Three more cans deep into the night and I’m finding it difficult to stay awake. Each bitter drought chases away the built-up stress. Nyt had fallen asleep with her head resting on my shoulder. I had taken the half-filled can of beer out of her hands and placed it on the coffee table; causing Nyt to fall all over me so that half of her body lay over my lap. I kept her there. Burn marks and faint scars were evident under the thinner parts of the fur on her face. I heal her a little to help those fade all the quicker.

Jenna had also fallen asleep at some point during the night; her head rested on the arm of the couch, and her chest rising and falling rhythmically. I couldn’t blame either of them. It must have been a rough couple of days while I was out; Nyt had led an escape from the military’s compound and also fought in defense of Seth’s house. Jenna, and Dylan...well I can’t really imagine what they had gone through. The total upending of their lives over the last couple of weeks.

Despite my worries, however, Dylan seemed to be in good spirits; her legs drawn up to her chest as she watched the video that was over halfway done at this point. I lean over, pick up another beer, pop open the can, and take another long drink; letting its intoxicating warmth massage my worries, and hushes the voice screaming in my head that I should be fighting; that I should delve into Efra again now that I’ve somewhat recovered. And I will. Come morning.

The group had steadily taken more and more ground; climbing higher and higher into the mountain. Frontliner was particularly impressive. His fighting was a mixture of brute force and finesse as if I were watching a tiger given human form.

Initially, I expected him to use brute strength, but instead, he mixed in aether and wind attacks with his normal attacks, using his long mace as a medium. Each blow was devastating. The first Imp he came across slashed at him with its claws, and he caught it with the small round shield over his wrist and slammed the head of the mace into the creature’s gut. As it doubled over from the pain, he brought the mace over his head, infused it with aether, and slammed it down with such force that the imp’s head splattered into a thousand pieces; leaving a small crater behind.

Chaser, too, was a force of nature.

He moved like a storm; the two maces he used worked in conjunction with one another in a vicious dance. He’d catch the attacks with one, and use the other to slam into the creature’s body; shattering bone, flesh, and scale all at once. Unlike Frontliner, however, he never used mana to augment his attacks. Instead, his maces seemed to be enchanted with latent earth spells that released sporadically; normally in the form of a hand reaching out from the ground and grasping onto the creature to hold it in place for a stronger blow.

During this time, the camera operator approached one of the corpses and began showing the various body parts. The narrator then spoke about the various uses parts of the imps bodies could be used. Their scales were no good for armor, but when ground they could be made into a fine powder that, if mixed with distilled water, could strengthen someone. Their long black claws made good arrowheads or throwing knives. They were incredibly sharp and incredibly hard. Their meat could be seared or grilled and, apparently, tasted like pork. Their bones could be made into a hearty broth. If this broth were combined with the powder from the scales, it increases the strengthening effect. Once broken down, the bodies of the human-sized ones could sell for 200 dollars each.

While wondering if the ratmen, dogmen, satyrs, and minotaurs had similar properties that I hadn’t really looked into, Dylan turns to me in the office chair.

“Have you ever thought of recording your fights?” Dylan glanced back off her chair. Dark circles underlined her eyes.

I shake my head.

“No. I’m not doing this for fame or attention. I’m doing this because it has to be done.”

“But wouldn’t it be cool to also get fame for it? No one would call you evil or a terrorist anymore.”

“I really don’t mind them. They can say what they want, I’ll still do what I have to do.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“I see.” She turns back toward the screen.

Frontliner and Chaser worked together to bring down one of the larger imps; Frontliner slammed his mace into the creature’s scaled legs, while Chaser darted behind it and slammed his maces into the back of them. Once the creature’s head was bowed, Frontliner slammed his mace into the back of the creature’s head.

Injeel stood in the middle; his smoke disorienting the imps on the sideline that tried to rush past the two melee fighters. With her bow, Kyodou redirected the wild swing of one of the imps, and slammed it into a nearby tree. She drew an arrow from her waist and quickly nocked it before letting loose into the back of the creature’s head point blank. The scales shatter through the shear force and the pin stops the creature from falling down.

Mirror, meanwhile, wreaked havoc on the Imp’s back line; the pieces of her mirrors darting to and fro; firing her beams of light, blinding and disorenting them. Their scales were incredibly heat resistant, but their eyes weren’t, and neither were the siege weapons that they had been bombarding the group with. Luckily, Kyodou’s arrows kept most of the projectiles away from the group. A boulder managed to get through, but that was easily dodged; only leaving a large divot in the stone, body-strewn staircase.

The heavy blow didn’t kill the large imp, as it stood up grabbed Chaser, and tossed him down the staircase. The black-haired man crashed against the archer, sending both rolling a little down the stairs. Frontliner swung into the large creature’s stomach. The large imp intercepts it with a downward thrust; the mace smashed against the creature’s knuckles, and with its other hand the imp responded in kind; slamming down its pointed claws toward Frontliner.

Injeel motioned with his lantern; shifting his incantations to evocations of the devas as the white smoke rushed to fill the gap between the creature’s claws, and Frontliner’s head. The mist slowed the blow long enough for Frontliner to step back.

Chaser sprung up and helped Kyodou to her feet. The archer drew her arrow, and Chaser leaped forward. The arrow slams into the large imp’s shoulder, and Chaser slams his maces down into the same shoulder, once more driving the large imp to the ground.

Frontliner raised his mace and uttered something. His weapon began to emit a glow before he slammed it down. The blow brought the imp low but didn’t kill it. The second one brought the creature fully down to the ground. The third and fourth resounding hit finally killed it. With that, the way to the temple grounds was clear.

For the next fifteen minutes, they made war in the courtyard. Arrows were deflected by the white smoke, and the numerous shards of glass blinded and scorched their scales just enough to force them to retreat a step. Kyodou, meanwhile, used her archery to pick off the numbers not engaged with Chaser or Frontliner. Her arrows were blunted at the tip, but regardless of that, they punched through the scales and through the creature’s flesh underneath.

Once the courtyard was taken, they naturally flowed into the temple, clearing that as well.

Nyt shifts in the cushion as her eyes blink awake. She sits bolt straight and apologizes before covering up her mouth and running out the door. I could pick up the sounds of her retching off of the porch a moment later, before coming in a moment later. At this point, the group had already taken the temple. Nyt walks into the kitchen, and a moment later I hear the sink running. I suppose she’s seen how that’s worked before. She comes back with two glasses and hands me one. I take one of them and sip at it before draining another can.

As this one settled, weariness took over. By the time that the group made it to the peak of the mountain, I was finally feeling the full brunt of all of the alcohol that I had imbibed. I feel guilty, briefly. Certainly, I wasn’t setting a good example to Dylan, but I had earned a few drinks, right?

The fight on the screen was uneventful, and filmed at a distance so that the camera operator wouldn’t get caught by the great being. Everyone held the dragon beast back while Mirror prepared a spell. Her mirror split off into six circular pieces that spread themselves out in an even pattern over the rampaging godbeast.

The godbeast spewed magma from its mouth, and Chaser and Frontliner forced its jaws closed by blowing it on the head. Its stomps caused the entire mountain to shake, and a part of it to fall away. The scales refused to bend or break no matter how far back the blows from Frontliner pushed it back. It was as unyielding as a mountain in front of them, though they knew they only needed to hold off.

Every minute that passed, the glow from the mirror pieces grew stronger and stronger until, after about five minutes the brightness reached its peak. A beam of light emits from one light and then flows to another, and another, forming an encircled pentagram in the air. The pentagram spun and spun like a star in the heavens. Frontliner reeled his arm back; stone and earth and aether surrounded his mace as he slammed it forward hard into the creature’s knee. The godbeast buckled and fell prone onto its belly. He and Chaser hopped away a safe distance as the star ceased its spinning.

A beam of light, about as wide as the creature’s body shot down from the pentagram and washed over the creature. The winds kicked up from the heat of the focused laser swept over the mountaintop where the camera’s operator was; branches from the trees that surrounded her ripped off, as even the sturdy-looking Frontliner had to brace himself to not get swept away. He used his body to block the wind from knocking over both Chaser and Kyodou. Injeel had taken cover behind a large boulder.

Once the light faded, the land before them was remarkably different. The creature was a blackened husk, as was the entire area surrounding it. The ground it stood on had been superheated into glass. Even now, however, the great beast tried to push itself off the ground. Until its charred legs crumbled beneath its weight; turning to black ash and smoke.

“Do you think you’ll ever get that strong?” Dylan turned to ask.

“Huh, wh-- yeah, sure. I’m...I’m going...bed.” I manage to stammer out.

I push myself off the couch and bump against the coffee table as I drunkenly stumble out of the room.

“Oh, good night.” I hear Dylan mumble.

At some point, my memory fades as I find a bed and collapse into it.