Blair cackled, “Boy, what do you think you’re going to do about it?”

Hunter didn’t answer. He only edged toward the door. He had no desire to fight his grandparents. However, that hesitation didn’t extend to James. Hunter would put the mayor down in a heartbeat. Hunter might care for his grandparents, twisted as they were, but James was just another demon to the teenager.

Hunter’s movements didn’t escape unnoticed. James’ eyes flashed, and he touched the storage ring on his hand to draw a gleaming Blade of Avarice.

“Hunter, don’t make this more difficult than it should be,” James soothed. “You’ve done the Great One a service. He isn’t going to cast you aside like that damn Archivist. Your grandparents already told me that the blank-faced asshole was the one who sent you here. You’re just like us. You’re a Gold. There’s no reason for you to run from the power you’re being offered.”

Hunter’s eyes flashed between James and his grandparents. In a similar fashion as James, Hank had drawn a long trident while Hunter’s grandmother had summoned two green fireballs to her palms. Hunter didn’t spot a focus on either of her wrists, so he assumed she naturally came by the abilities. It was disturbing to see an expression of vicious glee cross their features. They were enjoying this. It almost made him consider attacking them as well.

No, just make a show of force. Get James to back the fuck off and then run. I don’t have the ability to beat three targets. None of my abilities are geared that way.

The teenager’s gaze flicked back to James, and his Eye of the Hurricane started feeding him information. Only two of his opponents wore armor. James and Hank had both chosen to wear the golden plate favored by the rest of the tieflings. Grandma Blair only wore a cloth tunic and trousers. She was the soft target, but he had no desire to hit a woman. He knew it was stupid. She could light him up like a match. Still, it felt wrong to attack his own flesh and blood.

All three of them seemed unfamiliar with their weapons and armor. James carried his sword like it was an accessory. It was held tightly in the man’s grip like it was a hammer. There would be no elegance to his attacks—all brute force and anger. Meanwhile, Hank held the gaudy trident awkwardly. He seemed almost embarrassed to be holding the weapon.

It was a stupid thing to be worried about. Hunter had used a trident when he had nothing else, then he had switched to a sword because he didn’t know any better. Finally, he had his staff. It wasn’t the most intimating of weapons, but after the practice Hunter had put in, he felt more comfortable with his spire than either of his previous weapons.

The funniest thing of all was that none of the tieflings were wearing helmets. They were too vain to take to heart the lesson Hunter had already learned—getting hit in the face sucks. Hunter gripped his staff and flipped it upward as he took a controlled step forward. The end of his staff cracked James in the jaw before executing a perfect Wing Sweep that threw James from his feet. Hunter summoned a Black Tornado and threw it at his grandmother as the tiefling mayor crashed to the ground in a cacophony of clanging metal.

The tornado hit the fireball closest to Hank and turned the controlled flame into a raging firestorm. Hunter assumed that the tieflings would have a higher natural fire resistance than he did, so he hoped it wouldn’t harm them too much. His grandmother’s clothing might be destroyed —Ew—but hopefully, she would remain unscathed. What it did do was create a brilliant distraction. As emerald fire was whipping around the empty tavern, Hunter was making his escape. He rushed out of the building as he heard the tieflings cursing behind him.

When he exited the building, he found himself the center of attention. All around him, tieflings were circled up and brandishing weapons. Hunter didn’t understand how they had known where to be or what to do.

Is there a chat system like a video game?

Hunter couldn’t afford to think about that. Since he wasn’t technically in combat anymore, he activated Gale Rush and turned into a gust of wind. He targeted the spell toward one of the furthest tieflings in the mob, and so he was able to slip past the rest like an errant breeze. When his body coalesced in front of the surprised tiefling, Hunter didn’t attack. Instead, he evaded the clumsy sword thrust from the tiefling and beat a path toward the nearest cabin.

When he neared the wall, he activated the effect on his boots and leaped up two platforms of compressed air until he could grip the roof of the building and haul himself up. Most of the crowd was still too surprised to attack, but a couple of the more intelligent tieflings threw fireballs at him. Hunter couldn’t dodge them, so he reacted without thinking. He twirled his staff and channeled Black Wind up its length. When a fireball hit the staff, he dispersed the fire with a cushion of air and let the wind’s energy-stealing properties drain away their lethality.

Hunter heard Aquila shrieking in the air above him, but he silently willed the bird to stay airborne. Neither of them had the ability to fight so many opponents. All Hunter could do was escape. He might be able to take the tieflings on singularly or in pairs, but the three dozen or so demons in front of him was impossible. At least on the roof, Hunter could control how many opponents could reach him directly. The battle would likely become one of attrition, and he would still probably lose.

The door to the mayor’s home crashed open, and James came barreling out of the doorway with hate writ on his face.

“You stupid, fucking boy,” he snarled. “We’re trying to help your dumb ass.”

He walked through the crowd, and the other tieflings rushed to get out of the man’s way. There was an invisible bubble of space that sheltered the tieflings passage. While James approached, Hunter allowed his cloak to cover the arm not wielding the spire. He quietly summoned another black tornado to his palm while checking over his base values. His health was full, his stamina had only been minority affected, and his mana was still around ninety percent. Most of his skills could replenish their own mana cost. However, the effects on his boots took a large portion of his mana when used in succession.

“I don’t want to see the Great One,” Hunter remarked. He hated the quivering in his voice. He wanted to be a warrior, not a frightened teenager. Besides, his statement wasn’t expressly true. He did want to see the Rift Keeper; he just didn’t want the demon to see him. It was a minor distinction, but an important one.

“Well, you don’t have a choice, Gold. I already called for a Pilfer to come claim you in case you try to escape.” The tiefling seemed more angry about having to call in the cavalry rather than Hunter’s stubborn refusal to go along with his plan.

“If that Pilfer makes it here before I capture you, I lose a piece of my cut! That’s not happening,” James snarled.

With his words, the tiefling stowed his sword before sprinting toward Hunter’s temporary safety. The teenager watched James clinically and readied his Black Tornado. He was momentarily distracted by his grandparents exiting the mayor’s building. They were more pissed than Hunter had ever seen them. Both of them had scorch marks on their faces and body. His grandmother’s hair had been burned away, and her clothing had suffered, but neither of them looked grievously wounded. Hunter said a silent prayer of thanks to any real or imagined gods and then turned his attention back to the advancing mayor.

With a leap, the tiefling was able to grip the edge of the roof and then smoothly pull himself up. Hunter didn’t wait for the mayor to get his bearing and directly threw his Black Tornado into the man’s face. The wind buffeted around them, and Hunter felt his mana returning in a trickle, but the gust wasn’t powerful enough to dislodge the demon.

Hunter drew and threw his throwing spikes in rapid succession without waiting for the tiefling to push his way through the wind. Hunter had aimed for the tieflings face, but James had the presence of mind to lift his hands to block the deadly projectiles. They sank into one of the man’s forearms before dislodging their draining payload. Hunter watched with a measure of satisfaction as the limb withered, and the man screamed.

Hunter was already in motion by the time the spikes dissipated. James grimaced as he withdrew his sword from his ring of storage and met Hunter’s two-handed Diving Eagle head on. Hunter’s gleaming platinum staff met the golden blade and rebounded with a metal keening that grated against the ears. Instead of letting the momentum travel down his arm, Hunter dispersed the rebound by following through with another strike.

His Reverse Talon was poised to punch through James’ throat, but at the last minute, James’ sword lit up with green flames as the tiefling was able to deflect the second attack. Not wanting to commit with the man in an exchange of blows. Hunter absorbed the second rebound by spinning away from the tiefling’s effective range and settled into his Eagle Stance. Hunter’s breathing was smooth, and there was only a small trickle of sweat running down his back. Fighting ghorum for days at a time had improved Hunter’s economy of motion. There was nothing wasted in his maneuvers, and all of his energy was being spent toward landing a killing blow.

A manic gleam lit James’ eyes as the two opponents studied each other.

“Enough playing around, boy. It seems I’ll have to show you why greed is better than your party tricks.”

James started to circle Hunter as the tiefling started twirling his sword in a small circle. Hunter mirrored the man’s positioning as the tiefling started generating more and more of the deadly emerald flame. Hunter had no desire to let any of the fire touch him. Not only would it hurt, but it would sap some of his precious energy. Flames of Avarice were the foundation of Hunter’s own abilities. He knew very well what they would do to him if he allowed it.

When the two combatants had almost completely exchanged places by their circling, the tiefling struck. He spun his word in a combination of horizontal and vertical slashes. Whips of fire spread from the tip of the blade and roared toward Hunter. In response, the teenager suffused his spire with Black Wind and started his own whirling defense. He deflected the tongues of fire to the side and evaded the ones he couldn’t deflect.

James burst through the figurative wall of flame as Hunter blocked the last one. The tiefling launched into a frenetic and crazy series of attacks. Hunter desperately defended from the onslaught of attacks. He had better deflection angles due to his weapon, but he was having a difficult time keeping up with James’ sheer rage. With every strike, Eye of the Hurricane was analyzing the man’s attack patterns and revealing weaknesses for Hunter to capitalize on. Hunter swung the tip of his staff upward when the killing blow was revealed and activated his Wind Lance. The perfectly timed strike was rocketing toward James’ face when a fireball crashed into Hunter’s back.

The explosion threw Hunter forward, and his aim was thrown off so that instead of killing James, his staff erred sideways and ripped a long gash in the side of James’ mouth until it extended all the way past the tieflings ear.

Meanwhile, Hunter’s entire body was in pain. His cloak and tunic on his back had been burned away, and he could already feel the melting flesh and smell the burning hair. It smelled like cooking bacon, and Hunter screamed as he realized it was his own flesh that was cooking. He collapsed on his side and narrowly rolled to avoid James’ follow-up strike. The mayor’s face had become a ruined mess of torn flesh and gushing black blood. Sharpened fangs had been shattered, and the tiefling’s left ear had been shorn away.

The maneuver caused Hunter to cry out as he rolled onto his burning flesh. He awkwardly raised his staff to block another strike from James. The effort left Hunter’s arm shaking from the vibrations. His fingers were barely clinging to his spire as he felt the full power and fury of the tiefling mayor.

Abruptly, the mayor snarled and stepped away from Hunter. He turned his head and snarled at the crowd below.

‘You couldn’t throw that fucking fireball a little sooner, Blair?”

James sighed. “Fuck it. It’s too late.”

There was a resounding crack as the most horrific monster Hunter had ever seen landed on the roof. The pilfer had arrived.