Chapter 54: Beginnings

  Seraethis was a city in the way that an ocean was a lake.

  The moment they crossed into Seratheis, the shift hit like a hammer. One second, they were in the untamed wilds, the next, they stood at the precipice of something engineered for anything but human hands. The ground felt different—denser, like it had been built rather than grown, formations too precise, too structured, as if even nature here had abandoned randomness. Towering structures stretched into the sky, fused together by forces that didn’t care for architectural logic, entire sections seamlessly blended, self-repairing, self-optimizing. The whole place felt like it was still under construction, but without workers, without builders—just an unchecked, endless force of creation.

  Liora shifted her grip on her spear, scanning the perfect symmetry around them. "I don’t like it. Where’s the dirt? The rubble? Even ruins have the courtesy to be messy." She exhaled, shaking her head.

  Osric gave the ground a light tap with his boot. “Maybe it repairs itself.” He frowned at the thought.

  The streets were seamless, the walls thickened over time, and structures had expanded through optimization rather than decay. It did not exist in stillness.

  As they passed the city threshold, a wave of mana pressed against domain, desperate to reach inside and eat away at what lay within, and Alex’s brows pursed in response, his efforts to keep it at bay increasing ever so slightly.

  A different kind of fight.

  His Dao had evolved in the last fight with ‘Varian’ and in his all of his most difficult fights, they forced him to adjust, to rework, and to sharpen what was possible. Battles were about more than victory, that wasn’t the only reward. There was so much more to gain from each. They sharpened him. Combat here wouldn’t a matter of winning or losing—it would the process itself, the way forward, and the only way forward.

  This new location was more than a repeated cycle; it justified extreme progression, letting Alex grow beyond what was possible in any other place in this world and would not be starved of high level prey like others in the safer parts of this world. Whatever stood at the higher levels of this place would have been through countless iterations, each one stronger than the last. Against them, combat would serve as a foundation for growth, fully embraced as a tool for refinement rather than mere survival. If Alex wanted to stand at the peak, he had to become more than what he was.

  The city gates had become a growing bottleneck, hunters scattered in small groups, some sitting on broken pillars, others pacing in frustration. The stragglers, whether wounded, hesitant, or simply lacking confidence, were forming a rough collective, an unspoken agreement building among them—nobody was walking in alone.

  "Think they're waiting for something?" Liora muttered, eyeing a man polishing a sword he probably wouldn’t get to use before dying.

  Osric adjusted his gauntlet, scanning the numbers. "Yeah. A bigger idiot to follow."

  Alex observed the slow trickle of arrivals, the ones from the fragmented remnants of the 200-strong campaign. If nothing else, the city was forcing survival-based alliances. Strength in numbers was the obvious strategy. But not everyone had the patience.

  "You see any of the nobles?" Liora asked, rolling her shoulders like she was getting ready for a fight she didn’t need to start.

  "Not yet," Alex said. "They're still behind. Taking their time."

  "You mean letting us all go first," Osric muttered.

  It was obvious. Walking into the city without a group was suicide. But walking in first was also suicide.

  A nearby hunter snorted. "Yeah, no thanks. I’d rather watch from here and see who gets mulched first."

  "Smart man," another chimed in. "Let the hotheads charge in, let the nobles scheme, and we’ll just clean up after."

  "That's the plan?" Liora looked unimpressed.

  "That’s the hope," one of them corrected. "Plans require control."

  Alex scanned the crowd again. Some key figures were missing. The figures whose presence dominated the group and whose mana burned brighter than most others. The most renowned hunters weren’t standing around debating when to move.

  Then, he overheard it:

  "—straight for the depths. Didn't even hesitate."

  "Idiots," someone spat. "They couldn’t wait thirty minutes? That kind of greed gets you killed."

  "Or rich," another muttered.

  A third scoffed. "The city literally gives you the quest right there and they just—what? Decide they don’t need prep? Overconfident bastards."

  "They're strong," someone else countered. "Probably don’t need prep."

  "Or they’re gonna die like everyone else who thought that."

  Liora snorted. "I’m guessing the famous ones aren’t big on patience."

  Osric grunted. "Or babysitting."

  Alex smirked, shaking his head slightly. If it had been him, he wouldn’t have waited either.

  The logic was simple. The longer you waited, the more competition you had. The most ambitious weren’t wasting time discussing risk—they were already securing advantages.

  He muttered, "If you know you're strong enough, what’s the point of waiting?"

  Liora smirked. "Thinking of running off yourself? Leaving us behind?"

  Alex exhaled. "No need. You guys were pretty useful on that last figh— I mean, I like you guys.” He smirked beneath his helmet, but doubted either Liora or Osric could see it.

  Liora waved a hand dismissively. “Yeah, yeah, we’re great. You can write us thank-you letters later. Or buy me a drink once we’re done with this mess.”

  “And that sounded suspiciously close to a real compliment. You feeling okay?”

  “Heads up, they’re clearing a path for us," Osric gestured with a jerk of his thumb.

  The hunters stepped aside, in the way people do when a person was walking to the gallows.

  "Good luck to them," a nearby hunter said, adjusting his armor. "I mean that sincerely. Because luck is all that’ll keep them breathing."

  "You lot really think they’re all gonna die?" another hunter scoffed.

  "Not all of them," someone admitted. "Some will make it. The question is who and how many."

  "And how strong they’ll be if they come back," another added darkly.

  Liora leaned toward Osric. "I give it a day before someone starts placing bets."

  Osric exhaled, nodding. "More like an hour."

  They kept walking, leaving behind the murmuring blend of skepticism, admiration, and grim pragmatism.

  Alex didn’t blame them, but he completely disagreed with their outlook. He had expected this world to be a breeze but instead, he found something more—he couldn’t ask for a better environment or a better quest.

  Seratheis had made its own monsters. Two thousand years of killing and getting killed had turned them into something past normal evolution—stronger, faster, and built to rip apart anything weaker. Some of them had stats that lined up with his, like the world had been grinding them down into something that could stand against him. But they weren’t the only ones. The nobles had been around long enough to figure out how to do the same, their bodies and power stretched beyond normal limits. They wanted his head, his rewards, and maybe just the satisfaction of watching something strong bleed. Then there were the summoned heroes, outsiders pulled from other worlds, boosted with classes that didn’t play by the same rules. He didn’t know what they could do, only that the nobles had control over them, and that meant trouble. And at the top of it all was whatever the God of Creation had left behind, the thing meant to be the best this city could make, still standing after everything else had been tested and broken.

  Fighting wasn’t just a way to survive. If that was all it was, he wouldn’t have made it this far. The sword wasn’t a weapon—it was progress. He didn’t use it just to win; he used it to push past limits, to cut through anything in his way, to change. His technique wasn’t some rigid set of moves, but something alive, something that sharpened itself every time he fought. It was hunger in steel. He would test himself against the creatures built for war, cut down the nobles who had made a game of it, tear through the summoned heroes they threw at him, and see what stood at the top of this place. If everything here was built to be better than what came before, then so was he.

  Alex’s domain brushed against something that caused his steps to falter. “Wait.”

  Liora turned, catching his pause and sensing something was wrong. Osric stopped too, but only to fold his arms and watch from where he stood. She stepped forward to follow Alex as he approached the gathered hunters making a beeline to a hunter within the group.

  A man turned, grinning wide. "What, you checking me for contraband?" he joked, tapping a hunter standing beside him and nodding to Alex. "Fancy armor. Probably costs more than my house—" His voice was light, easy, friendly. A few hunters near him laughed. One clapped him on the shoulder.

  An arrow the size of a siege bolt tore through him. Blood sprayed. Not just blood—flesh and fluid sloughed apart, muscle splitting open, shifting instead of tearing, rupturing his form like a waterlogged carcass. The surrounding hunters stumbled back in shock as the "man" split open, his bone cracked but didn’t break—it folded, restructured, tried to hold. Inside, organs weren’t organs, just a network of reinforced tissue, layered with something deeper, something adapting. A core sat embedded in shifting mass, pulsing, connected to the body like a living node, feeding control outward. The core slid away, dodging. The hunter—no, the thing—split. Not like a man falling apart. Like something breaking itself in two, forming two bodies, reforming and surviving.

  “Oh, come on,” Liora snarled, halberd already swinging. The weapon crashed into both halves at once. Another arrow slammed through both, punching clean through their shifting masses. Their cores shuddered into view.

  All-Knowing Cut. Alex’s blade was already moving. Flux rippled through him. Plasma heated it’s edge. Decay followed. Entropy licked at his sword’s base. The moment metal touched mana, both cores crumbled—rotting, disintegrating, dying all at once.

  [You have defeated level 751 BloodSlime - Evolved Variant - Unfinished (D). Bonus experience due to ‘Hero’ feat.]

  [Level 229 - 231]

  [Strength +8, Dexterity+8, intelligence+12, unassigned stats +8]

  The crowd staggered back, boots scraping the dirt, stunned silence settling like a heavy weight.

  Liora exhaled, rolling her shoulders. “That was faster. We’re getting good at this.”

  Osric grunted. “Less mess than last time. Once you know their weakness and have someone strong enough to find and cut their core, they’re not so bad. But there’s not many who could do that.” He kicked a loose piece of slime aside, eyeing the remains without much interest. “And we’re still too slow.”

  Alex flicked blood from his blade and stored the piece of the core he’d severed. The first slime had been difficult because it was new. And it didn’t matter that Osric was right, with each kill they would get better, and he had just experimented with merging his skills with his Dao— something he had seen only one other do— to limited success. They hadn’t necessarily merged, but they had worked in tandem.

  And that was a step forward.

  Liora frowned as they walked, stepping over a piece of shattered architecture that slowly repaired itself, assimilating with the ground in a way that appeared strangely like technology to Alex. “Why didn’t you just turn invisible like last time? Could’ve saved us some effort.”

  Osric scoffed. “Intangible.” He gave her a flat look. “Invisible means you can’t see him. Intangible means he doesn’t exist long enough to get stabbed in the face.”

  Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Alex exhaled. “That’s not how—”

  Osric raised a hand. “—No, let her sit with it.” He gave Alex a side glance. “Would explain why he didn’t use it, though. Probably not something you throw around for free.”

  Liora blinked, then stepped forward dismissively as though the pedantry were beneath her. Alex didn’t answer immediately, adjusting his pace as they passed an intersection. “It’s not a crutch, but I wouldn’t have gained anything from it. I’m not relying on certain… skills, so I’m not relying on phasing, either.”

  Alex had made his decision. No Allocation, no Mana Burn, no crutches. No stat-boosting skills unless survival or death absolutely demanded it. If he wanted to push his skills and his Dao past its limits, he needed resistance—the kind that forced refinement. Winning wouldn’t be the only goal—mastery was. Every fight would be a grindstone, every enemy a test, every limitation a tool to sharpen his techniques and his system-bound abilities. Every opponent would be a measuring post— If something outmatched him, then skill, adaptability, and sheer persistence would have to bridge the gap. He would adapt until they didn’t. His skills and Dao had yet to reach its peak, and here, in a place of endless refinement, he would make them evolve.

  Liora hummed, dragging a gloved hand across the flawless surface of a building as they passed. “Guess that’s fair. Wouldn’t want to get used to easy solutions.” She exhaled, shaking her head. “Still, if I could walk through swords, I’d abuse it.”

  Osric grunted. “And get real confident until it backfired.” He glanced toward Alex. “Reckless but calculated, or just reckless?”

  Alex smirked beneath his helmet. “Bit of both.”

  They kept walking, the faint sounds of distant battles and the occasional tremor of the ground the filling the space between their words.

  Liora glanced around, eyes narrowing at the sheer number of distant clashes sweeping through the pristine city like distant thunder. "Alright, where are we going?"

  Alex barely hesitated. "To the sound of all the fighting."

  Osric snorted. "There’s a lot of fighting. Kinda spread out, too."

  Alex shrugged. "Pick one. Doesn’t matter. Whatever’s causing the most tremors."

  Liora tilted her head, listening as a deep, rhythmic impact rattled through the streets, making the seamless stone beneath them vibrate. "That one." She started walking.

  Alex summoned Eclipse, and the blade twisted into a towering metal demon. It stretched its claws, testing the movement like a beast waking from sleep. Its horns, claws, tail, and swords burned molten, seething with heat like a furnace. One of its swords melted into a second clone, black and still, watching him without the heat or glow of the first.

  Both watched Alex with cold, empty malice, as if they would rather carve into him than obey.

  Alex glanced at the clones and gave a simple command. “Attack me.” They hesitated, their glowing eyes locked onto him, unmoving. Then, as if reaching the same conclusion, they moved—blades flashing, claws slashing, closing in at once.

  ***

  Liora eyed them. Somehow, Alex was racing ahead, and battling while fighting. Both her and osric resorted to a light jog, eyes on both their reckless comrade and the dangerous surroundings. “Y’know, most people test their weapons on training dummies. Not in a place where we could be attacked and killed at any moment.”

  Osric stepped back from an errant tail strike. “He’s not testing the swords. He’s testing himself against them.” His gaze sharpened. “And I don’t think they like that.”

  The molten one’s clawed hand lashed out, its strike a blur of heat and force. Alex twisted—a delayed shift. The impact scraped across his armored ribs, sending a wave of scorching air washing over him. The second demon struck at the same moment, perfectly synchronized. Its blade carved through the air, slamming into Alex’s shoulder plate. He staggered back, metal screeching as it took the hit.

  “Not a great start.”

  Liora skipped over shooting debris that shot down the crackless, symmetrical street, boots tapping against stone that looked more grown than built as Alex’s armour gained more scratches, dents, and thin cracks, from blows he could only badly avoid, straining the enchantment and wasting the material. Without gaining levels or experience. “This is stupid. We’re not safe. He’s not going to gain anything, he can’t even kill them, they don’t have levels or skills…they’re probably not even alive. The quest is more important.” She clicked her tongue, shifting her weight as if itching to yell at him to stop wasting energy and mana. “How the hell’s he even controlling those things? Do you think they think for themselves? Do they come with an instruction manual.”

  “Maybe they can, they do, and maybe he might,” Osric exhaled, pinching the bridge of his nose. “But we’re still headed for the quest, the other battles are getting louder.” He could hardly deny the validity to her words. He understood the need to train more than anyone, but in the world of classes and skills, you would train for months in advance of a job, or every waking moment in between.

  But never on the job itself, that was suicidal.

  He watched as the molten one’s clawed hand lashed out, a blur of heat and force. Alex twisted—too slow. The impact slammed into his armored side, metal groaning under the force. The second demon mirrored the motion, blade carving down. Alex raised an arm to deflect, but the impact sent him skidding backward, boots grinding against stone.

  Liora winced. “Yikes.”

  Osric didn’t blink. “Give it a second.”

  Alex was already adjusting. The demons didn’t slow. The molten one’s tail blade whipped forward, aiming for the kill. The second clone followed up instantly, slashing at where he should have been. For the first time, they missed completely.

  The molten demon swiped at air. The second adjusted—too slow.

  Liora whistled. “I get why you’d keep ‘em around. Real menacing. Real evil. Real—” she gestured, “Unfair.”

  “He’s training, but skills don’t work like that—Not unless you’re right at deaths door. Otherwise it takes hours or days… even weeks to see your mastery progress even a little.” Osric’s gaze sharpened, turning away from Alex to pay attention to things he’d ordered to attack him, because the demons weren’t just slashing and biting wildly anymore; they were learning.

  The molten demon feinted with its tail and swords slashing from different angles. The second lunged from above, mirroring Alex’s techniques with savage glee.

  Liora tilted her head. “Is that—?”

  “Yeah…” Osric nodded, though he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. After a beat of silence, he spoke again, his expression grim and stupefied. “His skills… the mastery’s evolving.”

  ***

  Alex wasn’t worried, the blows from his clones damaged his armour, but they barely even reached him, let alone touch the deep reservoir of defence he had from Thanatos’s Sovereign. He had only been relying on his passive skills and two active ones, limiting their use to purposeful efficiency in preparation for what was to come. Using his more mana heavy skills would have carried deep consequences, but this was a calculated waltz made with premeditated intent.

  And it had payed off.

  [System Message: Skill consolidation detected]

  [Initiating Skill consolidation protocol…]

  [Skill: Boundless Dodge removed!]

  [Skill: Sword Sense removed!]

  [Skill: Divine Fist removed!]

  [System Alert: Skill consolidation has been consumed by a higher ranked skill!]

  [Consolidating Skill Masteries…]

  [Completed]

  Alex processed the shift like it was being etched directly into his mind, a restructuring that felt both immediate and vast. His perception stretched, every detail of the fight captured with perfect clarity. The clones pressed forward, relentless, but he wasn’t reacting—he was understanding. The movements, the angles, the pressure—it was all data feeding into something larger.

  His domain showed him senses most beings couldn’t even consider, and using his domain to explore his skills had created Phoenix Cascade, turning a single platform into fifty. It had also created the All-Knowing Cut and turned a simple blade of mana into something that could replicate any element— even concepts, though Alex had yet to understand how. His domain had boosted his lost skills in unpredictable but drastic ways. So Alex had begun to think, what if he used it to explore his other skills? Every single one?

  How far could they each advance?

  Now, three skills were gone. The names, the separations, the activations—removed.

  But not stripped away. Merged. Grown. Capable of more. Expanded to fill a space that made them greater.

  [A Rank Skill - Sword Saint’s Domain - has gained additional abilities through minor consolidation -

  Additional ability: 1. the users body can utilise the ambient external mana of their domain to move unnaturally by manipulating and puppeteering their body as they wish to aid their movements, breaking the laws of biological physics. The user’s system-reconstructed nervous system, is linked to both the domain and the soul, granting near-instantaneous sensory processing, hyper-reactive movement, and heightened dexterity, and rapid comprehension and evasion. If the user wills it, any ’Sword’ within the domain can be drawn to the users palm, unless resisted by a higher force. The shorter the range of the users domain, the more intensely their effects will heighten.

  Current maximum range: 15 feet]

  [Sword Saint’s Domain - Mastery: 9 > 44%]

  Alex's mind moved through the frozen moment, molten claws inches away from his armoured face, moving slowly through his perception in a not quite frozen world. He analyzing the change, and the implications were immediate.

  Reflexes were no longer conscious decisions. His body now processed and reacted before his mind had to engage. He had trained to shave milliseconds off reactions, but this wasn’t that. This was complete integration. There was no delay between perception and movement. No distinction between thought and execution. It wasn’t just speed—it was inevitability.

  If an attack entered his domain, he would move before it could land. Not because he decided to, but because his body simply would.

  That wasn’t the only thing; the domain had changed too.

  It was no longer just a field with heightened awareness. It had become an extension of his body. External mana responded to his presence as an inherent function of existence, he didn’t need to activate an evasive skill, because if he wanted it to be, his domain would become a permanent one. It moved with him, around him, as if it were another limb, a second nervous system.

  The ambient mana of his domain would encase his movements, stabilize them, amplify him drastically without conscious effort.

  The potential of that was impactful. The margin of error had been erased. He could focus entirely on strategy, prediction, execution—because so long as there was mana in the air, his body would never fail him.

  The applications stretched far beyond combat. If this extended to any physical action, it meant his body had entered a state where every action was optimal. Not because he thought about it, but because the system had consolidated the skills into something that no longer required thought.

  And then there was the final change.

  If he reached for a sword within his domain, it would come to him, unless something stronger resisted. He could throw a blade and recall it instantly, impaling enemies with strikes the wouldn't see coming.

  Every technique that relied on controlled positioning of weapons was now subject to his near perfected control.

  It wasn’t perfect, and the sword recall would hardly work here or in other worlds. But it was a good start.

  This could be the foundation for something greater.

  ***

  Liora stopped mid-step and watched as Alex moved, his reaction time functioning beyond what she perceived as perfect, instantly recognizing the molten blade and responding before it could fully descend. External mana wrapped around him and controlled his movements, shifting his body with impossible precision like a marionette guided by an unseen master. His movements shattered the laws of physics, twisting and altering direction mid-motion, flickering back and forth as if something greater than himself dictated every action. The molten blade carved a searing path where his head had been, missing as he blurred away. The force of the strike split the ground, breaking the stone apart and sending shards scattering. Osric saw the mana driving Alex’s movements, making them greater than they should have been, an external force pushing him beyond what his body alone could achieve. When Alex stretched out his hand, Eclipse surged toward him as if magnetized, its clawed feet scraping against the ground in resistance. Liora felt her halberd tug, nudged by the same pull. “Gotta admit,” she muttered, “had money on him getting cut in half already.”

  Alex ordered the demons to stop, and they halted instantly, their bodies trembling as they fought against the command, claws twitching and molten limbs resisting before collapsing into metallic mist and vanishing into nothing.

  “It’s over,” Liora leaned closer as osric watched with grim concern. “Looks like they got angrier towards the end.”

  “So I wasn’t imagining it…” Osric let out a tired sigh, hardly believing what he had just seen.

  Alex stood where they had just been attacking him, unharmed. Osric hadn’t missed what happened. The way Alex had moved—no, the way he had been moved—was beyond anything he had seen before. His body had blurred, shifting at angles that shouldn’t have been possible, his movements seamless, perfect, as if he was being pulled rather than stepping. Osric’s high-level gaze should have been able to follow him, but even then, there had been moments where Alex wasn’t there—only the aftermath of his steps remained.

  It was a sudden shift. Like something had cracked open. Osric’s eyes widened. Alex hadn’t just improved. He had advanced way too fast. Impossibly so.

  Improving skills in battle without life and death on the line was almost impossible. It took time, and that was why people in cities were weak—you had to face death to grow. Everyone did. Or at least, he had always thought so until now.

  And then there were those metal… Things.

  When Alex had summoned the two metal demons, the molten one had flexed its fingers as it looked at Osric, like it was deciding how best to tear him apart. Then its gaze shifted to Liora’s throat, lingering just long enough to make its intentions clear before moving on. It wanted to kill them. Both of them. By the time the battle ended, they had grown larger, bulked up with stolen power, their movements sharper, more refined. They were learning.

  When Alex released them, Osric was already watching the molten one. A slow, jagged grin split its face, teeth sharp enough to tear through bone. It hadn’t asked why it had been summoned. It didn’t care. It wanted blood. And freedom.

  Osric exhaled, shaking his head. “Don’t know why he keeps the damn thing. He’s already got plenty of swords.”

  “Doesn’t have to split loot, doesn’t have to split quests, doesn’t have to split experience,” Liora listed off casually, flipping her halberd over her shoulder. “And two-on-one isn’t fair, but fair’s a city problem. Honestly, why did he even team up with us?”

  “Because he’s not a summoner. He’s a swordsman, just like I'm a bowman and you wield a halberd.” Osric talked as they both approached Alex to head to the sound of a distant battle that was still raging, the ground beneath them trembling slightly. “But you’re right, to an extent. There must be some other benefit to keeping the weapon when it’s a blade that we’re not seeing… perhaps an enchantment or buff that only activates while it’s a blade… But I doubt it’s worth it, using those demonic thing’s is practically suicidal.”

  Liora scoffed and shook her head, disagreeing with his words, but Osric knew he was right.

  She patted her arms as they moved swiftly, racing to the nearest battle, Alex’s armoured figure ahead. “If he figures out how to actually get them to fight like he does, that’d be a hell of a trick.”

  Osric didn’t answer. He glanced back as he ran, his eyes lingering on the place the sword demons had stood. He remembered how the molten one shifted sadistically, it’s stance resetting as the battle ended.

  “If he ever gets them to fight like he does it’d either be one hell of a trick,” Osric grunted. “Or it’ll be the worst mistake he ever makes.”

  ***

  They finally reached to the source of the tremors and thunderous battle, and where Alex had expected to see a fierce melee. Instead, he arrived at a scene of pure destruction as the road widened ahead, leading into what had once been a structured plaza.

  The plaza was a wreck. Stone shattered, buildings gutted, debris buried in ruptured streets. The wreckage spread wide, fractures running through the ruins like veins. The plaza had been broken, burned, torn apart.

  Dominating the plaza was a corpse.

  A serpent’s dead corpse, massive beyond reason, its coils twisting through the wreckage, draped over collapsed archways and broken walls. Massive, coiled, tangled between buildings, its body draped across rooftops and shattered bridges. Its scales were ruined—holes punched straight through muscle, deep craters lined with blackened scorch marks, chunks of flesh missing where something had torn straight through. Others bore jagged edges, muscle and bone ruptured outward, as if something had detonated from inside, scattered pieces of its wounds strewn across the plaza. Smoke rose from parts of it, thin trails of heat curling from the impact points.

  “Look,” Alex pointed upward. “Be careful.”

  Liora and Osric followed his gaze to notice what he had.

  At the centre of the plaza, balanced atop the dead snake’s body, stood a man.

  His stance was relaxed, weight settled at an easy angle, rested and without tension. One hand rested at his side while the other held something small that flashed bright with the fading light of spent mana before settling as though cooling down—it was small, metallic, nothing like the weapons carried in this world. A long-barreled machine, shaped for precision, his fingers curled around its grip, the shape unfamiliar to all—except for Alex.

  Alex had seen that shape before.

  The man was holding a gun.

  The is up and running. So if you like, you can read ahead there!