The memory faded, and I immediately crouched low, pressing a hand to my chest as my heart hammered against my ribs. My quiver felt alarmingly light—just a handful of arrows left. Overhead, Aurentum hovered like a drifting shard of moonlight, his ethereal glow sliding across the dusty rooftop.

“Hey, Aurentum,” I muttered, forcing my breath to steady. “Status?”

He bobbed closer, voice echoing in my mind in that crystalline tone that always managed to sound superior.

{Let’s see… two guards in active pursuit. You have five arrows remaining. And might I add, your ragged breathing is most unflattering, Rod.}

I clenched my jaw. Scanning the rooftops, I spotted Guard Five perched on a distant ledge, bow taut. Aurentum chimed in again before I could even speak.

{Incoming fire detected. I advise you move—unless you’d like matching scars.}

I dropped into a crouch. The arrow whistled overhead, splintering the makeshift plank that bridged two rooftops. The guards clambered onto it, each step a heavy, determined thud.

I drew my bow, struggling to steady my trembling arms. Exhaustion weighed on me like lead. Aurentum flickered brighter, as if evaluating my every move.

{Do try to hit something. I’d hate to think I’m bonded to an incompetent marksman.}

I ignored the barb. “They’re closing in—got any bright ideas?”

Before he could reply, a burst of frantic wings erupted from a nearby coop. Pigeons scattered into the air, their flapping feathers buffeting the guards. Guard Four stumbled, flailing at the birds, while Guard Five shielded his face.

My opening. I drew back an arrow and focused on Guard Four, the closest. “Aim.”

{Aim? How delightfully predictable. Activating… now.}

Sudden clarity honed my senses. I exhaled and released the arrow. It struck Guard Four just below the knee, drawing a tortured howl from him.

{Aim successful. Guard Four: -110 HP. Status Effect: Crippled (-20% movement speed). And yes, that’s quite painful.}

Guard Four crashed onto the plank, which groaned ominously beneath his weight. Guard Five hesitated, looking back at him just as the wood cracked. The makeshift bridge gave way, sending both guards tumbling into the bazaar below.

{Guards Four and Five: -60 HP (fall damage). Status Effect: Stunned (15 seconds). Truly a graceless landing.}

{All Guards defeated, plus 40 Death Boons. Awfully convenient how there were dozens of those rickety bridges, huh?}

I let out a shaky breath. My chest felt tight, and sweat trickled down my temple. “What's left, the captain?”

{A fair observation, but don’t get cocky.}

I closed my eyes for a moment, letting the tension in my chest ebb. Just a moment of peace. That was all I needed.

Aurentum floated closer, flickering impatiently.

{Well? Are we done languishing in self-pity? Because if there’s a next step, I’d suggest you think of it soon.}

I managed a weak chuckle, though the sound came out more like a wheeze. “I’m sure they will,” I whispered. “But right now, I’d like to enjoy breathing.”

He spun in a slow circle above my head, the glow softening.

{As you wish. Take your moment of reprieve, Rod. You’ve earned… oh, at least half of it.}

Despite my exhaustion, I couldn’t help a small smile. As insufferable as Aurentum was, I owed my life to his guidance more times than I’d care to admit. For now, I simply let the evening light wash over me, my chest rising and falling in uneven rhythm, trying not to think about the next battle that was sure to come.

{Focus.} Aurentum’s voice echoed in my mind, cutting through the fatigue. {Someone’s coming.}

“I have to admit,” a voice called out, carrying easily over the wind, “you’ve got skill. But playtime’s over.”

The narrative has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the infringement.

The Guard Captain was a tall, commanding figure with broad shoulders and a strong, agile build that made him seem dangerous even in heavy armor. His dark layered armor was decorated with touches of gold, and a crimson sash around his waist added to his air of authority. He carried a curved scimitar with a polished blade and a hilt detailed with blue stones, a weapon both beautiful and deadly. His tanned skin showed years of experience under the desert sun, and his sharp eyes gave him the look of someone always in control. A fur-lined cloak hung from his shoulders, and though his falcon-shaped helmet rested behind him, he carried himself with calm confidence. Every movement was careful and deliberate, like he was used to having the upper hand in a fight.

I quickly yelled out scan!

Guard Captain

Health: 2000/2000 {Quadruple any guard you’ve fought so far}

Armor: 200

Weak Points:

* Left knee {Minor mobility penalty}

* Right shoulder {Thinner armor plating}

I swallowed hard. Two thousand HP was a daunting number, especially with only three arrows left in my quiver. Each arrow was tipped with blaze—a dangerous substance that induced hallucinations and caused explosive death if it killed the target. High risk, high reward. He moved toward the ledge opposite from me.

And then he jumped.

The gap between the rooftops was wide enough to make most hesitate, but not him. His bulk moved with an unnatural grace as he landed, the tiles beneath his feet cracking on impact. From his back, he drew a curved scimitar—wicked, gleaming, and far too deadly for my liking.

I swallowed hard 2000 HP. Four times the health of any of the guards I’d faced so far. My gaze darted to the Glowing gold spots on his body, indicating weak points—left knee, right shoulder. A flicker of hope sparked, but it wasn’t much.

Then my inventory counter appeared on a scroll just to my right: three blaze-tipped arrows. Three shots to finish him—or die trying.

The Captain didn’t waste time. He lunged forward, scimitar slicing through the air with the promise of death. I barely dodged, feeling the heat of the blade graze my side. My fingers moved on instinct, nocking a blaze arrow and letting it fly.

The shot streaked through the air and struck his right shoulder—but it only glanced off his armor, leaving a faint trail of blaze residue in its wake. He didn’t even flinch. Instead, he surged toward me, forcing me back, my boots sliding on loose tiles until I ducked behind the nearest chimney.

I heard his laugh—a deep, grating sound that made my stomach turn. “You’re going to have to do better than that, archer.”

For a moment, I dared to hope. Even a glancing hit with a blaze arrow could mess with his head—hallucinations, disorientation, something to give me an edge. But he showed no sign of slowing down.

Instead, he raised his scimitar and brought it down on the chimney.

The stone shattered, sending debris flying in every direction. A jagged chunk caught my side, ripping through my coat and biting into my skin. Pain flared, and my HUD pinged: -10 HP.

I stumbled back, clutching the wound, my breath coming in sharp gasps. The Captain stood there, unharmed, towering over the rubble he’d created.

{Stay calm. You know his weak points. Aim for the knee, the shoulder. He’s not invincible.}

I forced my fingers to my quiver and nocked the first blaze arrow. Three arrows. Three chances to finish this—or die trying.

The Captain didn’t waste time. He lunged, scimitar slicing through the air with a keening whistle. I barely threw myself to the side, tiles shifting underfoot as I rolled. The blade’s heat grazed my ribs, and my breath hitched, sharp and painful.

On instinct, I let the arrow fly. It streaked through the air and struck his right shoulder. A spark. A faint trace of blaze residue. But the arrow only glanced off his armor. He didn’t flinch. My heart sank.

{His armor is too thick for a glancing blow to do much. You need to land a clean shot.}

“Better than most,” he rumbled, “but not good enough.”

He surged forward. I scrambled back, sliding on loose tiles until I ducked behind a crumbling chimney. My heart hammered as I dared to peek out, my mind racing. Even a glancing hit with blaze might help. Hallucinations, confusion—something to slow him down.

But if it was working, he wasn’t showing it.

Instead, he raised his scimitar high and brought it crashing down. The stone chimney shattered with a deafening crack, and shards of debris sprayed outward. A jagged chunk tore into my side, ripping through my coat and biting into flesh. Pain flared, hot and searing.

{Focus. Don’t lose control. You’re still alive.}

I stumbled back, clutching my side. The Captain loomed over the rubble, unmoved, his scimitar gleaming and steady.

He crouched for a moment, sifting through the larger chunks of shattered chimney with one massive hand. Without warning, he hefted a stone the size of a human head and hurled it straight at me. My eyes widened—instincts screamed, but my legs weren’t quick to respond. The rock spun through the air, a brutal projectile aimed at my center mass.

I lurched sideways, nearly losing my footing on the loose tiles. The wind of its passage ruffled my hair as the stone whizzed by, smashing into a wooden hatch behind me with a resounding crack. Splinters exploded outward, making me shield my face to keep shards from slicing my eyes.

“Thought you might like a souvenir,” he sneered, already snatching a second piece of rubble. Another throw—this time lower, aiming for my legs. I jumped back, but my wounded side protested, pain flaring like fire. The second projectile sailed under my feet, narrowly missing my ankles, and crashed over the edge of the rooftop into the streets below. My heart pounded as I skidded on the slippery tiles, arms flailing to keep balance.

“I’m not in the market for souvenirs,” I hissed, wiping sweat from my brow. But my voice trembled. If his sword couldn’t reach me, he was more than willing to use whatever else was at hand.

I wanted to scream, but I couldn’t waste the energy. I darted my gaze to the faint red glow on his shoulder. Maybe the blaze was slow to act, but if I could land another shot—

I scanned the rooftop. No cover, no allies, no escape. Just broken tiles and a cruel monster between me and survival.

My breath hitched as I nocked another arrow. Two left. One mistake, and it would all be over.