The wait was nearly unbearable, but Prime exercised as much patience as he could while staring at the illusion that Light had created above the table. The others also appeared impatient, with Fire especially squirming in her seat, but he ignored them all. It was only a matter of time before the contracted target left the building, and then they would be able to see it completed—

“We have movement. Teams are prepared.”

The entire Unspoken Response Council watched as a man emerged from the roof hatch leading down into the building, before heading toward the floating wooden contraption that the target had used to travel so quickly. Prime, along with the ambush team, could see that this man wasn’t their target, so they didn’t spring the ambush, but he could see them on the edge of the illusionary projection, just waiting for their opportunity. Fortunately, they didn’t have to wait long, as at the next moment, a much taller figure appeared through the hatch, and it was a match for the contract.

“Now! Get him!” he shouted, though there was obviously no need. One: Because they couldn’t hear him, and two: The ambush teams were already on the move.

Twenty separate Mana Siphons suddenly appeared around the rooftop, pulling in the ambient Mana in the environment. Not only would these Siphons completely starve whatever Fusions this “Fusionist” had prepared, completely wiping out any available ambient Mana within around 300 feet, but they would also absorb any Mana coming from Mages that was sent into spell patterns, making spellcasting useless. A strong-enough individual with a high Mana Control Skill could maintain control of their Mana against one or possibly two Mana Siphons, but not even a Gergasi could handle twenty of them simultaneously. Of course, that wouldn’t really bother a Gergasi all that much, considering that they also had enough Stama and Battle Arts to wipe out the entire Unspoken Response organization with their hands tied behind their backs, but the effect still applied.

The illusionary images that Light was projecting began to distort slightly as the swirling whirlpools of multicolored suction that denoted the Mana Siphons did their work, requiring the Council member to back up her view of the area until they were looking down from a greater distance to get out of the field of effect. It was disappointing to not have as close of a look at the demise of their target than the distance of about 500 feet, but at least the image had stabilized a bit.

And what a view it was. Their target was surrounded by the Mana Siphons, completely frozen in place as all the Mana was sucked out of the environment, as well as starving the Fusions that he might have; he couldn’t cast spells, either, so the only recourse he had was to fight hand-to-hand. Unfortunately for him, they had planned for this, with a force of over 40 elite Martials, unmatched in their fighting skills; and even now they climbed up from the perimeter of the building, emerging onto the roof already at a run.

This is it.

In less than a second, even as the area was suppressed by the removal of all Mana by the Siphons, the 40 Responders converged on the target, a third of them striking simultaneously from all sides, while another third jumped into the air with Battle Arts, creating powerful arcs of pure force produced from Stama, sending them slamming into the target. The last third hung back and would take the place of any who fell in battle, but Prime doubted that they were going to be needed.

The incredible coordination and expertise of the Responders absolutely tore through the target, hitting him so hard that… he was absolutely obliterated?

“What happened? Where did he go?” Fire asked, slamming her fists down on the table.

That was what Prime wanted to know. One second, the target was there, and then the next he was gone. Prime looked for any trace of the target from the culmination of the attacks, but he couldn’t see anything. As impossible as it was, it was almost as if the figure had been the product of an illusion-based spell, but no illusion would’ve held up for more than a second in the face of so many Mana Siphons.

“Responder 18 is dead,” Nature suddenly announced. Because of the methods she used to extend the lifespan of the members of Unspoken Response, she had a link to each and every single one of them. When one of them died, she could instantly tell when that connection was broken. “Responder 152 is… 86… 111…” she continued to rattle off names in rapid succession, but Prime didn’t see any of the Martials on the roof down.

The Mages!

“Light! Move your vision to—” he began, but the Council member was already doing so. It only took a half a second to discover that the 20 Mages that had been a part of the ambushing force, with most of them on standby to bombard the area once the Mana Siphons did their job, were lying on the roofs and balconies of the nearest buildings, unmoving and with pools of blood spreading out from underneath them. From what he could see of their wounds, and with his many, many years of experience leading an organization of assassins, each and every one of them seemed to have had their throats cut and a blade or weapon of some kind shoved through their backs, straight into their hearts.

They were all dead before they hit the floor.

It had all happened so suddenly and with such violence that he felt like there had to be some evidence of what or who had done it, but there was absolutely no trace of the culprit or culprits – at least not in the view that Light provided them. Even the floating wooden contraption had disappeared, shooting straight up into the air and out of sight. What was worst of all, none of the Martials seemed to be aware of their teammate’s deaths, as the Siphons were still active; they only required an initial cast to get them up and running, and they would last for a few minutes before collapsing in on themselves.

Fortunately, there had to have been at least a millennium of experience across the remaining Responders, and as soon as their target – as well as the first man that had come out of the hatch – had seemingly disappeared, they flew into action. Sprinting for the roof hatch, they threw themselves down the ladder, disappearing inside. Unfortunately, Light’s ability to see everything the light touched was limited to sunlight and moonlight, so all they could see inside was the initial entrance, as the rest of the top floor was apparently only lit by magical illumination. At the distance they had to maintain to ensure the stability of the illusionary projection, there really wasn’t much to see.

“What’s happening—?” Fire screeched, but she was cut off as something occurred in the projection before it was abruptly cut off. An enormous explosion seemed to tear through the top floor and possibly some floors below it, sending fragments of stone blasting in all directions. The strangest thing about it was that it wasn’t a fiery explosion, like he was used to seeing, but one that was virtually invisible, as if it was made of air. When the leading edge of the explosion reached Light’s viewing height, the illusionary image disappeared.

“Light! Show us what’s going on!” Prime demanded.

Light shook her head for a moment, as if she was dazed and was trying to shake it off. “Hold on. I’m trying to reestablish my link.”

“Responder 23 is dead. So are 49… 101… 13…” The list that Nature rattled off wasn’t as extensive as when the Mage Responders had died, but it was still approximately a third of the Martials that had entered the building.

Prime was up and out of his seat, leaning over the table toward Light. “Hurry! We need to know what’s happening to them!”

She didn’t even seem to hear him as she had her eyes closed, but a few seconds later, the illusionary projection she had up before flickered into life again. When he could focus on it, he witnessed the remaining 25 or so Martial Responders fighting for their lives – and they were losing.

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Badly.

Despite their high Body stats, many of them had been wounded in one way or another, most likely from the explosion, and bloody bodies were scattered all around the damaged top floor of the building. Those who were still on their feet had visible wounds that were bleeding, as well as clearly broken arms, cracked ribs, and damaged legs, and they were being pressed back by an individual who moved like a whirlwind, a halberd in his hands that lopped off appendages with each strike like he was de-limbing a fallen tree.

For as fast as the Responders were, their target was even faster. Strikes against him that managed to get through his defenses, of which Prime was happy to see were quite a few considering the strength and speed of their target, nevertheless seemed to pass right through him as if he was an illusion.

But illusions couldn’t inflict the kind of damage that tore into his forces.

If it was just their target fighting the remaining Responders, that would’ve been bad enough, but it wasn’t just him. Those whom the contracted target had brought along with him were also there, surrounding Prime’s forces and harassing them to the point where they were forced to defend themselves. There were a few Martials included among those attacking his people, who seemed to be the biggest threats, including a man from the Kingdom in full plate armor wielding a sword and shield, a female Kingdom-born archer, and what appeared to be a Jaroupa, a dark-skinned woman with striking blue hair, who wielded a greatsword like it weighed nothing.

None of these three were a match for his Responders one-on-one, if only because they lacked the skills and experience in fighting other people to gain any type of advantage, though they were dangerous in their own right. The majority of the others, however, were pathetic when it came to their Skills and fighting prowess. If he had to guess, they were brand-new Martials that had just barely unlocked their potential shortly before accompanying the target to Kilvering.

Despite their ineptitude, his Responders couldn’t touch them. Instead of absolutely tearing through their numbers, his forces’ attacks either passed right through them all or were absorbed by what appeared to be a shield that surrounded them, making them all appear slightly distorted in the light. How are they doing this?! There’s no Mana in the environment for spells or Fusions!

The Council chamber was silent as they watched as the remaining Responders were whittled down to just a handful. Prime clenched his hands tightly together in disgust when the last three living Martials, each of whom had been with the organization for multiple decades, saw their deaths approaching and attempted to flee. But three of the target’s companions lifted a bent steel rod that appeared slightly familiar, before pointing them at the fleeing Responders. One moment, the three Martials were bounding away, attempting to jump over the heads of the nearest attackers, and the next they were caught by something that caused them to bunch up into a tight ball, which quickly seemed to collapse in on itself, turning them into a compacted sphere of metal, leather, flesh, and blood.

“All Responders in the field have perished,” Nature said in the deafening silence that filled the Council room.

It had all happened so fast that he could barely understand how it was possible. The other attacks upon their target had all been fast failures, as well, but until this point they had been unable to actually watch it happen. Too much magical interference had prevented them from viewing the actual attack after the initial ambush; this time, he figured the Mana Siphons – despite forcing them to extend their viewing range – would have managed to disrupt the interference enough that they could actually watch.

Unfortunately, it didn’t help; if anything, it just made it worse as a hundred questions ran through Prime’s mind. First among them was how they seemed to be able to cast spells or use Fusions when it shouldn’t be possible for them. Even his forces, which utilized a technique that was developed by Shadow to pull in and expel energy away from their bodies so as to camouflage their magical signature, would be useless if they had to rely on Mana, so how was it possible that something as ridiculous as a Fusion could still work?

Then there was the explosion and how it was created, the way an illusion seemed to work to fool his Responders, the shield or whatever it was that negated damage that surrounded their target, and a number of other questions that he didn’t dive into too deeply into right now. The urge to know the answers warred with the fact that a large percentage of the Unspoken Response forces had just been slaughtered…

…and the contracted target was still alive and seemingly in perfect health.

No one said anything as they slumped back in their chairs, watching as the target and his companions searched through the bodies of the Responders for anything that might be of use, before slipping whatever they found into bags hanging off their belts. Despite the disaster of an ambush, Prime perked up when he saw this, as they were shoving long weapons into the bags that definitely shouldn’t have fit, which made him wonder if there was some sort of spatial expansion going on with them – though how anyone could create a stable spatial pocket to store things was beyond him. Then again, they were hunting someone named “The Fusionist,” so if anyone could, it would likely be him.

While that didn’t explain how they were still able to use the Fusions regardless of the Mana Siphons that were slowly starting to collapse above them, it ultimately didn’t matter in the long run. What mattered was that their target was even more powerful than they were led to believe, and if they were to succeed in fulfilling the contract, Prime and the rest of the Council would have to get involved. He didn’t see another way.

When the Mana Siphons finally collapsed in on themselves, it was like a lever had been pulled as he looked around at the Council. Everyone but Nature and Earth, the latter of whom had passed out after transferring the Responders, looked sick as they continued to stare at the illusionary projection. They could see the writing on the wall as well as he could, and he held back the urge to say, “I told you so.”

Now they had a decision to make. Abandon the contract, forfeiting nearly 1,000 years of rules, honor, and tradition within the Unspoken Response organization – or going out to fight this Fusionist, who seemed nearly impossible to kill by any normal means.

“So… here we are. Planning for our next attempt has to begin now, before he grows any stronger—” he began, but he was cut off by a gasp by Light.

He looked up at the projection, unsurprised to see that she had lowered the viewpoint so that she was only about 50 feet above the ruined building and the massacre of Responders, attempting to glean any information about their target that could be used as a weakness. That was all normal, of course, because 90% of their success in the past had been because of information-gathering and planning, with the last 10% a flawless execution; Prime wasn’t sure how much this would help them, however, given how powerful this individual was.

What wasn’t normal, however, was how their target was looking straight up, seemingly looking Prime straight into his eyes as he sat back. It was almost as if he could see what Light was doing.

The next thing that happened pretty much confirmed that.

While there was no sound, Prime could clearly lipread the words coming out of the target. “Ah. There you are. Clever.”

And then he tilted his head slowly, his eyes tracking something in the air, as his gaze turned toward the southwest.

Right towards where the Council and the hidden mountain stronghold of the Unspoken Response organization was holed-up.

The illusionary projection abruptly disappeared as Light gasped again, sounding like she was drowning as she sucked in lungful after lungful of air to catch her breath. “He… he tracked me all the way back here somehow!” she finally managed to get out as she calmed her breathing. “That should be impossible!”

That was a word that had certainly come up more than once in his own mind over the last few minutes, and he wasn’t sure how to respond. If what Light had said was true, however, then it would only be a matter of time before their target came looking for them. He knew his kind well enough; revenge would drive him to correct the wrong that the Unspoken Response organization had inflicted upon him. Normally, Prime saw this in friends and relatives of those who had ended up as a contract, but never had this happened before.

A sense of foreboding settled over the Council as they felt the attention of the Fusionist fall upon them all. Prime knew that it was most likely just his imagination, but he couldn’t help but think that the personification of death had just looked his way and decided that his stay in this world had just expired.

He shivered for a moment before he settled his nerves, his mind working furiously to figure out how to survive this man’s arrival. All of the arrogance of his position drifted away as he considered what he would and wouldn’t do to kill the target and keep his life intact afterward. Abandoning the contract was no longer an option now.

Unfortunately, after almost a minute of incredibly fast contemplation, Prime realized that there was only one way that they could possibly survive the Fusionist when he came after them. It was probably just as dangerous, but it was the only chance he could see that might succeed.

“Nature? Do you still have any of our old contacts? I think it’s about time we reached out.”

Nature stared at him for a moment as everyone looked at Prime in dawning horror at what he was proposing.

Then she nodded.