“That’s him!” Roscoe shouted, pointing at me.

Yeah, no shit.

One of the men took a pace forward. He was a big fellow, some kind of silver emblem on his collar. “I’d tell you to surrender, but we’re going to kill you whether you do or not, so…” he shrugged and grinned at me.

“Your honesty is truly refreshing.” I wondered how much time my God power had left to run. May as well make the most of it.

Two of the men flanked his left, and Roscoe and two others were on his right. Roscoe was looking scared, and one of those standing near him appeared indifferent, like I was dead anyway, so why bother.

They seemed like a good a place to start.

I flung myself toward both men, my blades lashing out. My dagger caught Roscoe on his arm, but he staggered back in shock, and the cut was minor. The other man reacted slowly, his weapon coming up too late. My rapier beat his sword aside, and my dagger found his heart.

But the heavy tread of feet surrounded me, and I spun to meet the attacks of the four remaining men.

I backed up before them, step by step, too pressured to even get in an attack of my own. Roscoe joined them, cradling his injured arm to his chest, and it was all I could do to defend myself before their onslaught, parrying with both weapons with everything I had.

They hindered each other as they tried to reach me, and I had to keep backing up across the square to stop them encircling me. But despite getting in each other’s way, there were still too many blades. A strike got through, slicing across my upper arm. I only avoided another thrust by twisting at the last second, the point scraping across my breastplate. Five against one was just too many, and these men weren’t unskilled peasants, but trained soldiers.

Dammit, Lira wasn’t going to be impressed when I suddenly arrived back in my bivouac, without any of my gear. That was even assuming she’d managed to bless it, and I didn’t wake up in Fernwick.

God Power Deactivated.

Well, that was a shame. At least I didn’t get distracted by a scrolling screen of status messages; I was grateful that they waited for a lull in the action before they arrived.

The four men pressed me hard, and I backed up before them across the cobbles of the square.

I blinked. Four? There’d been five a moment ago. But now one of them lay on the ground behind his fellows, an arrow shaft sticking high out of his back.

I grinned. I had an ally somewhere, and none of us had heard the swish-thud of the arrow over the ring of our steel.

“You men are the finest in Drakos’ army?” I goaded, keeping them distracted. “Five of you, and you can’t land a worthy hit?”

A sword slashed across my thigh, the ironic timing awkward to say the least. But another arrow flew in, catching one of those flanking me in the neck. He gasped and fell, clutching feebly at the shaft before he died. Yet this time, the others had noticed.

“Archer!” shouted the one with the emblem on his collar.

The men hesitated, distracted. I leaped to my left, beat aside the nearest man’s blade with mine, and stabbed him in the stomach. He dropped his weapon and doubled over, blood coating his hands, his legs giving way as he fell to the ground.

Silver Emblem turned and ran. The last man looked around with wild eyes, then bolted too – in the opposite direction.

Dammit. If either of them escaped, there’d be an account of what happened here. I needed them both dead for the ‘oh, the men went to fight bandits’ north-road story to stick.

“Kill that one!” I yelled to my invisible ally, and went in pursuit of Silver Emblem. My injured thigh protested with every step, but the leg held, and that was enough.

He had a few seconds’ head start, but it was rare for big fellows to be fast, and he wasn’t. I was. He’d barely reached the edge of the square before I caught up with him.

Spinning to face me as he heard me coming, he dropped into a crouch, readying his blade.

“Come on then, you fucker.”

I kinda liked this guy. He was always so straight to the point.

Behind me came the distinctive swish of an arrow, a strangled cry, and the sound of a body crashing across the cobbles.

“I think Taralith is running out of Drakos’ men. What do you see in him, anyway?”

The man’s eyes narrowed. Was that a trace of fear?

He didn’t answer. He came out of his crouch in a lunge, and when I parried, he was quick on the riposte, his sword heavier than mine. I parried again, his blade beating mine back. He was better one-on-one than he had been with his men in the way. I took a pace back, bringing him into me, and his eyes glimmered as he lunged again. His sword slashed down, and I parried with both my blades, crossed before my face. He leaned into me, his other hand gripping his sword hilt, and it was clear he was stronger. Hell, everyone I faced was stronger.

But I was faster.

I slipped his blade to the side, and the sudden shift threw him off balance. My dagger went in under his arm, and he gasped. Then my rapier sliced across his throat.

I cleaned my blades on his shirt, left him lying on the ground, and walked back into the square. The collective population of Taralith had emerged from wherever they’d been hiding, staring at me and the bodies I’d left behind.

This was an opportunity to get them onboard, if I could find the words. I couldn’t be everywhere at once, and the people of Valorah needed to begin fighting back.

“Defeating Drakos is a responsibility for all of us,” I said, my voice carrying clearly through the silence. “We all need to fight, if he and his men are to be stopped.”

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“Easy for you to say,” someone called out. “I’m a baker, not a warrior.”

“You don’t need to fight with blades. You can fight with defiance, with subterfuge, or simply by refusing to stand idly by while your neighbor suffers.” I addressed the man that had spoken. “Bake extra bread and give it to those who have suffered.”

He stared at me, then slowly nodded.

“But there are so many of them!” someone else shouted.

“Aye,” I said, “but fewer now, eh?” I looked around at those facing me, turning slowly in the center of the square. “How do you dig up a mountain? One spadeful at a time. Now there are none of Drakos’ men in Taralith, and when more come looking—which they will—you tell them they went up the north road looking for bandits, and never returned.”

There was a stir at this, amidst a few scoffs of disbelief at the suggestion that any of Drakos’ men would do such a thing.

“Which of you will say otherwise?” I asked. “Which of you wants Drakos to rule Valorah?”

“Not I!” said a man.

“Nor I!” other voices joined in.

“Then bury these bodies where they won’t be found, and go back to your homes and your work. Protect your families.”

“Who are you, stranger?” a voice called.

“I’m no one,” I said. “Just a knife in the dark for those who wear Drakos’ black. A shadow when they walk by, stabbing swiftly and mercilessly. I’m revenge for injustice, vengeance for those abused, and anger manifest. As we all can be.”

I wondered if I’d gone too far, my words too melodramatic. I hadn’t had a lot of practice making speeches. But there were nods among many, angry stares and remembered family and friends.

Folks started drifting away, while others bent in twos and threes to pick up the bodies.

I scanned the crowd for my archer friend, but saw no one with a bow. Whomever he was, he preferred to remain obscure.

Attack has gained 3 ranks.

Defense has gained 2 ranks.

Speed has gained 3 ranks.

Weapon (Sword) has gained 2 ranks.

Weapon (Dagger) has gained 4 ranks.

Dual Wielding has gained 4 ranks.

Etiquette has gained 2 ranks.

You have gained a new skill: Leadership. Leadership is now level 1.

Leadership has gained 1 rank.

Well, maybe I was better at speeches than I thought I was. But rank two was a pretty low bar.

Congratulations! You have gained a new level. You are now level 9. You have 12 skill points to spend. You may purchase new skills. You have an unspent Perk. You have an unspent Attribute point. God Power is now Level 2.

I blinked. An upgrade to God Power? That was unexpected.

Define God Power.

God (Level 2): Power of Kaelan. Reincarnation upon death at the closest blessed altar. Companions receive accelerated skill and level gain. Activation: once per day. Accelerated experience gain. Accelerated skill gain. All skills increased while active. Duration: 5 minutes.

Well, that was cool. Now my skills got a boost when I used the power.

I saw Zevrin approaching and sheathed my rapier and dagger while I waited for him.

“Thank you for what you did for Melissa,” he said, as he stopped before me. “I … I should’ve said something.”

“If you had, they’d have just beaten the crap out of you. We both know it.”

“Yeah, but …” He shook his head. “I knew this would happen. They walked around like they were untouchable, and it got worse as time went on. I’d seen them looking at Melissa before, but…” He sighed. “I just hoped it wouldn’t go so far.”

“That’s the way of unchecked tyrants,” I said, “they always want more. Is Melissa alright?”

Zevrin nodded. “She will be, she’s pretty tough.” He gave a shrug, “Have to be when you’re a barmaid.”

“Yeah, I can imagine.”

“Listen, you did a good thing here today. I wanted to say … well, I guess I wanted to say thank you. Melissa wanted to say it too, but her mother took her home.” He gave another awkward shrug. “Just … er … well, if you ever want a beer … there’ll never be a charge.”

I grinned. “Best news I’ve heard all day. I could do with one!”

He gave a laugh. “Well then, come on, let’s go and take care of that.”

We started walking back to the Hound and Horn, but it was as if Zevrin’s approach had granted the other townsfolk permission. Within a few paces, there were a dozen others thanking me, slapping my back, and offering to buy me drinks.

“…Lost a son in the war. Men like you restore hope…”

“…Good thing you did there…”

“…Heard about what happened to Melissa. You saved a nice lass…”

The crowd parted to reveal a woman standing before me. She appeared about Lira’s age, her clothing tight and practical in shades of browns and greens. A bow was looped over her shoulder, a hunting knife at her hip, and her quiver held only a few arrows. Her brown hair was tied back in a tight ponytail. She had high cheek bones and a strong jaw; what was probably an attractive face when she wasn’t glaring. Startling green eyes seemed to stare straight through me, and her expression was severe.

I nodded respectfully anyway, hoping she wasn’t about to start a fight. “Is it you I have to thank for the help out there?”

“I’d have done more, but I was still climbing onto the rooftop when you attacked.” Her stern expression didn’t change as she said this, and her eyes ran swiftly over me as she appraised me.

Around us, the crowd had begun to disperse. Some glanced curiously at us, but made their way past.

Zevrin slapped my shoulder. “The beer will be ready when you’re done.”

I gave him a nod. Zevrin clearly knew the woman, and didn’t think I was about to have an arrow in my gut. I took that as some encouragement and turned back to the woman as Zevrin wandered off.

She was still staring, her expression hard. “Well, I appreciate the help.” I tried a smile. “Next time, I’ll wait for you.” I offered her my hand. “I’m Kaelan.”

She folded her arms. “Valerie. I’m the fletcher in Taralith.”

“Fletcher?” I said, letting my hand fall. “Look more like a huntress.”

“Got to test my wares, haven’t I?” She said it without a smile. I wondered if she ever smiled.

“I’m glad you did. You helped ensure none of these men escaped to report back to Drakos.”

“I heard your little speech.” She ran her eyes over me again. “You’ve kicked the hornets’ nest, haven’t you? Taralith will come to suffer for it.”

So that was the cause of her enmity.

I cocked my head at her. “If you think that way, why did you help me?”

“Once you’d started the fight, there didn’t seem much point sitting it out.” She shrugged. “They had it coming to them, and you gave me the opportunity.”

“Well, I—”

“Are you Kaelan?”

I turned at the interruption to see one of the militia standing nearby. He had a cudgel on his belt, but his hands hung loose; I didn’t think he was here to cause trouble.

“Who’s asking?”

“We got a man at the southern gate. Turned up about a half-hour ago. Big guy, long beard. Pale looking. The only thing he says is ‘Kaelan’.” The guard sniffed. “Zevrin pointed you out.”

“Yes, I’m Kaelan. Want to show me?” Of all the people who knew I was here, it sounded most like Rolf, except for the pale bit. Still, it could be anyone. Maybe my name was getting known.

“Aye,” the man said, nodding.

I turned back to Valerie to take my leave, but she’d gone, disappearing into the crowd while I’d been distracted. A strange woman, but one I had a suspicion I’d see again.

“Let’s go then,” I said to the guard.

He led me to the road south from the square.

“He doesn’t seem right in the head,” the guard explained as we walked. “I asked him what his business was—we do that for new faces—and he just said ‘Kaelan’. Struck me as strange the way he said it.”

“Where is he now?”

“I called a couple of the other fellas. We’re holding him in the guard room. He was quite content to stand and wait, wouldn’t even take a seat. Just kept saying your name.”

“Nothing else?” None of this sounded right.

“Nothing else. Just stood there, holding his hammer, he was. Big one. Y’know, a blacksmith tool? Bizarre thing to walk around with.”

Definitely Rolf, but why was he here, and why the odd behavior? I walked faster.

“Just in there,” the militia guard said as we approached the gate and reached the guard house.

I stepped inside. It was Rolf alright, standing there with a guard on either side of him. His face was pale, just like the militia man had said, and there was something strange about his eyes.

Then he smashed his hammer into the chest of the guard nearest him, sending the man flying into the wall behind him with a sickening crunch.

“Rolf!” I gasped, stunned by the sudden savagery of it.

One of the guards reacted faster than the others, bringing his cudgel down on Rolf’s head with a crack. It should’ve felled him, or at least stunned him, his skull likely split. But Rolf ignored the blow, raised his hammer—

—and charged at me.