ENOUGH. Nic roared, projecting his power into his voice.

Instantly the wind was thrown back. Stillness and muteness were forced over the world, as if Nic’s hand had clutched the throat of the wind and strangled it to silence.

“Are you going to kill me for speaking the truth?” The heretic asked, sounding amused.

“No.” Nic growled. “And not for being an arrogant, long-winded ass, either.” He spat into the grass. “But I need you to shut up so I can think.”

“I’m afraid there’s no time. The messenger has arrived…”

The elf had awoken. Feverishly, faltering, the man crawled out of his miserable shelter and took a knee in front of Nic. His whole body was pale and dripped with cold sweat; there were shiny places on his face where his skin had been burned by unseen fires, leaving the flesh with the distorted quality of a half-melted candle.

“I…”

Nic reached into his bag and drew out a healing fruit, pressing it into the man’s hands. “Don’t talk. Eat. It will make you better.”

A soft wheeze escaped ruined lips. “It’s too late…” The man said. “I’m done for…”

“It is true.” The ghost admitted in a small, sad voice, as if noting that the weather was poor today. “The energies of your new Dao have poisoned him. The desert is a place of death now…”

“The ghost…” The man was coughing each time his words faltered, and each cough brought up sticky, dripping stalactites of drool hanging off his chin, dark lines of clotted blood hanging within. “The ghost guided me through… I was… I was allowed to pass…”

“Yes yes, because he was an elf, you see. She likes her own kind.”

Nic gave the ghost a sharp glare, before turning back to the man. Digging out a knife he began to cut the fruit into pieces and squeeze them for their juice, dripping it from his fist into a waterskin. “If you can’t eat, drink.”

The man took the water thankfully, although Nic could hear him struggling to breath between gulps.

As he put it back down his eyes had achieved a moment of clarity. There was no hope in that gaze. “Before I die, I have a message to deliver. I’m looking for Winterhome…”

“You’ve found him. Tell me.”

“The portal won’t close. Poison is… leaking into our lands… everything withers and dies…” He coughed one final time, and something broke inside. Wet froth full of pulpy meat pushed through his lips. The man began to choke, his chest squeezing, his hands groping at the dirt.

It was agony even to watch.

Nic rose, picked up his saber, and delivered a single sharp downwards cut. The man fell still.

“Tchh.” The Heretic made an unpleasant clicking sound.

Nic wheeled around. “Don’t even try me.” He said, with full venom. “It was the merciful thing to do.”

“Oh, I know. I’m not disappointed in you- but the messenger only got half his message out. He was also supposed to tell you about the quest.”

“What. Quest.” Nic was very much reconsidering his choice to let the Heretic live.

“A quest given to the elves, and anyone who approaches the portal. A quest to claim the Heartstone of the Aleph, whatever that may be. That was his final message, which was considered important enough for my fearsome captor to let me go, so that I could guide him here, to you.”

“Your captor?”

But the Heretic only laughed. “My duty is done…”

“Don’t you dare…” Nic warned.

“And I cannot waste any more time!” The ghost dissolved into a drizzling beam of mist-light and shot away into the trees and darkness of the forest. Nic snarled, kicking off- his speed blurred the world to a smear of green and black as his hand reached out to snatch the heretic’s misty shape from the air.

But if there was one thing Nic’s new prowess at leaping didn’t do for him…

It was let him turn mid-air.

The beam of light twisted away, escaping Nic’s reach, and Nic continued in a straight line.

He crashed into the dirt, feet skidding as he tried to change course, kicking up earth and muddy water in a great scratch across the swamp’s surface. Finally managing to brace himself and leap again, Nic shot after the ghost-

But the Heretic already had a commanding lead. And now it swerved and zig-zagged through the forest, around trees, changing directions at will. Nic was clumsy in comparison, like the charge of a pain-maddened bull. He crashed through in straight lines.

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“Gwungo!” Nic called out. “Leash!”

Instantly the living armor responded. It sprang from his arm and wrapped around a tree, forming a living grappling hook. As Nic hit the end of the line he spun, twisting his trajectory without stopping-

“Release!”

Gwungo let go and Nic’s feet briefly touched the ground, rebuilding his momentum with a sprinting run and a leap.

“Leash!”

“Release!”

“Leash!”

“Release!”

Now he was finally gaining, swinging around the trees to chase after the misty streak of escaping light. Nic’s feet hit the sides of massive redwood trunks, pushing off against them to gain speed without touching down onto the ground. Pinballing from one trunk to the next he took on an agility that almost felt like flight.

The wind poured past his skin as he closed the ground between him and the Heretic, leap by leap, turn by turn. He could feel the desperation in his prey’s movements, trying harder and harder to throw him off its trail.

His hand reached out, preparing to snatch the heretic from the air-

And then they both slammed into a sticky, invisible layer of webbing, harder than iron and softer than silk. Spiderweb.

Both of them crashed down to the forest floor, entangled. For a moment Nic rolled, sticky threads tying him to the earth. The ghost was under no such restraints. It dissolved and reformed, preparing to escape-

And the moment it shrank into a misty beam of light, Nic teleported into its path and caught it out of the sky with a single hand.

It was like catching a butterfly. There was a frantic wriggling motion within his fist, snaking tendrils of mist escaping out through his fingers.

“Stop.” He declared. “Or I’ll crush you.”

There were three muffled thumps behind him. Nic turned, his danger-sense already screaming, and saw three bulky figures had dropped from hidden places in the forest canopy.

They were hideous.

Bulky, flabby gray skin covered in oil and the texture of pebbles. Tiny, lightless eyes on stalks. Mouths full of pink ‘teeth’ that were really flexible spikes of keratin. They were vaguely humanoid, with massive arms and legs like tree-trunks, their entire bodies rising towards where their skulls were contained within helmets of spiny snailshell.

A spider crawled down from the trees, lurking at the smallest one’s heels like a trained puppy.

Masticator Snail-Folk. E-Class // Sapient. Named for their pseudo-teeth, this breed of lowly snail-folk possesses the ability to consume almost any substance and render it down to Essence, their preferred meal being living flesh. Ferocious fighters, their flabby bodies are almost unkillable.

Three E-Classes…

All three of them with Shards.

Nic was surrounded, and while escape seemed like his best option…

Some part of his stubborn soul just wanted to see how he’d measure up against three opponents in his same Class. Nic drew out a bottle and shoved the Heretic inside as the three brutes surrounded him, moving to cover all sides; one of them spoke in a burbling voice, frothing bubbles emerging from its mouth.

Nic drew Peacemaker.

Two of them had nothing for weapons but crude clubs. That was to Nic’s advantage, none of them had crafting Shards or proper equipment. The third carried a massive spiked mace that Nic guessed was a System-given prize, and wore armored plates across his vitals, which Nic would say came from the same quest. They shared a certain spiky appearance…

Three against one…

Nic moved first. Peacemaker spun around his body, overhead and around his back, flickering in a trail of white bone and red flame. He began to weave his steps back and forth, mist emerging from his body until he was surrounded by a shroud of green-blue. Within that mist, dozens of Nics seemed to exist simultaneously; they formed a perfect circle with weapons pointed out in all directions.

Within the power of the Mistwater Step it was impossible to tell which Nic was real.

The one with the spider at its side acted first. It opened its mouth and a massive tongue burst forth, taking the shape of a serpent made of emerald-green aura.

The serpent lunged into the mass of mist, seeking for Nic’s throat. With a single strike Nic cut its head away, dissolving the summoned beast into aura, but that was enough to give away his position.

Another snail moved, dropping down to all fours and spitting out a wave of sticky bile across the earth. As it rushed towards Nic he simply-

Disappeared.

In a single teleport, Nic appeared beside the creature and sliced upwards through its throat. The massive weight of its gelatinous flesh prevented him from hacking all the way through, but he left a deep cut and came away with his blade soaked in yellow blood.

The snailman spun around, flinging its heavy fist towards Nic’s face. He stepped back, but the fist became an open palm, holding a single shard of metal. That shard flew outwards and sliced across Nic’s throat in a blazing arc of steel.

A bag at the snail’s side tore open and more shards erupted from within, surrounding its body with a halo of sharp metal.

Like comets falling from the sky, three shards broke away from the chain and flung themselves at Nic in rapid succession. He wove left and right, summoning mist and illusions…

The shards bit into the skulls of false-Nics, leaving him free to step past the snail, reverse his grip on Peacemaker, and stab down twice into its leg and guts. The first blow crippled the limb, sending it toppling down to one knee. The second blow ripped open its entrails.

But as Nic spun Peacemaker in his grip and swung for his opponent’s lowered head in a downwards, decapitating hack, the metal shards flowed through the air to form a shield.

Realizing the blow was already nullified, Nic teleported away as his danger-sense screamed.

A moment later a massive spiked macehead drove into the ground where he’d been. The snail-folk were strong and sturdy, but not fast. In the time it had taken them to cover the ground to help their ally, Nic had nearly been able to kill him…

The goal was to split them up.

A serpent shot through the air, aimed for his back. Nic evaded by driving Peacemaker into the earth and flipping up onto the haft, doing a neat summersault over the attack-

And vanishing midair.

He appeared upside down over the attacking snail-folk, hands already drawn back. In the blink of an eye he executed two perfect palm-strikes; the Hand of Ash reached out twice, sealing his enemy’s aura in place and smashing into that bulky gray body with massive force. The snail was hammered into a crater formed in the shape of Nic’s palm.

As Nic dropped back to the earth, the other two were already turning, preparing to charge for his back.

But in their path, Peacemaker stood in the ground like a flag of conquest.

“Go get ‘em.”

An unearthly roar shook the forest as the spirit of Peacemaker emerged…