I approached the area of the slums where the Hatchet Crew's guild hall was located still fuming with anger. After my failure to kill Yaavtey at his home, my mind was coming up with new backup plans to ensure that the follow-up attempt wouldn't end the same way. What if he's not in the guild hall? A part of my mind asked another, prompting my thoughts to split off in many directions and then grow incoherent and unreadable. If he's not in the building, I'll find information on where he is after attacking the building, I concluded, there're only so many places he could be. Slowing to a walk, I positioned myself across the street from my target building and observed it as subtly as possible.

As it was before, the guild hall of the Hatchet Crew was a fortress. One of the few buildings in the area to be made entirely of stone, it had no windows on the first floor and those on the second had metal bars across them to prevent intrusion. A chimney did extend from the top of the stone block building, but smoke was rising from it indicating that it was in use, and thus useless to me. Two halberdier guards with belt lanterns stood at either side of the iron-reinforced entrance door, and my eyes searched around for the other plainclothes guards that I knew should be present.

Where are they? I wondered after a minute of looking and seeing not a single extra guard in plain clothes. It seemed that the only two people guarding the entrance to the building were the halberdiers, but I had trouble believing that I had gotten so lucky. Were the couple of people who passed by me on the way here the missing guards? I considered. I checked the inside of the vaporizer, seeing that I still had a fair amount of powder mixed in with the residual ashes, and began to posit a few approach strategies in my mind. I can't get on top of the guild hall from here, and even if I could, I doubt I could drill a hole, I thought. I'll have to figure out a way to go in the front door, or somehow reach one of the windows. No, the windows are a no-go, I should try the front first, I might get lucky.

The streets were bare, so the guards saw me as I approached and took up a relaxed defensive posture. Because of my hood and mask, they couldn't see my face, but for some reason neither of those two pieces of clothing made them anxious. They are criminals, I supposed, maybe this is normal for them. I stopped three steps away, holding the vaporizer, sans-spout, in my right hand.

“What's your business?” the guard on the left asked me.

“I need to see Yaavtey,” I replied. That set them on edge, and both guards stiffened immediately.

“Take the mask off,” the right guard commanded. I did consider it for an instant, but the potential of being recognized was too high. Instead, I swung the vaporizer in a wide arc, spewing ash and poison particles into the air towards the two guards. Both were hit in the face before they could react, broke into a coughing fit, then collapsed in seconds as the blue leaf entered the mucus membranes in their eyes, noses, and mouths. My own hands numbed and stung from the contact that they made with the poison, but a quick wipe on my pants eliminated the bulk of the pain quickly. I took out a utility knife from my new set and stabbed it into the left guard's brainstem, then repeated it with the right when the left had died. The whole encounter was extremely quiet, and it didn't seem like what little noise I made had alerted anyone inside.

The entrance to the guild hall exuded a strange feeling when I looked at it. Inside I could picture the rowdy groups of humans I had seen before, and I knew that I had no hope of fighting them all. Maybe I could just- I stopped the thought before it got anywhere. There was no way I would be able to go inside and not trigger a rush of violence towards myself within seconds. I could fight a few non-magic users, but considering Yaavtey's skill it wasn't unlikely that others inside the building might be capable of similar feats. Whatever I was going to do, I had to account for those facts. Frustration bubbled up in me again, and I kicked the guard's body to the right of me, then noticed something sticking out of one of his pockets.

This is too lucky to be true, I thought as I examined the bottle in my hands, if I wasn't holding this right now, I wouldn't believe it. A bottle of lantern oil, about a third of a liter in volume, sat two-thirds full in my hand. It made sense that the guards would have oil on their persons since they had lanterns on their belts, but the fact hadn't even occurred to me. I quickly searched the second guard's body and found another bottle, one-third full, and knew what I had to do. Uncorking both bottles, I made them contain equal amounts of oil then took out my remaining satchel of poison. Even if it doesn't dissolve, this should be enough, I thought, what did creator humans call this kind of firebomb again? Right, a Molotov Cocktail.

The oil turned a sickly blue after the poison was mixed into it, and I corked the bottles just in case they were giving off any fumes. Using my utility knife I scored the edges of the bottles, deliberately introducing weak points into the murky glass so that it would shatter on impact. I tore some strips from the dead guards' uniforms, then tied fabric around the necks of the bottles to use as fuses. A check with magic confirmed that the material was flammable enough to ignite, fulfilling the last requirement of my new plan. As far as I know, there's only one exit, and I'm standing right in front of it, I thought. I yanked the door in front of me open, threw both cocktails inside, then slammed it shut just as I heard them shatter.

Barely a second later fire began roaring inside, then the first screams started. Shit, I need to block this door, I panicked, looking around for something to use. The halberds laying beside the guards stuck out to me, so I took them and inserted both between the handles of the doors to bar them from opening. Just as soon as I had done so, a large weight smashed into the door, bending but not breaking the metal shafts of the weapons. The yelling got louder and the banging became more fierce, then the screaming intensified as smoke began to billow out from the doorframe. The interior was mostly wood too, I thought, the whole building will probably go up if the floorboards ignite.

I stepped back into the street and watched as the events I had set into motion played out. Dozens of voices were now wailing, and the sounds of fighting soon followed. On the second floor I could see arms being pushed between the window bars, grasping and pulling at nothing as their owners tried in vain to fit through holes designed to be too small for them. More impacts struck the door and threatened to knock it from its hinges. However, none were strong enough to dislodge the halberds, and they soon stopped entirely. Half a minute after the humans stopped trying to break out of the door, the screams also started to die down. A smile reached my lips and I knew my plan was working.

In one of the windows, I watched a human attempt to use a crowbar of some kind to dislodge the bars and escape. Just as he began to make progress, an object from out of my view clubbed him in the head and he vanished. A different human then took up the crowbar and began prying at the window. Chips of stone started falling from the walls, but before the second human could finish a blade burst from his chest and the first human took back his tool. Similar scenes played out in two other locations: panicking criminals slaughtering each other in some fear-crazed bid to escape before the others while toxic smoke rose around them and flowed out into the night sky.

A few other humans had emerged into the street from nearby buildings, standing by and watching the events from a safe distance. Going against my expectations, not even one of the humans observing tried to call for help of any kind. Looking pale and skinny, their gaunt eyes observed the makeshift crematorium I had created just as dispassionately as my own, perhaps even more so. A roar from the building drew my attention back to it, and an impact shook the outer wall of the second floor but did not break it. Clouds of dust fell from weakening mortar and even a few stones came loose. There's no way that could have been a person, I thought, that impact was like a small bomb.

Another roar of rage, longer than before, sounded from the building's first floor. Screams of pain followed, then a titanic impact struck the entrance door and punched out a piece of the wood, creating a small hole. A man's arm reached out of the building, surrounded by flames, and grabbed down for the halberds before withdrawing into the building again. I stood in place for a moment, stunned at the sight, wondering if I was hallucinating. A second, even more powerful strike then blew a rough hole around a meter in diameter through the right door. From inside the inferno, a man forced himself through the new opening and fell out into the street.

The humans who had joined me in watching the fire scattered in fear as Yaavtey stood up to full height and took a breath of fresh air. His orange hair was burnt and blackened, his clothes were in tatters, and parts of his skin had been melted. Black-blue smears of poison and ash covered his arms, making them appear bruised. Wild eyes blinked unevenly and searched, then locked onto me. Finally, I snapped from my stupor and jumped backwards, drawing my spear and taking aim. I threw the weapon, aiming for Yaavtey's chest, but it was sent clattering to the ground with little more than a backhanded slap.

“You,” Yaavtey growled, his voice hoarse from breathing in smoke, “I'm going to make you wish I was kind enough to just kill you.” He must have breathed in the poison at least a bit, I thought, this is a bluff. I watched carefully as Yaavtey began walking further away from the door, analyzing his stride. He's off balance, I observed, he's definitely poisoned, but he must have recognized the effects and held his breath. Considering that the building had been on fire for over five minutes, I had no idea how Yaavtey was even conscious. “Take off the mask,” Yaavtey commanded.

I was already planning to remove the mask since it impeded my peripheral vision, but I hesitated since Yaavtey had instructed me to do it. Still, I removed the leather and glass mask with my left hand, dropped it onto the ground, then drew my sword with my right. Yaavtey's already fury-filled expression tightened even further when he saw my face. There was silence in the street when our eyes met, except for the roaring fire.

“To think you survived,” Yaavtey seethed. “You couldn't have just taken your good fortune and ran, could you? Instead, you use a coward's tricks to attack me, like a rat that bites at a man's hand instead of running away. Tell me, did you really believe your little plan would work?” I paused, wondering why Yaavtey was speaking to me instead of attacking.

“I already attacked your home and killed everyone there, including your body double,” I replied, delaying so I could look around and get a better view of the area. Seven meters apart, I noted, mostly flat ground, no noncombatants within the expected combat area, but also no useful terrain features. Might be able to throw dirt to blind him, if he can't block it with force magic. Yaavtey's expression shifted slowly as he processed my words, forming doubt, then scorn, then disgust. He bared his teeth at me, curling his upper lip back and wrinkling his nose as he scowled.

“You lie,” he growled. “A coward even when using words. Not a shred of honor in your entire body. You are nothing but sickening trash, lower and filthier than the street you stand on.” I felt my body's rage building at his words, as though the blood in my veins was heating up, but I was ready. Controlling my breathing and clamping down on myself mentally, I forced the anger away. He's just a human, I said to myself, a dangerous human who I cannot afford to be angry when fighting with, but a human nonetheless. Looking at Yaavtey, I could see him doing much the same thing as I was to control himself. But I'm not an opponent who he can afford to take lightly either, not when he's been poisoned, I thought, If I can attack him mentally, I can tilt the balance in my favor.

“Nothing about combat has anything to do with honor,” I quoted in rebuttal, recalling the words of a warbreed commander I had once killed. “Honor is just a word that the fearful use to keep their betters from overthrowing them. Combat is simple, effective destruction of life. I have destroyed your wife, your child, and the man you had placed beside her in your bed to deceive me. And now, I will do the same to you.” Yaavtey's jaw loosened, almost going slack, then his face loosened as well. A look of pure shock and disbelief formed on his face, and I recognized his eye movements as he searched me for signs of deception. Get angry at the loss of your progeny, I willed, lose your composure. The less clearly you can think, the better chance I have. You can't have much energy left to fight with.

“Where did you get those?” Yaavtey asked, his voice quavering slightly. I traced his eyes to the utility knives I had taken from his son and saw an angle of psychological attack. One more exchange, then I attack, I decided, if I wait too long, he might recover from the poison.

“Your son's knives were very well maintained,” I commented, flipping one of the knives in question over in my left hand. “It's a shame he died in his sleep and never got a chance to use them.” I slipped the knife back into its holster, then watched as Yaavtey began to lose control of himself. “Perhaps if you hadn't been hiding in this guild hall like a coward, you might have saved him,” I finished, then I twisted my expression into a mirror of the one Yaavtey had made back when he stabbed me in the alley. Who is the weak one now? I thought, Certainly not me.

Yaavtey's whole body began to vibrate, and the veins on his exposed skin inflated to such a ridiculous degree that it appeared like they were ready to burst. His facial muscles contorted so extremely that his face barely registered as human to my eyes. A noise came from him, quietly at first but then increasing to such a volume that it felt like a man was yelling into both of my ears at once. His screams, screams of rage and pain and anguish, echoed and reverberated through the street, then the ground beneath him exploded and he was upon me in an instant.