We spied from atop a nearby hill, the hamlet the boy had referred to was of similar make to the village, only much smaller, and fiend sitting in the middle of it.

At least three meters tall sitting down, the monster gluttonously gnawed upon the arm of a corpse. A large pile of bodies lay to the right of it, to the left; a pile of sticky red skeletons.

The fiends head resembled a bovine skull with a layer of pale skin stretched over the surface, eyes sunken into their sockets, its enormous horns jutting outward at low angle. its upper body was a muscular frame with two large arms covered in a pale hairless skin. it could be considered vaguely humanoid if one could ignore the insectoid appendages sticking out of the side under its ribs. Below the torso its body was covered in thick shaggy fur, its legs ending in hooves that split into more toes than any normal hoof would have. Those villagers might as well have fed themselves to that thing for all the chance they stood.

I had primed my crossbow just in case but probably shouldn’t have bothered, might as well use the feathers on the bolt to tickle its feet. I had only ever seen dead fiends before, the skeletons My master kept in his fortress for decoration and security. seeing one alive makes it obvious why they inspire so much fear, even from this distance I can sense the tremendous strength it held in those arms. The idea of Living under a tyrannous zauberlord isn't so unpleasant if you know he’ll at least keep something like this from barging through your house at night and chomping down your family.

The centipede made too much noise even without the water flooding the path so we had to leave it some ways up the road. If things went south how quickly could I get back to it? Would it even be faster than that monster?

hmmm… centipedes were still a bit slower than horses, that was the other trade off besides being ugly as crux. less elevated as well.

“what do you think, see anything?” asked Maceon, laying in the grass beside me.

“I see a fiend alright.” it really wasn’t too far from the standard image of what that word conjures in the head. I’m almost disappointed it wasn’t one of the weirder looking ones.

“I mean do you see anything that might indicate a weakness?”

“No, How would we even know?”

“figured it was worth considering.”

Among their other unusual traits, fiends were known for having a weakness to seemingly random and innocuous things. Milk once burned through the flesh of one like acid, the scent of rosemary or the sound of a cat's meow sent another two into a catatonic fit.

Different fiends have different weaknesses however and the vast majority of these famous cases were discovered through sheer luck. There are records of clever hunters puzzling out a Fiends weakness by observing the irregularities in its behavior and mannerisms but only elite hunters and magier have the luxury of toying with such a creature.

The go to method for everyone else was with a fifty man archer volley.

“This just means we’ll have to deal with this the old fashioned way.”

“I assume since you’re suggesting that, you’ve got experience in fiend slaying?” I asked Maceon

“I’ve read the hand book.”

“Whoah-what? you’ve never even fought one?! What are we even doing here?”

“Like I said, we’re going to kill that thing.”

“Tell me you’re kidding right? I agreed to endanger myself to help your investigation, I did not agree to be your partner in picking fights with Fiends!”

“You see that pile of dead bodies there?” he pointed to it.

“yeah?”

“You can raise them can’t you? set them loose on that creature.”

“i-it's not that simple.”

“But you can do it?” he asked again.

“Of course I can, but whipping up a simultaneousmass resurrection without any preparation or ritual will just create a horde of raging leichmen.”

“That sounds perfect.”

“-sure it is, until you're stuck with a small army of uncontrollable, pissed off corpses.”

“Can’t you just unsummon them?”

“no I cannot ‘just unsummon them’, that’s what the ritual is for, making sure they follow commands and can be dismissed when necessary!” I hissed.

Half of magik practice is cutting yourself out of your own line of fire.

“and how long would it take to set that up?”

“Well if you can get that thing away from the bodies I can get it ready in less than half an hour.”

He gave me an annoyed look.

“Fine, ok, that's clearly not an option. what happens to these corpses if we just leave them alone afterwards?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“I have no idea, they wander to the next town and kill everyone in sight, they might all find some way to re-kill themselves, crux, they might not even attack in the first place, they might just sit there and start screaming.”

he stroked his chin. “not ideal.”

“No kidding.”

“but it will have to do.”

“Excuse me.”

He drew out his sword and examined its blade.

“very well… I’m going to sneak up behind it and sever its heel tendons that should stop it from moving.”

“-calcaneal tendons.”

“Yes, those. Once I do, you raise hell with those corpses. If I’m right they should cancel each other out, we’d just need to pick off the stragglers.”

“You have no idea it’ll go like that! what if you’re wrong?”

he paused.

“We’ll improvise.”

“That's insane! have you considered the risk here?!”

“I have, and I calculated for it.”

He opened his side pouch to flaunt several glass canisters of vibrant colours.

Alchemical weapons… no telling what they could do.

“I always have a back up plan.” said Maceon confidently, resealing his pouch.

“Did you make those yourself?” I asked.

He shrugged.

The master of a potion is not an insignificant detail to the one who possesses it.

Alchemy was the nullard’s answer to magik and though it was frequently touted as ‘the people’s magik’, accessible to everyone, you either had the knack and patience for it or you ended up painting yourself on the laboratory walls. More often than not, scraped off as ingredients for the next guy. The supreme irony of the ‘people’s magik’ was that the majority of the most powerful elixirs could only be utilised by the one who brewed it.

It often required rare ingredients and esoteric, dangerous and sometimes insane processes, but the results, (when correctly performed), left little room for argument. it's little wonder so many magier also took up the practice, applying its utility to replicate magik that they could not, most especially that of the more uncommon spheres.

But even still, you’d need some serious potency to take down a fiend and the glass in his pouch didn’t strike me as top shelf brews.

“Be realistic for a minute here, throwing all caution to the wind to play hero is ‘admirable’ and all, but we don’t actually accomplish anything by dying here.”

“As soon as that monster finishes this village it's going to move onto the next one. there aren’t enough soldiers in ten villages around here to properly fight that thing. If our only options are doing something and doing nothing then I’m going to do something.”

“even if it makes things worse?”

“At least then we’ll know we tried.”

“That’s a touching sentiment, but it’s a lot easier to say when you’re not being ripped to pieces by filthy corpses.”

he paused as if considering my words.

“let's leave and send for a platoon from the capital.” I suggested.

“It'll take too long to mobilize, it will be gone by then.”

“then get the villagers to evacuate.”

“they won't be able to move out fast enough, it’ll be too easy for that monster to catch them.”

urgh you want to die a hero that badly do you?

Maceon went around the side of the hill to sneak up on the fiend from behind, I remained on the hill and readied myself for the cast. such a rushed spell from this distance was likely to do more harm than good, but in the worst case scenario, he and the fiend would provide enough of a distraction for me to escape.

if he really had some kind of masterbrew he probably wouldn’t risk trying to attack it so directly, although,that may suggest he has something that specifically allows him to engage in such a reckless strategy… perhaps he does have something significant up his sleeve…

simple alchemical concoctions would function as explosives, caustic dissolvent or toxic gas. but more complex ones were capable of changing the weather, converting plants, fungi and evan stone into functioning servile entities.

A true masterbrew could do something as metaphysically deranged as thinning the dimensional film, opening the doors for communion with or intrusion by those on the other side. not that any sane man would be capable of creating such a concoction, let alone use it.

from alchemy to fiend slaying Maceon’s infuriatingly plain face has given nothing at all away as he continued to throw me curveballs.

at least this encounter will prove once and for all his capacity as a threat.

if he successfully kills this fiend it would prove with little doubt he’s serious business, if it makes paste of him, I’ll know he wasn’t.

I kept my crossbow trained on the creature's skull. The practice I’d had with it was enough to hit a large target, even if I miss the head I’d probably still land it somewhere on the body. The most it would do is distract it, but that might be all that’s needed for an opening. alternatively…

I tilted the crossbow over towards Maceon.

Now wouldn’t that be a tragic slip of the finger. all my problems would be dealt with, that fiend would even clear up all the evidence for me.

But then I was seen leaving with him at the village and the outpost.

I could report to them he was killed by the fiend but then would they still expect me to go to the capital on my own?

if I try to disappear they might put a bounty on me…

looks like I’m screwed either way.

I sighed. What would my master say in this kind of situation?

Probably admonish me for getting found by this guy in the first place.

Those hawker parrots I hired to advertise my services were to find clients for me, not provide information with which to track me down. at least I know i'm making a name for myself…

I pushed the idle thoughts out of my head and refocused on the situation.

Now is not the time to get distracted by mental noise.

Maceon crept closer to the creature, dwarfed by the sheer bulk of it. he must be insane getting that near to it.

My death magic was strong enough to kill a man from this distance, but not a fiend, from here I doubt I could give it much more than a heart burn.

I held out my hand to consider the idea but as if it had heard my very thoughts the creature's head jolted to face my direction.

Oh by the shrike!

Could it see me?!

Was this grass long enough?! Did my robes stand out?!

it lingered in my direction for another moment, before its head rotated nearly 180 degrees to stare down at him. Sunken eyes staring down from their boney sockets.

Crux. Well, what did I say?

I readed myself to flee. I warned him well enough. no point in-

“I hope you weren’t planning to do something impolite.” the Fiend spoke.

“what?” I blurted out in shock by mistake, my hand flying to cover my mouth.

I had heard of fiends that bore a beautifully alluring visage that they used to draw their prey, I had even heard of others that could do the same with song, but I had never- ever heard of a Fiend capable of speech. But unless I'd finally lost my mind, this one just did.