Numb to conflict, I often wondered how long before my heart would grow cold. It was easy to think of the Lower demons as monsters - often because they appeared and acted as a monster would. History was fraught with the mistake of man painting his enemy as 'less than' and the horrors that bled from those times. Nuance was the cold grip of claws ready to split my head in twain. Yet, for all that I wanted to do to eradicate evil, I didn’t want to count myself amongst them.

Even quicker than the amber glow overhead could strike me, the stench of my surroundings assaulted my nostrils and sought to overpower my senses. Pigmen filth, blood, hot metal, and charred flesh. It was disorientating, and I immediately crouched and slunk towards the nearest object of cover as a plume of smoke drifted through me.

Wight came directly into the revolver, which I drew into a spin and leveled it before me. We were amongst some buildings - an alleyway, but the ramshackle house to our right had collapsed and was on fire. A pigman's corpse lay ahead at the mouth of the passage that led out onto the street.

“What do you think? If you were a dumbass Hunter, where would you curl up and die?” I narrowed my eyes, but only dust clouds and shadows passed by.

[Are you not more qualified to answer that?]

I opened my mouth but promptly closed it. Not half because I didn’t care to get the fragmented dust of pig farts and dead demon in my mouth. The obsidian mask flowed up my face, leaving just my eyes aglow with bright crimson.

Oh, perhaps he meant this. Through my mask, I pushed my glasses up.

Monochrome painted the area, cooling the harsh, ruddy reds and sickly browns. With a quick glance around, there was nothing my Detect picked up. I made the mental note that despite it hinting at the demonic presence within my house, down here it wasn’t overwhelming and seemed more inclined to pick things out that I had more interest in.

We needed to move further in.

//Audio and Visual confirmed. There are… twenty-eight hostiles in the area.

“Does that include the crocs?”

//Negative.

Not bad odds. Hopefully, the gang would be clued into who I was, and I wouldn’t need to chew through them too and lose their favor. Or gain it, seeing as they apparently respected might.

I turned around to see that the alley was a dead end - a large rocky formation sat at the end and blocked it. This row of houses was seemingly built up against the inside of a cave as my gaze wandered over to the high stone ceiling.

Throwing caution to the wind, I ran to the rocky wall and jumped off of it to grab the edge of the not-ruined building, hauling myself up with the necessary grunt someone my age was allowed. The roof bent and flexed beneath my weight as I tried to shimmy across the back edge - hopefully the sturdier part of these constructions.

My marginally higher vantage point granted me a better view of the battlefield. More houses dotted the other side of the cave, leaving a wide road that ran through the center. The battle was in full force as the crocodile demons had made it at least halfway towards the throne of the pigman warlord.

Working my jaw, I stepped onto the next building - If I could get to the start of the cavern, then it might be easier to work my way in from the gang’s side rather than emerge in the midst of the melee. This second building shuddered as if a piece of the wall was slowly pinging away the nails or just the strong hope that held it together. My added pleas weren’t any help - as with a brief lurch, it flung me downwards, and the roof collapsed.

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To my credit, I had anticipated this and had readied into a roll to break my fall. Underestimating the forward momentum I carried, the expertly performed maneuver sent me straight out of the front door, which had popped out of the amateur hinges.

I slid across slick dust and blood as I regained my footing, the added heat of being amongst the battle washing across me as metal weapons flickered in the light of multiple set fires - the guttural roars of pigmen and the snap of croc jaws so much louder on the ground floor.

Immediately I became death.

A pigman to my right saw my entrance to the fray and gestured for two buddies to join in. Straight headshot to the first, before heart and stomach, heart and stomach to the next two. The silver gun flashed in the light as it spun and reloaded. Ranged weapons were supreme once again as I started clearing a space around me. Being on the pigman side still, I was spoiled for choice of targets.

///Five neutralized, now thirty-six nearby

This was more of a small war than I had first realized. Even against the pigmen alone, it was no surprise that the Hunters were overwhelmed. Although, they hadn’t told me their levels. I wondered briefly, as a tore through another two opponents, whether this was another trick - a trap for Eric the Gullible.

It would be a pretty weak one if so. Even the Org would know by now that it took more than pigmen to cast a shadow over me. I had vanquished a temple with hardly a scratch, and even in the midst of such a pitched battle, I was more focused on the meta layers behind the Quest rather than the looming figures around me.

[Perhaps you should rally the troops.]

A novel idea. If only we could fly without Wight bursting through my back and causing injury, it would be lovely to float above the battlefield. Imagine the panic and fear in the eyes of the pigmen. I shook those thoughts from my head. Leading a gang through abstract means was one thing; imagining myself as a walking god would be a short lesson in how brittle I truly was.

I ducked beneath the swing of a large club, placing a shot in the foot and knee of the assailant as I continued past. A second was disarmed with a shot to the inner elbow and then gut. I turned as I strode onwards, briefly aiming backward to put the crimson beam of through both their heads as they were slung low from the pain.

In my peripheral, I noticed the Warlord still near his throne. It was common for them to be the last into battle or even not attend due to being too lazy, overweight, or disinterested in dying and relinquishing power. This one was slightly different, as he held a large orb over his head, and two slimmer pigmen stood beside him. If I didn’t know any better, it seemed as though they were casting a ritual. Nothing for me to worry about at present - and too far to knock on the doors of their skulls with my revolver just yet.

Sparks blew from my gun as I blocked a thick metal sword - more of a shaped slab of metal than a properly crafted weapon. I slid the revolver down the blade before twisting out Wight’s new dirk - severing the fingers holding the rough grip. As the pigman yelled and dropped his impromptu weapon, I cored straight through him with .

My entrance to the fight had not gone unnoticed - not least because of the bright flares of my abilities hanging in the air like a disco gone wrong. As attention was diverted to me, the front lines stopped getting reinforcements, and the crocs were able to gain ground.

I started to see some of them in between the large and bloated figures of the pig demons. They seemed to have eschewed their previous uniforms of leather and denim and now sported dress shirts, slacks, and dusters. Some even had a hat on. It was briefly disconcerting while also tickling a part of me that had long lost sense of what was acceptable.

[How fitting.]

I pushed my glasses up and looked around. The change in vision made combat more difficult, and briefly, I was unprepared to discern between some of the greys - only just blocking and stumbling back away from a heavy upswing of an axe. But - I saw it. A faint red shape on the other side of the cavern, the second floor of one of the houses that looked like they were made of wet cardboard and grime.

In stumbling back away from my assailant, I bumped into a heavy body. In reflex, I spun about with revolver leveled - but paused when I saw it was a croc.

He too, paused and looked at me with brief confusion.

“Do not worry, Eric Redd is here.” I nodded to him.

A wide grin spread across his face, and he thrust his curved sword into the air.

“Redd Death!” He yelled.

A chorus of chants reverberated behind him, their coarse voices echoing loudly even over the sound of battle.

I turned with a wide grin of my own and led the charge into battle.