“And why would I do that?” Brock’s voice came out low and slow, an octave deeper than it usually was. The anger within wasn’t exactly hidden, but it was tightly bound. He noticed the woman’s hand twitch slightly, itching to throw another needle toward him.

She was on a hair trigger, most likely aware of the power disparity.

Brock spared a glance for Margo, eying the needle poking out of the side of her neck and the tape that had been secured over her lips. Their gazes locked, and he could see the terror within. There was also a small gash on her throat, a thin trail of blood dribbling out. Clearly, she had been threatened. Despite that, it was becoming exceeding clear to Brock that she was just the lure.

This was a trap.

The woman masked by shadows breathed out and levelled her gaze. Subtly, she adopted a ready stance, “Because it concerns the safety of your sister. Or at least the sister of who you claim to be.”

Brock narrowed his eyes. It wasn’t all that hard to tell that the woman had suspicions that he was a Skin Walker. Most people would – and should - these days, so he didn’t blame her. Although the part about his sister’s safety certainly had its intended effect, “…Jane?”

“Yes. She disappeared roughly a month ago, and our Patriarch requests your help to save her.” She stepped a little further out of the darkness, revealing pale skin and European-Asian features. Her attitude made her seem like an asshole, but she was still quite pretty, nonetheless, “Regardless of who you actually are, however, I was not asking for you to assist us.”

Idly, he noticed that he could now sense her aur-

A needle flew past his cheek quicker than even he could react, drawing a thin gash across the flesh, “I was telling you.”

He flinched.

Brock’s eyes hardened as the shadows bulged and warped to swallow her the next moment, and she disappeared without a trace, her aura hidden once more. He hissed a breath through his teeth. Now was not the time for a fight, not while the town was struggling against the horde, “You aren’t working with that dickhead Maxwell? Genesis?”

Her voice echoed from all angles, or more accurately, each section of darkness that surrounded him. Almost hopefully, he attempted to feel the shadows of the area with his aura, but somehow, she left no trace to track, entirely masked, “They’re imbeciles, and infiltrating them was far too easy. Don’t rope me in with them. I’m only loyal to my clan and my Patriarch.”

Brock felt a bit of tension ease from his shoulders at the confirmation she wasn’t working with Genesis, although he supposed that could have just been a lie, “So… what? We just leave? Let all these people die?”

He noticed Margo tense up at his words.

“The world’s a shithole. You have to choose who’s important to you, because at the end of the day,” He felt her aura appear behind him, and a dagger slick with a shadowy Augment found itself rested against his throat before he could so much as flinch. He couldn’t even see the blade’s edge, but he could tell it would slice through him effortlessly, “…you can’t save everyone.”

“So then you’re just like Maxwell then, huh? You’re not even gonna try?” Surprisingly enough, Brock felt the knife’s pressure on his neck waver slightly. Quickly though, the woman seemed to regain her resolve and it dug in deeper than before, drawing blood.

Her words came out harsh and quiet, almost as though she didn’t want him to hear her, “Perhaps. But for my clan, I must.”

The next second, the darkness around them began to twitch and bulge like he had seen it do prior. The tentacles of black were cold as they crawled up his legs and rapidly moved to envelope them both. Brock snorted, “If you’ve been watching me, then you know sticking to shadows is a shit idea.”

It was almost instantaneous as Ethereal Shackles activated and its spectral chains rose up out of the jointed shadow. Whatever teleportation Technique the woman was trying to complete failed immediately and the tentacles burst into wisps of black, floating idly through the area before dissipating.

He heard her yelp behind him, and he stepped away, before spinning around and looking on as his chains slowly ate through her bulky combat armour, pinning her down against the floor. Her narrowed eyes rose to meet his, and they portrayed shock, probably at the fact that he had used his ability inside her own.

It was unexpected. He snorted once more, “Yeah. Fuck you.”

His hand was stuck in a claw grip as he discarded the woman for the time being and wandered over to Margo. She was frozen stiff, and it didn’t take much looking for Brock to realise the needle in her neck was the reason why. Unable to use Oppressive Might simultaneously, he tightened his grasp just enough to pinch the needle out, and a hiss of pain rang out from his captive.

“Margo, you ok?” it took a few seconds for her to respond, but she nodded quickly. He sighed in relief and winced as the woman ripped off the tape stuck to her mouth. He could feel his Technique losing its durability as the seconds passed and it was only a matter of-

Abruptly, there was no more resistance in his palm and his fingers clasped shut, his chains snapping down into the shadows without a sound. Brock frantically looked behind him, afraid he had just gone and killed her, but was left stunned when he found that she was no longer there. All traces of her aura were gone, and she had just simply disappeared.

If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

She went back into the shadows…

Brock clicked his tongue in annoyance and helped Margo to her feet. She quickly preceded to yank the needles from the necks of the other two men in the room, though they had been knocked out cold like he’d sensed and were yet to wake up.

The woman gave him a massive hug the next second, and he was left stunned once more, “Thank you. Thank you so much. I… I thought she was going to kill me.”

Brock wrapped his only arm around her and gave her a comforting pat on the back, “Hey, it’s ok. Hopefully she pisses off.”

They broke the half embrace, and Margo nodded rapidly, obviously trying to convince herself that he was right. He led her out of the building, and they made to re-join the efforts. Brock licked his lips, stewing on the choice he had essentially just made. He wasn’t really trying to, but he had made a decision, nonetheless.

The woman had given him an option; Jane, or the people of this town.

Brock ran his fingers through his gore coated hair and hissed out a harsh breath between his teeth. He had made a choice. The choice to save these people. And that’s what he was going to bloody do. Jane… she would be ok. He had a feeling deep in his gut. Nothing more than hope really, but it was a feeling regardless.

Beside… I doubt that that woman is gonna go anywhere. She’ll be here when it’s all over. A cold sweat dripped down his forehead. I hope.

Margo thanked him once more as they approached the wall, and he had shifted from trying to console her to humbly deflecting her gratitude. Maybe that shadow assassin was right. Maybe you couldn’t save everyone, but still, he was going to try. Simply because he had the capability to.

The men and women atop the wall gave their arrival a prompt cheer, and no one noticed Margo’s minuscule neck wound, hidden by the hem of her shirt that she was raising up to hide it. Brock panned his eyes over the battle, eying the growing amount of corpses, mostly insect, although there were quite a few humans mixed in too.

A surprising amount of the Swarm Guards had been killed, some by teams of melee combatants ganging up on them, or even by Harry, brutally carving his way through their chitinous armour, though it was more an exchange of blows than a one-sided slaughter in his case.

There were even a few that were run through by the massive ballista bolts his oversized crossbow used, bleeding out and dying slowly. For the most part, Harry was taking the brunt of the swarm, attracting the majority of the Guards and leaving others to pick up the scraps and deal with the rest on their terms.

The boy was struggling, but as the insects thinned on all fronts, more and more people were moving to help him. Brock even saw Fon further down the wall launching arrows toward the Guards on Harry, managing to even hit their soft joints and eyes. It was a rare occurrence, but it definitely happened. Fortunately, Harry’s flesh was too strong for her inaccurate archery to damage.

He certainly would have been a considerable amount more wounded otherwise.

For the most part, the battle seemed to be somewhat under control, something which brought Brock relief to no end. As long as he could finish off the giant insect off, the battle would be won, and this would be one more town among many that he had along his journey. If everything went well, that was.

The massive insect in question was still chittering feebly in the distance. He could sense the overwhelming strength of her aura even from the kilometre or so he stood away from her, and he knew that while she seemed like she was dying, she still had a bit of fight left in her. Still, he felt she would die soon.

She didn’t really seem to intent on approaching the town, instead leaving that to her minions. She just seemed like she wanted to rest, staying as still as possible and prolonging the inevitable. Brock knew better, however, and to him, it felt like the beast was stalling. Whether it was to heal up or so a portion of her aura could seep even deeper into the ground, he had no idea.

Margo had already retrieved herself a bow from down at the base of the wall and was doing her best to rain arrows down on the many enemies still present. Brock ultimately let the matter of the Tyrant go and dropped down off the wall. For now, he’d assist with the people down on the ground, as they truly needed the help. His original target was currently indisposed and heavily wounded, and he doubted she’d be coming back into the fight for quite a while. Idly, he felt her aura flare.

Harry looks like he needs some h-

Brock fell to his knees, retching.

Behind him, he heard a cacophony of thumps as several men and woman leaned over and collapsed from the wall and onto the ground. Harry was forced down to the dirt, blood dribbling freely from his eyes and nose, and Brock could sense that an immense number of people were currently unconscious.

The earth shook violently, causing the scorched landscape to crack and split, revealing small divots and chasms. Within his chest, his Augment of Sparks fizzled and flickered, just barely keeping itself functional. All around him, the beasts of the swarm simply popped and burst into steaming piles of gore. Only the Guards remained, and even then, their armour shattered without warning and out oozed their blood.

Then finally, Brock felt it. It was immense and inevitable, like a tsunami. The aura bore down on his back like a flogging, bursting hundreds of his blood vessels from the mere pressure resisting with his own aura inflicted him with. He felt the red leak from his eyes and nose in squirting streams, splattering down onto the dirt beneath him. His muscles twitched and his joints buckled as Brock tried to stand, but it was to no avail.

The area heated up by several degrees in an instant, causing a sweat to break out on Brock’s forehead. He could taste the overpowering flavour of an Augment in the atmosphere, and oddly enough, it was one that related to his own Augment of Sparks quite closely. Yet, it was also unbelievably more powerful, trumping anything he had ever felt before.

Wisps of flame scoured the landscape, licking at the earth and tainting it carbon black. Small maelstroms of energy formed and dispersed, tornados of fire whirled about at random, and the sun suddenly felt heavier in its heat, more scorching. More punishing. Brock felt it all and more, and slowly, he felt himself begin to understand.

Cracks and chasms were rapidly filled with magma from beneath the Earth’s crust as they formed, instantaneously converting the entire landscape into one massive safety hazard. The unconscious or indisposed men and women couldn’t even stop themselves as they fell into the lava, melting silently, unable to scream in agony or plead for help, paralysed entirely.

Brock felt the bones of his neck groan and pop as he forced himself to look upward and into the distance. He witnessed the ground explode in a torrent of magma and soil, showering down on the earth like it was the raining vestiges of Armageddon. Brock almost didn’t have enough brain power to notice that the explosion occurred right at the cavern.

…So she was… a symbiote. His brain struggled to piece even that together.

The Tyrant of the Swarm wasn’t truly the boss of this scenario. No, she was just the appetiser, the mere servant of what was slowly unveiled as the shroud of dirt and debris fell. He saw the insectoid queen shrink to the ground in reverence, shaking with obvious fear as a monstrous figure prowled out of the dust.

A single name flickered above, and Brock felt his heart stop.

[E] Gor’eth Kung, the Tyrant of the Underworld (LVL 104)

And when it roared, he felt his consciousness threaten to slip.