Aquila's voice in Hunter's mind was startling, to say the least. He didn't realize the eagle could communicate in anything more than feelings and vague impressions. Not only that, but the voice sounded male. Hunter hadn't known the sex of the bird this entire time, but now he was sure. Aquila was a boy eagle. Hunter chuckled to himself. He guessed it was too much to hope for a nice, comforting companion.

Uh…hey Aquila.

The bird dipped its head in greeting but continued its tirade.

Enough of this whining. You killed well, and there's still a hunt to accomplish.

Okay, so definitely not a nice eagle, Hunter thought to himself. Despite what the teenager had told himself about having an eagle's personality, he couldn't help but recoil from the abrasiveness in Aquila's voice.

Yeah, but they were once humans too. Plus, my grandparents are here as well. I shouldn't kill them.

Aquila tilted his head in confusion and glared with one silver eye.

What are grandparents?

Hunter tried to think of a way to explain the relationship between his grandparents and him.

Well, they're uh… they're the parents of my parents. They would be the eagles that laid the eggs that became the eagles who laid your egg.

As soon as Hunter said the words, he knew the eagle would have difficulty understanding the concept.

What do they matter then? They're old birds soon to die anyway. If they're in your way, remove them. Let nature take its course. It's natural for those too long in the beak to give way to the younger generation. Or are you worried they're too experienced to defeat? From what I've seen, none of these black-hearts are too difficult for you.

Hunter was uncomfortable with Aquila's assessment. It wasn't that he couldn't kill them. It was that he shouldn't. How did one explain morality to a predator?

Well, I care for them.

Hunter thought it was a bit disingenuous to say that he loved them. They had done nothing in his entire life but degrade and embarrass Hunter's mom and himself. They were more like capricious and distant deities that only deigned to descend from their perch to deliver rebukes to the unwashed masses. Hunter accepted that it wasn't a completely fair characterization, but even in the Rift, they had tried to fuck him over. Maybe Aquila was right…

I see, Aquila nodded his head. They are potential mates.

The eagle's tone grew solemn. Manling, you must pick a mate that will be strong enough to create a clutch of powerful hunters. I do not think these black-hearts would be a good match for you. Eagles mate for life, but I'm sure manlings do the same. That makes your decision even more important.

Hunter felt like he swallowed his own tongue. He had no idea whether to be angry or embarrassed. In either case, refuting the eagle didn't seem like much use.

You know what? Nevermind, Aquila. You're right. Let's go kill the rest of the uh…black-hearts.

The eagle preened its feathers with its wickedly sharp beak. Hunter sensed satisfaction from their bond.

I know, manling. If you need more advice on the matter, please let me know. I have not picked a mate yet, but that's a good thing. Now that I'm stronger, I must find someone of equal strength.

The arrogance and self-confidence in Aquila's tone was almost sickening. Hunter had so many questions he wanted to ask the eagle, but that would have to wait. Aquila was right that the hunt needed to commence. He had mourned the deaths of his victims long enough. It was time that he got this quest over and got away from this Rift.

He transferred Aquila to his shoulder and then walked out of the house. The outside road was clear of any observers, so he activated his Shadow of the Black Wind and blurred from sight. Hunter felt Aquila lift off from his shoulder and take to the skies. The same hazy barrier that protected Hunter from discovery wreathed the bird as well.

Hunter reached out through their bond and found that their communication worked just as well from a distance.

Hey Aquila, can you give me an idea of what you see up there?

Manling, ten black-hearts are roaming the man-nest. They are closer to the center of the nest. I don't see any black-hearts near your position.

Hunter nodded at the strange descriptions provided by the eagle. He resolved to teach Aquila some different terms later on.

Can you send me a vision of what you can see?

I am unable to do so. Maybe when our bond grows stronger.

Fair, Hunter decided to himself. Having the eyes of an eagle would be a blessing in the future. It would be hard to sneak up on him with an eye in the sky. Hunter was already pleased with the information Aquila could provide.

I'm going to enter the nearest house and make my way through the Outpost. Keep a lookout and warn me if someone is coming toward my position.

Hunter felt acceptance of his plan through their shared connection. There were about twenty different domiciles within the Outpost. Each one would have one or two occupants. Hunter hadn't seen any children—thankfully—so he would target as many buildings as possible before moving on to the guards roaming outside.

After picking the lock on the first house, Hunter entered and found it abandoned. Regardless, Hunter went through the house and looted any supplies he might need. He couldn't help it. If the world wanted to act like a video game, he would treat it as such—the first rule of games: loot everything.

His thievery accomplished, Hunter moved into the next building in line. He had just opened the door when a man with flail ambushed him. The studded ball of the flail cracked against the wood where Hunter's head had previously occupied the space. The teenager deactivated his active camouflage and ducked under the weapon's tinkling chain to face the tiefling squarely.

The demon had already wrenched the ball out of the wood and was spinning it quickly.

"You thought you were sneaky enough to get in without me detecting you? The lock being disengaged is a dead give away thief! I won't be stolen from again."

Yikes, Hunter thought. I guess it makes sense that a town full of greedy demons would steal from each other.

Hunter drew his staff from his storage ring and whirled it experimentally. He planted the butt of the weapon against the ajar door and slammed it shut. Privacy ensured, he summoned a blade of black wind to the end of his spear. He cocked his head at the tiefling.

"Your move."

The tiefling roared in anger and brought his flail down in a punishing arc. Instead of meeting the flail head-on, Hunter pivoted to the side and spun his staff until he cracked the demon upside his unarmored, purple-skinned head. One of the demon's horns was sheared off, and a cracking sound emanated from the man's damaged skull. He reached up to fend off further blows and retreated a pace to get his bearings. He left his flail lodged in the wooden floor.

Hunter didn't follow the tieflings retreat. Sometimes it was wise to capitalize on an enemy's mistake, but the teenager knew the demon wouldn't have left his flail if there weren't a backup weapon prepared. Surely, no one was that stupid.

The demon lowered its hands and settled into a boxing stance. One cat-like pupil was dilated far more than the other, and Hunter frowned.

Okay, maybe he was that stupid, and my expectations were too high.

"Fight me like a man, bitch," the tiefling snarled as he threw a few punches in the air.

My expectations were way too high—still, no reason I can't oblige.

Hunter dismissed his staff to his storage ring and then advanced on the tiefling with black wind turning his fingers into claws. He didn't hold his hands like a boxer. Instead, they were slightly open like a mixed martial arts fighter. Punching wasn't really Hunter's style. With the black wind bolstering his eagle style, he was more capable of grabbing, holding, and piercing. No punching required.

The tiefling threw a punch, but before it connected, emerald fire wreathed it's length and turned the blow into a shrieking comet. To Hunter's advanced senses, the move was as clear as a billboard on a sunny day. The strike itself looked slow. To Hunters Eye of the Hurricane, the attack revealed more openings than it prevented.

Hunter didn't wasn't any time dismantling his opponent. He ducked around the punch, brought his left hand to grip the elbow of the thrown arm, and used his strength to punch through the offending joint. It shattered into bone and black blood. Hunter continued gripping the limb to pull the tiefling and throw the demon off balance.

The maneuver opened up the warrior as his other arm flung out to the side to maintain some form of balance. Hunter threw an uppercut with his right hand. His claws were extended, and they punched through the soft flesh of the demon's throat. He knifed his fingers through the abused flesh until they struck the bone of the demon's neck and skull.

Hunter didn't remove his claws and let the black wind flow from the impact. Muscles were atrophied, flesh was mummified, and tendons were disintegrated. Meanwhile, a rush of power flooded Hunter's veins. He was almost giddy on his own strength as the corpse fell to its knees.

Hunter removed his talons, condensed a soul gem, and absorbed any remaining energy from the dead tiefling. When the process was complete, he raided the tieflings armaments and then moved on to his storage ring. He scooped everything he could find into his own storage ring and looked around the small building for any valuable trinkets. There wasn't much to steal, but Hunter was going to take every advantage he could. Who knew what the young warrior would need when he left the Rift?

Mischief managed, Hunter left the building and closed the door, feeling quite proud of himself. His abilities were advanced enough that a basic tiefling was no longer any concern. So long as a group didn't ambush him, he could continue these small duels until the Outpost was cleared.

Too slow, manling. You need to pick up the pace.

Aquila's critique took all of the wind out of Hunter's sails.

Got it, boss! He replied cheekily.