they were inherently hard to understand, but because a sort of fog had settled in. It was a real struggle to piece everything together.

As the princess moved towards him with something close to a sense of urgency, the man continued to rush at her from behind, but still, Kalana continued to ignore him and focus her gaze solely upon Mack, who tried to call out to her in warning, which caused even more blood and…oh, Gods, was that a piece of his tongue? Something came out of his mouth. Something that shouldn't have. He knew that much. And it caused his entire body to seize up with fear—and also the princess to hurry towards him.

"Don't try to talk. Shh, no, no, it's okay. You're okay. Just stay there without moving."

Why was she speaking to him that way? Why was his sister crying now? And why wasn't she doing anything about the evil man launching himself at her?

It was the third question that was answered first.

In the split second before the man pounced on top of the princess, he was suddenly "moved" off to the side. And "moved" wasn't really the best word here. It was more like he was blasted with the force of someone being struck by a full-speed DEHV on the highway. It was an Elf who did it—one with a white cloak who looked to be about her age. He came out of nowhere and just banged right into the guy, sending him skittering through the street, where his flung body came to a halt only after crashing into—and smashing in the entire front side of—a parked DEHV, causing its alarm to blare.

But the addition of noise didn't matter, because by this point in time, all the neighbors on both sides of the street had already turned their porch lights on and had emerged to see what the source was of all the commotion. At the same time, there was shouting. Lots and lots of shouting. DEHVs with flashing lights and sirens began flooding the street at both ends: peacekeeper vehicles. Humans with guns were exiting and closing off the road. Helicopters, too, were now buzzing above. And Elves…there were so many Elves!

Mack had gone his entire life without seeing one in person, and now there were about thirty of them right in front of him, with the second-most-important of them, the princess herself, looking at him with a determined sort of concern. Princess Kalana, if that was really her—she was looking at him.

She looked simultaneously wide awake but also tired. Her face was torn, conflicted—maybe even overwhelmed. She said something to him. She actually spoke to him. But he didn't hear all of it, because that ringing in his ears returned. He only caught the very end.

"…gonna be just fine, I promise."

And then it happened. His adrenaline wore off. And with that came the pain.

Yeah.

Something was definitely wrong.

In a second—no, a half second. No, a quarter of a second, Mack realized just how weak and feeble he really was. He immediately began to cry and wail as a pain beyond comprehension erupted within him. His face. It hurt. It hurt so bad he couldn't even describe it. It was a burning and a stretching. It felt wet. Why couldn't he speak? Did he still have a tongue? How bad was it? How bad did he get hurt? It must've been bad. That was why his sister had gone into such a rage, right?

And yet, for all his pain, it must have been nothing compared to the wail that was released off to his right.

"Nooooo!" screamed a devastated woman, one he recognized immediately as his mother. She was looking at him, and his heart broke a thousand times over. The sheer devastation in her eyes. Because of him. "My baby, no. What happened? What happened? Who did that?" She continued to speak, but the despair became so great that her words were incoherent. She tried to run to him, but an Elvish man wearing a green cloak stopped her and held her in place. Another stopped his father.

"Get the fuck off me!" she screamed. "What happened? What did you do? Somebody, please help him. Please! Please do something! I'm begging you! That's my only son!"

Mack was so lost. He couldn't follow what was going on. Why were they blocking his parents?

The princess herself got involved. "Ma'am, he's gonna be okay."

The words didn't seem to convince or console his mother, whose gaze lingered on his face for a few seconds, and then her entire body trembled.

"Don't look at that, please," Kalana said. "We can fix it. We can fix it. I promise you."

She continued to look at his face. And then she screamed.

"Please, ma'am," the Elf said to her as he grabbed her, hopefully gently. "He's going to be okay. He needs medical attention." The Elf looked over his shoulder at a human. "Where is medical?" he shouted.

"It's coming!"

Mack was hurting so bad. He was so confused. He wanted someone to tell him how bad his face was. He was crying. Why couldn't he feel his tongue, or even his lips? His sister was crying too. Two Elves had to restrain her, as she had apparently taken down ten human peacekeepers, with several shouting out, "I don't think she's level-1! Help us!"

"Maaaack!" she screamed. She was pinned on her back by two Elves while a third began using some kind of healing magic on her, tending to her wounds even as she fought. "Maaaaack! Noooo!"

Slowly, with a shaking, terrified hand, Mack raised his hand to his mouth. His fingers felt soaked. His lips. Oh, Gods, his lips weren't right. They didn't feel right. He tried to scream but couldn't. Only, it got worse. He raised his hand higher. To his head.

And that was when Kalana dove at him and grabbed his wrist. "Don't touch it. Do not touch it."

TOUCH WHAT? he screamed in his mind. MY HEAD?

She was now holding both his hands, and she refused to release them. "Don't move. Don't touch it. Okay? You're gonna be fine, 'cause I'm not gonna let anything happen to you, so you don't have to be afraid, okay?"

He was whimpering again. His sister and parents were screaming.

"Whaaa aappenn meee?" he managed to get out.

With no hesitation, Kalana said, "You got a little bit hurt, but we're gonna get you fixed up."

She was lying. Gods, she was lying. It was way worse than that, wasn't it? Why wouldn't she let him feel his own head? Why were the Elves screaming about doctors?

"My princess, at least let us try healing him," the Elf wearing the white cloak said as he approached. Behind him, the man was continuing to struggle and fight, and as a result, the Elves were giving him a beatdown.

"Fuck you, fucking Elvish twats!" Mack heard him shout out as he fought and was beaten and bludgeoned for troubles.

The Elf with the white cloak approached quickly. His lower lip peeled back as though with unease as he looked upon Mack. "We have to try healing him. Now."

Kalana shook her head. "We can't, Trelvor! His constitution's too low. If we heal a level-1 with...with that kind of injury, they'll die. He needs a doctor and a stone."

"B-but we should at least try, no?"

"Not when he's that…" She didn't finish her sentence. It was as though she didn't want him to know how badly injured he was. "You can't push healing through a normal person like you can to a—"

"We're not level-1!" screamed Kace. It caught Kalana's attention. Without letting go of his hands, she looked over her shoulder. "We're not level-1!" his sister screamed again, still pinned on the ground. "We're sorry! We found a spawn point under Whispery Woods and…and we've been leveling there. So please save my brother! Please!"

Kalana repeated the words to herself. "A spawn point under…oh my Gods! That's the one me and Zach…" She shook her head as though to rid herself of the thought—as though it wasn't important now. "What level are you guys?"

"We're 6!"

She sighed. "That's way too low. Your constitution is still too low."

"We must do something," Trelvor said. "We can't wait." He lowered his voice. "The boy's brain is—"

"Trelvor!" she hissed at him.

But it was too late. Mack heard him. His entire body began trembling. A terror beyond any he'd ever known exploded in his chest. He cried even harder. What about his brain? Was it showing? Was that it? What exactly did he look like? How bad was it? He wanted Mom. He wanted to go to sleep. Tears fell down his eyes and mixed with the blood leaking out of his mouth. Everything had just spiraled so far out of control so fast.

"It's okay, it's okay, shh," Kalana said as though to coo him. To this other Elf, she sent him a glare.

"Forgive me, my princess."

He was joined by an Elvish girl, though she had dyed hair and an edgier look. "This isn't our fault. Don't blame Trelvor. Where were you? We came running as soon as we got your ping. You were gone for hours. We needed you."

Kalana opened her mouth, then closed it. Then she opened it again. "Seiley, Trelvor, I…something happened that I can't really talk about. It's related to that kind of stuff."

"Say no more," the Elvish male replied at once. The girl also nodded.

The princess seemed to appreciate their understanding. "I'm so sorry. Believe me, um, the last thing I wanted was to be away for all this."

"Speaking of 'all this,' what even happened here?" the Elvish girl asked.

A brief look of exhaustion came over the princess. "I don't really know. I was really far away, and I only just got back a couple minutes ago. I um, I was supposed to touch down in Den of Ziragoth but…but things became really complicated and she had to get me here in a hurry. As soon as I showed up, though, I heard two kids screaming, so I came to see what was going on. I pinged you guys as soon as I did."

The Elvish male in the white cloak rubbed his chin. "When you say 'she' brought you here, do you mean…?"

Following this question, things somehow became even more chaotic.

Suddenly, shouts of terror and panic filled the street, spreading from person to person until it infected almost everyone around them who wasn't an Elf. Something had happened—something that badly spooked the neighbors along with many—or really, most—of the peacekeepers as well. Mack watched as his neighbors began to retreat, with many running back in their homes. Strangely, quite a few of the peacekeepers even ran inside and joined them as if looking for a place to hide. And while this was happening, the Elves began angrily demanding everyone to calm down as an entire ruckus began to form. They all started shouting out the same thing, too.

"It's just Angelica!" they yelled. "Calm down! It's only Angelica!"

But these words seemed to mean nothing to the peacekeepers or to his neighbors and, really, they meant nothing to Mack, either. But more importantly, if Mack still had the ability to form speech, he too would be crying out the same thing the other humans had begun shouting the moment they laid eyes on the sight causing this whole commotion.

"Boss spawn!" a pudgy man in his pajamas screamed as he ran back inside his house and closed the door. But not before adding, "It's happening here! It's happening to us!"

As the panic spread, Mack realized it was all because a woman had seemingly arrived out of thin air. A woman who—

No way!

What in the name of the Gods?

There was a woman standing in the middle of the street. A beautiful woman with cat ears who clearly wasn't human—or even alive! It was…it was a mob! And not just any mob, but a…oh, Gods, a level-1027 boss! This much, he was able to discern by the words above her head.

Innkeeper Angelica

Level 1027

Yet the Elves did not seem worried. Even as the woman angrily stormed her way over to Mack.

She's coming right for me! I must have aggro!

He tried to get up and run, but Kalana tightened her grip on his hands while promising him that everything was okay.

"Oh, no, no, no!" the level-1027 boss said as she approached. "Kalana, not him! Or her," she said, looking down at his sister, who finally stopped fighting and instead tried to flee as the Elves continued to hold her down.

The boss not only approached, but it came so close to him that their faces almost touched. She knelt down, grabbed his chin, and forced his head to the left, and then to the right as though inspecting him. Then she trembled, and her brows furrowed.

"Who did this to my boys and girls?" she demanded to know.

Kalana's eyes widened. "Wait, so these two really are adventurers?"

The boss nodded. "Yah, but they don't know it yet. Nobody's come to induct them because the adventurers have been really slacking lately. Ever since Donovan and the others went off to Albion-4, Zephyr's been struggling to hold everything down." She again looked at Mack, and now, her frown deepened.

"He's gonna die. No way he makes it to a hospital with his brain exposed. He should already be dead after taking a hit from Explosive Fist III right to the head. But his will to live is so strong it's raised his HP. We gotta take him to my inn, yup. We'll be able to save him there."

Kalana's face seemed to brighten even as Mack's fear and worry exploded. "Really, Angelica? You'd do that?"

"Oh, of course!" the boss replied.

"But wait, I dunno if that's a great idea either. Even if you get a few stones from the other adventurers, they don't work the same on people with low constitution. They take a lot longer and it's not as simple as just using them. I remember, 'cause that's why Zach needed surgery after the dragon hurt him. Or when Prila got hurt."

The boss raised her hand and made a waving motion. "Oh, don't worry about that. I'm not planning on using any of their stones."

"Then how're you gonna—"

"I'm just gonna take care of it."

"Take…care of it?"

"Yeah, I'm just gonna take care of it. I'm just gonna cheat and heal all their HP using power from my inn. Right now, Adamus's attention is completely focused on…on that. He won't even know I broke the rules. It's a rare chance to do something like this." Following those words, her voice abruptly darkened as she said, "He also won't know about…about this."

"About what?" Kalana asked as Angelica backed away, turned around, and stormed over the sidewalk and towards the street. For a reason Mack could not understand, Kalana's eyebrows rose, and she finally let go of his hands so that she could scramble up to her feet. "Angelica, no!" she yelled. "Don't! Please don't! Stop!"

Mack watched as she walked halfway into the street where the Elves had finally subdued the fur-coat-wearing menace. Then he continued to watch as this boss, this "Angelica" made just a casual flick of her wrist, and the eight or so Elves surrounding him were blown away as though by eight invisible, shoving hands.

The man looked up at the boss, and Mack could tell from his expression that he had no idea who she was either. "What the fuck?" he shrieked as the boss screamed at him.

"You bastard!" she shouted as she lifted her boot and then did the same exact thing to him that he had been going to do to Mack.

And unlike him, she actually succeeded.

Now, Mack's brain wasn't the only one showing. And at least his—he hoped—was still intact. The same couldn't be said for his assailant. For sure, there would be no putting him back together. With just one stomp, his head exploded like a watermelon hit by a shotgun shell, but even then, the boss continued to stomp until a pool of blood formed at the top of his shoulders where his head used to be.

"Angelica, why?" Kalana yelled at her. "You don't got the right to do things like that! You…y-you can't just kill people!"

"Today I can," Angelica called back, a growl in her words. "I love you, sweetie, but you're too soft, and he had it coming." As if to emphasize her point, she even spat on whatever was left of his skull. Then she marched back over to Kalana, who did not seem very happy.

"But he might've had valuable information! You dunno what you just did! What you cost us! He might've been able to lead us to—"

"Anelia and Alex already found them," she said.

"Wait, really?"

"Yeah. Or…or no, but they're about to." She tilted her head to the side. "And uh, based on what I'm reading, they're also probably gonna die. Actually, now that I'm lookin' into it? Yeah, they're definitely gonna lose. Bad. So you should probably help them, Kalana. They won't even stand a chance. Alex and the bounty hunter are toast if you don't save them."

Mack had no idea what they were talking about, and he didn't really care, either. He was too concerned by the fact that this level-1027 mob, who could somehow speak, was kneeling in front of him and reaching out to him. But not to hurt him, as he discovered. No, she simply grabbed him and hugged him and then even kissed his cheek.

"Poor little boy. I'm so sorry about what that evil man did." She released him at once, stood up, and turned her body to face his sister. Now, her expression turned serious. "That girl," she said, her words coming across as stronger and more forceful. "She's special. More than any of you could ever understand."

Kace's mouth parted, her lips trembling as this boss-person became the focus of her attention. And though her words were meant for Kalana, she stared directly at his sister as she spoke.

"This girl," she said again, pointing at her. "Kace Halforth. She's the sixth-most-powerful being in the universe. At level 35, she becomes a Berserker. Oh, you guys are gonna flip when ya see that happen. Prila picked this one two months ago. That woman's the best I think the OMP has ever had. Ah…normally I can't tell you that, but…" She shrugged. "Nobody's watching right now. So uh, bring her along too. I'm demanding they both get inducted today. Trelvor, Seiley, mind giving me a hand?"

Mack's parents struggled and screamed, and so did he, as the Elf with the white cloak lifted him up, carrying him away somewhere. "Ih huurr," he moaned.

"I know it hurts," the Elf whispered. "Be at ease, and be brave, human. You'll be better soon. Very soon."

Mack doubted it. He doubted it very much.

******

Anelia stormed off in a hurry, not even bothering to ensure that Alex followed behind. For the first time since this whole ordeal had begun, her heart had begun racing, and her nerves propelled her onwards with an uncontrollable lack of patience, something that she was very unaccustomed to. But she simply couldn't help it; she was closing in on Vaz, which meant she was closing in on Adim.

And so now, in what also came as an unexpected jolt, Anelia began thinking things she'd never before thought in all the years she'd been alive. Her mind, which had always served her well in high-stakes situations, began torturing her with questions that, once upon a time, she couldn't even begin to imagine herself pondering.

Questions like: what if they already killed Adim? What if he's hurt? What if he died and his last thought was wondering why Anelia or his mother didn't rescue him? It was these terrible, unwanted questions that caused her to move faster and faster through a dark world while she followed an awkwardly winding and hitching yellow pathway that only she could see.

"Anelia, be careful," Alex said, confirming to her that he was indeed keeping pace.

"Huh?"

"Watch where you're going."

Anelia deactivated Tracking Aura, then grunted her thanks to the man as she almost walked directly into—and through—the front door of a modest, two-story home, in which case she likely would've knocked the entire door off its hinges and spooked the family inside—assuming they were even still alive.

They're definitely not, she thought. Not a chance.

Given how few homes there were in the Lonely Meadows, and taking into consideration how far apart one was spread from the next, the fact that the path she was tracking had led her here almost certainly meant bad news for whoever lived at this residence. And although there was no obvious sign of any kind of disturbance or break-in, the path clearly went through—and beyond—the wooden front door and into the home before looping back out again and veering off on a mostly southward path.

This meant that Vazzal had entered the home, but not by force, and then he'd left again.

"What's wrong?" Alex asked her. "Did something happen here?"

She nodded. "Vazzal was here. Inside this house. No sign of forced entry, though."

Alex sighed, and there was regret in the sound of his exhale. "That," he began, approaching closer until he stood right next to her, "is because people in these parts don't tend to lock their doors." As if to prove his point, he turned the knob and swung the door open.

Then both he and Anelia released a joint grunt of disgust at what they spotted just past the foyer. It was yet another family, an even larger one, their bodies clumped together inside. Vazzal had been here all right.

"Let's keep on him," Anelia said, turning around. "We're very close now."

Alex joined her. "Just keep your guard up. I appreciate your confidence, Anelia, but I still think we need to be—"

Anelia didn't even bother to let him finish speaking. She was already hurrying through the early-morning darkness, her feet stepping down on dried grass and twigs as she trekked up a slope and then hurried down the other end. Having once again activated Tracking Aura, it was difficult to see, as it was still around two or three hours to sunrise, and the ability darkened her vision to begin with. Still, she refused to slow.

With each step, she walked just a little bit faster. Eventually, her walk turned into a jog, and then her jog into a full-on sprint. Driven forward by a gut-wrenching panic, she found herself chasing the yellow line in a mad dash. At several points, she heard a loud snap, which she simply assumed to be a tree being uprooted for having the audacity to be in her way.

The world whipped by in a frenzy as she raced after that yellow line. She must've been very, very close now. Her instincts told her so. She could practically sense it. But even then, she did not slow. No, she only ramped up her pace even further. She was completely unconcerned with whether or not the kid could keep up with her. The only thing she cared about was saving Denisoa's child: saving Adim.

Where is this rat bastard? she shouted in her mind as darkness and a yellow, rapidly moving streak were all that she could see. Everything else had become just vague shapes and shadows. From their basic outlines, she gathered that the most recent snapping sound was a fence she'd darted through, and then after that, a shed.

She didn't even care if she ran through someone and killed them. She should care. She knew she should. Kalana would want her to. Denisoa would want her to.

But she didn't.

Where is he? How has he gained so much distance so fast?

It was only as she found herself shooting through tall stalks of grass and emerging onto the highway that she found her answer. At some point, they must have stolen some DEHVs—which meant they were willing to risk being tracked and identified by the onboard theft protection. Disabling the first layer of protection—the layer that prevented unauthorized use—was easy. But getting rid of the ID-theft systems? That took weeks in many models. So, for them to take such a risk, it meant they must be getting desperate. Of course, so was she. Her breathing had become a bit heavier, and each pulse of Tracking Aura drained more of her stamina; obviously, she couldn't keep up this pace forever.

I'll last for as long as I need to!

"Hey, kid, are you still with me?" she asked as she pumped her arms and burned her way across the highway, moving at over a hundred miles per hour. She actually could have moved faster if she wanted to, but even she wasn't so crazy as to attempt that on a public highway.

"I'm here," Alex said, his voice shockingly close, especially since she could easily hear him while moving at such a great speed. The kid was clearly pretty capable; she had to give him credit for that much, at least.

Then again, he was an adventurer before he joined the guilds.

"Whatever they're driving, we're probably going a lot faster than they are," Anelia said. "We should be coming up on them any—wait a second. Kid, I think that might be them!"

Anelia saw it. She finally, at long last, saw it.

The yellow path—it did not end, but rather, it was created by a vague, shadowy form. The yellow path emerged from this form at a constant rate, meaning that, whatever shape she saw, it was likely the DEHV speeding along down the road, and it was generating the path that she was following. She'd never seen her ability "form" this way in real time. It was a first for her.

Having at long last found her mark, Anelia deactivated Tracking Aura, and the world returned to its normal color and level of light as the yellow pathway faded. Now, she raised her finger and pointed. "That blue DEHV truck," she said to Alex. "About a mile ahead of us."

"What about the other three DEHVs nearby?"

"Probably part of the same entourage. Adim and Pete are definitely in one of those cars." Anelia scowled. "Let's find out which ones they're not in and bulldoze them. I'm serious, Alex." Even while blazing forward, she drew her guns. "I'm gonna fucking murder every single one of those—"

"W-wait!" Alex cried out, surprising her. Anelia, even while rocketing down a highway at over a hundred miles per hour, turned her head around to look at Alex, who, for some reason, had removed his phone and was holding it up to his ear.

"Thank the Gods," he said. "It's Princess Kalana. She's returned my call. And she wants to help."

"Where the fuck has she been?"

"No idea," Alex replied. "But does that really matter right now? Anelia, we should slow down and wait. I've already told her where we are."

Anelia growled. "I can't. I'm not risking letting them get away."

"You don't understand," Alex said. "We actually can't win by ourselves. Kalana just informed me."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"There's this…okay, this is difficult to explain. But an NPC you wouldn't know named Angelica, who has access to information beyond our comprehension, performed a battle assessment utilizing the strengths and—"

"Get to the point!" Anelia snapped. "I didn't ask for a fucking book report!"

Alex frowned. "A being infinitely more capable and wiser than us has determined that, if we attempt to fight them alone, we will die."

At this, Anelia barked out a laugh. "Then the being's a fucking idiot."

"Anelia, I don't think you—"

"Just watch, kid. Just watch."

With her guns drawn, she forced her legs to move even faster, and now she at last began running fast enough to damage the pavement, causing chunks of it to rip up with every step she took. This, even as Alex voiced his strong disapproval and called to her to slow down. He seemed to trust in some "being" more than her.

Idiots.

Anelia didn't care who or what they were referring to. It was impossible to "calculate" who would win in a fight to the death. She'd been in more than enough to know that for certain. In order to calculate that, you'd need to assign a number to her rage. And she was pretty sure it was impossible to assign a value to infinity.

No one was stopping her. She was getting her boy back.