The training continued throughout the entirety of the day until all the tieflings had been defeated and their souls consumed. By the end, Hunter had been able to fend off three opponents at once. It was less than he had hoped. When he tried to fight four, it was just enough opponents for him to get resoundingly beaten. He had been on the verge of death when the pilfer had called a stop to the activities. Hunter had felt ashamed that the demon had to step in on his behalf. After that happened, he focused on fighting different trios to various degrees of success.

When he was fighting all melee users, his mobility allowed him to strike the combatants and get out of return range. He learned a new evasion technique that he called Gale Spin. It allowed him to bolster his dodges with black wind from which he could launch any number of attacks. When it was combined with a Wing Toss, he could shoulder throw opponents with enough force that they cracked the stone brick upon landing.

His style became focused on grappling, turning, and quickly moving out of retaliatory range. Quick Talon Punches often crippled or outright killed his enemies. By infusing his feet with black wind, he was able to apply the same principles to kicks. These became Talon Kicks that could punch through armor and flesh alike. He eventually learned to replicate his Windstriders and learned how to Wind Walk. It cost far less energy and allowed him to leap into the air and descend with a deadly Talon Kick or Talon Punch.

It bothered him that more than three opponents could effectively nullify his evasiveness. With a couple of melee users to lock him down, the spell casters could focus fire and bring him to his knees. Despite all the success Hunter had found, he couldn’t deny the reality of the situation. He was too squishy to tank through multiple magical attacks. He wanted to find some method of turning his resistances into a true defense. Unfortunately, none of his enemies had a related skill, and the pilfer didn’t deign to teach him any new ways of surviving magical onslaughts.

When the last tiefling fell, the pilfer gave him a grave nod with its torso.

“You’ve come far in a day. The Keeper will be pleased with your progress. The Lord will more easily acclimate to your body now that you’ve trained your body to a suitable degree.”

The demon’s words reminded Hunter that all of his progress was in pursuit of turning Hunter into a more perfect Vessel. Hunter still didn’t have the strength to defeat a pilfer, and there was even less of a chance of him defeating the Keeper. Even though the young warrior had profited from the training, he was still at a loss on how to escape the Keeper with his soul intact. He was greedy for power, but he wasn’t stupid. Hunter knew he was being fattened like a lamb to slaughter.

In the beginning, he had dismissed the tiefling slave’s words of warning. However, he had been too arrogant in thinking that he would escape the Infernal Horde’s machinations. As he fought tiefling after tiefling, he realized that if they were willing to sacrifice that many of their foot soldiers, they had no qualms about sacrificing a no-name teenager. He started to regret ever being sent to the Rift in the first place.

Everything came back to the same question. Why did the Archivist send him in the first place? Surely, he wasn’t special by not having a clear faction alignment. Hunter’s grandparents were aligned with the Horde when the first Revelation descended on Earth. There were sure to be people like Hunter’s mother who would be aligned with the Heavenly Host. Hunter couldn’t imagine his mother having to serve at the whims of a bunch of demons. Where did that leave him? A pawn of both factions doomed to become prey? The implications were dispiriting.

Hunter shoved his feelings down. He needed to focus on the immediate situation. He needed to find a way to steal more power from the greed demons and escape their clutches.

“What now?” Hunter wondered aloud.

The pilfers maw opened wide in a monstrous smile.

“Now, I take you to see the Keeper. He will want to get a good look at you and hear about your progress.”

Hunter nodded, resigned to his fate, and followed the pilfer’s beckoning. They left the courtyard and entered into the warren of stone tunnels. The building’s interior resembled a monastery. When Hunter had been a kid, his mom had taken him to see the St. Anthony’s Monastery in southern Arizona. Hunter wasn’t sure if his mom had wanted to go there to see the sights or if she was trying to find faith within the sand-colored walls.

It was the gold-paneled walls that brought the memory to mind. Small columns crowned the edges of every wall. On the bottom, half had a golden cap embossed with a snarling demon, while the upper half had painted frescoes that showed victorious Infernal forces waging war against the Heavenly Host. The structure was a funhouse mirror of the Sanctuary. It symbolized the two factions’ duality and impressed upon Hunter the strength and power that each faction held.

Thankfully, the walkways were expansive enough that the massive pilfer could navigate them easily. It took almost five minutes to ascend the collection of hallways and spiral staircases to reach a large room that had two large wooden doors at the end. Hunter peered around the room to find more of the painted battle scenes and carved pictograms in each of the stone tiles underfoot. It was ostentatious and gaudy, but Hunter thought it beautiful. It was a picture of wealth that he wanted for himself.

The teenager moved to cross the space and enter through the wooden double doors, but a hand from the pilfer stopped him.

“Wait, young Vessel.”

Hunter obeyed the command and resisted the urge to ask why. Likely rushing into the room beyond would be some kind of demonic faux pas, and the teenager would get reduced to cinders. As Hunter was considering what kind of creature the Keeper would be, an earthquake shuddered through the space. Golden chandeliers above their heads twinkled and clinked from the vibrations. A smattering of dust was dislodged from the arched ceiling and spiraled to the ground in front of the pair.

“It seems the Keeper is still having trouble with that damned Sentinel,” the pilfer announced before removing his hand from Hunter’s chest.

When the shuddering stopped, the pilfer gestured for Hunter to move ahead. Swallowing heavily, Hunter hefted his staff and paced forward. The click of his staff against the stone tiles was his only companion. Hunter looked over his shoulder, but the pilfer hadn’t moved from its spot. It waved it ahead with two of its three arms.

Hunter neared the doors and shoved one open with a hand. The room beyond was breathtaking. Black tiles stretched the distance of the room. They were polished until they reflected their surroundings like a mirror. Black columns lined the side of each room and were gilded with gold. An emerald tapestry hung from each column, and a complicated symbol was picked out in gold thread on each surface. At the end of the room, an empty olivine throne glowed with greenish light. Small lime-colored flames floated in the air like will-o’-the-wisps and cast their illumination on the throne room. Behind the throne, a spiraled black arch stretched over the room like a dark specter. It matched the portals in the Sanctuary but looked inert.

As deadly beautiful as the room was, it was nothing in comparison to the occupants. Two beings stood in front of the empty face before the throne.

One was a crimson-scaled humanoid with dragon-like features. It had a lizard-like body with a long sweeping tail. The front of the creature had golden flesh that resembled a snake’s belly. The exterior of the demon was covered in ruby-colored scales. Spines extended from its elbows, shoulders, and knees. Both its hands and feet had thick black talons that looked like they could punch through metal. Great bat wings extended from its shoulders, and they twitched with the demon’s fury. As intimidating as the demon’s body was, it was matched by its monstrous visage. Its dragon-like maw was filled with gold needle-like teeth, and its eyes were lit with emerald fire. The demon didn’t notice Hunter arrived, too focused on the heavenly creature in front of it.

The demon’s victim was a beautiful blonde-haired woman. Her skin was as pale as cream, and she had soft white wings that trailed behind her kneeling form. She was secured to the ground by thick black chains that were studded with metal thorns. They pierced her body, and Hunter could see silvery blood dripping onto the black tiles below. She turned at Hunter’s arrival and stared at him with eyes the color of a clear sky. Hunter felt like she was looking into his very soul. Time seemed to stop as he felt a presence settle into his mind.

You’re here. Thank the Architect.

The angel was battered and bloodied. Feathers had been torn from her wings, and her body was a litany of old and new scars layered upon one another. Still, when she saw Hunter…she smiled.