The pair squared off as Nix turned. Briefly, it eyed the mist, but ultimately decided it wasn’t a threat.

An arrow from the wall sounded the start of the battle. It flew through the air with magical involvement, poison or some kind of toxic, but it never hit its target. Nix had long stepped forward, covering dozens of paces in the span of a single step.

Max and Emi teleported together, both splitting their focus to Nix and creating more mist. A pair of water balloons were created, each filled with compressed fog, and fired at the sword bearer. They were easily sliced in two, allowing the mist to burst open like an eviscerated soda can.

A game of cat and mouse followed. Nix would quickstep forward and Max would teleport away. It seemed that the puppet did not have a way to bridge the gap, teleportation being a melee user’s bane. That was, until the [Assassin]’s second class came into play.

[Assassins] were often called mage killers for a few reasons. First and foremost, most mages could survive attacks if given enough time to prepare. Attacking from the shadows easily eliminated such antics. Secondly was the killer’s speed. Spells took time to craft and use, in that time death was very possible. Lastly, some classes could specialize in killing the manatouched.

Nix’s host body was one such person.

In a radius around the leather wearer, all mana costs were increased. Meaning that the classes that didn’t use mana were on equal footing. Everyone else…

Max and Emi were already feeling the effects. They knew something was wrong. That something had to change, and fast. The mist had to stay, that was their whole game plan. Teleporting was mana intensive, healing magic was in the same vein, but less so.

Gritting his teeth, Max auto equipped his mana regeneration robes and set his feet. A sword and buckler shield sprouted from his hand and artificial arm in a cascading ice and water loop. He knew he was going to be cut and beat, but this was better than the alternative.

As Nix turned to Max’s newest location, a thought resurfaced. Did he have to fight like this? Sure, the Lost Lord could easily take Emi and run. They could easily teleport into the sky and bombard attacks from the air. They could even teleport to Lesterwood, grab Vel, Bishop, and whoever else was willing to fight, and return with reinforcements.

But both Max and Emi knew all of those plans would result in one outcome they couldn’t live with. The city of Zulin would suffer. Suffer because they were weak. Because they couldn’t kill Nix here and now.

The Doppelganger appeared in a blast of kicked up dirt, swiping down with its sword in a powerful underhand upswing. Max fumbled his reaction, barely able to get his shield up in time. The two forces met, breaking the Lost Lord’s posture and leaving him open for riposte.

Emi unleashed a barrage of preemptive attack from Max’s shoulder. Ice pummeled into the [Assassin]’s armor, giving her partner enough time to back step a deadly thrust.

He pushed the overextension, clobbered the metal sword away and lunged himself. The ice blade cut into Nix’s hip and froze the resultant blood. Max continued forward with a shoulder bash while Emi fired off another mist bomb.

The three combatants looked at each other for a moment, Nix still muttering with a crazed smile.

“It’s coming! It’s coming! Almost here! Blood, gut, flesh! No more hunger… hunger is the worst… The Beast, it thrives in the reflection…”

At this point, the battle field was swarming with whisps of white mist. It raised past Max and Nix’s chests, the occasional blinding the staring contest the two were locked in. Soon, it would be in Max’s favor, but for the moment they were still tied in melee combat.

Nix’s smile twisted into a frown as it stepped into battle once again. The sword glinted as it reached its peak, it was as thin as a twig but carried the power of a falling trunk. It collided with the water shield, easily slicing into and dispersing the magical construct. It continued down, cutting into Max’s arm of water.

Workman’s Right Hand was not a spell Max thought about very often. In fact, since achieving the spell’s sentience, the artificial appendage had simply grown to be a part of him. He used it every day, every hour, every minute. It, for all intents and purposes, was his arm.

So as Nix’s sword lacerated deep into his watery flesh, he felt pain. At first he felt a deep cold, then a vigorous stinging, then roaring anguish. In that moment, Max relived his and Bishop’s battle with Buzluc. He felt his arm be sliced off again. He felt the hopeless despair and the endless void of blood loss.

At least, until Emi screamed at him to move. And he did. He teleported – just in time as well. Nix stabbed forward with his off hand, revealing a hidden dagger. The puppet pushed forward, stepping with immense speed.

Max crouched to his side, falling into the mist and disappearing momentarily. He breathed heavily, mind still reeling from past trauma. He steeled himself, pushing down the rough emotions with Emi’s help.

In truth the Lost Lord didn’t need his arm in a fight. The spell gave him a certain level of comfortability, but in the end he was a mage. He didn’t need limbs as long as he could focus on raw spell manipulation.

He kept low, creating distance from Emi while staying hidden within the white clouds. They wrapped around the muttering and stationary Nix, circling spells for deadly use.

A hail of arrows and spells reigned from the wall on the isolated enemy – its head still slightly visible above the mist. Nix didn’t move, just allowed every attack to land. It was blown away, pierced with sharp metal, twisted, and bruised, but it never once stopped muttering.

“Whispers… Beast coming! Nearly time! Whispers, why can I hear! I sense nothing near, but I hear the dead call.”

Max finally realized what the murderer was talking about, Its hearing the Curse of the Abyss! I’ll continue to pepper it down. You focus on creating a perfect Ice Lance. When you are ready, I’ll bolster it with aura.

Emi replied with a mental nod and set the plan into action. She drew water into a spike and froze it, envisioning the most beautiful, detailed weapon she could.

Max set his sights on quick, low damage, low mana, spells. After fighting the [knight] who alerted him of Lullin to begin with, he realized a few crucial details about the Curse of the Abyss.

The most optimal way of breaking the threshold for the curse was to simply bombard the target. Every speck of damage counted towards the affliction – deadly easy to miss attacks were simply not the correct course of action.

Water Bolts and Ice Bolts the size of a baseball fired out one after another. The mana cost was relatively low, but Max still kept an eye on his decreasing mana pool. Everything cost more than he wanted, but now was not the time to lowball.

The bombard of hail and water crashed into Nix with the force of a truck. Along with the spells and arrows originating from the wall, the Doppelganger made no effort to guard. It simply let the meat puppet take the brunt of the devastation.

Its inactive strategy would have been a showcase for the power of its namesake, but the curse didn’t care much for the dead host it wore. Nix could wear the perfect body, a complete counter to the forces it fought. But if it itself couldn’t rely on its on senses, it was a sitting duck.

The only course of action for it was to change bodies into something else, something that wasn’t affected by typical curses. Something that could cancel all effects the true body held. Something ancient and powerful, something monstrous, something, anything, before the Beast arrived.

Handing over a dying body to the Beast was not something it wanted to do.

So, it changed. Nix slipped out of his fleshy armor, making use of the mist to stay hidden. It wrangled its ring, searching its content for the perfect item.

Max noticed something was wrong immediately. He traced Nix’s outline with his Spatial Awareness, searching the battlefield for movement. The good thing about fighting virtually solo with Emi was that he always knew who was who. Recognizing Emi was easy. Recognizing the woman he had been fighting was child’s play.

But when a shape suddenly appeared originating from the enemy, Max’s Racial Trait went crazy.

He yelled to Emi through their bond and both set their sights on the awkward mass. Both instantly knew what to do – attack and steal.

The little monster instantly threw her Ice Lance, forgetting her goal of creating the most powerful attack. She held her manipulation on it for as long as possible. Aftershocks of spells were crashing nearby and she could not afford the spell to fall off course.

With his eyes closed, Max looked through Nix’s tentacle arms. He searched for a small ring of metal, catching his senses on a small indiscriminate loop. Whether or not it was the inventory ring, he had no idea, but this was his only chance.

Space flexed and conformed to the Lost Lord’s will. It encased the loop, sliding beneath the slick appendages of the owner. Once the spell connected, Max flooded it with mana and let the System take over.

A solid black, impossibly black even, ring appeared just before Max’s face. His eyes snapped open and he caught the magical item. It instantly fell into his own inventory where he was sure it would never fall into enemy hands again.

An animalistic screech sounded from the mass of flesh that was the Doppelganger. Max felt out again, finding a large spike of ice embedded through its chest. A mortal wound, one that he would celebrate with his bond.

He started to create a spike of his own, fueling it with the remainder of his mana. At least he tried.

A chill went over the battlefield, petrifying all movement. The guards and mages on the wall went stiff, Max and Emi following suit.

Nix giggled uncontrollably as the whispers finally faded. In its slimy arms, the mass murderer clutched a saving grace – a singular scale.

Soon scales of similar size, shape, and color started sprouting along its body. It started at the head, creating a long snout and flared nostrils. They spun, twisting down its spine and forming a thick, lengthy tail. Bones jutted through gaps, creating spikes reminiscent of the Basilisk Legendary Beast.

Nix’s chest soon was protected by a deep cavity of organs and ribs. Four legs developed, equip with five meaty claws. As teeth fully extended, a flume of green smoke boiled over and bled into the white mist below.

Nix now stood strong as a bull, as long as a whale, and taller than a giraffe. It roared, shaking the nearby trees and causing a rumble up the stone wall.

As the Dragon puppet finished forming, the stunning ability of the Doppelganger wore off… but no one moved. Everyone just… watched. Some prayed, but most just… watched.

Dragons were rare. To the point that most lived there entire lives without seeing a single one. At the same time, Dragons could transform into humanoids, meaning they could easily hide their lineage. One might even pass a Dragon by on the streets and not realize something was amiss.

Seeing a Dragon’s true form was even rarer. It wasn’t often that resorting to a primal state was the correct course of action. Only when their lives were truly on the line would they shift back. The outcome always caused backlash, however.

But Nix was a Doppelganger, meaning he could only assume the body of a Dragon. It didn’t have to deal with the political and social fallouts from transforming.

It also meant Nix could destroy a city.

Max reacted before Emi, the little monster in awe of something that was a part of her. He yelled at her through their bond while downing as many mana potions as he could. Shocking his body with this potions would cost him a bad stomach ache later, but now wasn’t the time to worry.

As his mana slowly came back, he started piecing together the components for his most powerful attack. The set-up would take several minutes, as well as creating only a single projectile. But Nix’s new size gave the Lost Lord the confidence not to miss. After all, he had already killed a bear with the same tactic.

Max spared the mana for two teleports. The first to grab Emi, the second to arrive next to the guard captain of Zulin.

The haggard man looked worse than humanly possible. Thick bags and a slouched back alluded to the wound on the captain’s thigh. A rushed heal-job of potions and maybe a Healer blessing or two. He’d live, but he should be lying down. It was a showing of the man’s conviction to stay with his men.

Max’s arrival spooked the man, a few drew weapons but most were still eyeing the Dragon feeling its body. Nix stretched and growled, coughing up green smoke as it figured out all the intricacies with its newfound puppet.

“I need you to buy us time.” Max said calmly but with enough urgency for the captain to forget their previous harsh meetings, “We kill this body and Nix will have none left. I was able to get its inventory ring.”

The captain stared blankly for a moment before looking at the Dragon then to Max. He turned, wincing at the pain, and yelled, “HARPOONS! NOW!”

Water rode up the captains leg, healing his wound before twisting through the air into a spike. Emi focused on her spell, creating an Ice Lance fit for killing a Dragon. It needed to be thick as a log, as pointed as a rapier, and as hard as a diamond.

Meanwhile, Max sat with his eyes closed. He dribbled at two points in space behind him in a safe spot but high in the air. An acceleration gate began to form, longer than he had ever previously created, and with enough overlap that it could stand multiple uses.

“FIRE!” The captain shouted.

Eight cannons fired simultaneously, each equipped with a thick chain and heavy harpoon. The town of Zulin was normally a safe destination, but more than once had they encountered a large threat. City defenses would always be an important budget.

The harpoons whistled through the air, each hitting the ignorant Dragon.

“PULL!” The captain commanded. A group grunt sounded as dozens of [Warriors] still in peak condition, hauled against the heavyset chains. Thousands of Strength stat points acted in unison, towing the enemy.

“NOW!” The command echoed through the battlefield, causing a few specialized mages to respond. Each dumped their mana pools into a single spell – Constraint’s Twin.

Eight ethereal chains and harpoons identical to their real counterparts formed and tightened into Nix’s other flank. The chains stretched, mimicking the work the [Warriors] were creating. As one chain loosened or tighten, its magical counterpart did as well.

“We’ve got it! But I’m not sure how long our-“ The captain cut himself off as he realized Max and Emi were gone.

High above, the duo sat on an Immoveable Platform. They both worked tirelessly, crafting and creating spells. Two linked portals were now open and lined vertically together. The acceleration gate was ready and waiting. A single Ice Lance, larger than any one spell the pair had ever created before, floated slowly through the air.

It reached the end of its flight and fell – both Max and Emi releasing their control. It entered and exited the gate, gaining a boost of speed before entering the bottom portal and exiting through the top and entering the gate again. Over and over again the lance fell continuously, only ever needing slight course corrections as to not fall out of the loop.

Below, Nix thrashed and roared, green fire having long burned away the white mist. Its tail thrashed about, crashing into and destroying chunks of the wall.

Guards screamed in pain, some taking their last breath. [Archers] let loose with arrows, as did the mages. Melee combatants used magically crafted long range items, blasting rockets or charges of explosive mana at the threat.

But Max didn’t care about any of that, instead he focused on the acceleration gate. He counted the number of times the lance fell through and inspected the wear and tear on the magical construct. Each passthrough was quicker than the last and each caused the gate to shake and feign destruction.

He pushed a single drop of Divine aura towards the construct. It entered the ice just as before, and quickly reformed around the outer point. The aura solidified

Now.

The upper portal moved, reforming above Nix’s monstrous figure. The Ice Lance teleported along with the portal, rocketing down with a resounding boom.

It penetrated through the Dragon’s back and spine, bypassing its scales and spikes with utter ease. It continued through the guts and out the ribs and the relatively soft belly. Finally it embedded into the frosty ground below, where it came to a final rest.

Again the world went silent, until Nix roared. Green flames light up the night sky and empty air, giving the battlefield a sickly view. It thrashed around, each movement driving the spike to create a larger hole. But Nix didn’t know better. It couldn’t know better. It has never faced a mortal wound. Its puppets have, but never the Doppelganger itself.

A single deadly cry sounded as the Dragon host died. A grey-transparent fleshy blob slithered through the mortal wound, rushing off while clutching its own bleeding body. It rushed towards the forest, content with running.

Nix kept its head down, fear striking its grotesque mind. It ran and kept running, something its legs hadn’t done in centuries. Branches and sticks were needles and thorns, each cutting deep into its flesh as it passed over them. Without its hosts, without its ring, it was helpless. It was nothing more than an octopus out of water.

Its moment was suddenly halted as it crashed into a tree. Briefly Nix looked behind him. It needed to know if it was being hunted or if it created enough distance. The Beast would need blood to heal these wounds, the Beast was going to be angry.

Nix twisted, looking back to the wall… No, that can’t be. That’s impossible. It was running for so long. How, how could the wall be the same distance away? How could all of that running equate to nothing. The Beast needed to arrive soon, otherwise Nix knew it would die.

It twisted back around, finding the object it slammed into. At first it thought it was a tree, but trees don’t split into two. They don’t wear boots and pants. They don’t breathe and pump blood. They don’t house a little monster on their shoulders.

“Running, huh?” The tree asked, its voice sounding surprisingly like a certain Lost Lord.

Nix slowly raised his pale yellow, nearly blind eyes up. He stared at the pair who brought upon the end. He stared at the pair who brought upon the Beast. It shook, knowing its fate was sealed. Either Max killed Nix, or the Beast killed Nix. Either way, Nix, the Vast Empire member was dying today.

A voice called inside of Nix’s mind, the harbinger voice that meant the end. That meant the Beast was going to take over. That meant the body would live. Through Nix’s centuries of life, it never once made the Beast angry. But it knew of those before it that did. They died horrible, painful deaths.

For that was the life of a Doppelganger. Always a puppet for the original. Always a host for the Ancient One. Always having to provide for the Beast. Always needing offerings.

Nix smiled ruefully. It was the end for not just its own life, but for every living thing from here to Lullin.

One last time, the voice called. It allowed Nix enough time to smile. A sharp, pointy smile. One full of hatred, the kind only its God could quench. Max Fowler, the Lost Lord. A thorn in Ikzag’s side and the boy who escaped the Blood [Queen].

Forever should its Lord know what sacrifices Nix made for the Divine Purpose. Ikzag will surely show lenience in its the next life.

The voice was close, the switch was in progress-

A block of ice, lined with Divine aura, fell from above the trees, splattering Nix’s true body across the battlefield like crushing a grape with a bottlecap.

As a notification appeared in Max and Emi’s periphery, a distant voice, one of a thousand vocals and infinite change, quietly faded, never having reached its destination.

Congratulations, you have killed a level 188 Doppelganger (Host: Nix)!

You have gained 43,851 experience!

Congratulations, you are now level 54!

You have gained 5 stat points.

Congratulations, you are now level 55!

You have gained 5 stat points.

Congratulations, you are now level 56!

You have gained 5 stat points.

Congratulations, you are now level 57!

You have gained 5 stat points.

Congratulations, you are now level 58!

You have gained 5 stat points.

Congratulations, you are now level 59!

You have gained 5 stat points.

Max and Emi read over the notification, allowing the golden light of multiple level-ups to ease their unending fatigue. They both had more notifications to go through, but for right now, they both only wanted to rest.

It’s not every day they killed a primary member of Vast Empire.

Nearby Dugal Fenton watched the battle unfold and abruptly end. He had been in contact with his Lady, even going so far as to give her a play-by-play of the action. Her orders were simple, do not interfere. Nix lives or dies.

It was a shame, but Nix got itself into this situation. While the Doppelganger wasn’t the most reliable member of Vast Empire, it always stood as a beacon of power, a beacon people could recognize and fear. Nix the Invisible Assassin, Nix the Plague of Man, Nix the Changeling.

“He killed it, my Lady.” Dugal whispered into the shifting mirror of sand.

“And the Beast?” Cresthill echoed back, her annoyance never bridging the gap of minor inconvenience.

Dugal knew however, that Nix’s death would change something with Cresthill. She had always favored the monster, even going so far to stay its execution simply because it was useful. She had tortured it for failing to come back to her at a timely manner, which caused this whole escapade of death and murder.

Nix needed to refuel. It needed to feed the Beast before it came back and killed indiscriminately.

“I could hear the voice, but the Lost Lord ended Nix before the Beast arrived.”

The sand mirror shifted along with Cresthill’s own movements, “That’s good at least. The last thing Ikzag needs right now is another Divine Purging. Only the Heavens know the other Gods would blame Ikzag for the Beast getting loose.”

“Of course, my Lady. What shall I do now?” Dugal asked, mentally exhausted. For once he wasn’t subject to his master’s ire. He might just live through this at this rate.

“Retrieve the bell and Nix’s ring. Then return to the castle.”

Dugal frowned. He understood the importance of both those items but didn’t know how he would go about doing that. Well, he knew how he would get them, but he didn’t know where they were.

The Dark Elf looked over the battlefield for the Lost Lord and unique monster. Either one would do for his plans, but neither were found. Only guards and the odd adventurer ventured out of the gates of Zulin, some were even poking the Dragon husk.

Dugal scanned his eyes over the block of ice that killed Nix. It was melted and only the fleshy grey-transparent skin laid pancaked into the ground. There was no Doppelganger Bell, no inventory ring, no Lost Lord, or bonded monster.

With a regretful sigh, Dugal spoke to his Lady, “I will have to track the boy. He’s already gone, I assume with the bell and ring.”

Before the sands of the mirror fell, Cresthill spoke three words. Three words seething with annoyance, “Make it happen.”