One by one I placed the eighteen stones I had prepared yesterday evening. Their exact positioning wasn’t super important; a vaguely circular shape with stones at equidistant intervals was sufficient. It would have been a nightmare if they did need more precise placement. With my eyesight, even the gray stones closest to me were only barely distinguishable on the dull, sandy riverbank.

Once activated the runestones would create a Tonaltus field in the space they encircled. With the little energy I had infused them with it would only be enough to weaken, not to debilitate or kill.

These runes were one of the reasons I didn’t want the villagers to witness this. It wasn’t just about their safety. Tonaltus fields were an Inquisition trick. My father would be executed if they ever learned he had spread their secrets.

Inquisitor runes like these ones were also the reason I wanted to stay clear of the Inquisition at all cost. Against hybrid Metzus-Atlus creatures like an ahuizotl they were effective. For someone like me who had an exclusively Metzus vessel, I wouldn’t live long if I stepped inside that field.

I had encircled the entire lair with the stones, leaving only the entrance tunnel outside the field. Doing it like this would drive the ahuizotl out. Then, at the entrance, while they were still recovering, I would be waiting for them.

Such was the theory anyway. They’d recover fast. Real fast. I glanced up at the slowly setting sun. We were on the west bank, but the lair was too far from the treeline. The shade from the trees didn’t reach the entrance yet. I’d be fighting these things in the sunlight, just as weakened as they were, maybe even more so.

Wait for the shade?

The idea was tempting. If I waited a little longer, let the sun drop a little lower, behind the trees, then I could fight them in the shade. But that would be cutting it close. If they woke up before then I’d be in an even worse position. Still just as weak, yet without the element of surprise. So no, I really couldn’t wait this out any longer.

Of course, an actual Inquisitor would have tackled this situation entirely differently. They’d put down a much more potent field, over a much wider area. They’d fight the ahuizotl inside the field itself, so they remained weakened. Neither of those things would ever be an option for me.

Aaah… this sucks so much!

Testing the limits of control over my body in the sun, I jumped up and down a couple of times. I’d need to do a lot more than simple hops in a second. Focus was essential, freedom from distractions. I exhaled one final time, then stilled my breathing and my heart.

Just like last night, I reached deep inside me. When the familiar squelch that sounds like my insides turning to mush came, the world tilted. Blinking away the pain I fought to stay on my feet.

The Tonaltus slipped from my grasp. Grimacing I dove after the fraying strands of energy before they could dissipate. My knees hit the dirt, then my hands as I struggled to remain conscious. Something shifted in my gut that felt like it really shouldn’t be doing that. I held out, reclaimed control.

Really so much worse than I remembered.

Sun and casting, shit combo.

Never doing this again. Please don’t forget that this time.

I really should have been prepared for that. I knew doing this was going to be terrible out in the sun, but even then I had underestimated just how bad it was. Too much rune crafting in too short a timespan. My unnatural healing was slowly catching up though. Momentary excruciating pain was a price I gladly paid for the advantage it would give me.

Fighting through the worst of it I crawled towards the first runestone. Touching it with two fingers I activated its runes. The tiny extra drain of the activation sent fresh pangs of agony deep into my core. Not letting go of the energy, I moved on to the next stone, and the next. After the fourth, I managed to scramble to my feet. Finally, I had activated every rune except for the last one right next to the entrance of the lair.

Crouching at the ready at the entrance, blade drawn, I activated the last stone and the runes on my blade in quick succession. Then I cut the connection to the Tonaltus inside me. In every fight, activating my blade’s runes always came last. They were… complicated. They were sort of like a Tonaltus field, but on top of the containment layer, there were extras for sharpness, deliberate destructiveness, and some other minor effects.

The range of the projected field only extended an inch or two beyond the blade. That was enough to be dangerous to me. If I kept the blade far enough away from me it would be about a minute before I no longer had the hand that was holding its hilt. If the blade accidentally touched my body… I’d be a smear on the ground.

So now the clock was ticking. I grit my teeth while my right hand, the hand gripping the hilt, burned from the inside out. Agonizing seconds ticked by. A moistness that most definitely wasn’t sweat pooled into my glove.

I adjusted my grip on the hilt to account for the new slipperiness. Even those tiny finger movements sent pain lacerating up my arm. I worked through the pain, knowing it wouldn’t take long before my hand would be so far gone I was no longer able to feel it. Then the mound in front of me quaked. The first ahuizotl erupted from the hole in the ground. As it did I dashed past the opening, sword held out.

The enchanted blade sunk into the side of its skull as its jaw opened to grab on to my arm. Instead of the jaw snapping shut, the blade cut through skull and bone and tendon like it was little more than loose sand. The lower half of its skull fell down to the ground and the mutilated monster followed soon after.

Meanwhile, I crashed hard on my shoulder and rolled awkwardly. My jump had been aimed to deliver a killing blow, not to make a pretty landing. Already I struggled to keep a grip on the hilt through my fall and subsequent roll. It had taken too long for them to come out. Not much longer now and all I’d have left in that glove would be a roiling mush over slowly macerating bone.

While I was still getting back to my feet the second one was out unscathed. It lunged and I could only roll out of the way. I repeated the same roll for the second lunge. The third time, when it was prepared for me to roll, I dove at it instead.

Shoving my left elbow under its throat I created an opening. My sword sunk deep in its flank. Then I was on the ground with the creature on top of me. From the way it kept snapping at me, I knew the angle had been bad. I hadn’t hit anything vital. And I could no longer get the blade out and try again. By the slush oozing out of my glove and down my right arm I could tell there wasn’t much more than bone left in that glove.

I didn’t get even a second of respite. The third one had entered the fray, coming at me from behind, going for my exposed neck that the one on top of me couldn’t yet reach. I released pressure on the second one’s throat while I brought my left shoulder up. The minute movement was enough for the one behind me to chew sand.

It also gave the one on top of me enough freedom to tear into the offered shoulder. The low rumble in the back of the creature’s throat rang right next to my ear as its fangs sank straight through my padded armor and into my flesh.

I screeched in pain, soundless without air in my lungs. I forced my wounded shoulder into further motion before the fangs digging into my flesh would cost me my arm. Something splintered in my shoulder under the pressure of the monster’s jaws, but with my shoulder slightly further forward my left hand could now reach the hilt of my blade.

I yanked the sword free at an angle, widening the hole in the beast's torso as I did so. The creature on top of me slackened, no longer able to support its own weight. Before it could crush me underneath it I threw the blade behind me.

I had practiced throwing, but never like this. I was pinned under a dead ahuizotl, and my shoulder refused to move the way I wanted it to. It was a bad throw, barely grazing the side of the third demon. Yet bad as it was it allowed me just enough time to partially crawl out from underneath the crushing weight on top of me.

I had my arms free when the third one came for me once more. So when it rushed at my neck I pushed past the pain, pulled it closer with what little muscle control I had left in my arms, and reciprocated. Its jaws closed around my neck at the same time as my fangs pierced its jugular. While it bit down I drank.

I hoped its biting strength wasn’t strong enough to overcome the speed I healed at from drinking. That way I’d be able to bleed it dry before it could kill me. I could feel it chewing at my neck, a slight release of pressure, a minute reposition, then even deeper and more painful torture.

Eventually, something snapped at the back of my head. I wanted to scream out in pain, but doing so would doom me. So fighting through the agony I kept drinking until slowly the crushing pressure around my neck lessened. Keeping hold of its neck with my fangs I followed the dying creature to the ground.

The thing was about two-thirds empty by the time I regained some feeling in my body. The first new sensation I experienced was more pain. But it was a distant pain, muted, dulled by the rush of fresh blood.

No longer dying was liberating. I suddenly had the luxury of gagging. Monster blood wasn’t much better than human food. The only thing it had going for it was that it was still blood. And so I cradled the corpse in my arms and kept drinking until I had emptied it out.

Really, the things I do when there’s so much real food within spitting distance.

…

Real food?

Within spitting distance?

I dropped the carcass, kicked myself out from underneath the other creature. Wiping off my mouth on my sleeve I turned towards the new scent. Right next to where I had left Fern stood a delicious, Cedarwood-scented meal.