In a world of literal superhumans, James was not strong by any stretch of the imagination. However, that did not mean that he was weak either.

To survive the constant bullying and the occasional casual attack on his life, he was forced to learn how to fight.

It was challenging, to say the least.

The first issue was that no one cared about actual hand-to-hand combat anymore. Blocking someone's punch hardly mattered when that same punch could blow through an armored tank.

So James had to learn to redirect the power of a blow…without a teacher. He failed. A lot.

However, eventually, he learned how to redirect even a blow that could crater the ground. Which was really very fortunate considering his current situation.

After James gave his heroic speech with all his non-existent bravado, he immediately had to dodge the charge of the female cultist and her ominous-looking hands.

One thing he overlooked when he challenged her was that she first appeared by floating down to him. That meant that she and every other cultist could fly while using different abilities, something he knew should be impossible.

Which only meant one horrible thing for James.

Their gear was enchanted.

Enchanted gear was rare, very rare. His world's monsters didn't drop loot like a video game. That meant any enchanted item a person had, was made.

And anyone that could reliably enchant gear was well sought after. The reason was that the abilities that enabled enchantment were nearly unheard of.

Most abilities affect one aspect of a person with minimal variation.

However, enchanters can affect the aspects of the reality around them. A massive difference between the average ability user and the closest thing to actual magic.

This leads back to James' issue. The Cultists had an Enchanter-type ability user amongst them.

Which is why, when James realized the cultist in front of him was backed up by an enchanter, he truly regretted his heroic speech.

Though he had little time to consider how impossibly dangerous his situation was. Because after dodging the initial charge of the female cultist, he saw precisely what her hands were capable of.

Support the creativity of authors by visiting the original site for this novel and more.

Where she had touched, nothing existed.

The brick wall that had miraculously still been standing behind him was gone, not even dust left to blow in the wind.

Even the oxygen in the air around the two seemed to be growing thin. The woman's hands seemed to eliminate anything that touched them.

Those were not great odds for James, who could only fight hand-to-hand.

Seeing the cultist turn around, James returned to his fighting stance, carefully watching the woman's hands.

On the woman's part, she flew back at him once more with her obsidian hands outstretched.

James watched as she rocketed towards him, air friction seemingly eliminated by her hands. He could see her frown as the cloak's hood had been blown back by her speed.

When her outstretched hands were mere inches away from gripping his face, James pivoted to the side.

The thing is, James hadn't only learned how to redirect strength. He also learned how to use it.

Before the cultist could react to abruptly losing sight of her target, James's hand speared into her side, ripping through her cloak like it didn't exist.

As she sped past, his knife-like hand continued to cut a line down her cloak.

The enchantment on the cloak immediately broke, and she fell, crashing against the ground and carving through it with her own ability.

By the time she had gotten back to her feet, James was already punching her shoulder.

He figured she would be much less dangerous if she couldn't lift her arms.

His hit connected, and once more, his hand seemed to do more damage than it should as the cultist was launched backward by a few feet shouting in pain as her shoulder dislocated.

James tried to continue his assault, but the woman had already recovered from her fall.

Swinging her one good arm around, she tried clawing through his head again.

Ducking under the arm, James gave a quick jab to her torso before rolling back to avoid the dangling arm that she had whipped at him.

Considering the damage James knew he could put out when he entirely used his ability, he was shocked at the woman's endurance.

While learning to fight, he learned to incorporate his ability into his fighting style. Hardening his hands until they were like metal and softening where he hit so it was like rubber.

Unfortunately, it was always harder to affect the malleability of something other than himself. Otherwise, his life would have gone a lot better.

Dodging the cultist's good arm again, James looked to dislocate her other shoulder when he nearly fell after finding his legs didn't move.

Looking down, he saw that his feet had been frozen to the ground. Looking around, he saw that the other cultists had noticed him and were coming his way.

It was that brief look that ended the fight.

The female cultist either didn't see or didn't care that their fight was being intervened in as she swung her arm horizontally towards his torso again.

Without the ability to move, James could only desperately activate his ability and punch her hand.

As his ability came into contact with the woman's, he expected to watch his hand and then arm disappear instantly upon touching the woman's hand.

He was not strong, and his ability wasn't either, so it was a complete surprise when his hand and arm remained intact.

Instead, he witnessed reality fracture like a mirror breaking. James was still determining if that was any better.

Before he could contemplate further, his body was violently torn from the ground and dragged into the thin cracks in reality.

Everything happened in a moment.

By the time the flying group of cultists arrived, James was gone along with the female cultist.