4.

  “Are you planning on killing me?” Naomi asked as the two of them walked down the street. Santi was holding onto the map his scouts had made for him, locating the first of the dens. He looked over at the older woman who was staring at him with calm eyes. Her sword was still sheathed and the distance was enough that he could get away before she drew and struck at him. Not a threat then, but a genuine question.

  “I was thinking about it,” Santi answered honestly. Naomi was not a woman who’d be easy to lie to and he just didn’t see the point.

  “Good idea. Separate me from my power base, have the excuse of dangerous clearing. Hell, you could even wear me down by having me tank these dens and just stab me in the back. Easy kill on one of your enemies,” Naomi said. She still didn’t reach for the pommel of her sword.

  “Something like that. You’re not worried about it?”

  “You stabbing me in the back? No. Because regardless of what you think of yourself, you're a decent man. Duncan was a black hearted bastard. You didn’t stab him in the back. You waited for him to take his shot and then you stabbed him in the gut and chest and stared him in the eyes as he bled out. And you hated him. You hardly know me.”

  “I wanted to watch his life leave his eyes. It was one of the most satisfying things I’ve ever done.”

  “Do you really believe that? That killing man, no matter how vile, is the most satisfying thing you’ve ever done?” Naomi asked, tone unbelieving.

  “It felt like it at the time,” Santi said with a one shoulder shrug.

  “At the time. Now?’ Naomi asked. They kept going down the street, burnt out buildings lining the street. A bird the size of a mid-size sedan beat its brown wings far above them. Santi watched it for a moment to make sure it didn’t swoop down on them.

  The bird flapped its wings and disappeared as they continued to walk down the street. They were only a few blocks away from a suspected den.

  “It was something that needed to get done. I got it done,” Santi said. The last few weeks had seen him wrangle the emotions of the deed. Duncan hadn’t killed his dad. His actions had led directly to his father’s death, but Duncan hadn’t done it. The anger he had been feeling toward the assassin was misplaced. Duncan was a terrible person, whose hands were drenched in blood. His death was earned.

  “I killed one of your Champions once. Walter…something another, he was like that for me. He had killed several of my proteges in Washington. Wrecked a campaign or three. Nearly killed me twice. He burned down camps who supported us, killed innocent civilians by the dozens. I hated him. When I killed him, I felt good. Seeing him at my feet, humbled and broken.” She rolled her neck and flexed her fingers, lost in thought.

  “It didn’t bring them back. All my dead friends. All the people who had helped us. All it did was help me for a few minutes where I felt good. Then it went away and I was standing in the ruins of a city, I didn’t even know the name of it, with three hundred dead men.” Naomi shook her head.

  “I digress. Don’t let your emotions cloud your judgement. If you need to kill someone, do it because it needs to be done. Not because you want to do it or think it will assuage some of that rage in yourself.”

  “Be cold. Like Duncan was?” Santi countered.

  “Duncan wasn’t cold. He liked to pretend he was, but he wasn’t. There was a fire in him from bowing his head and worshipping our patron. Killing was something he was good at and enjoyed. I don’t think he was a psychopath or sociopath or whatever the terminology is. He was a fanatic who’s skillset was murder.”

  This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.

  “Shelve this talk, we’re here,” Santi said. He tucked the map into his pocket and looked over at the immaculate building surrounded by broken ruins. It was a solid concrete building that looked out of place, iron bars covered the windows and the front door was a pair of red wooden doors studded with steel.

  “Any idea what’s in there?’ Naomi asked, finally drawing her sword with a rasp of steel on leather.

  “They said some type of dwarf creature. Not like Grimvr though,” Santi said, quoting the scouting report from memory.

  “That’s the best they could give you?” Naomi asked, incredulous.

  “My best scouts are back home. We work with what we have, not what we want.”

  “Short, dwarven creatures. Not like dwarves though. They like building obviously, so there’s some level of intelligence. I don’t feel any magic on it, you?” Naomi asked.

  “Nothing, but my mana senses aren’t as sharp as they could be. Been focused on combat skills,” Santi said.

  “Think dark dwarves?” Naomi asked.

  “That makes sense. Well built, fortified home. Dwarven creatures. Yeah dark dwarves.” Santi rolled his neck to release the tension as the morph weapon unspooled into a spear.

  “Finally found an opponent you’re taller than,” Naomi said with a straight face.

  “Oh wow, that’s original,” Santi groused back.

  “You going to knock? Or should I?” Naomi asked.

  “Worried about me stabbing you in the back?” Santi asked.

  “Already told you I’m not. Knock down that door,” Naomi ordered with enough authority that Santi found himself reacting before he thought of it.

  [Gust] and [Air Manipulation] came together into gale like winds that he focused on the relatively small area of the double doors. A howl filled the air and the air slammed into the double doors as if it was a physical thing. The doors blew apart in a shower of splinters and scattered metal.

  Naomi was already running, blade held close to her body. A physical classer of her level and skill she could practically fly. Each push off sent her sailing down the street and she was in the building before Santi had made it halfway there. He wasn’t going all out or using [Windstep] to close the distance.

  Naomi only had a few seconds lead on him before he entered the stone building but the scents of battle were already present. Blood and fire, a burst of heat that suffused the air as Santi took in the sight.

  A pair of corpses lay on the ground, the same size as Grimvr but colorless. Their beards were white and oily, skin parchment white. Even their blood was pale, a pink that was garrish on the polished stone floors. Santi cast [Windblade] around Naomi and watched as another of the dark dwarves died.

  Dark Dwarf lvl. 32

  No specializations, low level, unarmored. The creatures in the front lobby were the equivalent of bouncers. The real heavy hitters would be in the heart of the building or likely underneath it. They were dark dwarves, their homes would be underground. Not on the surface.

  Naomi was a blitz of steel and disciplined fury. Blood flashed around and covered the walls as dwarves died as they came at her. She kicked one, caving in its chest and bouncing it off the wall with enough force that it rebounded back toward her. She swiped its head off as it flew at her, ducking under the arterial spray and moving further into the building.

  [Air Shield] caught the headless dwarf before it hit him and [Air Current] whisked the offending blood away from him as he stalked after the Apostate. He watched her, trying to figure out what skills she was using, but he didn’t see any of the normal signs of skill activation. All she was using were her enhanced stats and battle experience. Against this weak foe it was all she needed.

  “Stairs on the left,” Naomi said as she turned to the right. Santi followed on her hip and looked to the left as a group of dark dwarves were running up the stairs. These ones were in armor, bronze breastplates and helms that covered everything but their eyes.

  [Gust] threw them all backward in a clamor of clattering armor as they wheeled over and backward. Weapons went flying, scattering down the stairs and into the darkness below. He cut the spell off and looked over to where Naomi was finishing off the last of the dwarves.

  “Think that’s it, or should we finish clearing the house?” Santi asked.

  “Hold the stairs, I’ll clear the house,” Naomi said as she started moving at even greater speeds. She leapt and used a single foot to push herself off a wall and disappeared. Santi looked back at the hole that yawed in front of him and sighed to himself.

  “Why can’t monsters like wide open and sunny spaces?” Santi asked himself. It seemed like he was getting into the habit of finding all the creatures that like dark, dank, spaces.