Demonic Magician

With a rush of air I was once again at the roof of the fort. A spray of yellow paint decorated part of the battlements where the man had been standing previously. To my right, a staircase that led downwards.

Using the dove meant that I had to drop my Hellhound+ that had been harassing the occupants of the ground floor. Hopefully he bought enough time for the others to gain some advantage. Away from the light breeze, I stepped down the stone steps. A wooden door, slightly ajar, in my way.

I stepped through it after activating Vanishing Act+ on myself. It looked like some manner of sleeping quarters for the System-created. Bunk beds with plain green linens covering them, beige pillows at each end. There were also six guards in this room. Swords already drawn but inactive, and an exit door was across from me to lead to the next floor below.

Just before my invisibility ran out, I split two cards out. Their eyes turned to me as I strode toward the exit, their arterial sprays as my cards darted round their necks, my fanfare. The magician had arrived. As their bodies slunk to the floor in near unison, I swiped things from the room on my path to the door.

Two pillows, a small chest, three sheets, a metal helmet, and an empty metal cup.

Not exactly a lion's bounty, but we made do with any prop that came up. Couldn’t exactly be picking in a world where-

As my hand went for the door handle, it instead flung open, narrowly avoiding hitting me as it revealed the perpetrator.

A wiry man by all accounts, with a full beard of black. Pale, sickly complexion in contrast to the red hand-print that sat over his pale blue eyes. There was a tiredness to him, alongside an unhealthy amount of potential anger. The two blades he held assisted in painting that picture. This close I could clearly see the debuff icon over his head. A red square with black handprint within - Unfaltering Faith, it was called, with no further information given.

Confusion illuminated him briefly. “You’re not Gharra?”

“No,” I drew a card and flicked it toward him. That must have been the man on the roof. Odd that they hadn’t clocked the body that Roger had been standing by was their friend.

He dodged the card and leaped at me, coming up to block his attack as I took a few steps backward.

I smiled as I flourish my hands. “You’re not the first group of insects hiding away in a nest that I’ve then burned to the ground.” Into my right hand, my newer Spear of Luck.

“Quit talking and die,” he growled, a crackling blue energy now covering his blades.

It had been a while since I had fought a good one on one battle - it was easy to forget that people were full of abilities and differing skills when you could cut their throat from fifty paces. I felt calmer in this situation than I had against the rat with the dark sword, or in the fort against the chainsword guy.

This man was much quicker, though. Higher level and more experienced. But then again, so was I. Despite putting some of my better tricks on cooldown already, I felt I had enough in me to win out. The others would be relying on me after all, and I couldn’t allow any disappointment to mire my performance.

He burst forward, another skill powering his movement. I threw the spear, although it turned into a pillow as it left my orbit, the spear returning to my clutches straight after. He batted the object away with one hand, the electricity on that blade fading out. As his other hand came in, my left rose up, with the helmet on it. A dull sensation went down my arm as I barely blocked the attack, but now we were face to face.

That just meant there was so much of the room he couldn’t see.

I was knocked back again, nearing the staircase back to the roof. The warmth of freshly bleeding cuts soaking through my shirt. I didn’t appreciate it when my suit got ruined, despite it being a natural part of the day at this point.

My right hand rose up to point at him, a purple card leveled in his direction. Mana and then health pooled into it, causing it to glow brighter before turning white. He had made the decision to wait with his guard up, sure of himself that he had a skill that could dodge whatever I was about to throw at him.

“The trouble with the stage,” I said softly, “is that it is always so damn hot.”

His eyes narrowed, right before he was engulfed in flame. My Imp+ back behind the door gave me a devilish grin and started to charge up another fireball. Shadow flinched and my card went out.

Waves of energy went over him as he prepared some of his most important defensive skill - I assumed, anyway. But my card did not strike him. Instead, I curved it through the bed frame beside him, causing the top bunk to tilt and eject a dead guard out on top of my opponent.

His defensive auras flickered as he stumbled across the room, pushing the corpse to the floor. A second fireball was almost ready - he found himself in a terrible place between two attackers. Still, he wasn’t totally powerless. Two swords of blue electricity appeared above him, and he entered a martial stance with his own two blades up.

“I’ve never fought someone with four swords before,” I cooed. “There’s just one problem though…” I flourished the spear around, tuning it into the Blade of Shadow, before again into my Knife of the Trickster. “You had no chance from the beginning.”

With a wink, I used . The Dazzle icons faded away to be replaced by others. Slower movement speed, constitution, and agility.

He could no longer be fooled by my tricks, but they were no longer required. I blazed with purple energy as I darted toward him, drawing his focus just before the second fireball struck him. The smells of charred leathers and singed fabric hung heavy in the room as I lunged out with my knife.

I found purchase in a forearm raised to protect himself. His other blade came forward but I already had a trusty plank of wood in the way to block it. Instead, my left hand jolted out and grabbed him by the throat. came up as the two ethereal blade jabbed down at my face. We let go of our weapons and wrestled for a bit. It felt as though it went longer than it probably did - mere seconds of trying to overpower each other in the brutal, old-fashioned way.

Pain wracked his reddened face as he collided with something metal, around waist height. We weren’t near the beds, though, and he was rightfully uncertain about current proceedings.

Fog suddenly filled the room, obscuring both our visions, and I managed to push myself away from his grasp in the brief confusion.

A blast rang out through the room, dulling my hearing as I was sprayed with warm liquid. There was a wet slump as something dropped to the floor, and then comparative silence. Sent the Imp+ away. Sent the Cannon away. Stood in the dense gray for a few moments to regain my composure.

Chat dinged me a message.

[Quinn: We are in ground floor^]

[Quinn: Two dead^]

[Quinn: Barrier prevents ascension^]

[Max: Another dead up here, will work my way down.]

[Max: No eyes on hostages.]

I hummed to myself as the fog vanished, and I dropped the spent wand to the floor. It did not clatter, however, which was greatly disappointing and I was tempted to pick it up for a do-over. It had landed on the top half of the man bisected by the Demonic Cannon. System really didn’t know what it was doing to give me that.

From one of the dead guards, I pulled up Roger, drawing him from wherever he was below. Purple eyes rejected the prior occupants as the skull split, pushing the helmet off of the puppet’s head to reveal long ears of glowing energy.

“Boss.” He peered around at the carnage. “Looks like you’ve been doing well.”

“Any injuries downstairs?”

Roger shook his head. “The big dog got some bone splinters in his gums, and the new guy looked like he had bitten off more than he could chew, too. Is he like…”

“Like what?” I asked, gesturing towards the door and passing him my spear. His mace would have been left downstairs. I dropped a Hellhound+ card behind us.

“Like… is this like a harem thing you have going on?”

I paused at the threshold of the doorway and gave him a tired look. I was tired. Not built for melee combat, despite ending up in it regularly. Perhaps I could get some training off Quinn when we had some easier days. “No, Roger,” I said.

He just shrugged in response.

Not really wanting to encourage him any further, we continued down the stairs as I rolled a Bandage around in my left hand. My first use of Shatter was reasonable. Not exactly the same flare as Finale+, but then again, how could you beat the pinnacle of a show? It had slowed him down enough to where I could avoid being stabbed, and position him in front of a hastily summoned Cannon loaded with a plank of wood. At least I knew now the force wasn’t dissipated when used to fire something unusual.

He had left the door open here, too, and we stepped through into a room with two figures sitting against the left wall. Bound with hessian sacks over their heads. There were also four guards, which turned toward us, anger in their eyes.

I stepped over to the bound pair while my demons dealt with the filth. A card out, I cut through the ropes restraining their hands and feet. Pulled the hoods off to reveal the faces of the two that matched the descriptions we knew of them. They seemed out of it… drugged, maybe? No handprint debuff, but nothing else to give me a clue either.

[Max: Hostages located. Will clear remaining Crimson.]

No use waiting for the reply. As I stood, I watched my demons finish off the last of the guards. Told the hound to guard the prisoners and Roger to lead to the next floor.

They were trapped now. Desperate, most likely. Holding off the rest of the Party below, they were probably waiting for theirs to come back down the stairs at any moment. Now on the stone steps illuminated by torchlight, I slowed and let Roger get further ahead. We reached the closed door, and he turned to give me a brief nod before opening. I nodded in return, our final act coming up.

He swung it open before taking a step, immediately becoming impaled by shafts of glowing white light. His puppet body twitched before he slumped over, dead. That was a shame.

I stepped over his spent body with my hands in my pockets. Invisible.

The man at the other side of the room was almost a caricature of evil wizard. Long graying beard that hung from a peaked hood, robes a dark black with red skulls emblazoned up the sides. A wild mania in his eyes, panic mixed with fury. Signature hand-print. One had held up the barrier over the door beside him, the other outstretched toward me, anticipating me following in Roger’s footsteps.

He seemed almost eager for me to do the inevitable, and my strides took me across the room in a couple of seconds.

Click, on the outstretched wrist. The barrier immediately dropped. My invisibility dropped. Nullifying Cuff prevented his active skills from working.

Confusion twisted at his face as the hand turned to me, attempting to cast a spell.

“Show’s over, sir,” I said, softly. “It’s time to go home now.”

Against better judgement, I gave him a swift headbutt, knocking him both to the floor, and unconscious.

The held door swung open, Quinn and Ren there with weapons readied, before seeing it was just yours truly standing alone. They filtered in to allow Leyla’s group to follow suit.

“Next floor up,” I said, and they rushed past with little word.

Part of me had expected worse. To find the bodies dissected or used in some weird ritual. Something ten times as macabre as this. Perhaps I shouldn’t wish ill or assume the worst. Not everything day had to be dark and miserable.

As if hearing my thoughts, Ren came up and cupped the side of my face with her hand. “Report, trickster.”

“Some minor injury. Mentally I am fine. This one here is still alive.” I shuffled my boot to gently kick the prone wizard.

“Your eyes seem normal.” She removed her hand and gave me a pat on the chest, before her warm heal sank through me. No real discomfort, which was nice.

“I will keep Wolf company, if things are safe here,” Quinn suggested, not needing to say that the large bear had issue with coming up the stairs.

I sighed as he departed and removed my hat. “Not bad for a rescue mission.”

“You almost sound disappointed, Max.”

With a smile, I affixed my hat and stood tall. “Far from it, Ren. Sometimes you need an easy crowd to get some practice in.”

She rolled her eyes and gestured to our captive. “I don’t know why you want us to struggle, but let’s get this one out front ready for questioning.”

“Dibs on bad cop.”

“Fuck you, Max. Fine.”

My eyes searched around the room as we kneeled to grab onto the figure. Not for valuable loot. Not even for clues. Not even for the extra props I could use.

I searched for a way to end this all. For us to stop repeating the same death and destruction wherever we went. As we hoisted the wizard up, the answer seemed the same as it had always been.

Find and kill the Lady.