The arrow hit the first wolf in the head, piercing its skull. The wolf collapsed instantly.

Vivi had no idea who’d shot the arrow. She stood stiff, hoping nothing would kill her. For all she knew, she could have been the hunters’ target as well.

Her immediate enemy was the wolves. The rest of the pack panicked as a wolf dashed for Vivi’s head.

She yelled out. For the third time now, Vivi prepared for death to take her.

A figure landed in front of Vivi. The figure drove a sword into the charging wolf’s mouth. The sword pierced right through, and the wolf fell limp.

The figure wore a leather uniform, painted blue. He kicked the corpse off of his blade, then slashed at the next wolf, killing it in one blow. Simultaneously, he collected their ether, growing stronger with each kill.

His blade glowed with ether. It was a thick pitch black greatsword, almost magical by appearance. Vein-like lines were carved into the sword’s black surface. The carvings shone a bright red, giving the sword a needlessly intimidating appearance.

A runesword! Vivi thought, mouth opening in awe. The sword was primitive, made with well-outdated carving methods, but the circular stone on its hilt was undoubtedly a rune-core with a strength rune carved into the surface. A real runesword.

Three of the wolves were now dead. The man faced them alone. His stance was tall and confident—the posture of someone who planned to win. Finally, the remaining wolves took slow steps backward instead of forward.

The wolves turned around, running off into the woods. The man watched after them, making sure they were gone.

The battle was won.

The man turned around to face Vivi.

He was a middle-aged man, wearing a focused scowl beneath his beard. His skin was tan brown with a pitch black blotch of harsh skin on the left side of his face, as if a part of him was scorched out of the world. His eyes glowed orange. He regarded Vivi with hostile suspicion.

Knife-like black horns poked out from his forehead before his hairline. A demon! Vivi thought.

Another demon dropped down from the trees, landing beside the runesword wielder. He was an older man with a shaven face, wielding a bow. His skin was lighter, and his black patches less prominent, though his horns were longer and darker. He wore a grey cloak that hid most of his skin. The cloak and the blue uniform were both marked with some sort of runic symbol.

“A human?” the older man asked. “A little runt? Is she an escapee?”

The runesword wielder sheathed his sword. “I’ve never seen her. I would recognize her if she was an inmate.”

Vivi shivered by the cold, shaking, mud and debris sticking to her wet raincoat. The demons watched her curiously, as if she was someone’s abandoned pet.

Should I stay quiet? Vivi didn’t know. Her heart raced. Lucius had fallen asleep. He wouldn’t be there to help her.

“She’s small,” the older man said. “A girl like her wouldn’t survive one night in Zand.”

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Zand? Vivi thought. The torture prison?

“Who the hell is she, then?” the runesword wielder asked. “What’s a stray human doing here?”

The older man leaned against a tree, sighing. He lit a match and pulled out a pipe from his pocket. “Does it matter?” he asked before lighting his pipe. “She’s a stray human. Those are easy problems. So long as they can’t fight back.”

Vivi flinched.

“We’ll kill her off, then?” the runesword wielder asked.

“And we’ll bring the body as proof of our work,” the older man said.

“Uhm,” Vivi said. “I don’t taste good… Thanks for saving me…”

The demons were taken aback in surprise. “You speak Fimian?” the runesword wielder asked.

I do? Vivi thought. She hadn’t practiced any languages.

Then she remembered something about Ythar’s contract. Translation magic. When forming a tie between a spirit, the wielder gained access to Ythar’s library of languages. Any languages within Ythar’s knowledge would automatically be translated to the wielder’s native language. Vivi’s speech was translated to others. In their heads, she was speaking their native language fluently. Translation magic was said to be almost perfect.

“Uhm, yes,” Vivi lied. “I’ve practiced for a few years. It would be stupid to come down here without knowing the native language.”

“Well,” the older man said, stepping forward. A suspicious expression remained on his face. “This makes questioning a lot easier. Human, what are you doing here?”

“I…” Vivi said. I’m a lost child, kidnapped by the stupidest spirit to exist. I need a ride home...

No, she couldn’t say that. Down below, weakness meant death. “I’m here to grow stronger.”

Both demons raised their eyebrows. Then they burst out laughing.

It was a malicious laugh. The kind of laugh that Fellwater’s bullies used to give when Vivi said something entertaining. Vivi had a bad feeling about these men. She glanced around herself for escape paths. A fight would be useless. The runesword wielder was strong. Vivi had seen his strength first-hand.

Eventually, the demons calmed down from their fit of laughter. “‘Grow stronger’ she says,” the older man said. “This one is funny. Impressive effort, learning our language just to say something so stupid. It would be a waste to get rid of someone so intriguing.”

The runesword wielder frowned. “What do you suggest?”

“Tie her down. I think she deserves a new home.”

“Um, I don’t think you need to do this…” Vivi said. “I don’t mean any harm. I’d like to get on my way back to the third level, if that’s okay…”

“Oh, we can’t have that,” the older man said with a wry smile. “You’ll die, miss. Oh, you’ll die the moment the surgehounds come back for revenge. We can’t let a frail young woman alone into the ether wilds. With us… at least you’ll live for a few days longer.”

Alarm bells rang in Vivi’s head. Lucius? she asked. Are you there?

“Sorry, Vivi…” Lucius’s weak voice said. “I need time to rest. Comply with the demons for now. We’ll escape later…”

Vivi gulped. Another shiver ran through her spine. She trembled. The cold wasn’t getting any better. She was still wet all across, hair ruffled and dirty. She sniffled her runny nose. Her fingers were senseless. All around, she felt awful.

The demons didn’t seem to care. The runesword wielder left to retrieve a backpack from the forest, left a short distance from the fight. Within was a coil of rope. He cut a line of rope with a dagger and faced Vivi.

Vivi offered herself peacefully. The demons tied down her wrists, then her arms to her chest with enough loops of rope to cover most of her upper body. Tying her wrists alone would have been enough, but apparently, her legs needed to be tied together with multiple loops as well. Vivi couldn’t move a muscle.

A length of rope extended from Vivi’s back beneath the loops. The runesword wielder swung the rope over his shoulders, using it as a pulley. Then, the demons began their trot. They pulled the length of rope, as if Vivi was a snow-sled or a handcart. Her body dragged across stone, skin protected only by her raincoat and the thick loops of rope.

Vivi’s body twitched from a bump in the path below as she was dragged further into the forest.