Ryke stepped in, his right hand gripping the knife while his left was balled into a fist.

  The woman threw three punches, but they lacked experience and power. Ryke saw the openings easily; he lunged, slicing her abdomen. The cut wasn't deep enough to be fatal, but it didn’t matter.

  'As if this wasn’t unfair enough,' Ryke thought, stepping back just in time to see her wounds knit back together.

  He went in again, landing two straight punches. He ducked a wild swing from one of the backups and barely parried a sword strike a moment later. 'They aren’t that fast,' Ryke realized. 'All I need is the throat.' he added.

  But before he could make his move, the fight was brought to him. A man swung wildly from left to right, aiming for Ryke’s head. Ryke slipped both attempts, kicking the man back before he could get too close to Veryn and Neyra.

  “You’re getting too close,” Neyra warned.

  “You’re getting in my way. Stop speaking,” Ryke replied. He repositioned his knife; instead of pointing it forward, the tip now faced right with the edge toward the threat. The grip gave him the versatility to punch or slice at will.

  He leaped, ducking under a swinging blade and driving his knife across the man's neck, slicing just below the Adam’s apple.

  “Sword or knife?” Ryke asked with a grim smile.

  Three more appeared, all carrying swords.

  “I think I’ll have some fun. Come on now—I’ll just use the knife,” Ryke said, sprinting toward them.

  He disarmed the first man and slammed an elbow into his ear. As the man staggered from the force, Ryke targeted his leg. He kicked with such violence that the tibiofemoral joint shattered, the leg buckling unnaturally. But as Ryke tried to pivot away, a blade caught him, slicing deep into his thigh.

  “Know what? I... I want to kill you. No, I’ll murder you last,” Ryke said, clutching his thigh. Blood began to soak through his trousers.

  He looked up for a minute, shifting his weight to his right side to compensate for the injury. His left hand gripped the hilt tightly. “Relax, Ryke. We’re still killing them all,” he muttered, taking deep, steadying breaths.

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  He stared them down, but before he could move, a figure blurred behind the enemies. Steel flashed, taking heads clean off—except for the one closest to Ryke.

  “Toney?”

  “Are you alright, boy? It’s havoc out here.”

  “You killed them... but it’s okay, I still have this one,” Ryke said, tossing his knife aside.

  “I told you, I’m gonna kill you,” Ryke said. As he spoke, Hollow was emerging, the hilt in Ryke's palm, all his senses starting to return too.

  Watching from the house, Neyra peered through the structure . “Mmm, Sherlyn... that was you.” neyra said looking at her.

  ............

  “This will do,” the Guild Master said. He picked up a hammer with his left hand while his right wiped blood from his face. His eyes were locked on the five men in front of him, all of them possessed by those glowing green eyes.

  He gripped the weapon and swung it with terrifying ease, as if he were an Olympian in a hammer throw. The head of the hammer smashed into the middle man, squashing his skull together with the stone wall.

  We are not done, the Guild Master thought, dropping the hammer and snatching up a sword.

  One of the men rushed him. The Guild Master side-stepped the wild swing, kicked the next man square in the chest, and parried a blade all in one motion. He rocked the man with a left hook and spun around, creating enough centrifugal force to swing it arrogantly, slicing through the lunging attackers neck.

  “Yo, remember when I asked if the Guild Master could actually fight?” one man whispered, peeping through a window in the house.

  “I remember something like that,” the other replied, eyes wide.

  “Yeah, well... I take that back. He should never hear I said that.” They watched as the Guild Master buried his sword in another man’s chest before parrying two desperate attempts from the lone survivor.

  The Guild Master immediately swept for the legs, switched his stance, and sliced the man's throat clean.

  “You’re losing it, Jrabic.”

  “Shut up. I’m a better person now. I’m protecting my people,” the Guild Master replied to the voice in his head. He stood alone, his sword buried in the heart of the dead, his boots standing in a widening pool of blood.

  “Funny thing about that hammer... I couldn’t even carry it. It’s heavy, man,” the watcher remarked, seeing the Guild Master seemingly talking to himself.

  “I know. Let’s move. There might still be more of them,” his friend replied, watching the Guild Master depart.

  “Not everyone was from here,” Joe said, standing over the body of a fallen woman.

  “Should be the other kingdom,” Eddie replied.

  “Maybe it was an all-out attack. I hope that’s the end of it. Killing fellow adventurers isn't part of the job—especially the good ones,” Joe said.

  “That one... I remember him,” another added, pointing at a man whose face had been split in half. “We drank together once after a good quest.”

  “Let’s bury them,” Eddie said solemnly. “The families shouldn't see them like this.”

  ..........

  “You killed her?”

  “We never gave you the authority to do that, Leon.”

  “Aisha wasn’t going to help me, and she was going to die anyway. I just hurried the process,” Leon replied, looking at the elders without a hint of remorse.

  “For all it’s worth, we thank you for the help,” Azeya said, stepping back. Tork’s body lay nearby, unconscious and broken.

  “Not a total waste,” Azeya muttered, walking out.

  “Yes,” Leon agreed, a smile spreading across his face. “Not a total waste.”

  ..........

  “Huh. I’ve been looking for one man all this time. The fact that I thought it would be easy was the only waste,” Darmian said, taking a massive gulp of beer.

  “Hey, scratch my back, man. I promise I’ll return the favor!”

  “ we scratched you too, boy! Give it back!” two men shouted nearby, leaning over a table.

  “Give me time! I’ll lend it back!” the first replied.

  “Is that so?” The second man leaned in and delivered a sharp slap. The sound made Darmian smile.

  The man stood up, but in his drunken daze, he tripped.

  The two guys moving away but now there was a new pillar to help.

  Darmian found himself suddenly soaking wet, drenched in beer. He froze for a minute before letting out a long, frustrated sigh.

  ...........

  “Varok, we need the girl soon. A little girl has you this riled up? Maybe we should just give the job to another.”

  “I’ll kill her. After all, I killed the parents already, didn’t I?” Varok replied, looking back with cold eyes. “I’ll kill Dakota. Just give me a little more time.”