The car's roof couldn't support its full weight on my remaining leg and tore away, careening to the ground below. A couple of seconds after the car started falling, the mayor jumped out of the fresh hole in the roof, kitted in some sort of body-armour, which seemed especially thick on the shoulders and around the head, and had some sort of large mechanism on the back. Don't tell me he had a parachute? He had no-one watching the skies in the city, yet had come equipped with a parachute? And apparently anti-harpy armour? The thickened bits were obviously designed to protect my usual grabbing locations, although pretty much everything had some protection, aside from his open eyes. He spun around in mid-air, a long-barrelled weapon pointing straight at me.

This was... not good. Apparently, having half of my limbs explosively removed wasn't quite as crippling as it would be for a human, but I couldn't fly freely, and this guy was still armed. Why, when I house-sat that meth house, hadn't I taken any guns from the previous residents? I need ranged capability, dammit! I did my best, using my remaining wing to slow my fall, to make myself a smaller, more distant, moving target for whatever weapon the mayor had. He would need to open his parachute at some point, and then I could strike from above, out of his sight.

I saw his finger move as he started to pull the trigger, and with a flap of my wing and a big pulse of whatever magic it used, I forcibly pushed myself to the side. There was another roar, and the air shimmered, but it seemed I'd avoided it, or at least no more bits of my body were evaporated. Then the mayor pulled something on his side, and the back of his armour unfolded.

Upside, he didn't have a parachute. Downside, he had some sort of winged jetpack. On the whole, I felt that this was not an improvement for my situation. He didn't seem to be particularly manoeuvrable, but neither was I. I didn't seem to be bleeding, which was nice, but neither were my missing limbs regenerating at a rate fast enough to matter for this fight.

Despite the situation, I couldn't resist grinning. The first shot had been a cheap one, yes, but that was my fault for giving him so long to prepare. I should have dropped the car immediately. He wasn't fighting me with cheap tricks, but with proper human ingenuity. Strength of mind was a type of strength too, and the harpy side of me fully respected that. I hadn't thought of myself as a battle junkie, but apparently I couldn't help but get excited at the thought of my first fair fight.

"You fight well, human!" I shouted, my voice carrying well through the high air, and I saw his eyes open wide in surprise. Of course; he had no idea I could talk, did he? How long would it take for my wing to regrow enough to get back my agility? And I knew it would regrow; I could feel it. How much fuel did that jetpack of his have? How much time could I buy? "A better fight than Maximilian put up, for sure. He wanted to give me the world, you know. At least you seem less of a madman."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

His eyes narrowed, but it seemed he wasn't going to take my bait. He aimed his weapon again, but at least his surprise had given me the chance to take my distance. I evaded the shot easily. What sort of recharge time did that weapon have? Did it have limited ammunition? I saw the car impact the floor below, exploding into a fireball and leaving just the two of us.

"Harpy got your tongue?" I goaded. Not that I was sure I'd hear him, even if I did coax him into talking. Apparently my modified voice carried well through the air, but his probably wouldn't.

Okay, if I couldn't provoke him into wasting time until my wing heals, I was going to need another plan. I had no ranged capability, but if I got close to him I'd have no way to evade his weapon. He'd gone a while without firing it now, but I didn't believe the recharge time was that long. More likely, he was trying to goad me into counter-attacking right after one of his attacks.

I spun out of the way as he finally launched another blast, then he started flying towards me. He must have realised I wasn't going to close the distance, so was attempting to do so himself. In my crippled state he was faster than me, so there was nothing I could do about it. Hmm, ingenuity, huh? Maybe I could improvise a ranged attack. I spun, and with my back to him, used my foot to slice off the tip of my remaining wing. It stung, but that was a small price to pay to detach the three claws. Severely limited in the limb department, I could only grab one, needing to let the other two fall.

I dived towards him and watched him grin as he brought up his weapon. I spun before he had it in place, using the momentum to fling my severed claw, and then flapping hard to push myself to the side. His shot still caught me, taking a chunk from my torso, burnt fur and flesh mixing in with the smell of blood.

My claw had also found its mark, piercing deep into his eye and into the brain behind. He didn't have the capability to dodge, and hadn't expected it to be needed. As far as I could see, his equipment had been designed to counter a templated version of a harpy, one that was limited and predictable, not one capable of planning and subterfuge.

He lost his grip on his weapon and tumbled out of control. I wasn't certain that had been a kill shot, although even if not, from the depth my claw had penetrated he was certainly going to suffer lasting brain damage. I manoeuvred towards him again, and plunged a talon deep into his remaining eye, clawing at the brain behind. That'll teach him to have exposed spots on his armour.

Satisfied that no human could have survived that, albeit still keeping both eyes open in case he wasn't, I grabbed him by the head and dragged him to the ground, aiming for a copse a distance from the car wreckage. I needed time to recover, and no doubt there would be minions of his crawling all over the crash site imminently.

Trying to peel him open with one leg wasn't fun, but I managed it, eating up the juicy flesh within. Canned human. There was a definite market segment open there.

I kept the head, though. I'd be needing the head shortly.