Black lightning was an otherworldly phenomenon. It acted like electricity but looked like magic. There was an absence to it that burned the retinas. It warped the air around it and created a blackness in space that drew everything else toward it. Still, it was a bright neon sign flashing “something is fucked up” in the air for all to see.

Aquila, what the fuck?

It wasn’t me, manling—it was you. When you killed the first of the trio, something signaled the rest of the roving black-hearts. They were on their way to kill you. I stopped them.

The eagle’s tone was arrogant and more than a bit self-satisfied. Hunter couldn’t blame the bird, but it begged the question: how did the tieflings know when one of their number died? That hadn’t happened with everyone else Hunter had slain. The amount of dead demons in the Outpost was staggering. In fact, Hunter didn’t really care to dwell on how many of the humanoid enemies he had slain in cold blood.

Hunter shook his head lightly. It doesn’t matter. I need to be like the eagle. I need to focus on the here and now—not what happened in the past. So think…how do you get out of this.

Hunter walked over to the second dead tiefling and retrieved his staff. He spun it in a circle to discard the remaining blood. Its powers absorbed anything that stuck to the polished metal. After that, he considered his options. It was tempting to stand up to the incoming enemies and fight them. However, he had tried that before, and he had been beaten soundly by a surprise attack. No matter how much experience he had over the Outpost demons, his experience didn’t mean anything if they had the numbers to nullify it.

Run. Hide. Ambush.

The words would become his mantra. His presence hadn’t been discovered yet, only an alarm raised. No one living had seen him. With that in mind, he activated Shadow of the Black Wind and faded from view. When he was cloaked from sight, he activated Wind Walk to help him get on top of the roof.

It wasn’t that Hunter felt any safer up there than he did the ground; it was simple human nature. People didn’t tend to look up when they were searching for something. It was an unnatural movement of the head, and most people subconsciously didn’t bother. Since Hunter’s camouflage wasn’t perfect, he needed to rely on low light or height to reduce the chance of him being spotted in the first place.

When he had hidden in the shadow of the building’s chimney, he turned his eyes to the sky once more.

Aquila, break off from your attack and hide nearby. I want them to scatter and separate.

Noted, the bird answered.

It was increasingly difficult to see the dark plumage of the eagle against the black sky. Hunter had no fear that his avian companion could escape intact. Satisfied, Hunter let his gaze fall on the main thoroughfare in front of him. He stretched his senses until he could pick up the more distant signs of his enemies.

Wooden doors were creaking open on crude hinges. The clinking of metal could be heard as demons rushed about. The ever-present ringing of the bell cut off as its user was occupied elsewhere. The sounds coalesced until Hunter made out a party heading toward his position from the larger buildings in the center of town.

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James and Hunter’s grandparents were leading a small patrol of tieflings. They were all garbed for war, and the spell casters had ready-made fireballs resting on their palms like hunting dogs poised to be loosed. As Hunter’s enemies glared at every shadow and twitched their weapons toward every sound, he realized that they were still as incompetent at battle as they were before.

They lacked the supernatural grace that Hunter had found in upper-tier demons. Hell, they lacked the competence of the tieflings that Hunter had defeated at the Rift Keeper’s monastery. They were a shabby bunch, dressed in gold armor and silks because they thought they looked pretty.

To Hunter, they were like children dressing up in their father’s business suits and pretending to go to work. They were unsuited for the new reality. It was probably why they were playing nursemaid in the Outpost instead of being by the Keeper’s side. They were lambs for the slaughter—Hunter’s slaughter, it turned out.

Regardless, even enough lambs can hurt the wolf, and Hunter had no desire to be injured. He had to remain strong so that he could upset the Keeper’s plan and return to his world. That’s why he was watching the tiefling party with a critical eye. His Eye of the Hurricane allowed him to pick out their weaknesses and plan his assault accordingly.

There were only six of them, but two of them were spell casters. He didn’t want to hurt his grandparents, but that didn’t mean he was stupid enough to forget they were just as deadly as the rest of their kind. He watched, and he waited.

Serendipitously, the party stopped as they neared Hunter’s position. It wasn’t a lucky break. Hunter had left the three corpses of his victims to cool on the ground. It was these remains that James stooped over and mumbled under his breath.

“What could’ve done this?”

“One of the mutated animals in the wild?” Hank offered.

“No,” Blair responded. “We’ve never had an animal reach so far into the Outpost.”

Blair looked over at the other three of the party.

“Two of you were at the Southern Gate. Was there any strange activity?”

“None,” came the gruff reply from a tiefling man. His armor and spear marked him as a warrior type.

James stood up from his casual observation and made a slow circle to peer into the darkened roads and shadowed homes around them. His eyes never lifted to their roofs.

“Well, whatever did this isn’t here anymore. Strangely, no one responded to the alarm bell beside us six.”

The mayor rubbed his chin with a hand.

“Normally, I wouldn’t be the one to split the party. However, we need to start rousing people from their homes to get a full search going.”

The mayor nodded like he decided what he was going to do.

“There’s safety in numbers, so we’re going to split into two groups of three.” James pointed at the warrior with the spear and another man with a fireball burning in his palm.

“Micah and Don, you two come with me.”

He turned to Hunter’s grandparents. “That will make two warriors and one mage with each group. That’s about as safe as we can be in the present circumstances. Hank, take your party South and start knocking on doors. I’ll take mine North and do the same thing.”

Hank frowned. “I’m not missing the fact that you’re traveling over safe ground and in the direction of your house, James.”

James just shrugged at the accusation. “We have to go in some direction. I’d rather stick to the main path so that one party can respond to the other if they get into some danger. Are you refusing?”

James tone was hard. There was a threat as clear as a bared blade. Hunter didn’t miss the malice that was clear in the man’s body language. Hunter was surprised to see that the same threatening posture was mirrored in his grandfather. Hunter didn’t think the older man had it in him to be so brazenly against the current power dynamic. Eventually, it was Hank that backed down.

“No, I’m not refusing. Just noting your cowardice. If you die, I’ll need to make a report to the pilfer.”

Hunter wanted to laugh. Even in defeat, Hank was an arrogant bastard.

James sneered. “I’ll try not to disappoint you, Hank.” The tiefling made an ambiguous gesture before continuing. “If we’re done here, then let’s move out.”

James started moving north, and two of the other tieflings broke off to follow him. Meanwhile, Hunter’s grandparents took off in the opposite direction with their tiefling underling in tow.

The teenager’s mouth drew into a grim line. It was time to take out the mayor.