“Damn them all,” Daniel cursed, his hands shaking despite his best efforts.

He was situated between two wooden buildings, hiding from surrounding beasts. The village had grown quiet now, but no doubt there were still predators crawling around. Once again, Daniel sighed, thinking of the task ahead. Just when he had barely survived the trauma of his soul splitting, he had to cast the skill again.

Logically, he understood that a single beast would do him no harm, and it was two that pushed him to the brink. He had conjured his panther a hundred times by now, so the image in his head was crystal clear - if he wanted to, he could do it in less than three seconds. Despite all of that, his mind was screaming at him to not do it, to never use the damned skill again.

It was the wild roar of the wyvern that made him overcome his emotions. In a way, he had died twice already, and the thought of the third time unleashed the phantasmal image from his mind. Bit by bit, he gave the panther life, his soul aching as a part of it temporarily left. Still, unlike the whispers muttered by his darkest thoughts, he didn’t go completely insane just by using it.

Sinking into the mind of the panther, his viewpoint shifted. During the night, he would have had the overwhelming advantage, but the sun was still high above, shining down its merciless beams of light on the bloodbath below. Sneaking up on the monster would be difficult, but, even if he did, he alone wouldn’t be enough to kill it.

Keeping close to the ground, his footsteps were practically silent, and the persistent darkness around him made even the most inquisitive of beasts keep far away. Before long, he heard another screech, and as he glanced up, Daniel saw the apex predator swoop down onto an unsuspecting wolf, tearing the beast’s body to ribbons with its wicked-sharp claws. Then, it turned to him.

A surge of fear and adrenaline rushed through his body. He rapidly whirled around and started running for his life, the world turning a shade of grey around him. Mana moved on its own to conjure a veil of darkness around him, and each step made him sink further and further into it. For a moment, he was nothing more than a shadow.

A rush of air around him announced the presence of the monster. He leapt to the side, the barbed tail of his nightmares carving a deep gash into the ground. Faster, faster, there was no choice but to keep running. Every time the wyvern struck, his instincts would be faster, his body moving to dodge just by a hair’s breadth.

Just when he was about to reach his destination, a wave of pain washed over his soul. From above, a rain of acid burned through his body, which was nothing more than bile spewing from the creature’s mouth. Daniel’s mind was a blaze of pain. It shrieked in rage when it saw that the pesky panther was still alive.

Like an arrow, his body soared through the air. A leap carried his body into the stone church, and the wyvern, drunk with mindless anger, followed after. He glanced at the now-landed monster, its wings too big to properly use here, and smirked. Taking a deep gulp of the darkness around him, Daniel let out a primal roar, guttural and raw. Then, he darted to the only place he hoped would be safe and swapped his consciousness.

The thunderous bang nearly blew out his eardrums, and just a moment later, it was followed by the heavy crash of an entire building collapsing in on itself. He would’ve yelled in joy if not for the horrific agony of getting ripped and torn to shreds rejoining his soul, making him drop to his knees. He embraced the vibrations through the dirt, fighting through the pain assaulting his being as he dashed out of his hiding position, ready for anything. What he saw was a dust cloud that rose into the sky, obstructing a scene of sheer demolition.

Finnean and Corvin peeked out from the buildings nearby, watching with bated breath. A minute passed, then two, and just as he had started to relax, the dying screech of the wyvern rippled through the air, loud enough to disorient everyone in the village. Using its massive claws, it sheared through the stone, crawling out of the rubble of the building. It would stop at nothing to kill them now.

The wyvern had seen better days. Its once mighty wings were now riddled with holes, bent at unnatural angles, and it dragged its left claw along the ground, unable to move it with any strength. The monstrosity let out another belch of acid, melting everything that dared to trap it.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

Before it could fully free itself, a spiralling crossbow bolt embedded itself in its cheek, barely missing its eye. As it screeched, four different cloth puppets emerged from the surrounding buildings, each having an uncanny resemblance to a human. The bloodied puppet’s swords got stuck in the wyvern’s neck while the chained puppet grabbed its tail, holding it still. The other two started hacking away at its body, sewing off chunks of flesh.

And still, it was far from dead. Daniel’s scythe cleaved at its throat, for the first time encountering something it couldn’t shear through. Before he could cast the second one, the wyvern reared up and brought its right claw down on a puppet, demolishing it with sheer weight. With surprising strength, it twisted its body and flicked its tail, sending the chained puppet soaring through the sky.

It began flapping its wings, and when it realised they weren’t working, the wyvern covered the sky with acid, causing the rest of the puppet’s formation to break. The stones beneath it were covered in green blood, rapidly flowing from the numerous wounds - its fate was sealed no matter what they did now.

The creature seemed to have come to the same realisation, and as Daniel’s second spell tore another hole in its neck, the previous rage reached a boiling point. Ignoring everything else in its way, it glared at the Soul Reaper with anger hot enough to melt stone. Neither a crossbow bolt laced with venom nor a lance of darkness made of threads spearing through its body was enough to stop it from leaping off the stone rubble and soaring through the air, wicked fangs tearing towards Daniel’s head.

The sheer force of the impact knocked him to the ground. His body froze. Daniel stared at the wyvern’s jaws, clamped tightly around the soul shield, feeling its breath on his skin. It tingled and burned and smelled of sulphur, burning his nostrils and lungs with each inhale.

When his brain shut off, his instincts took over, and they did the only thing they knew in the face of fear. As the wyvern breathed out the acid, finding it stuck in its mouth, an alabaster arm appeared inside of its throat and grasped a hauntingly blue phantasmal scythe. A trail of blood followed the blade emerging from the monster’s brain. A harrowing screech emerged from its throat, cursing the world around it. Its limbs went slack, its grasp on the shield now feeble.

As Daniel sat on the ground, drawing in shaking breaths, he realised that the assault wasn’t stopping. Spell after spell tore through the monster’s body as the puppets hacked off its limbs. They stopped after he, seeing the light go out from the wyvern’s eyes, yelled that everything was fine. Only then did his companions approach, twitching at every sign of movement.

“Bastard got what it deserves. Good job,” Corvin offered a hand for Daniel to stand up, which he took.

“Sure hope it didn’t have a mate,” Finnean chuckled, provoking a chilling glare from the other two. As casual as he seemed, he was still shaken from today’s events.

“We should gather the bodies and go,” Daniel stated the obvious, kicking at the wyvern. “And by us, I mean Finnean’s puppets.”

“Really doing all the heavy lifting in the party,” he said, provoking a chuckle from no one. Then again, everyone had their ways of dealing with stress.

The next hour for Daniel consisted of scouring the battlefield with Reaper’s Eyes and directing the puppets. Most had died in the middle of the village centre, but there were small skirmishes here and there between predator and prey, and many had gotten trampled in the stampede. When it was all said and done, the number of corpses they had would fill three entire wagons.

“I think we don’t have to worry about the competition coming back with a wyvern,” Finnean said, staring at the packed wagon. On top of it all laid Thalia, bathing in the creature’s dead remains, soaking in their blood. The lizards struggled under the combined weight of it all.

“You sure you’re not coming to the city with us?” Corvin asked, glancing at Daniel.

He sat on top of Finnean’s metal horse, his black robe stained red from all the blood, his back sagged from exhaustion. Still, a faint smile blossomed on his lips.

“I’ve got a small matter to take care of. I’ll be back in time,” Daniel said, meeting Finnean’s eyes, who subtly nodded at him.

“Then this is where we part. Come find me in the Red Cloud and I’ll treat you to a drink and a nice smoke,” Corvin yelled at him as they began taking off back to the city. Daniel simply waved goodbye - hopefully, he wouldn’t be gone for too long. Only now did he turn to the numerous black boxes floating in the air.

137x Medium Soul harvested.

1x Large Soul harvested.

Soul Reaper 6 ---> Soul Reaper 10

Available points: 28

Skill Selection available.