The apparition of ghastly flame surged forward, pounding against Nathan’s former opponent, like a drummer leading the marching band of the dead. Small bursts of fire erupted in a ring around each strike as the thug was beaten down, rocked side to side with each battering ram of a fist.

A bolt whizzed through the air, puncturing through the Echo, and shooting out the other side. The Echo let out a furious howl as a gout of the green flame surged from the hole in it, and its form seemed to grow dimmer. It continued to beat on the dying man below it with the fury of a raging bull.

The fight around them had grown calmer. Raff had pushed Arnold into a corner and was anxiously glancing back and forth between the tavernkeep and the Echo. Both of Cleo’s opponents had stopped completely, turning to look with fear in their eyes at the man-shaped inferno that was currently beating the life out of their companion.

Cleo promptly took the opportunity as an invitation to stab one of them through the neck.

The body hit the floor, thrusting everyone back into chaotic motion. The Echo took another bolt through it, further weakening its flaming body down to a flicker. Whatever magic was powering the Echo, it was already nearly spent.

Life fled the eyes of the thug beneath the Echo as one last hit finally did him in. No rush of energy surged toward Nathan, no stream of power. The man just died.

120 EXP gained

Over a hundred experience gained, but no level up? Last time it had only taken one hundred to reach level one.

So I gain experience when an Echo kills something for me, but I only gain an Echo when I kill someone myself. Or is it only when I kill using my own flames?

A thrum echoed through Nathan’s head. The eyes of the Echo, like little burning cinders, stared back toward Nathan. Dark and haunting green. Desire and expectancy swirled within them. It wanted something.

But Nathan could not tell what. He could not give it what it wanted. The air flickered around the Echo, and it burned away, leaving nothing more than a smokeless silhouette looming over a corpse. Its magic, however, did not dissipate.

A thin stream of power, like a spiderweb dripping with morning dew, stretched from Nathan’s chest to where the Echo had been. A connection. A Thread.

Heat rushed through the Thread and into Nathan. He stiffened, his eyes widening in shock. This one was different from the others, there was no healing, no feeling of rejuvenation. Just red hot heat.

Echo Ushered.

Power gained: Increasing physical strength permanently by 4%

Ability temporarily gained: Fury of the Flames.

Fury of the Flames: Blood turns to fire in your veins. Your muscles work in overdrive, making you move faster and hit harder based on your internal body temperature. Lack of control can lead to overheating.

Echoes Stored: [1/3]

Total Echoes Ushered: [1/2]

Nathan let out a gasp, a puff of steam escaping his lips. “Oh boy,” he said, pulling in a deep breath through his nose. “Now this is interesting.”

They had come under the cover of night, expecting a six against one, looking to threaten Arnold into submission. This was never supposed to be a fair fight.

A bolt slammed into his shoulder with a thud, but Nathan ignored it, a force stronger than adrenaline surging through his veins. His eyes shot up, latching onto the man frantically reloading his crossbow.

He sprinted toward the thug, his body pulsing with waves of heat every time his heart beat. A sheen of glistening sweat was already slick upon his skin. His movements were quick. His body, warmed up and limber, was moving with a muscle memory that had long lay dormant – but not forgotten.

Nathan slipped to the side as another shot sailed through the open air colliding into the counter in a spray of splinters. Minerva screamed bloody murder. The assassin roared, veins bulging and pulsing with heat, as he dashed toward the lone thug.

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

The cloaked man abandoned his crossbow, throwing it to the ground. He pulled a thin blade from a scabbard at his side, brandishing it at the charging assassin. His hand quivered as he drew the weapon, feet taking a single unsteady step backward.

Nathan dipped to the side as the thug’s blade flashed past his face. It was a weak strike. There was no confidence behind it.

He knows they’re beaten, Nathan thought as he aimed a strike right at the man’s undefended vitals. The man tried to react, but even without Fury of the Flames, he would have been too slow.

Fist connected with ribs and Nathan heard a crack, followed by a sickening groan from the man. His fist burned, veins bulging and ruby red. It was like his whole body was a boiling steam engine.

Sweat poured from Nathan’s brow. Ignoring the lack of control warning had not been the wisest move. A wave of steam rose off of his skin, making the air above him hazy, like pavement on a hot day.

The cloaked figure slid down to his knees, hands cradling his side. “Please,” the thug groaned, his voice hoarse.

“You had your chance,” the assassin said as the man crumpled at his feet. “And you chose this fate.” He pulled a bolt from the quiver hanging at the man’s side, flipped it around in the air and then jabbed it into the man’s neck, silencing his groans.

113 EXP gained

Level Up!

He didn’t gain an Echo.

Seems I have to kill with the flames to get an Echo. Good to know.

As the thug’s body slumped to the ground, Nathan took another look around. Cleo was wiping clean a blade that she had stolen from the corpse at her feet. Arnold was breathing heavily, bleeding from multiple wounds across his body, as he glared at Raff.

The leader of this group of thugs had stopped fighting Arnold. He stood in the center of the room, surrounded on all sides, the main exit blocked by Cleo.

“You stupid… stupid bastard,” Arnold chuckled.

Raff looked toward Cleo and then Nathan with narrowed, nervous eyes, ignoring Arnold behind him. The old tavernkeep didn’t look to be in any shape to continue the fight. “Who are you?” Raff asked, holding his blade at his side. “Since when did Arnold have fucking bodyguards?”

“They ain’t my bodyguards,” Arnold spat from behind Raff. The thief leader didn’t even bother to turn around.

“Just friendly patrons that don’t want to see anyone get pushed around,” Nathan said.

“Then who are you? Did those Viper bastards send you?” Raff said, his gaze flitting between the dead bodies of his companions.

Cleo closed and locked the front door, causing Raff to curse under his breath. “It doesn’t matter who we are,” Cleo said, a cruel smile splitting her lips.

Raff dropped his blade, holding his hands up in resigned surrender. “You’ve already won, alright? No need to kill me as well. Let me go and I can give Fallon a favorable report. Tell him that one of our men idiotically swung first and you just defended yourselves.”

“Bullshit,” Arnold growled, leaning on his ax like a cane.

Raff clenched his jaw, moving his gaze to Arnold. “I’m doing you a favor, you fool. Do you think Fallon would look kindly to you slaughtering his men like this?”

“He provoked this! He knew we wouldn’t be able to pay that much.” Arnold yelled. Minerva rushed over to his side, then helped him sit down in a nearby wooden chair.

“That’s not how Fallon will take it,” Raff replied, shaking his head. “From what he sees, your boy has murdered several of his men now. Low rank scum or not, that is not something he can simply overlook. He had to make a statement, and now you’ve killed–” Raff pointed at each of the bodies in the tavern, counting them, “– five more. What do you think he’ll do next?”

Nathan sighed, feeling the heat dissipate from his body, its energy spent. The magic left him, following the Echo to whatever its next destination was.

I don’t seem to get the Echoes back when they disappear. At least for now, their benefits are only temporary. Which means I should get more. He grinned. And I’d bet it works on magical beasts as well if they have those in this world.

“He’s right,” Nathan said, the words even surprising himself. “Killing this ugly shit will just ensure even harsher retaliation.”

Raff slightly pursed his lips and nodded. “Thank you… I think.”

Arnold slammed his fist against the wall. “I’d sooner trust a fox to guard the henhouse!”

“I swear it!” Raff yelled, frustration seeping into his voice. “Just let me live and the Night Hunt will not blame you for this night.”

“And why should we believe anything from your lying mouth?” Cleo asked, stalking forward like a predator, eyes set on its prey.

Raff swallowed. “What do I have to gain from saying otherwise? I’m just a mid-level guildsman, alright?”

“That’s exactly why you have so much to gain,” Cleo said. She moved toward Raff, sauntering up to him until they were mere inches from each other. “But this should keep you obedient.”

Cleo took the man’s hand in hers, bringing the back of it up to her lips and kissing it. Raff stood still, an odd mixture of terrified and confused.

What the hell is she doing? Has she finally gone crazy? Took her long enough.

Then, Raff screamed as Cleo drove her blade up and through the man’s palm.