Tim ignored the rushed questions poised to him by Dimitre, by a rather scraped-up Bert, and by all others. Part of his brain still couldn’t accept the facts he saw with his own eyes. The sight of the hero falling to his knees, to the ground, unmoving. The hero was dead. Sure, it was a bit too dangerous to walk up and check until they got a magic user to disperse the sarin with wind, but Tim was fairly certain. No movement, not even the rise and fall of Kevin’s barrel-like chest could be seen.

Still. Better safe than sorry. He had read far too many penny novels that featured a villain that never made absolutely sure that the hero was dead when he had the means to do so.

“Dimitre, where’s Mavier? We have need of his magic.”

At Tim’s side, Dimitre took on a thoughtful look. “I can’t be too sure. Last I saw, my lord had slipped out the side gate and was pursued by the cleric.”

“Interesting. That might work out after all. Go and see if you can find him. If he is well enough to cast magic, that’s really all we need right now. And, if you see Elena, be wary. She may be wounded, but a wounded dog still bites. Don’t take risks, lure her back to us so we can surround her if need be.”

Dimitri nodded, leaping off towards the ruins of the side gates as Tim turned back to the problem at hand.

“Bert, how’re we looking?” Tim asked, swiping his hand against his forehead, absentmindedly observing the mixture of sweat and blood that coated the back of his hand.

“Hard to say boss. A few of the boys got hit by pieces of the wall, but they can still move. The trees took most of the beating. But… is it over? Did we really just axe a hero?” Bert said with a touch of wonder. Heroes were an executioner’s rope around the neck of a group like his, and normally as untouchable as the moon.

Tim faintly nodded. “We might have. Won’t know for sure until the sarin clears. Do we have any canisters left?”

“I’d say around 5 or 10. Unnatural stuff, that.” Bert hawked up a thick wad of dusty phlegm almost to make home his point.

“That ‘unnatural stuff’ just killed a hero. Be thankful, if that hadn’t worked, we would have been next.”

Bert shook his head. “Yeah. I get it boss. Just remember, we’re just simple fellas in the end. No harm meant.”

Then, the pair’s attention was grabbed by shouts of greeting from Santet. Tim whirled around, and was greeted with the battered, yet still dignified-looking Mavier.

Tim walked towards Mavier with an unsteady gait and an outstretched hand. “Perfect timing. Do you know wind magic?”

Across from Tim, the demon hero chuckled as he shook Tim’s hand. “A little bit. Truly, though, that weapon of yours was quite impressive. And, I believe Dimitre mentioned it doesn’t even use magic?”

Tim nodded in agreement. “It exceeded my expectations as well. If we had a bit more, or if Kevin hadn’t been so quick with his magic, I think the explosion alone might have been enough to take the fucker out.”

“Maybe so. As for the wind magic… what is it needed for? It would be a bit of a waste to use it for blowing dust away.”

“No, it’s something more important.” Tim gestured at Kevin’s body. “According to the texts, sarin tends to linger. I need you to use some wind to blow it away, and to make sure that if the wind turns that we don’t get hit.”

Mavier nodded in approval. “You wish to check if he’s really dead. Wise decision. In that case, please stand back.”

Immediately after Mavier spoke, the entire group took several steps back as the demon hero began to chant several strange, arcane phrases under his breath. As each phrase was uttered, unnatural winds began to rustle through the clothing of all who were present. Quickly, the wind picked up, faster and faster until the winds joined together, picking up dust and small stones to create a howling gale reminiscent of a small tornado.

Tim grinned as he noticed that not a single one of the winds blew in the group’s direction. Pretty good control, that’s good. It would’ve been a killjoy if my own creation killed us too. But still, damn if it isn’t hard keeping my hands from shaking. I can’t believe I did it, for fuck’s sake. I killed a hero, without magic or swords or anything! Tim, Hero of the Oppressed! No…

As Tim’s mental rambling began to pick up pace, the winds tapered out and died, once more revealing a lone form laying in the ruins of the fortress, surrounded by the broken petals of a melancholy flower of ice.

“That should be good. Mavier, how about we stroll up there and see the fruits of our alliance?” Tim chuckled, gesturing for the demon hero to join him as he jogged towards the ruins.

The two picked their way through the debris, Tim could barely even remember how the fortress was like before. Instead, all he could think about was the glorious state it was in now, looking like a child had scattered their building blocks across the playroom. How glorious.

Wordlessly, Mavier followed him, scimitar at the ready. The shattered fortress was surreal. He felt it was too quiet, like they had driven a heart into the very land itself with the unnatural, magic-less destruction. But looking at the body of the Great Slayer, he felt cautious joy.

The duo reached the body, with Tim kneeling down by Kevin’s neck to feel for a pulse. Finding none, he looked up to Mavier and smiled.

“It’s done. Now, if you would care to do the honors and take his head? I don’t know if Elena has any resurrection spells, but I don’t care to find out.”

Mavier grinned in approval. “Indeed. It is rather difficult to revive a person that lacks their head.”

And with that said, Mavier gleefully swung at Kevin’s neck with his gleaming scimitar, severing it through the very bone and catching it with his foot as it rolled away. Tim let out a breath that he hadn’t even realized he was holding in. It was over, at least this part was.

“Well done. Not even a hero can survive that. Now… may I suggest a way to put that thing to good use?

As Mavier nodded, curiosity in his eyes morphing into triumph, tinged with a slight spot of fear as Tim explained his idea with a wicked grin.

“Really now, with ideas like those, you’d put the demons of the storybooks to shame.” Mavier shook his head. People these days.