The black bear hybrid headed directly to the Abbot’s quarters. He was obviously familiar with the way to get there, as he did not miss a single turn while running through the corridors.

There were not many monks still up and about in that area of the monastery at that time of night, but those that were, immediately made way for him while bowing their heads.

Finally, he reached the Abbots quarters. Without stopping, he burst through the door that had already been forcefully handled by Wukong earlier. With a loud cracking noise, the top half of the door detached from the wall to lean drunkenly at an angle.

“Oh! It’s you, Master Black Wind! What a surprise, hahaha!” said the Abbot, as he flipped the velvet cloth over the revolver.

The Abbot had reacted quickly in his attempt to hide the revolver, but he had not been fast enough. A single glimpse of the revolver was enough to divert Black Wind’s attention.

“What’s that? Pass it over!” said Black Wind, as he barrelled forward, reaching for the cloth.

With surprising agility, the Abbot grabbed the revolver, still wrapped in the cloth, and rolled backwards. Somehow, he managed to extract the revolver from the cloth, then levelled it at Black Wind.

For a moment, both of them froze. The Abbot’s face was set in a terrified grimace. Although cold sweat burst out across his forehead, his hands on the revolver were steady. Black Wind’s eyes narrowed, gaze darting between the Abbot’s face and the gun in his hand, all the while tensing and gathering strength in his furry legs.

At some unspoken signal, Black Wind charged forwards while flipping the table between them towards the Abbot. Almost reflexively, the Abbot pressed the trigger on the revolver.

BOOM!.The revolver went off, flew backwards out of his grip, and smacked him in the face. Stunned, his hands scrambled as he tried to recover the gun, but he was too late.

CRACK! Black Wind broke the Abbot’s neck efficiently and easily. Having rid himself of the threat, he checked himself for any holes, before looking around. He spotted a hole that went completely through the heavy table he had flipped at the Abbot. He eyes opened wide as he broke out in cold sweat.

He had thought that the table would be enough to protect him. Who knew that it was so much more powerful than normal guns? Luckily, the Abbot missed!

After picking up the revolver, Black Wind studied it. When he saw the chambers in the cylinder, his eyes widened.

Six chambers? That meant six bullets! And it looked like it wouldn’t need reloading between every single shot!

Grinning happily, he rushed back to his cave. This was a gift that was so much better than a double-barrelled pistol. He was sure to be promoted this time!

***

Darkness abated as dawn approached. A gust of wind parted the thin screen of smoke hanging over the area, revealing Wukong, breathing heavily while leaning on his quarterstaff, Trip still secured on his back. All around him were the broken bodies of the monks that had attacked his Mistress and himself. Some were sticking out of nearby walls or roofs. Some had pieces of wall or their weapons sticking out of them. Not a single one was left standing.

A soft noise caught his attention. Slowly, he walked over to a pile of bodies. Kicking over the topmost body, he revealed a weakly wheezing Brother Broad Wisdom. One of his hands was clamped over a wound in his chest that had the rear portion of the double-barreled pistol sticking out of it. His other arm was obviously broken, as were both his legs. Despite his condition, he glared at Wukong as though he would try to bite Wukong if only he had the chance.

Readying the quarterstaff, Wukong prepared to deal a killing blow, but a smaller hand reached over his shoulder, gripping his arm.

“WAIT.”

It was as though her arm wasn’t even there. Not showing any sign that he had heard or felt her, Wukong struck.

“Suffer not an enemy in thy camp!”, growled Wukong.

The end of a quarterstaff broke a bloody hole in Brother Broad Wisdom’s head. He died with his face frozen in a glare, eyes still on Trip.

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At the same time, Brother Mender arrived with a group of monks. Some of them were paralyzed with shock. The rest moaned or screamed at the sight of the broken bodies of their fellow monks littering the area.

Alerted by the movement and sound, Wukong withdrew his quarterstaff from Brother Mender’s forehead. A powerful twist of his wrist caused blood, bone and brain matter from the quarterstaff to spatter on the ground. Growling, he brandished it at Brother Mender and the new group of monks.

Brother Mender raised his empty hands in the air, giving the universal gesture of surrender. The monks around him copied the movement.

“Sister Trip, Wukong, I come in peace. I swear, I mean you no harm. As you can see, I and my brothers here are unarmed. Please, let us help you and our brothers.”

“Wukong, they’re no threat. Let me down.” Trip patted Wukong’s shoulder.

Suddenly obedient, Wukong did as she asked. Trip stared at the unpredictable monkey, deep in thought. Soon, she shook her head. She would have to figure him out another time. There was something much more urgent she had to take care of.

Examining Brother Mender, she felt that he was being sincere. Based on the earlier interaction between him and the Abbot, she deduced that there was no love lost between them. Under Trip’s gaze, Brother Mender remained calm, almost exuding goodwill and earnestness.

“Take me to your Abbot. It’s time for me to collect my gun.”

“Certainly. Are my brothers here allowed to move freely?” asked Brother Mender. The monks around him still had their hands in the air, staring at Wukong and his dreadfully gory quarterstaff in horrified silence.

Trip nodded. “Make it fast. And make sure everyone here knows, this is the result of trying to harm us.”

Turning to look at the broken bodies of his misguided brothers, Brother Mender heaved a heavy sigh. A part of him had feared that this would happen, the moment he began to consider how Brother Broad Plans would retaliate in response to Wukong’s insulting treatment.

After repeated reassurances from Brother Mender, the other monks were finally convinced that putting down their hands wouldn’t launch Wukong into a homicidal rage. Timidly, with constant glances at Wukong, they went about the tasks of checking on the fallen monks and carrying them off. Others went to deal with the smouldering remnants of the surrounding buildings.

With obvious impatience, Trip interrupted Brother Mender as he was in the middle of giving instructions.

“Let’s go. Now.”

***

The aftermath of the Abbot’s fight with Black Wind lay before them.

Brother Mender checked on the Abbot, sadly shaking his head. Wukong scurried all over the room, trying his hardest to find Trip’s revolver. But Trip was already certain that it was gone.

The broken door. The signs of struggle. The single bullet hole in the table. The lack of blood. The Abbot’s obviously broken neck. The lack of any other wounds on the Abbot’s body.

Obviously, the perpetrator was someone, or more likely something, monstrously fast and strong. Fast enough to have avoided the Abbot’s first shot, then reaching the Abbot before he could get off another shot. Strong enough to snap the sturdy Abbot’s neck as their first and last move.

Worst of all, that something taken her revolver. Her FATHER’S revolver!

For a moment, just the tiniest slice of a moment, Trip felt like snatching Wukong’s quarterstaff and ramming it down his throat. Or up his nose.

But no, that would be… unproductive. Furthermore, she could have forcefully gotten her revolver back instead of leaving it with the Abbot for the night, but she didn’t. If she started blaming others, then she should blame herself too, and that would just start an endless downward spiral. There was always more than enough to go around, once the blame game started.

After she had calmed herself down, she asked Brother Mender about any hybrids… no, demons, around the area who might have done this.

While sighing heavily, Brother Mender told her about Black Wind, the black bear demon who lived in Black Wind Cave nearby. Black Wind, a Lieutenant in the Crimson Army, who, through a combination of threats and bribery, managed to persuade the Abbot into devoting the entire Monastery into becoming a manufacturer of weapons for the Crimson Army.

“Even though I disagreed with him, many times, to his face, I would never have wished this fate for him. He was our Abbot, and he really believed he made the right decision in order to ensure our survival.” Brother Mender sighed again, his gaze still on the Abbot’s body, now covered with a rug.

“What will you do now?”

“Since I’m now the most senior remaining member of this monastery, I say it’s time we stop being the Crimson Army’s slaves. Although my brothers and I are craftsmen, not fighters, I’ve always believed that we have more than enough ingenuity to turn our monastery into an impenetrable fortress. We may not be able to defeat them, but we can turtle up to keep the demons away indefinitely! Ahem… ah, seems I got carried away there. How about you, Sister Trip?”

“I’m going to get my gun back.”

“But… Black Wind is a demon! A powerful one, at that. We’re just humans, there’s no way we could defeat him in his stronghold!”

“We? No need. You all stay here. I’m going alone.”

“That’s suicide!”

“I’ve trained for this.”

“What if it’s not enough?!”

“Then I’ll fail. If I survive, I’ll try again. Maybe train some more.”

With a worried look on his face, Wukong waved his hands between Trip and Brother Mender.

“Mistress, you’re going... alone… ?”

-- Chapter 16, End --