“And who are you, commanding us with such authority?” Nick asked. Cataloger was the quicker of the two to answer.

  Aranni: Level 11 Human

  Archetype: Priestess

  Special Classification: Deity Blessed (Vaan)

  “I am Aranni, blessed priestess and servant of the god-king,” she said, and pointed her scepter. “And I have been told of the Sinifel relic you carry. You are tainted, the both of you. Now, kneel if you wish to preserve your lives.”

  Frost’s right hand drifted to her sword hilt.

  “I don’t think we will,” she said.

  Both soldiers rushed simultaneously, one slicing for Nick’s waist, the other thrusting for Frost’s chest. Nick lunged backward, drawing Sorrow while flinging his left hand forward. A shot from his palm, striking the nearest soldier before arcing to the other soldier and then the priestess, staggering all three. Frost parried the attack aimed for her, and when the lightning hit her foe, she pushed his sword farther out and then dashed in close, her left hand pressing to his face and helmet.

  Spell: Icy Tomb

  Frost shoved him to the ground, where he writhed and clawed at the ice sealing away his face. As he suffocated, Nick watched in horror and awe as his health steadily drained away.

  The distraction nearly cost Nick his life. The other soldier rushed with his sword held in both hands, a powerful chop aiming to cleave Nick in half. He flung Sorrow in the way, deflecting the trajectory, but not enough. The sword struck his shoulder, punching a tear into the leather. He screamed as he bled from the wound, losing just shy of a quarter of his health. Reacting on instinct, he slammed Sorrow straight at the man’s neck. The obsidian blade punched a hole in his breastplate to take away the last of his life.

  Clutching his wound, Nick glared at the priestess, who glared right back with her yellow eyes wide. She held her scepter high above her as her hair billowed in a nonexistent wind.

  “Vaan is with me!” she shouted, and slammed the scepter down.

  Circles opened in the ground all around them, their centers pitch-black, their outer rings gleaming with gold and sparkling with intricate fractal shapes. Nick dove immediately, needing nothing beyond base instinct to know they were dangerous.

  Spell: Vaan’s Embrace

  Swords of pure light emerged from the holes, blade first, and flew to the sky. Nick twisted as he dove, trying to avoid them and only partially succeeding. One pierced the side of his thigh, tearing through flesh in a bloody spray that seemed at odds with the beautiful gold. Nick hit the ground with a gasp, clutching the wound with his free hand as the pain hit him. A quick check to his right, and he saw Frost hadn’t endured the spell cleanly, either, blood dripping down her pristine silver chain mail from a shallow cut across her neck.

  “The god-king is my strength!” Aranni continued, lifting her scepter. The frozen sands within the hourglass blazed with sudden light, and she pointed it straight at Nick.

  “Nick!” Frost screamed, diving in front of him to land on her knees. Her palms slammed the ground, summoning her . It formed about them, a protective shield. Through the distorted haze of the ice, Nick watched a solid beam of golden light shoot from the scepter, the front of it hardening to form a spear tip.

  Spell: Faith Spear

  The light struck the ice, spreading cracks but failing to punch through.

  “You all right?” Frost asked, still crouched.

  “Could be better,” he said, then heard the priestess chanting once more. His eyes widened. “Move!”

  More circles beneath them. More swords shooting to the sky, to explode in a shower of light that sprinkled downward like spent fireworks. This time, the pair avoided the hits, but multiple swords streaked through the ice dome, shattering its magic and rending it to dissipating frost.

  Attack, you dimwit, Sorrow shouted in his mind. Or will you let the heretic’s priestess strike you down unmolested?

  Nick hated to agree with the sword, but there would be no enduring more of this. He lifted his hand, and when Aranni chanted anew, he shot a straight for her chest. It struck true, and most importantly, the sudden constricting of her muscles robbed her of speech. Not daring to let her recover, he sprinted straight for her, a second bolt leading the way, this time hitting her in the stomach. The priestess’s eyes widened, and she staggered in retreat. Frost denied her the chance, latching about her ankles to root her in place.

  Her scepter swung toward him as she cried out to her god-king.

  “Vaan be—”

  Sorrow easily batted the scepter aside on its way to her throat. The blade sank deep, pouring blood down her immaculate white robes. Her eyes bulged, and her mouth opened and closed, wordlessly protesting her coming death. She dropped to her knees, then collapsed.

  As Nick pulled Sorrow free, a familiar and decidedly unwelcome sensation struck him. His movements slowed, the removal of the bloodstained blade agonizingly sluggish as it withdrew from flesh. Golden light faintly sparkled off his skin as he turned his gaze down the street, to where Sir Gareth approached with his sword drawn.

  Gareth: Level 13 Human

  Archetype: Knight

  Special Classification: Deity Blessed (Vaan)

  Armor: Augmented Chain Mail, Quality Tier 7

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  “You would bring your slaughter here, too?” Gareth asked. His grip on his sword tightened. “There is no hell hot enough for what you deserve.”

  As Nick slowly, slowly lifted his sword, he heard Cataloger helpfully chip in.

  Per your request, Sir Gareth seeks to kill you due to the slain villagers at Meadowtint

  “Thanks,” Nick muttered, sounding drunk in his own ears.

  You are welcome

  A lashed out to wrap ice around Gareth’s legs. It slowed him only a moment, but that was enough for time to resume its normal flow around Nick.

  “Time to go,” Frost said, grabbing his wrist as Gareth smashed the ice around his legs with his sword to free himself.

  “What about Violette?” he asked between breaths as they sprinted through the streets of Greenborough. Bystanders cried out as they pushed through, some in anger, others in fright.

  “Pray she hears the commotion,” Frost shouted, “because we can’t wait for her.” She pointed. “Soldiers ahead. Follow my lead!”

  She waved her hand, casting another spell.

  Spell: Icy Ground

  The three soldiers rushing toward them stumbled as a thin sheet of ice coated a wide area in front of Frost. Unable to properly set their feet, they were unprepared for the brutality they faced. Frost dashed into their center, the ice seemingly nothing to her as she spun and twirled, her sword a whirlwind. Nick attacked with far less finesse, holding Sorrow in both hands and chopping straight through the collarbone of the nearest soldier. The blow struck true, instantly killing him.

  A thrust through the throat, then a chop across the stomach, and Frost ended the lives of the other two. She banished the with a snap of her fingers, then glanced over Nick’s shoulder. Her eyes widened.

  “Keep for the east exit,” she shouted, once more taking the lead. Nick dared look and saw Sir Gareth charging toward them like a furious rhinoceros decked in golden armor. The sight was enough to add a burst to Nick’s step, and he pretended not to notice the steady drain of his stamina. It was certainly better than when he first arrived in Yensere, but he feared that at the pace Frost demanded, he would not last to the east gate.

  Shops and homes passed by in a blur as the wooden palisade surrounding the city grew nearer. Two more soldiers rushed to block the way, their shields held high. Sir Gareth was much too close to risk a prolonged fight, and both Nick and Frost knew it. The pair unleashed a combined attack, his leading in a bright flash, followed by twin . The combined damage brought the two soldiers down, and they rushed past the corpses without pausing.

  At least, that was Nick’s intention, but then his stamina hit zero. He staggered as if stones had been lashed to his wrists and ankles. His chest ached, and his heart pounded in his chest. His every gasp of air was loud in his ears, and he struggled to even call Frost’s name as she raced ahead of him.

  “Wait,” he managed. She glanced back, realized what had happened, and skidded to a halt.

  “Shit.”

  Nick chuckled as he turned. “Indeed.”

  Sir Gareth arrived with a rattle of armor. If he was winded from the sprint, he certainly didn’t show it. He redrew his sword and pulled his shield off his back as he stalked the pair.

  “More dead at your hands,” he said. “And now you find others to join you in your slaughter.”

  Nick lifted Sorrow, and he flashed a cocky grin.

  “I’m just trying to live,” he said. “You’re the one coming for my head.”

  Frost joined him, her own sword raised.

  “This isn’t going to be easy,” she said softly. “And the longer we fight, the more guards will arrive.”

  Nick braced his legs, lightning crackling around his fingers as he prepared the last of his mana. Frost hadn’t seen her yet, but Nick had. It was only guards coming to help. The pair just needed to keep Sir Gareth’s attention their way.

  “We’re not good enough friends for you to be this persistent,” Nick shouted as he flung a . Gareth blocked it with his shield, and Nick was dismayed to see that it somehow reduced the damage to a pitiful fraction.

  Shields protect against many types of attacks, both physical and magical

  Of course they do, he thought as Frost followed up with a new spell he’d never seen before.

  Spell: Frost Orb

  They flung at Gareth like little cannonballs. The knight weathered the barrage with his legs braced and his shield held high. The metal held, and even worse, Gareth suffered not a scratch, only an inconvenience of ice exploding around his feet as the magic broke down.

  “Ice,” he said when the attack was done. “You were at Hulh Manse, weren’t you?”

  “Might have been,” Frost said, and flung an at his face. He sidestepped it in a blur, so much faster than someone his size should be. Nick chased him with two more , rapidly burning through his mana while accomplishing little. Gareth’s shield was always at the ready, reducing the combined hit from the two spells. The storm weathered, his gaze hardened, and he jammed his sword into the street to lift his right hand.

  “Then you both deserve my judgment,” he said. An orb of light shimmered into existence as he muttered a prayer to his god-king.

  “May heresy be burned,” he said, and threw it.

  Spell: Purge

  The orb flew between Nick and Frost, then detonated in an explosion of ringed light that swarmed with intricate runes Nick could not identify. The runes washed over him, and he screamed as his every muscle locked tight. His entire body felt aflame, even as his skin went untouched.

  When it passed, he dropped to his knees, his health down to a third after being drained by the spell. He wasn’t even sure what damage had been done to him, only that he felt hollow and weak inside. Though Frost was stronger than him, he suspected she was equally dazed, given the sag in her stance and the shaking of her sword.

  Yet the distraction had been enough. Despite his weakness, Nick pushed back to his feet and grinned as Violette, unseen behind Gareth, lifted her hands to prepare a spell of her own.

  “Not bad,” Nick told the knight. “Our turn.”

  Spell: Fire Plume

  The flame washed over Gareth in a massive jet, charring his white cloak instantly. Flesh peeled, and he screamed as he thrashed, baffled and overcome by the fire that burned away at his body. When the spell ended, Frost followed up immediately, sending an straight into his chest that sent him flying past Violette down the street. Gareth landed in a heap of rattling chain mail, smoke wafting from underneath the metal.

  “You didn’t kill him, did you?” Violette asked, spinning to face where Gareth lay. Nick stared at her as if she were insane.

  “You’re worried about him?”

  She clutched her hands to her chest and shrank into herself.

  “I don’t like killing. Especially people.”

  “The whole city is after us,” Frost said, rushing to grab the other woman by the wrist. “Flee now, feel bad later.”

  Thankfully the eastern exit wasn’t far, but a new problem awaited them when the trio came sprinting. Five soldiers stood guard in front of the closed double doors, barring all traffic. They lifted their shields and readied their swords upon seeing the trio’s approach. A prime target for lightning, but Nick’s head was a pounding torment. He had nothing left, and he suspected Frost had also been pushed to her limit.

  “I got it,” Violette said, as if sensing their hesitation. She hooked her hands together, thumbs and forefingers interlocking, and pushed them ahead of her.

  Spell: Searing Wrath

  The ball of fire flew ahead of her as if launched from a catapult, aimed for the space above the five soldiers. The moment it struck the brick archway above the closed doors, it detonated like a bomb. The ground shook. The wall cracked and broke, the doors splintering to pieces. Sticky hot air billowed outward, preceding the flame that followed. The soldiers screamed in terror, diving in all directions before the fire could overwhelm them. The way clear, Violette dashed into the inferno, dismissing the rolling flames with a wave of her hand.

  Holy shit, Nick thought as they raced after her. Remind me to never get on her bad side.

  Request noted—how frequent would you like this reminder to occur?

  Nick did not answer, only laughed like a maniac as the trio exited Greenborough at a dead sprint, to leave the city far behind and enter the wilds of Yensere once more.