“Well.” Said Spencer in a surprisingly mild voice. “This has been a fucking mess. I assume I have you to thank for that. My information said you were going to be dealing with the lion outbreak.” He glanced at one of the D-rankers. “I could have sworn we sent Weston to make sure that worked out.” Callen had suppressed his aura, still looking to be an E-ranker at first glance.

I smirked. “Oh you did. We already ran into him.” I was pretty proud of what we’d pulled off. “Quite a temper on that one. He just couldn’t keep his head.” I paused, waiting for a reaction. “Sorry, it’s funny because we-”

“Decapitated him.” He cut in. “No, I got that. I’m just not sure why I’m supposed to care. This is why I use disposable minions.” He paused briefly and looked around at the distinctly unamused D-rankers. “What? You thought we were best friends? Please. You’d kill me the second the payment hit your account if I wasn’t a Tolbert.”

I was waiting for the attack, but he hadn’t ordered it yet. “There a reason I’m not dead yet?” I asked, as if I didn’t have a hope of surviving.

“As I said, this has been a mess.” He said frankly. “It SHOULD have been impossible for my cousin to survive this. I didn’t expect to NEED to get involved directly. Something has been tipping things in his favor, and in retrospect it isn’t hard to figure out what. Resources appearing from thin air, powerful fortifications, tunnels, strange turns of luck. I can only think of one ability with that kind of versatility.”

“Poetry.” I said seriously. “You’ve found me out. I write limericks so bad the universe itself has to give in. Tremble before me.”

He didn’t even have the decency to chuckle. Dick. “You’re a Wyndham.” He reached into his pocket, pulling out a small compact mirror, which he flipped open. His eyes scanned over it and he nodded. “As I suspected. A wishmaster candidate.” He sneered at Camden. “Some people really do have all the luck.”

“Maybe it’s karma.” I pointed out helpfully. “I mean last I checked Camden isn’t a child murdering sociopath.”

That got an amused smirk. “Trust me, if karma existed, the world would be a very different place.” He paused. “Well, there’s that lunatic over in the Holy Dominion, but that’s just an ability. And nothing S-rankers do counts anyway. Barring the intervention of the Judgement Pope, the world doesn’t really see fit to punish those who do ‘evil’.” He made air quotes around the word.

I groaned. “This isn’t going to be one of those ‘there is no good or bad there is only power’ speeches again is it? Because those get SO old. Can’t you just own the fact that you’re a scumbag murderer and delight in the suffering of others?”

“If you’d prefer.” He said with a shrug. “But it’s not really about that. I DO think it's amusing when my lessers have to struggle, like watching a bird with a broken wing drown in a birdbath, but I don’t do anything just for my own enjoyment. I never take action unless it benefits me.”

I held up a finger. “Ok, first, no one empathizes with your amusement at watching birds drown, you psychotic lunatic, second ‘I’m just a dick because I’m selfish, not because I enjoy it’ isn’t as reasonable an argument as you seem to think. Now can we get to the part where you offer to team up with me and I tell you to go fuck yourself? Because breathing the same air as someone as rancidly evil as you is genuinely making me feel sick. And my mask has a filter.”

He just sighed. “I’d hoped a member of such a prestigious family would be a bit more willing to look at the big picture, but no matter. Your guardian can’t intervene when your opponents are only Masters.” He smiled. “Did you know that more Wyndhams die at E-rank than any other rank? Being RIGHT on the edge of that watershed is quite dangerous.”

“Maybe.” I said sweetly. “But then again, your advantage is dropping fast. Or did you not notice that you only have two D-rankers left?”

His head snapped around, searching his people…and we attacked. Camden’s sword flashed out at Spencer, but it was effortlessly deflected by the huge man in the black skull helmet standing behind him. The massive spiked club he wielded was surprisingly fast, and sparks flew up as it slammed into the incoming sword.

It didn’t, however, stop the stomp that Callen planted in the man’s gut, sending him hurtling across the room and into a rack of smithing tools with a crash. My sister’s bodyguard was already bringing his weapon down on the smaller, dark haired, dark skinned form of the woman standing on the other side of Spencer as the big man landed.

Step by step, the most talented crusader under the aegis of the Red Revenant Church began to herd the slim, dangerous woman towards the other man.

I stepped off the air, channeling both Mephistopheles and Belial through my armor as my staff blurred forward toward the back of Spencer’s skull.

Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

A man appeared between us, shock on his face as my blow slammed into his open mouth and an explosion of black flame erupted from his eyes seconds before the corrosion of my Belial weakened his skull a bit more and the leftover burst of Mephistopheles black flame blew his head apart.

I grimaced, but wasn’t too bothered. He was a mercenary working for Spencer, after all. The small blonde man was smirking at me. “I AM a noble, Mr. Wyndham. My people are honor bound to see to my safety.”

“He’s an Oathbinder!” Shouted Camden from inside the construct. “He makes contracts that change the mental state of those he ensnares. It’s like a geas!”

I glared at my friend. “That would have been useful information to have BEFORE!” I bellowed. “You didn’t think it might be nice to share?”

He shook his head. “I didn’t know, but I saw the Tolbert crest flash in that man’s eyes. That’s why he looked so surprised. The contract broke when he was in position to take the blow. Be careful, that’s a dangerous power.”

I heard a clash of metal, and looked over to the other side of the anvil to see Anna locked in combat with a very harried and severely injured D-ranker. I hadn’t been bluffing earlier, he had been missing, but apparently Anna hadn’t managed to take him out, just get him out of the way. That was enough for now.

“You going to come help?” I said in annoyance as I triggered Mornax, tanking a spear thrust from one of the ten E-rankers protecting Spencer. It didn’t even leave a scratch, but it didn’t feel great either.

He pointed at Sonia, who shrugged. “Would if we could, but the emergency bunker is time released. It’s the only way we could get it strong enough to tank D-ranked attacks. We had to strip out a lot of the functionality.”

My staff flicked out, smashing aside an attack aimed at Callie’s back as she faded into existence in front of one of the others and tried to eviscerate him. She vanished back into the shadows once she noticed the other attacker, and I felt a flash of frustration from her over the wasted attack.

She appeared behind me, using my stoney form for cover as I glared at Spencer. “You rethinking that whole ‘join up or die angle’?” I asked. “Because I think you’ve really got us on the ropes here.”

To my surprise, he didn’t look even remotely worried. “Disappointing.” He said again. “I’d have thought a Wyndham of all people would know not to judge a situation by first impressions. I assure you, I am quite safe as I am now.”

I’d long since let Belial fade, unable to keep up three different forms at once, but Mephistopheles came to my call easily as I smashed my staff down and behind me, my Danger Sense and Callie’s quick warning more than sufficient to catch the shadowy assassin who had appeared behind me by surprise.

His daggers slammed into my back where my kidneys would be if I was flesh, but they skittered off. The combination of my higher than normal Impact and my absurd defense made Mornax one of my most effective forms, and this guy wasn’t rich enough to afford D-rank weapons…thankfully. He ALSO wasn’t rich enough to afford D-rank armor as the staff jammed into the crevice above his knee and an explosion of black flame tore his fucking leg apart at the kneecap.

He howled in agony, stumbling back and so distracted he didn’t see Callie step from the shadows and open his throat with both daggers, blood fountaining out and splattering across my stony back. Thankfully I don’t think it stained my cape.

“Was that your trump card?” I asked Spencer, gesturing to the assassin choking to death on his own blood. “Because his stealth wasn’t bad to have gotten that close to me with Nightstrike here. She’s good at that stuff. Didn’t seem to matter though, he’s dead and soon you will be too.”

He shrugged. “His death is immaterial. I paid for his service, and he gave it. Perhaps he could have been more useful had he lived, but I found his manner of execution highly amusing.” His eyes raked over Callie. “What a bloodthirsty beauty. I may be in love.”

My girlfriend shuddered, and I shoved my staff toward him, triggering a move I hadn’t used in ages, Steam Arrow, and infusing it with Belial, letting Mephistopheles drop for a moment. Another startled mercenary appeared in its path, tanking the blow and dying with an agonizing scream as his face melted off.

“Don’t talk to her.” I said coldly. “Don’t even look at her. If you keep your fucking mouth shut you’re going to die tonight, and if you don’t I’ll make sure you don’t die for YEARS. Even if you ask nicely.”

I’d wanted Spencer dead since Camden told me what he’d done to his sister, but seeing that disgusting predatory gleam in his fake eyes made me want to tear him apart. I was fucking boiling with anger, and only a current of love and consolation from the bond kept me from losing it. Spencer was a…thing. A monster. He had no limits, no hesitation. Someone like that focused on Callie was the last thing I wanted. He’d haunted Camden for years, and I wasn’t going to let that happen to her.

His gleaming eyes turned back to me slowly, and the light of interest intensified. It wasn’t romantic. He wasn’t suddenly interested in me, any more than I suspected he’d been interested in her. Spencer didn’t want a significant other. He wanted a victim. And I’d suddenly become a more interesting toy to play with.

I didn’t care. I was glad he’d focused on me. I knew Callie could handle herself, but thinking of him eyeing her like that made me sick. His smile was so wide it was almost unnatural, and his eyes finally shed the faux warmth, inhabited by a burning toxic glee. “That was positively barbaric.” He crowed. “How terrifying. Oh, how I wish I could risk such a fate and engage in combat with you myself. Alas, it seems it’s time for me to go.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” I snarled. “You’re never leaving this fucking basement. No one is going to stop me from killing you.” I triggered Pit of despair, knowing Mornax would lose its foundation and would drop out and I would be left semi defenceless in the dust.

To my shock, the Pit didn’t form. Something…smashed into the energy forming the Skill and just kind of washed it away. I was stunned. I’d never felt anything like it. As it happened, I heard a set of footsteps echoing down the steps, and a dark haired man with a goatee and cold amber eyes stepped into view. “Oh really?” He said mildly. And my blood went cold as I felt the weight of his Impact…a weight far above Callen or Annas.