Hump and the others never arrived in Milton. They parted with the wagon train early on the fourth day, leaving them to the last leg of the journey alone. It had been a difficult decision, but they were confident no attack would come so close to Milton. The wounded woman had recovered a little since they’d picked her up, and told them her name was Carly. Her story was the same as theirs really. She and her companions had come under attack in a night of rain. They’d had soldiers travelling with them, who had tried to fend off the attack, but evidently it had ended poorly.

Carly had not be wounded that night though. The arrow in the leg had come later. The bandits hadn’t just attacked them; they’d taken prisoners. Carly saw a chance to run and took it, but she’d been caught. The evil bastards had shot her and then just left the wound to fester.

That left them with little choice. Even now, the bandits likely held prisoners. For every day they delayed, people would suffer for it. Die for it.

Bud had been a changed person ever since the news. He was beside himself as they rode back the way they’d come, a cold fury burning in him like Hump had never seen. The kobold den had been awful, but this was different. This was humans harming humans in a world that was already so cruel.

The woodland around Milton was highly cultivated, with many coppiced paths and farm plots carved out into the land. They made camp that evening in somebody’s old site, a mound of half burnt firewood already waiting for them. After settling in for the night, Hump and Dylan got to work concocting a poison for Celaine’s arrows. They had the venom of the essence burrow snakes, and along with some of the items they’d picked up in Pete’s shop, and those they’d picked along the way, the had all the ingredients they needed to brew something deadly.

“Do not prick yourself with an arrow laced with this,” Hump said, handing her a jar of it.

Celaine held up the milky substance, letting it flow up and down the edges of the jar like honey in the firelight. “What does it do?”

“It drains the essence from something’s body,” Hump said. “In the beginning, they’ll feel cold. That’s the poison dragging the essence from their body. In high enough dosage, it will drag the lifeforce straight out of them, damaging their soul directly.”

“It’s not a nice way to go,” Dylan said.

They were worried about a second practitioner of some sort being amongst the group. The lightning spearman was well beyond an ordinary bandit, but he didn’t have the skill Hump would expect of someone capable of concealing an entire encampment. And judging from what Carly had said, it was an encampment. At least twenty men that spread their attention around Milton, raiding, pillaging, and stealing from people that were already struggling. If he was to guess, they had to have a fully trained wizard amongst them.

It was the following day when they deviated from the well-used paths, veering deeper into the forest. Celaine led the way confidently, and they set their base camp that night. They were close enough now that she instructed him to cast Hidden Fire to keep them hidden. From here on out, they’d be leaving the horses here and proceeding on foot. Tomorrow, they would be upon the bandits.

Strangely, Hump slept dreamlessly that night. It was the first time since the gorger’s den that his nightmares had relented.

They woke before dawn, the winter sun still low and a crescent moon setting in the distant sky. It was a dark morning, and grey light filled the forest. Outnumbered by so much, they needed more than just the element of surprise. Hump hoped to catch the bandits sleeping, and put Celaine and Dylan’s stealth abilities to full use in the dim light. There would be plenty of fighting for him and Bud afterward.

“We’ll do it like we did Lakewood,” Celaine said. “I’ll lead, searching for scouts, and the three of you hang back a few hundred paces. Dylan, if Bud starts making a racket, make him hang back further.”

The druid nodded.

“Don’t take any risks,” Hump said. “We’ll be there if there’s trouble.”

“I’ll do this quick and quietly,” she said. She scurried off into the woods, soon vanishing from sight, her green and brown garments making her near invisible.

Hump was surprised at how calm they were. Celaine had her abilities as a hunter, and Dylan was just as comfortable in the woods. Bud’s quiet rage still simmered, and it gave him focus. And Hump… he felt good about things too. He had come a long way already as a wizard. He’d stormed kobold dens and a dragon lair. He’d fought monsters from another realm. In the past, he might have been nervous, but now bandits didn’t seem like much of a big deal. Even if they came up against practitioners, this was their job. They’d fought off worse and come out on top.

Splatterings of rain came and went in short bursts as they followed Celaine into the trees. She’d warned them that it would take a couple of hours for them to reach the encampment. They crept forward in the dim morning light, Celaine occasionally popping back to confirm they were on the right path. It wasn’t long before she came back and held up a hand to stop them, pointing toward two sentries slouched against a pair of trees atop a nearby hill.

Celaine drew her bowstring back, one arrow nocked, the other in hand ready to string. She released it with a twang. Her next arrow was on the string while the first was still in the air. She let it loose. The first found its mark through the eye of the furthest of the two sentries. The second man only had time to glance back at the sound before her next arrow found his neck, piercing it clean through the side.

Both dropped to the ground at once, landing with a thud like logs.

The four of them crept closer. The first man was still alive, his eyes moving left and right frantically at the sight of them. He gurgled blood, splattering it over his mouth and chin, but he couldn’t make a sound. Celaine finished him off with Kassius’ long dagger through the eye, easy as if it were game.

And that was two men dead.

Even Hump was uneasy at how easy it had been. He had to remember though, this was a third circle Chosen dealing with simple men. It made him think of the slaughter to come. From the pale faces of Bud and Dylan, they did too.

“Come on,” Celaine said, and the three of them stopped staring. “You’ll all get your turn.”

Dylan went to one knee and took the earth in his hand, chanting a quiet prayer over the men. He crumbled it beneath his fingers.

Hump frowned down at the men as he realised something.

“What is it?” Celaine asked.

“How many bandits do you know of with steal mail and helmets?” He used his staff to turn one of the bandits over. “He’s got a decent sword too, and a bow and arrows. These men are supposed to be starving.”

“They’ve ambushed a few soldiers, maybe they stole their equipment,” Dylan said.

“Maybe,” Hump said. “Either way, we should be ready for a fight. Well-equipped bandits, a spear wielding practitioner, and possibly a wizard is more than a little odd.”

“Should we turn back?” Celaine asked. “We could ask the village for reinforcements.”

“No,” Bud said quickly. “We can’t. There isn’t time and inviting town guards to fight with us will only get them killed. It’s better we handle this ourselves.”

Better for the guards, Hump thought. Not so great for us.

But then he thought of how Celaine had killed two men in seconds. “We can handle this,” he said. “Or at least, we can escape if things go south. Between Dylan and I we can turn this forest into a hellscape. They won’t chase us through here.”

“No argument here,” Dylan said. “I’m not going to leave people to suffer here. Not without trying.”

They continued on, Celaine sticking closer to them now, remaining in sight at all times. Soon they heard running water, and she led them up a hill where they sheltered behind a small ridge. Below, a stream made a protective half-circle around a flat area of land that Hump suspected housed the bandit camp. But it was distorted. The more he stared, the more blurred the trees and water became, as if obscured by mist. From a distance, he might not have noticed, but this close, with Celaine pointing it out to them, it was impossible to miss.

They’d found the camp, and now it was Hump’s turn. “Veils like this are usually maintained through a circle of runes. If we scuff up one, the whole thing will fall apart. Alternatively, it will collapse the moment it comes into contact with another person’s essence.”

“I’ll go down,” Dylan said.

Hump shook his head. “Let me.”

He was still to unpractised to do this without a formation, but his skill with Burning Wisps had improved to the point where he could maintain three flames now one’s help. He drew out the runes and channels on the ground beside him, and chanted the spell. One by one, three wisps of flame no bigger than his fist formed at the edges, flickering with bright orange and yellow light.

He commanded them down the slope, splitting them up as they went. The fires started to move, blazing down through the damp foliage, scorching a path along the way. He could feel his connection to them weakening as they became more distant, requiring more essence to maintain. The one in the centre went momentarily invisible, and then the scene before them changed. Suddenly, the flat area below became empty of trees, and an encampment of nine heavy canvas tents appeared. Metal poles as tall as a man littered the camp.

“What in the hells is this?” Bud growled.

Five children slept on the ground outside, huddled together under one blanket like dogs. One was awake and tending the fire. Three men were tied to wooden posts, their hands roped over their heads. They all had wounds, but one worse than the others. His face carved with bloody red lines, his clothes ripped and stained with blood, concealing wounds within.

“Why would they do this to their own people?” Dylan asked. “Even if they were hungry, I… I don’t understand. Torturing, enslaving children—”

A woman’s scream came from one of the tents and Hump gripped his staff tightly.

“Nine tents total,” Celaine said calculative. “Six men awake outside. Four down in the camp.” She pointed to the side of the stream. “Two more in those trees. If Carly’s numbers are accurate, we can expect two or three bandits per tent.”

“Be ready,” Hump said. “I’m going to set them on fire.”

With a thought, Hump directed his wisps closer, positioning next to three tents spread out over the encampment. With any luck, it might make the bandits think they were being attacked from multiple directions. Anything to add to the panic would help them. Celaine moved to the left along the ridge, while Bud and Dylan snuck closer, creeping quietly down the hill toward the encampment.

When they were in position, Hump let a little of his rage slip into his thoughts. He reached out to his burning wisps and filled them with his desire to burn. The orange glow turned scorching red and the glames sprouted suddenly, setting alight the tents. Women screamed. The children huddled together. The three bound men looked up, their grim faces suddenly alert. And a moment later, bandits fled their tents, all but a few half-dressed and missing their armour.

Easy pickings.

With an effort of will, his wisps flew at them like homing arrows, flying for their chests. They splashed over three different men, coating them in fire. The desperate screams of the bandits filled the encampment. Such shrill and painful shrieks that Hump should have felt something. Some remorse. Some sort of care. But he felt nothing. He watched them burn, and he thought they deserved it.

Their screams were still going when Celaine rained arrows into the camp. At fifty paces, those without her blessings likely wouldn’t kill, but they’d damn well hurt. Screams rose around the camp as the men were filled with arrows. Dylan and Bud charged down the slope, roaring at them. Hump followed close behind, imagining the horror of the still half sleeping men as a giant of a knight and a druid charged down the slope at them, all the while their friends around them were dropping to the ground, crying madly.

From the largest of the encampment tents, the spearman they’d fought before came out carrying his weapon. A woman with dark brown hair emerged beside him carrying a staff in her hand with an ocean-blue heartstone, and wearing simple robes. The second wizard—he’d been right.

She was greeted with an arrow to the gut. The spearman looked at her, his wide eyes quickly turning to rage. The woman though just stared impassively, as if she felt no pain.

The spearman slammed his spear against the ground and thunder cracked. He flashed brightly, and Hump suddenly realised what the metal poles around camp were for. A bolt of lightning sped to the left, and the man appeared beside one of the children. He grabbed the young boy by the scuff of his neck.

“Stop what you’re doing, Chosen!” he roared, bringing his spear point to the boy’s throat. “You made a mistake coming here.”

Hump’s eyes went back to the woman as he suddenly sensed essence. She was staring at the arrow in her gut, but she hadn’t fallen. She’d barely even moved. A red glimmer filled her eyes and her mouth contorted strangely.

Fangs extended from within. Her skin shrunk against her face, her face becoming gaunt, her brow furrowing and nose growing to vaguely resemble a snout. She pulled the arrow loose with a grunt and tossed it to the ground, then turned her eyes on him.

Warlock. He knew it in an instant. And this one was so far gone she’d lost all the humanity she had. Now only the monster remained.