Abby sprang to her feet and darted away from the porch, trusting that Zeke could take care of himself. She had seen him shrug off much more horrific wounds than an arrow to the chest, no matter how much momentum it had carried. As she dipped into the shadows, she noticed Pudge going in the other direction. The bear, despite his ever-increasing size, could be incredibly stealthy when he put his mind to it. Also, seeing the bear’s reaction told her that Zeke wasn’t in any immediate danger; if he had been, she was sure that Pudge would’ve gone insane.

With a mental command, her [Windseeker Bow] folded out from her fingerless glove as her eyes darted around, searching for targets. Mentally, she cursed herself for eschewing her skill, [Makeshift Camp], a habit she’d adopted because it seemed redundant. The cottage’s aura was more than enough to keep monsters away, so her skill just didn’t seem necessary. Now, though? If she’d bothered using the tools at her disposal, she could have activated her skill and ejected the intruders she saw striding into the light. There were three of them, all dressed in dark clothing.

Grinding her teeth, she decided that a few arrows in vulnerable places would have to suffice. So, as silently as she could manage, Abby summoned one of her silvery arrows and drew back on her bowstring. Choosing her target – a big, dangerous-looking man with an enormous sword – she let loose. The arrow flew true, and Abby began marking her next target. However, her eyes widened when she saw her first shot strike a blue barrier before skittering off into the night, where it dissipated into motes of mana.

One of them had a barrier skill, probably against arcane magic. Anything less focused wouldn’t have been effective against her conjured arrows. Grinding her teeth in frustration, she fired again before she lowered her bow to relocate. She never got the chance.

“Easy now,” came a husky, yet feminine voice. The words were accompanied by a hand gripping her hair and a knife at her throat. “Play nice. Wouldn’t want nobody to get hurt like your big friend, eh?”

Abby felt a drop of blood coursing down the contour of her neck. It was barely even a wound. Rather, it was a promise of consequences. If she fought back, the woman with a death grip on her hair would open her throat without a moment’s hesitation.

“Who are you?” Abby growled. “Why did you attack us?”

“Now, that’s a good question, girl,” came the woman’s throaty reply. “And one we’ll get to once everybody’s safe and sound. Now, move. Don’t try nothin’, or I’ll drop you quick and in a hurry.”

As the woman pushed her toward the light of the campfire, Abby studied the other three raiders. The big man was even taller than Vladimir had been, and he carried a giant sword to match. Beside him was a much smaller figure in a hooded cloak. From this person, Abby could see a few blue wisps of energy. The caster of the barrier skill, no doubt. The final member of the group was a beefy woman who looked like she could’ve been a professional wrestler. She carried no weapons, but Abby caught a glance at her reinforced gauntlets. A brawler, then.

“Go loot the big’un, Rafe,” the woman ordered, shoving Abby to the ground. Abby could have resisted and probably retained her feet, but she thought it best if she played along for now. Pudge was still out there, after all. And she knew Zeke wasn’t down for the count.

Abby rolled over, glancing back at her captor. The woman was tall, raw-boned, and one of the homeliest people Abby had ever seen. Everything just looked wrong. Her nose was too big and crooked, her eyes lopsided, and her face was like a shapeless potato. But there was an aura of danger about her. Of competence. She would not be an easy foe, and if Abby had a choice, she would have chosen to avoid the woman altogether. That wasn’t in the cards, though.

The big man – Rafe, apparently – stepped toward the cottage where Zeke was still lying on the porch. He was motionless, with a familiar crossbow bolt sticking out of his chest. She had seen its like before.

“Spiders,” Abby breathed, looking back at the tall, gaunt leader of the raiders. The woman had a wicked-looking dagger in one hand and a crossbow hanging from her hip. Obviously, she’d been the one to shoot Zeke. “Why?”

The woman sneered, “You think you can kill our friends and get away with it?” She spat a wad of phlegm onto Abby’s chest. “Trash. You might’ve been protected in Beacon, but out here…well, this is our world, bitch.”

She punctuated the last with a kick aimed at Abby’s midsection. It connected solidly, driving the breath from Abby’s lungs and making her feel like vomiting. The Crystal Spiders were mostly assassins, but they had a contingent of thugs in their employ as well. This group was clearly the latter; the leader might’ve used the trademark crossbow associated with the Spiders, but she didn’t possess the finesse expected of a real assassin. Abby inspected the woman.

Carla Jennings – Level 17

Abby shook her head. It seemed that lately, she was running into nothing but the evolved. Carla wasn’t a true elite – not at only level seventeen – but she was more than capable. No one reached that level without leaving a trail of corpses in their wake. Sure, there were plenty of people who paid adventurers to effectively power level them, but that stopped working after level fifteen. At that point, a person had to take charge of their own development. Abby had never been rich enough to pay for help; her power had been earned the hard way, and this Carla Jennings was probably in a similar boat.

She glanced at the other three, identifying them as well. Rafe was level twelve. The smaller figure, Tabby, was level fourteen. And the thick, muscular woman, Shonda, was level fifteen. A powerful group, so long as they had complimentary skills. And given that they were associated with the Crystal Spiders, Abby had no reason to suspect that they didn’t. Defeating them would be no easy task.

Not that it would matter if Zeke didn’t get up soon. Without him, Abby would be overwhelmed. She could probably take out one or two, but all four? That was beyond her, even after her evolution.

“What are you going to do with me?” Abby asked through gritted teeth. Inside, she pleaded, C’mon, Zeke. Get up!

“We’re supposed to take you in,” Carla spat. “But…well, accidents happen, yeah? Who’s to say you didn’t resist? Can’t fault us for takin’ things a bit too far, right? Maybe I’ll cut up that pretty face of yours. You know, because you fought back…”

Abby tried not to blanch. She wasn’t nearly as vain as she had been in her old life, but the prospect of having her face cut up was enough to make her flinch in fear, which only drew a laugh from the woman.

“Uh, boss?” called Rafe.

“What?” growled Carla, glaring at her subordinate.

“He ain’t dead,” the man said. “I think he –”

Just then, Zeke’s hand shot out, and he wrapped his fingers around the big man’s ankle. He yanked, sending the man sprawling. In a second, Zeke had sprung to his feet, summoned his club, and sent it careening into the fallen man’s face. With the sickening crunch of his crushed skull, Rafe met his end. It all happened so suddenly that no one had a chance to react before he was dead. And once their minds caught up to what had just happened, they were too stunned to move.

Zeke straightened to his full height, grabbed the haft of the crossbow bolt, and yanked it free. “Who’s next?” he asked, his voice little more than a whisper that still carried across the camp.

“But the poison…”

The squeaked comment came from the muscular woman; the disparity between her voice and her physique almost drew a chuckle from Abby. She suppressed the ridiculous thought, focusing back on the gaunt leader, who had already begun to raise the crossbow she’d had hanging from a strap at her belt. Just before she fired, Abby threw herself at Carla’s legs, and her efforts were rewarded with a solid thunk as her shot went wide and buried itself in the cottage’s wooden door.

That’s when the camp erupted into chaos.

As Abby rolled, Carla lost her balance, collapsing on top of her. Meanwhile, Pudge’s familiar roar echoed through the night as he launched himself at the smaller woman. Her barrier flashed, stopping Pudge’s claws, but it did nothing to stall his momentum. The pair went down in a heap. That left Zeke to charge the big woman, Shonda, who squeaked her own version of a roar before charging him right back. After that, Abby lost track of her friends’ battles, because she had Carla to worry about.

A dagger found its way to her shoulder, slicing through her pitifully weak, leather armor with ease and burying itself in her joint. Abby howled in pain, but mingled within that scream were equal parts rage and desperation. She kicked out, launching herself from the tangle that she and Carla’s limbs had become, and rolling to her feet. Not to be outdone, Carla did the same, her lanky body showing uncommon grace.

Abby took the opportunity to yank the dagger free from her shoulder. The pain nearly brought tears to her eyes, but she refused to let it show. Instead, she said, “Thanks for the weapon. I can always use a decent knife.”

“I’ll take it from your corpse, bitch!” spat the enraged woman, charging. Abby couldn’t react in time, and the woman hit her with a flying tackle that sent her sailing through the air. A moment later, she hit the ground, rolled, and struggled back to her feet. Luckily, Carla was still recovering from her own attack, and she hadn’t yet gotten her feet back under her.

Meanwhile, a battle raged around Abby. The woman with the shield skill – Tabby – was helpless before Pudge’s fury. She couldn’t escape from beneath his significant bulk. However, Pudge was just as incapable of piercing that skill, regardless of how hard he tried. Zeke’s battle was going better, but Shonda possessed just enough strength and endurance to weather his blows. They still did damage, but she had turned the fight into a battle of attrition. The outcome was never in doubt; Zeke would eventually win. But he wouldn’t do so quickly.

It all coalesced into one, simple fact: Abby would have to fight her own battle alone. Carla was her responsibility. And if she didn’t take care of the tall woman, it could spell disaster for her friends. Zeke was powerful, but he still had limits. If Carla was allowed to free Tabby, the small woman would cast her skill, weakening Zeke’s attacks. Then, the battle would shift in the raiders’ favor.

Abby reached to her waist where she’d hung her recently acquired hatchet. She hadn’t had much opportunity to use the weapon she’d gotten as a quest reward for killing the drachnid queen, so she had no notion of how strong it really was. She still remembered the item’s description, though:

Venomous Hatchet [G] – A well-constructed hatchet that harnesses the power of poison to empower its wielder’s strikes. Special Function – Drachnid Poison (minor), Self-Repair (minor)

It was a powerful weapon, but that had been no surprise, given that it had been a quest reward for killing an elite and decimating a nest of monsters whose numbers exceeded four digits. Now, she was going to see just how strong it was.

Hefting the weapon, she saw the faint, green sheen dancing along its blade. It felt perfectly balanced in her right hand. In her other, she held the dagger in a reverse grip. Carla, who’d regained her footing, retrieved a pair of short swords from her hips. One danced with arcing blue light, but the other seemed perfectly mundane, if well made.

“I’m gonna cut your fuckin’ arms off and feed them to you,” the woman spat.

“Gross,” Abby said under her breath. Then, she attacked, swinging her hatchet horizontally. It sliced through the air, narrowly missing a dodging Carla, who swung her blue-lit sword in turn. Abby ducked, letting it sail over her head, but she couldn’t completely avoid the woman’s other attack, which shaved a bit of muscle from Abby’s already injured shoulder.

She sprang back with a grimace, but she wouldn’t let it slow her down. If she allowed the minor wound to distract her, Carla would skewer her in an instant. Abby was already outmatched, in terms of stats. Despite her recently acquired achievements, she was still two levels below the other woman, after all.

Just as she’d begun to ready herself for another attack, Abby felt a surge of power, a familiar sensation that announced that Zeke had targeted her with his new skill, [Mark of the Bear], which sent her endurance and vitality soaring past her previous limits. It didn’t help much with her current wounds, but it would hopefully help her overcome her opponent. The vitality might not be a huge deal, but the endurance would allow her to resist the woman’s attacks a little more easily. Abby stepped forward and resumed the battle with renewed savagery.

Carla immediately went on her back foot, surprised by Abby’s ferocity. Every time she dodged one blade, the other would be on its way. So, it wasn’t long before Abby’s hatchet found its mark. It was a simple wound. Barely more than a scratch on the woman’s left arm. But the [Venomous Hatchet] proved true to its name. In seconds, Carla’s arm went limp; the poison mirrored that of the drachnids, which combined a necrotic effect with a paralytic. It obviously wasn’t enough to completely overcome Carla’s endurance or vitality, but it seemed more than capable of taking her limb out of the fight.

“W-what did you do?” the woman snarled. Then, her voice took on the aspect of fear as she muttered, “Poison shouldn’t…it shouldn’t…”

Abby wasn’t listening. Instead, she darted back into the fray, her weapons swinging, stabbing, and slicing. By trade, she was not a melee fighter. She hated when she had to get up close and personal. However, she’d had to do it often enough that she had long since developed a good deal of skill. And as she attacked Carla, she utilized everything she’d learned in her eight-plus years of adventuring.

Even so, Carla was no pushover. She was one-armed, and with every passing second, she picked up more wounds. However, the woman was tenacious, skilled, and stronger than she had any right to be. But it was a losing battle. She knew it, too. Abby could see it in the woman’s eyes. Finally, after a furious clash, Carla put some distance between her and her opponent.

“Enough,” she sighed. Then, she called out, “Stop fighting back, Shonda! We’re surrendering!”

Abby furrowed her brows, saying, “What? Really?”

As if to punctuate her declaration, Carla dropped her weapons and raised her hands high into the air. “We’re not –”

Abby didn’t hesitate. The moment the woman relaxed her guard, she sprang forward and buried her hatchet in Carla’s exposed neck. In the past, she might not have done such a thing. The woman had surrendered. The right thing to do would have been to take her prisoner and drop her off at one of the waystations along the way. Then, Carla and her gang of raiders would face the consequences of their actions.

But Abby had learned her lesson. The incident with Julio had pushed her over the edge. With him, she had done the right thing. The moral thing. She had saved him despite the warnings going off in her head. And then, she’d paid the price. Or rather, Vladimir had. Carla might have been a different flavor of villain than Julio, but she was the same sort of person. She was perfectly willing to flaunt the rules of society, to eschew all notions of morality, then depend on the goodness of others when it suited her.

Abby wouldn’t let someone like that take advantage of her again. Not anymore.

“I accept your surrender,” she said as the woman sank to her knees. Carla’s hands went to her neck, but there was no staunching the flow of blood. She was dead. She just hadn’t realized it yet.

Abby turned to see that Zeke had taken advantage of Shonda’s momentary shock to land a blow on the woman’s knee. It had been forced to bend in precisely the wrong direction. The woman fell. With a brutal, overhand blow, Zeke ensured that the muscular woman would never rise again.

Meanwhile, Pudge had made no progress against Tabby’s powerful shield skill. But that didn’t matter. The woman had clearly focused everything on defense. She wasn’t a threat. Not now. Not anymore.

Abby’s shoulders sagged with the weight of her decision, but she refused to second-guess herself. These people had tried to kill her and her friends. Killing them was entirely justified. So, why did it leave such a bitter taste in her mouth?