(Charles)

  The bell chimed again, signaling Charles’s departure from the alchemist’s shop. A panicked elf bolted past him on the sidewalk.

  ‘Thief?’ he wohen reized the elf’s tunic; it marked him as a member of the local guild, Nightshade. A guild member moving that fast could only mean trouble. ‘Dyn? No, he’s still in the arborhearth.’ He looked up to see smoke rising into the sky over Mert’s Circle. ‘Should’ve pced a brand when I had the ce.’ Without giving his ht a sed thought, he sprioward where he’d left Dyn.

  As Charles approached, he felt a familiar aura—Dreadfang. He hadn’t expected Dreadfang and Rono to attack within city limits. An unfortunate miscalcution on his part, costly all around. Perhaps if he hadn’t been so exhausted, he would have prepared better. The pair knew his destination and waited for the right moment to strike. Leaving Dyn behind was the moment they were looking for.

  He slowed his pace slightly, uo sense Rono’s aura. ‘Rono’s too cautious. Dreadfang’s alone.’ Charles arrived to find Dyn colpsed on the ground, his arborhearth engulfed in fmes. He steadied his nerves, remembering: Dyn’s self-resurre ability would ki. Charles saw Dyn, covered in arc burns and frostbite—the handiwork of Dreadfang.

  ‘He’ll be fine.’ Charles watched as the body remained unmoving. ‘Probably.’ Dreadfang didn’t hold back during his attack, easily overp Dyn’s mostly mundane stitution.

  The same elf from before was beside Dyn. He held out his hand, casting a spell: Pale turquoise tendrils shot from his fingers, surrounding the chubby man’s body. Dyn’s skin tightened while the bones underh thied, yet, disturbingly, he appeared both gaunt and fat. Dropping to his khe elf bent over to sit Dyn up.

  Dyn’s burnt chest crackled, expanding as he gasped for breath. Between coughs, Dyn asked, “Did you just… resurrect me?” His shirt was in tatters, and arc burns marked his chest. Bck patches of frostbite mottled his nose and lips.

  Charles figured Dreadfang hit him so hard that he fot about his own ability.

  “What?” The elf blinked in shock at Dyn’s self-resurre. “No—I mean, it was close, but I’m sure I got to you just in time.”

  Dyn coughed into his fist. “I’m like y-nine pert sure you—” He noticed Charles. “Oh excrement, he’s here.” Both Dyn and the elf looked up at him.

  Charles reached ihe bag, pulling out a few potions and the grenade. He slipped them into pouches along his belt, tossing the rest of the bag to a very dead-looking Dyn, who grunted as it nded in his p. Then Charles walked up to the engulfed arborhearth and opened another chest, thinking of the resonating dagger he’d need. His Hot-blooded passive kept the heat manageable as he grabbed the dagger and smmed the lid shut.

  Walking away from the burning arborhearth, he dismissed the summon with a thought. With nothio fuel it, the fmes snuffed out.

  Charles held out his arm, summoning his phoenix. Heat coursed from his shoulder to his wrist as the small mythical bird materialized, perched on his arm. [Summon Phoenix] was a Mythical ability from his Fire framework. It summoned a hatg mythical phoenix, as the name implied. The creature was swift, with an ability to sense heat. It made freat, if temporary, scout at this rank.

  The phoeed in a delicate baoo hot, and they’d burn up; too cold, and they’d fmeout. Once summoned, its temperature stantly decayed, with ability activations causing sudden surges of heat.

  Charles leaned in toward the small inferno and whispered, “Find the campfire just outside of town with four heat signatures.” The phoenix took off, flying up into the sky like a fre. Charles would’ve preferred a less fshy summon, but during the day, the bird was hard to see unless you were looking for it. He turo the Nightshade mender. “Watch him.” They simply nodded in response.

  Charles bent doced his hand on the grouo Dyn. A pulsing red circle burned into the ground, sizzling as it spread. [Scorg Brand] was a Dimension ability, also from his Fire framework. It allowed him to teleport back to the brand. He wouldn’t make the same mistake again. If his p awry, he’d use the brand, and they’d have a head start on reag the League of Adventurers’ Hall. Even those fools weren’t dumb enough to attack the League.

  The safe py would be to report the attempted murder of a League-protected refugee ahem sort it out. But he’d pnned for this. It’s why he pushed so hard to get Dyered. They’d made an unfortunate mistake, and Charles inteo capitalize on it. Afterwards, he’d put in a request for Vera as pensation instead of a lootbox. Freeing Vera was his pn all along; stig it to Ebonscale was just a bonus.

  Charles looked up to see his phoenix cirg above an area, signaling that they’d found what they were looking for. ‘That didn’t take long.’ He kheir position. Dropping his aura, Charles sprioward them. A handful of mier, he was stalking around their camp. The phoenix fmed out due to inactivity just before Charles arrived on se. He’d have liked to use its Dive-bomb ability, but held off until he was in position.

  Noting the dire of the breeze, he altered course to stay upwind, ensuring they wouldn’t catch his st. Okamijin were notorious for their well-developed sense of smell. He crept toward them, slow and deliberate, as they argued, activating Locate Weakness on Dreadfang, Rono, and both theropods.

  [Locate Weakness] erception ability from his Dark framework. It detected past physical aal traumas to exploit. He felt bad using it on Vera but couldn’t afford to take the ce with a four on one sario.

  “You idiot.” Rono paced bad forth by the campfire, frustration twisting his features. He kicked a stoo the woods. It skipped past Charles, missing him by two reaches.

  “At least I’m no coward,” Dreadfang growled back, baring his teeth.

  Rono walked right up to Dreadfang, jabbing a fi his face. “I told you we should have reported back to Ebonscale first.”

  Dreadfang loomed over the shorter man. “A him escape again?”

  Rono pihe bridge of his nose in exasperation. “What if Guildmaster Maeve wants to interrogate him?”

  “You think she wants to talk to him?” Dreadfang’s shoulders slumped at the mention of her name.

  Rono spoke softly. “We don’t know what she wants, Dreadfang.” Then his voice hardened again. “Because we didn’t ask!”

  “At least I got revenge for T’anza. She would have wahat.” Dreadfang reached up, toug one of his tribal neckces, as if seeking fort.

  “I’m gd we could make your dead girlfriend happy.” Rono shot back. “We’ll probably be dead before the end of the week.”

  ‘Or sooner,’ Charles thought dryly.

  Vera noticed Charles, about to blow his cover with her usual greeting. Quickly, he brought a fio his lips, signaling for her to keep quiet. Her eyes narrowed, flig between him and Rono. Slowly, she stalked toward the other theropod.

  “Shut it,” Dreadfang said, waving a dismissive hand. “I was in and out. He was just a mundane. I killed him and got away .”

  “And art did this mundane py ia the stronghold?” Rono crossed his arms, his gre demanding a response.

  Dreadfang shrugged. “What does it matter?” he asked dismissively.

  Rono grit his teeth, barely holding his rage. “It matters because that’s exactly what Guildmaster Maeve is going to want to know.”

  “Well…” The okamijin nova took a moment to think, his first one, if Charles had to guess. “I don’t know,” he admitted.

  “That’s my point, you buffoon!” Rono spun away from Dreadfang, pag furiously. “And now we’ll never know.” His fists ched at his sides. “Because you went and killed the only person who had the answer!”

  Dreadfang grunted, his jaw tightening as he realized Rono was right. “Well, they ’t pin it on us. I was in and out quiough.”

  “First off—it wasn’t us—it was you. And sed, because you ’t keep your muzzle shut. Get a round of beer in your belly and you’ll be boasting to Guildmaster Maeve herself. Going on about how you tore out his guts with your own cws.” Rono jabbed a fi Dreadfang.

  “I—I did no such thing. I only punched him, and it wasn’t eveimes.” Dreadfang folded his arms defensively.

  Vera stalked over to the other mount. She s her sister, who cawed and then hissed. Charles had seen this before: Fu-tang had taught all theropod riders to look out for this behavior. Vera was g pack leader, aher Rono nor Dreadfang aying attention. Their only hope was if her sister challehe cim.

  “Knock it off.” Rono picked up a stid chucked it at the two theropods. Vera’s sister hopped out of the path of the stick. The stided harmlessly, but the damage was already done. He’d pissed her off enough to join Vera’s pack. She made a clig noise deep ihroat. Vera had successfully scripted her.

  g Locate Weakness on Vera and her sister, he watched as they quietly positiohemselves, ensuring Rono and Dreadfang were between them. He slipped the sed dagger into ara sheath on his belt and readied his bow. He waited for Locate Weako finish.

  [Dark orb] [Locate Weakness] plete. oints highlighted.

  [Dark orb] Dreadfang is m the loss of his draate, T’anza.

  [Dark orb] Rono is terrified of the theropod, Vera.

  ‘That’s unfortunate,’ Charles thought. He’d hoped to discover a new mental vulnerability. He’d only get one shot before Dreadfang would activate his defense and start shooting dorojectiles. Standing, he took a steadying breath, notched an arrow, and took aim at Dreadfang’s highlighted elbow. Both his arrow and breath released simultaneously.

  Dreadfang howled in surprise as searing pain ripped through his elbow. The arrow’s shaft lodged in the joint, rendering it inoperable. Wasting no time, Charles fired shot after shot, anticipating Dreadfang’s predicted response.

  ‘Stage origger defense.’ Charles aimed for the other oint marked on the okamijin’s hand. The sed arrow went wide. The third missed, but still lodged itself in his thigh. Hitting such a small target at this distance proved exceptionally challenging. The fourth arrow exploded mid-air, shot down by a micro firebolt. At st, the pincushion activated his ranged defensive ability.

  “Traitor!” Dreadfang barked when he saw his attacker. Purple blood trickled from the wound as he growled, yanking the arrow from his leg with his good arm.

  It didn’t hit any arteries. ‘Unfortunate.’ Charles thought. He would’ve liked to see spurts of blood, a sure sign of nig or severing an artery.

  ‘Stage two: separate.’ His inal pn was to take on all four of them in stages, but Vera’s revenge offered a different opportunity. She’d be the wedge to drive both adventurers apart, preventing them from supp each other.

  It was easy to tell when Rono’s aura was active. Teological ptes unfolded along his spine, and the muscles in his arms transformed into steel-cabled fibers, boosting his utacks and blocks. A brawler archetype, Rono was a det fighter.

  Vera crouched low, readying herself to pounce. She let out a sharp squawk at Rono, demanding his attention. This was how she hunted—sowing terror into her prey, f them to flee and givihe perfect opportunity to give chase. Rono’s face paled. A flicker caught his eye; his head so the side as he saw a sed theropod cirg to fnk him.

  “Mother help me.” Rono’s attention bounced betweeroag pack mates. His boots transformed into clove, and he sprinted deeper into the forest, giving Vera exactly what she wanted. She cawed with glee, her eyes gleaming, and both raptors chased after him.

  “Fine…” Dreadfang cradled his wounded arm, watg his partner abandon him. “I’ll do it myself.” He wrestled with the arrow lodged in his elbow, howling in rage as he only worsehe wound.

  ‘Stage three: e healing.’ Charles also knew Dreadfang’s archetype was nova, specializing in area-of-effect damage. He po use that against the okamijin. Taking cover behind a thick tree, he readied another arrow and waited the full sed. Trigory showed the path of the arrow with a crimson line only visible to Charles.

  [Trigory] was the passive ability from his Ranged framework. It dispyed the path of his projectiles, including any ricochets, and activated after one sed of holding a primed shot.

  Charles stepped out from behind the tree, pced the crimson line on Dreadfang’s head, and released his shot. Immediately, he took cover, relying on Proprioception to track what happened . Dreadfang’s defeercepted the arrow again. Charles noted with satisfa that the defensive was still up. Longer cooldowns usually offset longer duration abilities.

  “You’ll die like T’anza,” Charles taunted from behind the tree. “Alone, full of terror a.” He he nova to transform.

  Dreadfang bit at the arrow lodged in his arm, growling as he barked, “Don’t you say her name!” Gripping the arrow’s shaft with his free hand, he whimpered before snapping it. His mangled elbow was now free, the broken arrow tossed to the ground. “I’ll show you terror.” Dreadfang’s growl turned into a cruel ugh.

  Charles o be careful. Thanks to Dreadfang’s aura, the more damage he took, the deadlier he’d bee. Dreadfang preferred to hold off on healing to maximize his damage. This would give Charles the time aructive window he o carry out his pn.

  The rhythmic crag chorus told Charles that his oppo had finally used one of his transformations. White prisms sprouted from Dreadfang, dist his form and c his body. A spectrum of colors danced across the trees, surrounding the area in a dazzling dispy of stiltion. Charles ched his jaw and readied himself for what came .

  Dreadfang tinued ughing, his injured arm still hanging limp at his side. He didn’t need arms for his ability. His crystal shell exploded from his body in a burst of razor-sharp shards, shredding everything they struck. White shards coated all the trees fag Dreadfang.

  ‘How long until—’ The deyed sedary explosion Charles had been waiting for finally erupted, shotgunning bark, wood splinters, dirt, and rocks into the air, further shredding the area. Dreadfang stood on a slightly raised circur pilr—the only ground that wasn’t pelted with shards. The area surrounding him was now cratered, and soil rained down around them both as he kept ughing. Only the rger trees still stood, although stripped of their bark, missing half their trunks, and doomed to a slow, rottih.

  Not even Charles had made it through unscathed. Green blood oozed from minor cuts and scrapes. His clothing had absorbed most of the damage. Ripped, tattered, and full of holes, they wouldn’t protect him again. Unfortunately, Charles needed Dreadfang to do that again.