Name: Trace Taylor

Race: Human (Earth A314)

Class: Adept Spellshot – Lvl 18

Vocation: Builder – Lvl 7

Craft: Locked

Traits:

Strength: E+

Magic: E+

Endurance: E

Vitality: E-

Dexterity: D

Skills:

Class Skills:

(F+) Magically Enhanced Accuracy – Lvl 13

(E-) Quick Fire – Lvl 9

(E) Recall Weapon – Lvl 8

(E+) Vulnerability Vision – Lvl 10

(E+) Last in the Chamber – Lvl 9

(D-) Mystic Bullets – Lvl 8

Vocation Skills:

(G) Quick Hands – Lvl 8

(F) Makeshift Materials – Lvl 5

(F+) Rapid Repair – Lvl 7

Trace Taylor checked her status as she took up a defensive stance. Most of her skills had levelled, and while she’d like to evaluate the advantages of their new levels, she was too preoccupied preparing herself for a fight. After all, four individuals stood before her. Sam, Nathan, Jackie, and Darius. And they were—

“Wait, what the fuck. We’ve been fighting alongside terrorists?”

“We’re not terrorists.” Darius gave her a hurt look. Like, he was actually physically hurt from the battle. He probably broke half of the bones in his body from being crushed by the durable serpentfiend. But he also seemed offended. “We’re members of the Precursors of Peace!”

“That’s what a terrorist would say.” Trace crossed her arms.

Jackie shrugged. “She’s got a point, ya know? Yer kinda shady, Darius.”

“Pretty sus,” Liz said, nodding nonchalantly.

The redhead reached for her gun, eyeing the Precursors of Peace warily. Trace, Liz, and Adair stood on one side, while Sam, Jackie, Darius, and Nathan stood across from them.

A tense second passed as a cool breeze blew over the group of seven. It swept up fallen leaves scattering into the air as a dull, monotonous note of silence dragged out the moment. The crescendo of battle had come to an end, but the potential of a new fight drummed up as Trace shifted with a soft memory.

Three bodies lay in the living room. They were piled on top of each other, right next to the broken coffee table—

“You were the ones who killed that family, weren’t you?” Trace’s brows tightened like her grip around her pistol. “That’s how you got that truck. You stole it after murdering them and ransacking their home!”

The Precursors of Peace exchanged confused looks. Nathan spoke up.

“Uh, bro, we don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, we din’t murder no one!” Jackie insisted.

Trace narrowed her eyes. “Then how’d you steal that truck?”

“By… literally stealing it?” Nathan shook his head. “Like, how else do you steal a truck?”

“You know, he’s got a point.” Liz brought her hands up as Trace glared. “I’m on your side! I just think that what he said is fair— even if it’s super sus.”

“It is incredibly suspicious,” the redhead said. “Do you expect me to believe that you’re unrelated to the ransacked house just a few miles south of here?”

“Yes,” Nathan, Darius, and Jackie chorused.

Trace’s eyes twitched. Finally, Sam decided to speak.

“Look,”— Sam stepped forward— “we have no quarrel with you, Trace. And we certainly have no quarrel with strangers. If we did hurt someone, it’d be because they attacked us first, not because we wanted to steal from them. The only person in a ten-mile radius we even have a problem with would be that man over there.”

Trace glanced back and furrowed her brows. “Adair?”

“That guy, yep. Adair Russell. Or Adair the Great. Whatever you want to call him.”

“What’s wrong with him?”

“We’ve been searching for him,” Sam said. “Adair is a former member of the Precursors of Peace. A prominent member, actually. Our leader sent us to find him and bring him in.”

She frowned. “Bring him in?”

“Just for a talk.”

“Is it a talk, Samuel? Or could it perhaps be something more malicious?” For the first time since introducing the Precursors of Peace, Adair spoke up. He’d been almost isolated— hidden behind Trace and Liz, remaining silent and alone. Now though, his gaze bore into Sam. “I know how your organisation functions. Do not pretend I would walk away from that conversation unscathed.”

There was a pause. A skipped beat. Trace’s gaze snapped between Adair and Sam— the animosity between the two was clear. They edged closer and closer to each other as the friction between them began to spark. The redhead saw a glint coming from the Energy Caster’s fingertips, recognizing the gathering of aether as the other man reached for his bow—

“That’s enough,” she said, stepping in front of the two. “We’re not going to be fighting each other. Not now when we’re all tired from killing that durable serpentfiend.”

Adair paused as the aether around him vanished, but Sam still held onto his bow. “You have a problem with murderers, don’t you, Trace?” he asked in an amused tone.

“I do, yeah.”

“Then why are you defending that man? He’s a killer. You shouldn’t even let him face your back— I’d imagine he’d take any chance he can get to betray you like he did with us.”

Trace glanced at Adair as he stood behind her. “He… did try to kill me before,” she started, and he averted his gaze.

Yet, she thought about the events of the past few days. There were many opportunities where he could’ve killed both her and Liz and ran off, but he didn’t. Even with the durable serpentfiend, he risked his life fighting it until they won. Trace’s stubbornness fought with her logic for a moment, and one of them won.

Shaking her head, she turned back to Sam. “However, that was only when we first met. Which was, yes, a bad first impression. But since then, Adair has proven himself to be more trustworthy than not. So, I don’t think he’d do that. Not now, at least.”

Sam’s eyes narrowed. He pulled out his bow. “Maybe you’re fine with him, but we aren’t.”

Adair tensed, and she stared at him.

“Step out of the way, Trace,” Sam said as he nocked an arrow. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What’re you doing?”

“I told you. We were sent here to find him.”

The redhead watched the bowstring stretch as the Precursors of Peace prepared themselves for battle. Adair was level 18 now— the same as Jackie— while the others were lower-levelled, but it was still four against one. He would lose.

He knew he’d lose. Trace could see it on his face. So, she sighed.

“I’m not going to let you do that.”

Sam’s expression changed to that of confusion. “Excuse me?”

“I said: piss off.” She cocked her pistol, not yet raising it.

“We saved your life, Trace. Are you seriously going to fight us now, over him? When did you even meet him?”

“About a week and a half ago, and yes,” she said, nodding at Liz. “We’re not letting you take him.”

Her best friend shrugged and joined her. “You heard the lady. Shoo.”

Trace relaxed a little, glad that she had support. “And while you guys did save my life, I don’t know anything else about the four of you other than you’re with the Precursors of Peace. It’s your word versus his word. Unfortunately, I trust him more.”

The four Precursors of Peace looked at each other uneasily. But Trace and Liz didn’t back down. Even though it looked like a fight was going to break out, for real this time. Jackie reached for her hammer as Darius forced himself to stand by himself. The pack of dogs encroached on the group, and Nathan opened his mouth—

But Sam nodded.

“Very well.” He lowered his bow and put away his arrow. “If that’s how it is, I guess we’ll back down.”

“But Sam—” Jackie started, and he shook his head.

“We just told them we weren’t bad people. We’d sure look like a bunch of liars if we started a fight with them over this.” He turned around, pausing only to look at Adair for a brief second. “Anyways, Adair’s a bastard, they’ll learn that soon enough. When that happens, they’ll come to us for help. Let’s just go.”

With some apprehension, they funnelled away. Finally, Trace holstered her weapon as they left. When they were gone, her shoulders grew slack, and she placed a hand on her chest.

“That was stupidly fucking tense.”

“For real. Thought we were gonna get into a fight with them. I liked them.” Liz sheathed her Obsidian Longsword.

Trace was just glad that the worst didn’t come to pass; she wanted to collapse from exhaustion at this point. However, first she turned around and approached Adair.

“You alright?” She placed a hand on his shoulder.

He jerked back slightly as if he didn’t see her walk his way. His attention had been drawn to where the Precursors of Peace went. “I apologise,” he said, meeting her gaze. “I have burdened you with my own hostility once more. Perhaps I let my own lassitude get the better of my character. The optimal course of action would’ve been to defuse the situation with diplomacy, not worsen it with animosity.”

Trace rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop being so annoying and just say thanks.”

“R-right.” Adair straightened, dusting off his clothes. “Thank you for your assistance, Ms Trace Taylor, Ms Elizabeth Evergreen.” He bowed his head at both of them.

The redhead scowled and lightly punched him on the arm. “And stop being so formal. Just call me Trace.”

“Yeah— my friends call me Liz,” the sable-tressed woman added with a grin.

Adair’s eyes rolled between the pair. It seemed like he had a hard time processing what they were saying. “…friends?”

Trace pursed her lips. “Well, I wouldn’t say we’re friends just yet. But just be more casual. It’s less weird that way. C’mon, is it really that hard to address us with just our names?”

“Certainly not,” he scoffed. But he needed a long pause before saying it. “Trace, Liz,” he said with a deep breath, “thank you.”

“Sure.” Trace grinned and turned around. “Now, let’s go find some place to sleep. I’m bloody tired as hell.”

* * *

The battle with the durable serpentfiend had taken about an hour or two. Which meant that it had still been nighttime when it was finally over. Trace didn’t know what time it was, just that it was time for her to sleep. Well, she wanted to, but first she made sure that the people in the town were safe.

They thanked her and Liz and Adair. It wasn’t a large crowd— only a few dozen people at most, including the family Trace saved. And while not everyone in town showed, those that did offered the group of three a place to say, much to the redhead’s gratitude. She slept soundly until the sun swelled in the sky.

When she awoke, the red ring was peeking out from the eastward horizon. An amber-coloured glare was cast across the teething line where day and night clashed. Trace thanked the family and left the house, seeing the destruction in silhouette. The flame-lopes that ebbed away at the petrol station had flowed into the concrete and evaporated over the course of the night. All that remained was the burnt debris that spilled smoke into the azure sea above.

Adair and Liz joined her soon enough. Perhaps it was her heightened vitality or endurance, but she felt rejuvenated after a few hours’ rest. Stretching her back, she heaved a heavy breath and ushered them forward.

“C’mon, let’s get back to Liberapolis.”

Adair was still uneasy. Clearly wary of the four members of the Precursors of Peace they’d met a few hours earlier. He hadn’t expounded on why they wanted him just yet, and Trace wasn’t going to prod him. All she did was try to reassure him as they exited the town.

“There’s no need to worry, Adair,” she said. “They won’t try anything with us around, and they’ve already left. So, it’s not like we’ll see them ever again—”

The group of three halted when they caught sight of another group heading down the road to Liberapolis.

Sam waved at them, grinning. “Hey. Did you guys sleep well?”

Trace stared at them as they lugged the head of the durable serpentfiend behind them. She turned to Liz who raised an amused brow. Then Ex laughed.

[Spoke too soon, didn’t you?]

“Oh, piss off!” She threw her hands in the air.

Sam drew back, placing a hand on his chest. “Ouch, that kind of hurts.”

“No, I was talking to—” Trace massaged her temples. “Never mind.”