Elspeth whirled around.

  Elspeth: [Illuni? Where the hell did you go?]

  Illuni: [I don’t know! But he’s coming back!]

  Elspeth could feel the Divine Helper’s panic even through their party-connected Communication Stone. Illuni had always been prone to panicking, but never to this degree. She was, after all, a C Grade—and a very competent one at that, despite the way Elspeth thought about her.

  Elspeth had felt her target, marked, jump a great distance away—maybe a thousand miles—and he was already back, soaring through the air above her.

  She’d made it back to her feet after one of her own damned arrows had hit her in the leg. How stupid could she be? She’d seen what the man could do with portals. Seen how he’d been able to divert her arrows in the past, yet she’d gotten hit by her own damned attack!

  If not for Illuni, one of her legs would be completely useless right now. But the Divine Helper had been spirited away through a portal. She was too far away to help. She could cover the distance quickly, return to the fight—but she wouldn’t be fast enough.

  The fight would be long over by the time Illuni reached them.

  Elspeth was furious. Mostly, she was furious with herself. She had been sent on so many easy snatch-and-grab missions where her Elite Hunt Squad was at least ten times as powerful as the person they were sent to retrieve. Not once had they encountered a problem.

  Because of this, she’d let herself become soft. She’d let her mind become slow. Let her old tactical mind dissolve to nothing more than point bow, loose arrow, repeat.

  A perfectly good strategy when you were up against someone far weaker than yourself and your party. But up against this D Grade Progenitor?

  He’s far more than he seems. Far more.

  Being death-contracted to The Collector had made her a shell of her former self.

  The man landed in front of her. She stumbled backward and hated herself for it. Fear flared in her chest at the sight of the dragonkin.

  A bloody D Grade made her afraid, but there was no time for her to feel shame for that.

  She touched her thumb to the ring on her finger, resigned to her fate. Jorgen stood not far away, still under enemy control, simply staring, blank-faced at her.

  “How?” Elspeth whispered. “How are you so powerful?” And how did I become so weak?

  Xavier Collins just stared at her. There was something terrifying in his gaze. The way it pinned her. She felt like the weak beasts she’d used to hunt in her youth—the ones that knew they weren’t a match for her. The ones that saw her and fled from her arrows, rather than stand and fight.

  They never fled far enough.

  I am the prey now.

  The will to run was so strong. Stronger than she’d ever felt it. But she didn’t let herself run. She didn’t fight, either. Maybe her former self could have defeated this man—especially if it were a fight to the death, not one where she was shackled with the mission to preserve his life for The Collector—but her skills had dulled, and it wasn’t only Xavier Collins she was up against.

  Jorgen was under his control. The binding specialist was just as powerful as she was. They’d sparred many times in the past, and she’d never been fast enough to avoid his chains at this range.

  Something flashed in the man’s eyes. A spell, she was sure of it. But knowing that didn’t help her. Suddenly, the fear she felt intensified tenfold. The urge to run was ever more powerful, now. Despite everything, despite her contract, despite what was at stake back home…

  Her legs trembled.

  “You can’t surrender,” the man said. “And I’m sorry for that. But you’ve marked me, and I can’t let you live. Not when you have the ability to track me.”

  Elspeth didn’t run. She held her ground. Despite the fear in her chest. Despite the tremble in her legs. If she ran, she would be breaking the contract. Lives that weren’t her own would be at stake.

  If she stood her ground, the contract would be fulfilled. Her deal with The Collector would come to an end.

  Her family would live.

  Instead, she drew an arrow from her quiver and touched the nock to her bowstring. She knew this small act of defiance would do nothing, but it was an act she felt compelled to perfom.

  The rattle of chain came from her left. Jorgen. One of his damned chains hit her in the arm, and suddenly her whole body was immobilised. Not only that, she couldn’t cast a single spell.

  She fell, uselessly, to the ground.

  The dragonkin loomed over her. The look in his eyes was still there, piercing her, but there was something else, too. Something that made her doubt herself—was that… Sadness?

  “I’ll make your death as swift as I can.”

  Elspeth found that the man was true to his word.

  ~

  Xavier looted the woman’s corpse, taking her Storage Rings, her bow, her quiver. He left the woman’s armour on. It felt wrong to disgrace her body like that, despite the fact that a C Grade’s armour would be worth quite a lot. He wondered why he hesitated.

  This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  He looked over at Jorgen. His Willpower Infusion spell would only last for so much longer. It had done its job well. Turned out he’d only needed a couple of minutes to deal with the Archer of Fortune, and the Divine Helper… Well, he’d gotten her out of the way with ease.

  He rose to his feet after kneeling over the body. Something about that fight had felt… Too easy, despite the fact that twice during it he’d almost been captured.

  There was something strange about this C Grade Elite Hunt Squad. It wasn’t only the fact that they didn’t seem to work together well, either.

  Rhaalir stood to the side, peering down at the woman. Her heart wasn’t in it.

  Xavier blinked, looking over at the elf spirit. What do you mean?

  Rhaalir frowned at him, a look of confusion on his face. Couldn’t you tell? He gestured to the fallen C Grade Archer of Fortune, then at the Chains that Bind. These are C Grade Denizens. You’re powerful… I don’t doubt your abilities against them. Not anymore. But they weren’t fighting to their full potential. I could feel it. He inclined his head, and after a moment understanding seemed to dawn on his face. The death-contracts.

  Xavier stepped toward the elf spirit. He was a little worried about the Willpower Infusion spell wearing off, but he knew he could take the binding specialist if he needed to. The Divine Helper would be making her way back to this spot as well. He doubted she was just going to stay back.

  Explain.

  There is a difference, when it comes to serving someone, between true honour and respect, and simply signing a contract. Sometimes, one can have honour and respect and a contract—but more often than not, the signing of that contract, the way it tears away a person’s free will. Especially a death-contract… The elf spirit shook his head. It is not how people create a powerful army, or powerful devotees. Not truly. The fighters lack heart. The causes are not their own. There comes a point when even their own life seems to lack value, as their free will has been taken away. There is a difference between taking orders when you have to, and taking orders when you choose to.

  Xavier looked back over at the corpse of the Archer of Fortune. It had seemed as though, at the end, she’d simply given up. It hadn’t felt good, defeating her. He should have felt some sense of pride at taking down the C Grade, but all he’d felt was pity for the woman.

  It made him think of another time, when he’d been fighting soldiers of another kind. Soldiers forced to fight in an army of seemingly unending waves.

  The Endless Horde.

  Had their hearts not been in that fight either?

  Xavier shook his head. He was thinking too deeply on the motivations of those who served his enemy, rather than thinking of his enemy’s motivations. It doesn’t matter, Xavier replied to Rhaalir. The threat has been taken care of.

  Rhaalir raised an eyebrow. By my count, you’ve only defeated two of them.

  The others aren’t important. It was the Archer of Fortune who could track me. The binding specialist was at his mercy. He could defeat him with ease. He could even order the man to harm himself. It wouldn’t take very long.

  Xavier had done it before.

  But he didn’t feel as though it was necessary.

  He’d lacked mercy tens of thousands of times in the past, and he hadn’t felt guilt for it. But he didn’t need to murder this man in cold blood when he was no longer a threat.

  Instead, Xavier walked up to the binding specialist. “I meant what I said, before. I will defeat your master. Perhaps now, you’ll be alive to see it. I know you’ll be forced to try and follow me. I know you don’t have a choice. But I hope, for your sake, you don’t find me, because I went let you go a second time.”

  Xavier cast Portal behind him and took a step backward straight into it. His boots hit wet grass on the other side. Rain splattered onto his forehead and robes. The clouds high above made the area he’d portalled to dark.

  He closed the portal the moment he’d went through, then let out a breath.

  The Portal Block on this moon was still in effect, but he wasn’t marked anymore. There wouldn’t be a way for them to track him without the Archer of Fortune.

  That was very… Lenient of you. Rhaalir had his hands folded in front of him, an odd look on his face. You’re an interesting man, Xavier Collins. Always so full of surprises.

  Xavier inclined his head. Know that I will think about what you said. Regarding contracts.

  He had several contracts in effect with people. Ones that meant they served him. He had a contract with Volkarin. He even had a contract with the elf spirit. Then there was the one with Alexic, and the one he wished to create with the necromancer Romalda, when she finally grew strong enough to escape her dungeon. Creating contracts had always left a sour taste in his mouth, but they had also seemed like a necessary evil. He always seemed to go back and forth on that issue—it was one he needed to contemplate further.

  He could always break the contracts he’d created, after all, if he wished. That would solve the problem, but felt like it would create twenty more.

  He’ll keep coming after you, Rhaalir said. That man with the chains, his advice was sound. You could always run. A B Grade is a world of difference from that of a weak C Grade, and despite being called an Elite Hunt Squad, those C Grades weren’t Elite—not in my book.

  Xavier nodded. I know.

  He had to rethink how open he was with his identity when travelling through the sector—and later, when travelling to other sectors.

  Xavier was powerful. Perhaps the most powerful D Grade around—he wasn’t sure. He still had a long way to go before he made it to C Grade. Still had a lot of growth.

  But he’d seen how many times he’d been defeated by the C Grade Elemental Dragon in the different unfoldings the Spirit of Time had shown him. He wasn’t invincible—far from it. And just because he was powerful for his grade, didn’t mean he was powerful.

  This sector is weak, Xavier said to the elf spirit. I need to remember that.

  Rhaalir frowned. Not just this sector, Xavier. You must take a moment, to think about where you are. This sector is perhaps one of the weakest, if not the weakest, ones in your entire universe. The neighbouring sectors? They might seem strong, especially housing a B Grade as one of them clearly does, but they are nothing compared with what you’ll face down the line. This B Grade… Don’t get me wrong, he will be powerful beyond your current imaginings. But, from the way those C Grades fought, I can only imagine that he will not be a true B Grade. I can only imagine that he breezed through every grade, simply gaining levels, and not focusing enough on gaining power. He may have advanced, but he left a hell of a lot behind when he did. Just as those C Grades you faced did. And none of them were Progenitors, let alone True Progenitors.

  Xavier looked at the elf spirit. Rhaalir had offered him advice in the past—advice that went beyond simply talking about Otherworld spells and abilities—but he’d never spoken to Xavier like this before.

  You told me yourself that this sector started from scratch a mere thousand years ago. That is but a blip in the grand scheme. Your universe has been around for billions of years, and there are those that have been alive since the dawn of the System. You mustn’t take that for granted, Xavier.

  I have come to believe in you—I’ve come to believe in your cause. But with all you’ve managed to do, all the power you’ve managed to gain, don’t, not for one second, think that you are strong enough to walk the Greater Universe freely and without danger. Rhaalir gestured somewhere in the distance.

  Those C Grades you faced were nothing compared to those you will encounter when you truly venture forth into the universe. Don’t make this fight lull you into a false sense of security. There are C Grades out there powerful enough to destroy entire planets with a single spell, ones that could crush that Elemental Dragon you faced back on the hundredth floor with an ease you can’t contemplate.

  You are strong, Xavier, but you must remain wary.

  Accidental Champion!

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