I was with my round as it flew through the air. The mana that had formed the round, the mana that had come from my core, connected me to it. Following Emma’s explanation of mana, of the difference between the pure mana we all took while soul breathing, and the mana becoming a part of us, I better understood what it was that was happening. This bullet, the mana that formed it, was a part of me. It was created to do my will, and my will guided it forward even now. As the bison turned its head, chewing lazily on the prairie grass, my round shifted its flight path ever so slightly in response. A split second later, the round pierced cleanly through flesh, bone, and brain, exiting the other side cleanly. With the job done, my focus returned immediately back to my surroundings.

“Shame,” Mr. Grayson was saying cockily as he watched the bison. “Guess your round wasn’t strong enough to…” he trailed off as the bison fell to the ground, its body realizing what had happened to it. So cleanly had my round passed through it, I figured, it had taken the poor creature an extra second or two to process it was no longer living.

I smirked, my weapon raised once more, another target in mind. I’d already proven to Mr. Grayson that I could down one of the massive creatures. But now, I was going to show him the folly of his ways. Pride, especially pride like his, came with consequences. Hell, that was a lesson I’d just recently learned myself. And I was more than happy to pass that particular lesson on to any needing it.

I pulled the trigger before he knew what I was doing, mentally loading a third round into my rifle as I worked the lever on the weapon, expelling from the chamber the excess air mana that lingered following each shot. My rifle was back in my shoulder, another target in my sights. This time though, I spoke before I shot.

“I’d advise,” I said, not trying to hide the smugness that had filled my voice, “you get your boys to work, else you’ll have no chance of winning Miss Parker’s wager.” I pulled the trigger, and the round tugged at me, my mind’s eye following it until it impacted with the target. Another jerk of the lever, another bit of purplish mana escaping my rifle, and another round loaded into it all in the span of a second. “Three down,” I said, a fourth target in my sights, “and plenty more to go.”

“You’re bluffing,” Mr. Grayson said, a slight quiver in his voice. I pulled the trigger, and a fourth bison dropped. With each one killed, I felt another pang of guilt. I took no pleasure in killing these beasts. And the slaughter honestly was starting to dull my amusement at Mr. Grayson’s paling face. Unfortunately, I knew full well I couldn’t let him win the wager. Miss Watts had put me in a fine predicament, and I was going to have words with her later.

“Am I?” another round loaded. In the time it’d taken for us to reach the herd, and for Mr. Grayson to send everyone to their assigned positions, I’d mentally prepared close to two dozen rounds, enough to ensure I had plenty, long as I didn’t miss, to meet the required quota to outshine the others. Even still, once everyone else started shooting, the chaos no doubt would begin to hamper my ability to swiftly and easily take down my prey. Meaning, I needed every second I could buy from the pompous man, before he came to his senses. “Or is it that you underestimated me? Perhaps,” another shot, another bison down. That was five. I needed at least fifteen more, to keep Emma out of this man’s clutches. “You made the mistake of judging a book by its cover, eh?”

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His face reddened at that, but he bit off any retort. Instead, he lifted gloved fingers to his lips, and let out a shrill whistle. Of all the things about the man, that act was probably the most impressive I’d seen of him so far. With that sound, he signaled the hunting party to begin their tasks. At the same time, he hefted his larger hunting rifle up to his own shoulder.

“Bold talk,” he said, his voice muffled slightly as his cheek pressed against the side of his gun, “for someone who’s obviously out of his league, and just doesn’t know it yet.” He pulled the trigger, and I watched, curious, to see just what type of rounds he’d use. A massive stone spike, the size of a rail spike far as I could tell as it flew, well, more like punched, through the air. An unsuspecting bison’s neck practically snapped as the round punched into its skull, jerking head and body violently from the force. I couldn’t help but let out a low whistle. The man was an ass, no doubt about it, but that was, if I was being honest, impressive. It was also a type of round I’d not seen before. Meaning, much as I hated to admit it, he had something I wanted to learn.

I put that thought aside as I searched for my sixth target, feeling the pressure build as more and more bison fell, and gunshots and explosions rang out around the herd. It was a race against time, and I was sorely outnumbered. I brought down another bison, loading a seventh round into my rifle just as Mr. Grayson fired a second shot as well. I felt a bit of sweat drip down my neck, as my eyes scanned the area. The bison were starting to run, starting to circle, starting to stampede. Chaos was controlled, of course, by the other hunters and the helpers from the caravan, but it made the targets much more difficult to hit. Especially given the need to precisely puncture their skulls. I brought down a seventh, as I saw two more fall from others. At this rate, I’d downed seven, and Mr. Grayson’s gang had downed four. They were catching up, and quick. I didn’t like the odds. Not one bit.

“No hard feelings, boy,” Mr. Grayson said as he brought down his third, while I took down my eighth. “But your employer gave you an impossible task. I’ll make sure, while she’s apologizing for her arrogance tonight though, to let her know you more than earned your wages.” He paused to look at me, a disgusting sneer on his face. “You’re skilled, no doubt, but one man, can’t outgun an entire hunting party. ‘specially not with a single rifle.”

My anger flared, and I felt heat dance across my knuckles. Luckily, Mr. Grayson’s focus was back on the herd, searching for another target. I found another one, and fired, claiming my ninth, as my mind raced. Something he’d said brought an idea to my mind.

“You’re right,” I loaded a tenth round, while mentally I got to work on the other rounds I’d formed. Since I’d already worked the mana, already formed it, my task was easier. I could do it much faster than starting from scratch. “Luckily for me,” I fired, kicking my heels into Baron even as the round cleared the barrel. I knew it would hit its mark. “I’ve more at my disposal than a single rifle.”