Xavier lay on the ground, miles away from where he’d been fighting the C Grade Elite Hunt Squad.

  Three arrows, invisible until they’d hit him, had made his right arm, right wing and both his legs completely immobile. Keeping his breathing steady was difficult, but he’d been through worse scrapes. Been in more danger. And he’d come out of it.

  Hadn’t he?

  Xavier pulled the remaining two arrows out of his legs. The skin had already healed around the wounds. Yanking them out caused another bite of pain as the arrows cut through him anew, tearing through muscle and slicing through flesh.

  He tossed the arrows to the side, and they clattered against something metal. A length of chain, cut off by the portal’s closing. It had been a fraction of a second from wrapping around him.

  The Archer of Fortune’s description said she had the ability to mark her targets. Xavier had to assume that meant they would be able to find him. He wouldn’t have long. He lay on an expanse of green, a large clearing in the middle of the forest. Here, not so long ago, he had been training with Volkarin.

  The arrow wounds healed, but the status effect remained. He tried to stand but wasn’t able to. Whatever this status effect was, it was strong.

  Then, an idea occurred to Xavier. His body was absolutely bursting with Celestial Energy from when he’d used Chronomantic Mindforge against the Walking Shield. There were a few things he’d managed to do with his Body Cultivation skill, but he knew there was yet more to discover.

  Challenges always breed innovation.

  Xavier activated his Body Cultivation skill and began flowing the Celestial Energy toward each of the immobile limbs.

  It was in that moment that one of his spells reached the end of its cooldown—Time Alteration.

  He smiled, the wheels in his mind turning.

  Time to get to work.

  ~

  Elspeth Arment shut her eyes and took a breath. She curled her fingers around her bow, the tough material creaking beneath the strength of her grip.

  “The bastard got away,” Bolde said, cursing loudly. “How can he use portals? We locked down the moon!” The man’s armour creaked as he paced back and forth. That one never stepped moving. His class, the Walking Shield, suited him. Though Elspeth often thought of him as the Pacing Complainer.

  Jorgen grunted. “They left something out of the information packet.” Elspeth knew the binding specialist must still be in some pain after her arrow had hit him instead of the intended target. “He must have a Portal spell.”

  “They left a lot out of the information packet,” Illuni, their healer, said in a gentle voice. “I lost time. I don’t know how long.”

  Elspeth, eyes still closed, creased her forehead, then a grin tweaked the sides of her lips. She had marked her quarry, and in her mind’s eyes she could see his location. “He isn’t far, and he isn’t moving. My arrows worked. He’s vulnerable.” She flicked open her eyes and looked at the other members of her party. “We will deal with him swiftly. He was not able to harm us.”

  Bolde was still pacing, his face red. “He shouldn’t have been able to get away in the first place. True Progenitor or not, he is but a child compared to us. He should already be under our capture!”

  The Walking Shield was always sour after he used his Protector’s Last Resort spell. It took a lot out of him. The spell didn’t cost much of his Toughness Energy but rather relied on something more important—it cut down his health by half until it reached the end of its cooldown, and the cooldown varied depending on the strength of the attack.

  Elspeth wasn’t even sure why the man had used the spell, though she knew he had some sense of the power of an attack before it came—that sense had saved them on more than one occasion, as they didn’t always go after D Grades.

  Elspeth tilted her head to the side, peering at Bolde as he paced. “This child couldn’t have made your cooldown that long, could he? An hour? Two?” she chided. “A D Grade is far too weak to actually harm us.”

  The Walking Shield stopped pacing. That got Elspeth’s full attention. His eyes looked serious as he returned her gaze. “A month.”

  Elspeth rocked back on her heels.

  “A month?” Illuni said, a quiver upsetting her gentle voice. “But that…”

  “Would have killed me.” Bolde continued his pacing.

  “That…” Illuni swallowed. “That’s impossible. Isn’t that impossible?”

  Bolde didn’t reply.

  “The mission remains the same, though caution is now in order.” Jorgen’s chains rattled as he turned to face Elspeth. He frowned. It appeared a few links were missing from one of them. “You marked him?”

  Elspeth nodded. She turned in the direction of her quarry, but where she had been steadfast in her resolve a moment ago, now she felt an unusual flutter in her chest. Whatever spell the “child” had cast, it must have been a last-ditch gambit for it to be strong enough to kill a C Grade, for Illuni was right—what the True Progenitor had done should surely be impossible.

  Bolde must be mistaken… But how could he be?

  “Then we move, now.” The Walking Shield looked to Elspeth. “We will crush this child.”

  Elspeth didn’t comment. Jorgen was right—their mission remained the same, no matter what she might feel. Their master would not permit failure.

  She led the way to their quarry.

  Their target did not move as they made their way to him. Her mark ability gave the location of her quarry to within a metre, and he had not shifted once, though she fully expected him to portal away once they got close again. As powerful as her arrows were, they should immobilise the man’s legs long enough that he would be suffering the effects for a full day, but with what this man had done so far…

  Enjoying this book? Seek out the original to ensure the author gets credit.

  Perhaps that estimation would have to be reduced.

  The last information they had gained about Xavier Collins was from a spy that had been sent to Earth, saying the True Progenitor had advanced to D Grade. The spy’s communications had, predictably, stopped after that.

  But even a D Grade True Progenitor shouldn’t have been able to inflict that much potential damage to a C Grade, let alone someone as tough as the Walking Shield.

  He shouldn’t have been able to escape us in the first place…

  Elspeth touched an unadorned, unenchanted ring on a finger on her bow hand. The ring looked different to the other ones she wore. A simple gold band. The only enhancement it had was one that had been added long after its creation—one of self-repair, so it could be robust enough to survive the things she needed to do.

  The Archer of Fortune stopped touching the ring. She could not bear to think about what might happen if she didn’t succeed in her mission.

  Elspeth and her party stopped a little ways from the clearing their target was in. Still, the man hadn’t moved. She had an itch on the back or her neck.

  They switched to mental communication once more.

  Bolde: [He hasn’t moved?]

  Elspeth: [Not an inch.]

  Jorgen: [It feels like we are walking into a trap.]

  Illuni: [How could a newly minted D Grade trap us?]

  Elspeth tired of their worries.

  Elspeth: [Execute Rabbit Trap. We are the hunters; he is the prey. He shouldn’t be moving from that spot.]

  No one hesitated.

  They may have become unsure of their quarry’s capabilities, but they were all sure of their own. One did not become C Grade without becoming sure of themselves. Though one did also not progress so far without a modicum of caution.

  The Divine Helper cast the buff Silent Feet on the entire party. The Walking Shield and the Chains that Bind flanked the clearing, not even their breath making a sound. The Archer of Fortune drew an arrow from her quiver. Another with the Invisible enchantment. These were expensive, as she could only use arrows befitting her grade. Anything else would be destroyed by the power of loosing the bowstring—she’d tried a lower grade arrow before; the string had sliced straight through it, bisecting it in two. But despite the price of these arrows, she deemed it worth the cost.

  She had seen some archers summon arrows directly from their Storage Ring, and knew such a method had some merit when it came to speed, but she much preferred the use of her quiver. Her arrows gained certain advantages the longer they remained inside that quiver.

  Bolde and Jorgen communicated that they were in place.

  It was time to take this upstart True Progenitor down.

  ~

  Bolde Grainit loosened the grip on his warhammer as he sprinted into the clearing. On the opposite side of the clearing, Jorgen, their binding specialist, also began his sprint—though he was nowhere near as fast as Bolde.

  Distract, disable, detain.

  That was what the Rabbit Trap play boiled down do. Bolde was the distraction, their foe was already disabled, and Jorgen would detain him.

  This task should be an easy one, yet Bolde felt an uneasiness in his chest as he ran toward their target on silent feet.

  Xavier Collins sat in the middle of the clearing, his legs folded beneath him, hands resting on his knees. The wings at his back—another damned thing that hadn’t been in the information packet about this man—were slightly folded, heaving up and down as he breathed.

  The man’s eyes were closed. Why would the man’s eyes be closed?

  Illuni deactivated Silent Feet on him and him alone. Bolde released a loud battle cry, one connected to the spell Bait. He’d had this spell since he was F Grade, and it rarely failed him. Getting aggro from a beast was always easier than getting it from a human, but it still tended to be effective. Especially against those of a lower grade.

  Xavier Collin’s eyes flicked open. He stared directly at Bolde. He did not look enraged, as Bait should have made him. No, a smile curled the sides of his lips as he made eye contact.

  Bolde raised his warhammer and waited for Jorgen’s chains to whip out. But something was wrong. Jorgen was frozen in time, his chains surging toward the enemy stuck in the air. Had Xavier Collins used the same spell on Jorgen that he’d used on Illuni?

  Bolde: [Jorgen?]

  Bolde spotted a translucent barrier around him and his target and knew what had happened. The man had altered time, but this wasn’t the same spell he’d used on their healer.

  Bolde grinned back at the insane D Grade. “Really want to be stuck in here with me?” He raised his warhammer, running toward the damned child, ready to make quick work of his mostly incapacitated target.

  Then Xavier rose from the ground. Bolde’s eyes widened. Elspeth’s spell should have lasted longer than that!

  He did not stop his run, however. It was time to show this child what a C Grade was capable of.

  Xavier did not move from where he stood. He tilted his head to one side as the Walking Shield sprinted toward him, an unstoppable force. “You’re mistaken. You’re the one stuck in here with me.”

  The D Grade True Progenitor moved with more speed than should have been possible. He slipped away from the Walking Shield’s strikes. Pain flared in Bolde’s back, and his already gritted teeth ground tightly together.

  How did he slice through my armour?

  The Walking Shield activated some defensive, barrier spells.

  Ones that, in other fights, he might have already had active. But he hadn’t anticipated this man to be able to cause him pain.

  Fool. I should have known, after I needed to use Protector’s Last Resort. That spell would have killed me.

  As the barrier spells sprung up around him, he whirled like a dervish to slam his warhammer into this bastard’s head.

  Xavier slipped under his attack with a fluid ease that belied his grade. He slashed out at the barrier, and it wasn’t a scythe-staff that he wielded as the information packet had said—it was claws.

  Bolde’s eyes widened as the slash slammed into his barrier spells. He could feel the power of it—one of his skills. It damaged one of his barrier spells by 20 percent, the other by 10.

  This is insane. This shouldn’t be.

  Bolde was a tank. The damage dealing he left to Elspeth. Still, he had a few heavy hits in him. He cast Hammer Slam. He swung his hammer at the dirt beneath his feet. The ground rocked, and a wave of power emanated from the point he’d struck.

  That wave shot toward his enemy.

  Xavier was knocked back, but the bastard child didn’t fall. His wings caught him, bringing him into the air, and that same grin was on his face.

  Bolde stared up at the child. He didn’t have long ranged attacks. He’d never needed them. “Fighting is futile,” Bolde said, his voice a deep growl. “You cannot defeat us. Give up now, and you won’t be so battered when we take you to our master.”

  Bolde hated calling the B Grade he was death-contracted to his master. Serving another was never something he wished. But had he not signed that contract, his entire planet would have been destroyed.

  A shield protects. And a protector does not let that happen.

  The D Grade True Progenitor did not look afraid. He looked… Excited, as though overtaken by something.

  Battle lust.

  He is insane. He should have kept running.

  Bolde checked his cooldowns and froze—his cooldowns weren’t moving. The time spell had stopped them from progressing. He cursed under his breath and leapt into the air at his flying target, releasing a bellow of rage.

  He was starting to feel a hint of fear.

  His enemy did not slip away. Instead, he lowered his head and swooped toward Bolde, meeting his attack.

  ~

  Jorgen’s chains whipped out, but hit nothing but air. His target was no longer in the same place. His eyes darted around, and it took him a moment to realise what the hell was going on.

  Then he spotted a body lying in the grass, slashed, beaten, battered. The man’s armour had dozens of long gouges in it. Blood stained that armour, pooling beneath him, dying the green grass red.

  Bolde, the toughest one among them, their tank, was dead. Jorgen struggled with that reality, his mind grasping for how it could be possible.

  Xavier Collins hovered in the air, staring intently at Jorgen. The man was unharmed, the limbs Elspeth had immobilised working perfectly fine.

  And he was grinning.

  Accidental Champion!

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