The demon was in the rangers’ midst in an instant.

Sudden raised her pistol, but couldn’t fire for fear of hitting one of her own.

Spells and Skills activated.

Sudden found herself in a swirling storm of blood, guts and dismembered limbs.

She screamed.

The demon suddenly stopped.

Its gore-smeared head slowly turned, settling toward the south.

Captain Butcher recognized the look, the posture. She had seen it many times before. It reminded her of when a monster was drawn to a target, whether purposefully, through a taunt Skill or spell, or unintentionally when it found something else it preferred.

Sudden and the surviving rangers sprinted for their lives.

The demon ignored the aerial bombardment from drakes and riders daring to swoop closer, willing to risk their lives to protect and avenge their comrades on the ground.

It gazed upward at Captain Butcher.

The moment was over in an instant.

Before she realized it the demon was already halfway back to the ruined convoy.

“What’s it doing?” Kettleball said.

“Um… oh shit! It’s going to let the other monsters out!” Skyrat said.

“Rangers! Hammer those cages with everything you have!”

The demon ran through the burning wrecks, ripping cages open as it passed them.

Collared monsters and mutant animals dashed and immediately ran south down the freeway.

They ignored the dead and dying scattered across the road.

“I guess those collars work, right, captain?”

“Seems like it, Kettleball. Where’s the demon?” she lost sight of it in the tall plumes of dark, billowing smoke.

“I got eyes on it, heading west!”

“What? It’s going south!”

“No way, it must be using an ability to mess with you guys, it’s obviously going north!”

“My tracking Skill’s got it eastbound!”

Nervy chatter filled the comms.

Captain Butcher dispatched one drake team to follow each demon.

“Skyrat, Kettleball, what do you see?”

“North.”

“South.”

“I see it heading east.”

She couldn’t believe her eyes.

For some reason, even as she tracked the demon through her HUD, it continuously appeared to flicker in and out of existence.

She could’ve sworn that it was there and she was looking at it, while simultaneously being certain that it wasn’t there at all.

“Skyrat, circle them,” she pointed to the grounded rangers. “Keep eyes out for the demon and other monsters.” She directed all the grounded rangers to quickly, but cautiously link up so that they could take stock of the situation and implement a plan to get everyone back, including collecting the bodies of the dead. “Ace-2. Do you have eyes on Useful?”

“Yeah, captain. Sergeant’s in a tree. Her arm’s twisted the wrong way, but she’s moving, over,” Ace-2 replied.

“Pick her up and head straight back to base. It’s not too far. Your drake can handle the extra weight.”

“Copy that. You can count on us, captain.”

Rangers didn’t leave rangers behind.

The ambush was a failure.

They had lost a wyvern and multiple rangers.

A few trucks had escaped.

Controlled monsters and mutant animals ran to join their masters.

More importantly, the demon was on the loose.

“We can catch them, captain,” Skyrat said.

“No,” she shook her head, “the intercept point will be too close to populated territory.” The landscape and the path of the freeway worked against them. “They’ll run southeast until they get close to the coast and from there it’s straight down to Miami through a bunch of dense, populated city streets. We can’t get away with flying over that many eyes.” She didn’t add that they were bloodied and beaten.

The loss of one wyvern was devastating when you only had a dozen fully-grown adults in combat ready shape.

Dead rangers were an even greater blow.

She had to warn base camp.

The demon was heading south, she was almost certain.

And that meant there was a chance it could run right into the rest of her forces.

----------------------------------------

“I don’t need no weapons,” X-Ray crossed inked arms across an equally inked chest.

“Good for you,” Sgt. Dastardly rolled her eyes.

Prim, Swan Princess, sort of agreed with the abrasive man.

The rangers had been trying to come up with a workable plan to smuggle weapons into the banquet for a couple of days after they had decided that dodging the party invite wasn’t possible.

She was fine with the sacrifice play. Plus, the Furies where going to be there and she’d rather be there for them anyways.

“It doesn’t matter. We can take weapons from the guards,” she suggested.

Neckbeard raised an objection. He needed all his gear to be effective.

“Fair,” she replied.

“At least it’s only weapons,” Wichita said.

“Yup, they won’t stop us from wearing armor, right?” Tuxedo Cake said.

“Hold up. We don’t know if there’ll be, like, a weapon check-in desk,” Chandra said.

“We’d be stupid if we trusted the slavers not to mess with our stuff,” Neckbeard said.

Prim looked to the sergeants for some guidance and found them more interested with playing cards at the kitchen table.

“I still think my bag of holding idea is your best bet,” Timber said.

“Molds, you’re braiding his hair too tight, he’s not getting enough oxygen to his brain,” Wichita said.

“That’s not how that works,” Molds replied.

“Uh… it is a little tight,” Timber said.

“Then have Wichita do it!” Molds snapped.

“Um… sorry?” Timber shrugged. “Please continue… I really appreciate it.”

Molds grumbled, but continued her work with Timber’s thick fro.

“They’re definitely going to search bags,” Chandra said.

“Sergeants, any suggestions?” Prim prodded.

“None whatsofuckingever,” Sgt. Mouthy waved a hand.

“They’re being very chill about this,” Wichita whispered.

“They’re not the ones entering the viper’s pit in a few hours,” Neckbeard muttered.

“Wait!” Lasik snapped his fingers. He pushed his glasses up significantly.

“Well?” Neckbeard sighed.

“Molds—”

“I’m busy, Lasik. What is it this time?”

“That technomagic version of bags of holding you were talking about?”

“I heard the Norcal people are close to getting it right.”

“Well… can’t you make a couple? You’re a techmage.”

Molds slowly turned her glare of disdain to Lasik.

The young man’s glasses proved no barrier.

He shrunk into himself like a frightened hedgehog in a desperate attempt to protect himself.

“You want me to just… do that? In a couple of hours?” Molds said flatly.

“I withdraw my idea,” Lasik muttered.

There was a sudden knock on the door.

It sounded weird to Prim.

Not like knuckles rapping, but more like something sharp gouging the wood.

Three of the sergeants laughed.

One groaned.

“Pay up, Dastardly!” Sgt. Hardhat chuckled.

“No. We don’t know if—”

Sgt. Mouthy shook her head with a wry smile as she went to open the door.

“What the fuck?” several rangers echoed.

What the fuck, indeed.

Prim stared at the largest eagle she had ever seen that wasn’t a twisted mutation.

Its head came up well-past Sgt. Mouthy’s waist.

It carried a large bag in its beak, dropping it at the sergeant’s feet.

“Thanks,” Sgt. Mouthy said.

The eagle nodded and took to the sky with a gust of wind that pushed the brawny sergeant back a step.

Sgt. Mouthy picked the bag up and peeked inside.

She pulled out a tablet with a sticky note on it.

“What the heck was that? My surveillance stuff didn’t notice it,” Molds’ eyes were wide.

“It didn’t trigger my wards, so that means it was an ally?” Babyapple scratched his sparse beard.

Sgt. Mouthy tapped and swiped, holding the tablet up for Prim and the others.

“Hey, it’s Hillary,” Chandra said.

A nervous-looking young woman waved.

“Wait—” the screen flipped to show a big, bear of a man. “I want to make a legally binding statement. As one of the main developers of this new and exciting magitech, I reserve the right to give it an official name—”

“Hey! I put in just as much work as you!” Hillary’s voice.

“Hurry it up!” a woman’s voice off-frame, older.

Prim realized what this was before the girl on the tablet launched into a detailed instructional about how to use the phones and tablets of holding in the bag Sgt. Mouthy tossed at Neckbeard.

A little later, Prim approached the card-playing sergeants.

“Did you know?”

“Know what?” Sgt. Aims said.

“About the solution to the problem we spent a couple of days agonizing over.”

“Nope,” Sgt. Hardhat said.

“But—”

“We didn’t know for sure,” Sgt. Aims clarified, “but we had an idea that something would pop up.”

“That’s sorta how it is when you’re working a quest with Cruces. Fucker always seems to come up with some serendipitous bullshit,” Sgt. Mouthy grunted.

That sort of tracked with how the Furies talked about working with him.

“Get your shit ready, Swanny. We’ve got a dubious fucking honor waiting for us. A promotion to the main part of this shitty Quest,” Sgt. Mouthy said.

“Sirs,” Prim nodded.

She returned to her prep.

Only an hour left until they were going to be picked up for the party.

On the other side of the city another brave group made their own preparations.

“What happens if the spell fails?” Amber said.

“The items you’ve stored essentially, fall out,” Jake said.

“So, the phone is in my pocket…”

“Say goodbye to your pocket,” he shrugged.

“That’s why we’re going to keep them in a pocket outside of our armor,” Hillary said.

“You guys don’t seem to be getting my concerns,” Amber said.

“It’ll come out of the screen, so just make sure you don’t have the screen facing you, besides the item exits the same way you put it in, so don’t put your sword in pommel first, think of the phone as a scabbard if that helps you build your mental image,” Jake said.

“Hey, I just got an idea for your next update, here me out,” Trevor said. “Do exactly that. Put it in pommel first. Then you make it so the sword shoots out? Awesome, right, right?”

“That sounds pointless,” Hillary frowned. “You want the sword in your hand and if you want to shoot something just use a projectile weapon.”

“But the surprise factor!” Trevor waggled his brows.

“I guess, but I’d use arrows, bolts or darts. Although, even that seems redundant. Hmmm… the damage those things do have to be efficient for the cost. Which in this case is the mana infused into the phone—”

Love this novel? Read it on Royal Road to ensure the author gets credit.

“Less theory crafting and more getting ready,” Rebekah chided.

The old soldier was already in most of her gear, minus her helmet and body armor.

Ginessa walked into the living room. The young woman was the only one not geared up for a fight. Unless one counted the hemline of her black dress as a deadly weapon.

The men’s eyes darted to and away from her repeatedly like an impatient tongue testing a hot cup of coffee.

“Tch,” Rino snorted.

Out on the balcony, Demi stared at the western horizon.

Home.

Would she see it again?

Would they?

What about Hanna?

“Commander,” Rebekah stepped onto the balcony, sliding the door shut.

Demi raised a brow.

Rebekah used her title, not her name.

It meant that the soldier was in operations mode.

“How are the preparations going?”

“They’re nervous.”

“That’s normal.”

“Worse,” Rebekah shook her head.

“Understandable.”

She didn’t need to innumerate the reasons why.

“Anything new on Hanna?” Rebekah said.

“Nothing. She’s alive. Cruces says he’s planning to get her out while he hits the main target.”

Rebekah nodded.

Those words were enough to assuage the soldier’s concerns.

Demi wished she could do the same, but something inside continued to gnaw at her guts with worry.

Too many variables against them.

Surrounded by over a million enemies.

Headed for the heart of a lion’s den with the king of the beasts himself.

The slavers had hyped up the feast.

She wondered if it was going to be more like a last meal for her and her people.

The condemned marching off to—

No.

They would be closer to martyrs, wouldn't they?

Trading their lives for a righteous cause.

What use was upholding justice, what was right, when you lost the lives you were responsible for?

“We shouldn’t have brought the kids,” she regarded Hillary through the glass. “What would Ron say?”

“He would’ve tried to keep her home, but he would’ve failed cause it’s her call,” Rebekah said.

“We promised to take care of her.”

“I figure that’s what we’re doing. We’re setting her up for her best chance at a future when we bite it.”

“It’s still so faraway isn’t it?”

“What?”

“A world where kids aren’t fighting for their lives.”

“Maybe for us. We lived in one of the best places on Earth. When I was in the army I saw different places. Kids in those places had to grow up fast. They fought for their lives in a way us soft people never had to. From where I’m standing the spires just brought everyone to the same shitty level.”

“Dark.”

Rebekah shrugged. “Coping mechanism for the stuff I saw and did in the army.”

“You’ve always been one of the most level-headed people I’ve been around.”

“I went from the Afghanistan to the spires in about a year and a half. I never got the chance to adjust to a peaceful life.”

“A sixteen year deployment is bullshit, isn’t it?”

“Honestly, I can’t see myself doing anything else. I’m a fighter and a defender. I exercise, I practice. All things I’d be doing anyways. I’m not going to pick up a hobby like knitting. A job? I wouldn’t trade being stuck in an office or dealing with bitching customers freaking about the fact that they need a specific brand of cheese or I’ve ruined their day for what I’m doing now.”

“Making a real difference.”

Rebekah nodded. “That’s what I thought I was getting into when I joined the army. When what I was really doing was risking my life for a bunch of rich people so that they could get even richer. I was killing people that only wanted to live their lives in their countries without us taking anything they had that was worth something. So, yeah, I wouldn’t be doing anything else. I figure that I’m making up for what I did before the spires and I’m going to keep doing it until I can’t.”

“Just remember that you can’t do that if you’re dead. We don’t waste our lives.”

In an opulent mansion, enslaved women and girls went about their duties with an eerily similar smile on their faces.

“Soon…” Hayden muttered.

“Getting that game face on, I see,” Jayde nodded sagely.

Dayana strolled past the living room and into the kitchen.

“Grab me some juice!” Jayde called out.

Drake pulled his spear out of the smartphone.

“How does it know what I want?” he said.

“It’s magic, silly Sticksies,” Jayde said.

“Yeah, but it’s not like the bag. At least with that when I put my hand inside I grab what I want.”

“And it’s not weird that you just happen to grab exactly what you intended to,” Dayana tossed a bottle at Jayde. “Listen, it’d be even weirder if you stuck your hand inside the phone, wouldn’t it?”

“Yeah, but—”

“You cast spells and this is what you’re having a hard time with,” Jayde chuckled.

“Stop wasting mana,” Hayden said.

Drake nodded, putting his spear back into the phone.

It just went straight in.

No distortions.

No lights or sparkles.

Nothing to draw attention from one’s eyes.

Like putting it in a bag.

“Like magic! Oooooo…” Jayde wiggle her fingers.

“What are you doing?” Dayana raised a brow.

“Being spooky, look at his face. It’s freaking him out,” she said.

“No it isn’t,” he replied flatly.

“Are you up for this?” Hayden regarded him. “Cause there’s no shame in bowing out. This is the most dangerous thing you’ve ever been a part of. If you’re going to be shaky then you should go with the rest of them when the rangers come to pick them up.”

“No! I’m fine. I’ve got this.” The words came out a bit higher and shakier than he had wanted.

“Puberty’s gonna get you,” Jayde cackled.

“Not helping,” Hayden glared.

“C’mon, he needs to lighten up. We all do. If we’re committed then we’re committed. No use in worrying about it. Just need to worry about what we’re gonna do, you know,” Jayde said.

“You’re not done with puberty?” Dayana gazed at him with deadly seriousness.

“I’m eighteen,” he scowled.

“I know,” she said. “So, was that a lie? Seems odd that Cal didn’t catch that.”

“Because it’s the truth.”

“Ignore them,” Hayden continued. “Look, you’re gonna have Shrewed with you and he knows what’s up. You’re going with Cal, which might be the safest place to be in this whole Quest—”

“Or the worst,” Jayde chimed in.

“Yeah, if you start hearing an orchestra or music that transcends existence then head on a swivel,” Dayana added.

“Also visions. Music, but the kind that’s on fire, Jayde continued.

“Wha—”

“Golden Angels are evil. If you see one… just try to make yourself look non-threatening,” Hayden said.

Drake’s head spun.

He lapsed into silent contemplation.

Focus. They’re just being how they always are before a big fight. Humor to deal with the fear. That’s what everyone tells me. That’s what they’ve told me. Just stick to your role. You can’t worry about everyone else is going to do. Would it be bad if I bailed and went to the ranger camp? Shit! Can’t look like a coward. They’ll call me a little bitch for the next couple of months. Cal’s all-powerful, Shrewed’s an experienced badass, we’re getting some extra superpowered back up. I’m just gonna play a supporting role.

“Great,” Hayden let out a long breath, “you guys broke him.”

“Nah, he’s fine,” Jayde waved a dismissive hand. “More importantly, Dayana.”

“What?”

“Your hair is out of hand. You look like a dark version of those little flowers. You know, the one you blow and all the little fuzzies go flying.”

“Yeah, so?”

“Want me to braid it?”

“Nah, I’m good. It’s extra padding for the helmet.”

“Suit yourself.”

Upstairs in a master suite the size of a three bedroom apartment, Cal gave out final instructions.

“Good news, bad news.”

“Um… bad first,” Fin said.

Silent Cooper loomed beside the slim ranger.

“The Vitiator is spooked. Not sure how or why, but he’s called an all hands at the Cabal’s central base.”

“Won’t that piss the king off, them ditching his big party?” Fin said.

“I don’t care, but the king will grow suspicious,” Cooper said.

“That could go our way just as easily. He might start thinking that the Cabal was the one behind all the murders and troubles he’s been having.”

“It changes nothing for me,” Cooper said.

“Same,” Fin said.

“Well… it does for me. I’m not letting you do a suicide thing. You’re getting help.”

“My vengeance—”

“Is still yours, Cooper. You’ll just have to share it a bit. You’re not the only two people in the area with claims on the Vitiator, though you’re the ones that really want it.”

“Who?” Fin said.

“Opsec. Just proceed as planned and they’ll be there. Don’t let that thirst for revenge cause you to do stupid shit. Be smart about it. Here,” he handed a small box to Fin.

“This is some serious magic,” Fin said.

“From Ms. Teacher.”

“What is it?” Cooper said.

“I don’t know. She specifically sent it to you two. You’re not supposed to open it unless,” he cleared his throat, “‘That which your heart desires is about to slip from your grasp’.”

“Okay, vague and ominous, but we’re going to listen,” Fin said.

“I don’t care,” Cooper said.

Fin and Cooper left quickly.

They’d scarcely gone done the hall when a tall, scarecrow-like form unfolded out of the shadows in one corner of the large living room.

“Bennett,” he nodded.

“Cal.”

“Sun’s still mostly out.”

“It’s harder and unpleasant, but travel through shadow made it doable. I didn’t want to leave things too tight,” Bennett said.

“The other vampires?”

“One is attached to the lord nonsense. One is mostly concerned with her own position. Only one was amenable due to her intrinsic nature. Which is to say that, no, we can’t count on their support.”

“I’d settle for them staying out of it.”

“They will be at the banquet. As will I, assuming I can finish my deliveries quickly.”

He handed Bennett a small box.

It looked like a toy in the vampire’s long-fingered hand.

“Box of holding,” Bennett said. “I can sense the magic. This is from— what do you call her? Ah, ‘black Galadriel’.”

“Not me. I’ve never called her that. Ms. Teacher is the only name she’ll answer to.”

“Even I can tell that the quality of the spell is orders of magnitude greater than ours. Odd,” Bennett’s head quirked. “I can tell that the mana is strong and of great quality, yet there is no signature or maybe it’s hidden?”

“Yup, that’s what every mage that’s looked at Ms. Teacher’s work says.”

“Unfortunate that she isn’t helping us tonight.”

“She’s done more than enough for me. She’s the only reason we’ve got a chance at avoiding a bloodbath. Besides, she might help more than she had agreed to.”

“Well, that is good news. Good luck to you,” Bennett shook Cal’s hand.

“Same.”

The vampire vanished into the shadows.

“I’d like to amend our deal,” Holly appeared leaning against the fireplace.

If Bennett had noticed her slinking into the room he hadn’t given an indication.

Her abilities didn’t conceal her from Cal’s extra sensory perceptions.

“I want him to turn me into a vampire,” she said.

“No. We don’t know if it works that way.”

“Why haven’t you tried to find out?”

“Because Bennett is a responsible person.”

“He’s a night hunter, like me.”

“Superficially. You enjoy hunting and killing. He doesn’t. He gets his blood from bags.”

Holly dropped it.

“Orders for tonight?”

“Follow your list. No deviations. Self-defense is acceptable. However, you will not intentionally engineer situations placing yourself in said position.”

“The demon isn’t on my list.”

He winced internally.

Tracking that damn thing was like trying to grasp the wind.

All he was certain of was that it was close to Miami.

“I can feel it coming. One night hunter to another. Like, it’s going to take my territory. You know, like I do with Bennett and the other vampires. Or your dogs and those swamp wolves,” Holly grinned equal parts eagerness and trepidation.

He kept a light touch on her thoughts.

The mind of a slasher wasn’t a pleasant place to share.

Satisfied that she wasn’t on the verge of losing control, he nodded. “You can add it to your list, but only if it comes after you. You will not seek it out. It’s too much for you.”

She stared at him with a shadowed gaze.

Dead eyes.

Like a shark.

A feral grin slowly split her face.

She slipped out of the room, though not as unnoticed as she normally moved, not to someone that saw with more than just his eyes.

He wondered if that was the way to free Holly of her murderous class.

Could vampire be used to replace slasher?

Not likely if it needed her to make a choice.

Holly and the Slasher were one and the same in her mind.

Time was drawing near.

He regarded the small pile of nullification crystals on the table before floating them into a small bag, non magical, the rest had gone with Bennett.

The sun slowly settled into its slumber, painting the dimming sky in red and purple beauty.

The storm reached the opposite shore and began to pelt Miami with rain and lash it with wind.

Not enough to dissuade a million people from their festivities.

The Slaver King wasn’t the only one throwing a party.

Bars and restaurants across the city were having watch parties to watch the king’s party.

Yes, it was being covered and broadcast like award shows and gala dinners. The decadence of the old world brought forward into the new.

People gathered in homes to do the same.

If they couldn’t score an invite, then it was the next best closest thing.

One group wasn’t in a celebratory mood.

They were anxious, concerned, angry.

Some had given up their place of honor at the king’s party for this.

The Cabal’s inner council sat around their round table.

Candle and torch light flickered, casting garish shadows across the dark-painted walls adorned with all manner of skulls, bones and flesh.

“Well… are we really going to stay here all night?” Mammon said. “I’m missing out on the greatest networking opportunity of my life.”

“There is an orgy hall,” Zepar said. “An entire hall, thousands, tens of thousands of people are going to be at the king’s party. All that lust and debauchery… wasted.”

Cambion schooled his expression to portray an apathy he didn’t feel. “The Vitiator does not command.”

“Blasphemy,” Shax hissed.

He gave the older woman a tired expression. “I only speak the truth. He’d say the same thing. He guides. He doesn’t rule.” The reality was more muddled than that. Cambion had learned that the Vitiator wasn’t that different from humans despite being from an immortal species. Their leader, teacher, guide was just as selfish and petty as any rich and powerful man. The Vitiator was most concerned with gaining power and keeping it. “Fellow Elders,” he said mildly, “even the least of us felt that, right? Something in that storm is off. Something to the north… also off. Something still hunting people down and killing them in the dark, some of the victims were our brothers and sisters. And you want to fuck and suck,” he tipped his head to Zepar, “you want to network,” he nodded to Mammon, “I don’t know what you want, Shax. Is this taking time away from your failed experiments?”

“You’re an insolent boy,” Shax grumbled.

The rest of the elders murmured at his words.

“It’s obvious to me that our leader simply wants us to be united in the face of threats that are about to hit us,” he continued.

“My divinations have been troubled for months,” Gremory said. “Two of my oracles went mad.”

“Maybe cause you think they can live off of breathing air,” Mammon muttered.

“What was that?”

“Peace, Elder Gremory,” Cambion raised a hand. “Whatever threats are coming, whether specifically for us, then we stand a better chance of weathering the storm by presenting a united front.”

“So, what you’re saying is no backstabbing?” Mammon said.

“He didn’t need to say that,” Zepar said.

“Do we have an accord, at least for tonight?”

Shax stood and regarded him coldly for a long moment before leaving the room.

A few other elders followed suit.

Cambion regarded those that stayed.

“You’ve got a good track record at surviving shit,” Mammon shrugged.

“Can I interest you in—” Zepar began.

“No,” he said flatly.

“While we wait for whatever this is, we can—”

“He’s not one of your children, Zepar,” Mammon chuckled.

“And what about you?” Zepar leered.

“You can’t afford me,” Mammon snorted.

“Oh? Name your price.”

Mammon sat up. He looked deep in thought. “We can bargain after tonight.”

“The offer isn’t good tomorrow.”

Cambion cleared his throat.

“I foresee… problems,” Gremory intoned.

“Did you foresee that storm?” Mammon said.

“Enough. I suggest we consolidate our forces,” he said.

“Yes. Keep them close to us and hold them back. As reserves. Let the others bear the brunt of this supposed threat,” Gremory said.

“Agreed. We will gather around the Vitiator to ensure his safety as is paramount for without his guidance the Cabal is nothing,” Zepar said.

Cambion nodded in agreement.

He had already sent his best and brightest followers to his secret hideout in the southern part of the city.

All he needed to do was present a token defense and retreat the coming chaos.

Whatever was about to hit them he was positioned to come out of it better than the rest of his fellow elders.