He didn’t know how long he had been swinging his club, but as soon as he had bashed one head in, he was onto the next. Every blow he struck had all the hate and fear and anger in him, channelled with pure venom through the rounded club he held in his hands. Every swipe crashed into bone with a satisfying crack; every thump smashed into flesh with a morbid squash. The grey stones and pebbles of the riverbank became a canvas of death for him. Every splatter of blood, every strip of grey flesh, every chunk of brain matter thrown together like a novice artist was experimenting with new materials. His first piece of art was a splotchy masterpiece devoid of life and beauty, accompanied by the peaceful sloshing of the river.

  It’s not like he had a choice. He understood why he couldn’t kill the demons clean like the women. His level was far lower than the enemies he faced and the endowment was enough power to do a little damage but nowhere near enough to kill in one-shot. So he had no choice. He needed to bash them multiple times. Bash their heads in. Their arms. Their legs. Bash. Bash. Bash. Like the cockroaches they were, he bashed their heads in with the same satisfying squelch, green blood spraying his face and arms.

  He was so focused on his art, so focused on spraying the green blood in just the right way that he was unaware of the beast behind him until it touched his shoulder. Frenzied and feral with only thoughts of survival in his mind, he swung his terrifying weapon with a guttural roar. It clanged against a metal gauntlet. A violet gauntlet. The beast in front of him had large, rounded eyes. Long silver hair. High cheekbones. He didn’t hesitate and swung the club again, this time at the beast’s face but the beast held his blow like it was nothing. A boot to his chest sent him to the floor, his backside slamming against the pebbles, the club falling from his grasp.

  Two other shadows appeared at the beast’s sides and it stepped closer to him, tossed its gauntlets to the side, dropped to its knees. It clambered over him, held his head in its hands, shouted at him. He kicked out and the beast sat over his thighs, locked its legs around his to keep him pinned.

  “ –ler.”

  It was screaming at him in a language he couldn’t understand. The apparitions to the side moved in a spectral dance, wisps of smoke and shadow.

  “TYLER.”

  The world came rushing back to him. He could hear the rasping snarls of demons nearby. The thuds of their bodies hitting the floor. The pitiful howls as an arrow pierced flesh. Imanie was to his right, relentlessly re-targeting with her bow and loosing arrows. Emelyn to the left, battle-axe in hand, hacking and chopping. Both of them controlled. Patient. Calm. They didn’t seem like people who enjoyed death. They seemed like people doing what needed to be done but taking no pleasure in it. Killing wasn’t fair but somebody had to do it. That’s how they seemed to him.

  In front of him, pinning him down was Alina, concern in her light-green eyes, her blood-red lips slightly parted in worry. “Are you back?” she asked softly, her voice slightly alarmed. “Thought we’d lost you there. I’ve seen people overcome with bloodlust before. If we can’t bring them back, there’s only one way to stop them. Or we remove them from society, and keep them in a cage. I’m not sure which one is kinder.” She smiled at him, and stood up, offering her hand to him.

  He took it, and let her pull him up to his feet.

  “I think it’s best if you stay behind us,” Alina said, picking her gauntlets off the floor and putting them back on. “We’ve seen you’re capable, but you’re not ready yet. Killing shouldn’t be pleasurable.”

  But it was. He hated to admit it, but it was. He looked around him at the piling bodies of demonspawn. Of the picture he had painted. The smashed-in faces, or the bulging eyes of terror-stricken beasts. Even these pathetic creatures felt fear and pain. But it wasn’t wrong. He had been right to kill them. To crush them. But he also knew she was right. It shouldn’t have been as pleasurable as it was.

  For all the demons they had killed amongst the four of them, it had barely thinned their ranks, though no more looked to be appearing from the portal. The three women encircled him and fought to keep the demons at bay, as they closed in on them, but the beasts were fearful. Cautious. They appeared to be driven to attack them. Compelled almost, but he could see in the way their eyes darted around that above all else, they had the same primal instinct as anyone. To live to see another day.

  The animal-heads, with the human bodies, the sprites with their three nostrils, and others that must have joined them later – red-skinned demons with horns, and almost-translucent wiry spirits warily circled the four of them.

  Suddenly, an unnatural silence fell upon them as if the very air around them was being sucked into a vacuum. The air fizzled amongst the demon ranks, and crackled with tiny beats of thunder, growing louder by the second. Time slowed as tiny orbs of light began to gather. At first one, then two, then four, then eight, and as the orbs grew, they merged into each other, growing ever larger, until a blinding light erupted, with a loud clap of thunder. Demons howled as their skin sizzled, their eyes burned. Some that had been caught in the light just ceased to exist. In the middle of the light, the air wavered and shimmered until it formed a silhouette, before the light scattered as swiftly as it came and where it had appeared, stood a woman.

  She stood as tall as Reaper, and wore an outfit that exposed more of her sepia-coloured skin than covered it. In fact, it scarcely covered it. The black dress was barely more than two flaps at front and back that stretched only halfway down her thighs. It was held up at the waist, the sides of her legs fully exposed, and revealing the delicate hem of her undergarments. On her chest, she wore a whisper of a bra, two thin strips of purple fabric, held up by straps that she had a lot more faith in than he did.

  It wasn’t the flaunting of skin that drew his attention, however. It was what was on it. Where Reaper had living liquid metal, this woman wore tattoos as if she was the artist’s practice site. Golden and silver spirals and curves stood out against the darker skin, bending around her midriff, spreading up and out towards her shoulders, where, he had no doubt they would wrap around her back also. Geometric patterns and concentric circles trailed up her arms, whilst seven and eight-sided angular shapes lined the inner and outer edges of her legs. Triangles and squares covered her shaved head, decorated her cheeks beneath her small, purple eyes. She looked like a walking mathematical equation.

  “Hello!” she said in the most cheerful voice he had ever heard. Then her tattoos glowed. A flash of light emitted from her midriff, instantly expanding outward in a perfect circle, with a small hole in the disc where Tyler and his companions stood. The light pulsed, the thin disc swelled for a split second, before the light contracted as quickly as it had appeared. “I call it the circle of death.” She winked at them.

  The effect of the light was like Alina’s sword strike earlier. Except on a much larger scale, and without the bisected torsos. Where the light had touched, the demons just stopped existing, like when the woman had arrived. One moment they were there. The next, they weren’t. Even the trees in the forest, where the disc had touched, had gone, leaving a clearing on the edge of the riverbank, like something had taken a bite out of the forest there.

  Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

  “Halo,” Reaper’s voice echoed in his mind. “About time. What took you so long?”

  “There was some trouble in the city,” Halo replied, her cheerful voice chiming in Tyler’s head. He glanced to his companions, who seemed every bit as lost as he was in the face of such flippant authority. Both Reaper and Halo had absolute conviction in their power over all else on this battlefield, including Alina and the two women, to the point that they could have a light-hearted conversation. Tyler afforded himself the smallest of smiles. He wasn’t the only fish out of water now.

  “What trouble?” Reaper asked. “And can you endow these four. Mine are running out.” Out to the far right of the riverbank, right up against the forest, Reaper continued his battle, a black and silver blur leaping and vaulting across the behemoth’s back.

  “Sentinel and I were sent to pick up the two outworlders,” Halo replied. She looked out across the battlefield, and saw a group of demons who were sneakily trying to flee towards the forest. “When we got there…” Compulsion or not, the group of demons certainly did not want to lose their lives. “…there were two shapeshifters there and a tiny human running after them.” Unfortunately for the demons, that very desire would be the end of them. “Of course, it took us by surprise.” The tattoos glowed. A blinding flash of light erupted in the midst of the fleeing group, and like the ones before, they were gone by the time the light disappeared. “Before we had the chance to wonder what was going on, the shapeshifters opened a portal much like that one, and none other than General Zeren emerged.”

  “Zeren?!!” The disbelief was clear in Reaper’s voice. Halo, satisfied the immediate area had been cleared, walked past Tyler and the three women.

  “Why don’t you guys take a rest? I’ll endow you in a moment, once I clean all this up,” Halo said aloud to them.

  “I want to know about the city,” Alina replied. “What’s happened?”

  Halo’s eyes flashed at the Princess. “I said you should take a rest.”

  It was said firmly, the cheerfulness of her tone removed. The undertones were clear. Alina may be a princess but she doesn’t get to ask questions of this fearsome tattooed woman. All four of them plopped themselves down where they stood. They weren’t tired in the physical sense. The endowment made sure of that. But the entire endeavour had been mentally trying, to say the least. Tyler wasn’t sure he had even recovered fully from his frenzy.

  As he watched small bursts of light erupt in various places across the riverbank – and wherever the light erupted, the demons that were there simply vanished – he wasn’t saddened in any way. He wasn’t excited either. Yeah, the demons were being dealt with but it wasn’t the same as when he could feel their heads give way to the club that he gripped firmly in his right hand. He glanced at Alina, silver hair flowing, gauntlets removed and laid to her side, her sword lying on the pebbles below. The irritation was clear on her face. He supposed not many people were in a position to put her in her place.

  Maybe he could discuss his thoughts with her later. The violence that was; not her being told off. He doubted she’d appreciate him bringing that up. No, he wanted to get her thoughts on his bloodlust. It was the first time he could recall being violent in his life, but he had enjoyed it far too much. He had given in to some base instinct that he wasn’t even aware that he had. He wondered if it had really been the first time he had been violent. Perhaps he was better off without the memories of his former life.

  “Sooooooo,” Reaper’s voice echoed. “Zeren?”

  “Sorry,” Halo chimed back. “Got distracted. Yes, Zeren and some lieutenants. Pure chaos and havoc followed. Had no choice but to contain him in the Academy.”

  “Right there?!!”

  “Yes.”

  “What happened to the shapeshifters?”

  “They got away with the two outworlders. The tiny human girl followed. We could have easily got them, but Zeren emerged and we got your call at the same time. Sentinel and I couldn’t take him alone, so we decided to secure the area. Sentinel stayed behind and I came to you.

  Wraith should be here soon, and once we’ve cleared this up, we’re to go help Sentinel. Now, tell me something. Why have you not closed this portal?”

  “Hah,” Reaper said, “like I’m not already preoccupied. Truth is, I couldn’t close it. It’s beyond me.”

  “How can that be possible?”

  “The shapeshifter might have had an artifact. Or she’s that skilled.”

  “Or you haven’t been working on your magic beyond attacking skills?” Halo didn’t sound amused.

  “That’s a possibility. But even so, my raw power should have been enough, so there’s something else to it. Something else keeping it open, maybe?”

  Halo methodically cleared the riverbank, flashes of light bursting here and there and just as quickly, disappearing. Everywhere the light touched, demons vanished. The tattoos on her skin pulsed with every flash, sometimes the ones on her head, at others, the ones on her torso or arms or legs. Never all together. Never in the same place twice. He wondered what the significance was. Why she needed the tattoos. Clearly, they had some effect, the way they glowed when she channelled her magic but Reaper hadn’t needed such things and nor had Mira. Or the shapeshifter, as she was. The real Mira was being held somewhere. And now the two shapeshifters had gone. And taken the outworlders too.

  Alina and the other two women seemed to be deep in thought to his side. No doubt wondering the same things he was. It was clear that they were discovering things about their world that they hadn’t known before. He looked at Alina more closely. She wasn’t just musing. She seemed anxious. Troubled. He thought he knew why. The tiny human girl that followed. That must be Kiri.

  “Will she be alright?” Tyler asked, and Alina turned to face him. “Kiri?”

  Alina studied the pebbles by their sides. Or perhaps the ruined heads of the beasts he had slain.

  “I don’t know,” she said finally. “She’s fearsome, and brave. Too brave. We had a plan to deal with the shapeshifters. I was meant to meet my intelligence squad today to confirm where they’re holding Mira and Celeste, and then when we had that information, we were going to trap the two demons. I asked Kiri to make sure they don’t get away. And then this happened.” She gestured to their ruined camp. “I never expected her to follow them like that. Sometimes, she takes things too literally.”

  He saw the worry in her face. He wanted to reach out and hold her hand. Try to comfort her. But he thought better of it. He didn’t want to give her the wrong impression. Or maybe he did, but the moment wasn’t right. Not here. Not now.

  Soon, the riverbank was almost cleared, the last of the demon stragglers running towards the portal. They had that choice earlier, but now the Riftlands was their only hope of survival. Halo wasn’t about to let them dream. There was no burst this time. Instead, she formed a circle of light, above a spot that the demons were running towards on their way to the portal. When they reached it, the circle of light dropped quickly and almost immediately rose, but the outcome was the same. The demons were gone and with it, a calm fell on the shores by the stream.

  Where there had been snarls and howls and the clang of metal axes and sword, or the twang of Imanie’s arrow; and where there had been Tyler’s bloodlusted rage, there was now only the gentle murmur of the stream and a slight breeze that brought with it the stench of stale blood and the faint smells of burned flesh from when Halo had appeared. The only traces of what had occurred here were the strewn carcasses and pools of green and blue blood that littered the pebbled bank, but those too would soon be washed away or taken by the carrion scavengers.

  In the distance, Reaper’s battle continued, and ahead of them, Halo concentrated on the portal, her tattoos cycling through gold and silver, the shapes glowing in sequence as she concentrated on the portal.

  “Well, that was eventful,” Emelyn said. “Not something I wish to face again.”

  “Oh, we’ve had worse,” Imanie responded. “Remember Hazhar Palace? You pulled a hundred mobs, thinking we were so powerful that they didn’t stand a chance.”

  “I wasn’t wrong, was I?” Emelyn said, looking over her shoulder with a grin. Imanie chuckled.

  “You may have been right,” Halo chimed in his mind again. “Something is keeping the portal open.”

  “You can’t close it?” Reaper said, a note of concern in his voice.

  “No.” Halo replied. Then there was silence. Reaper said nothing. Tyler looked over to the battle but it was hard to make out how it was going, though with the nonchalance Reaper displayed, Tyler wasn’t worried about the outcome. Halo turned to them, her purple eyes glowing, the tattoos across her body all glowing. But Tyler couldn’t focus on her. Beyond her, from the portal, a large red hand emerged with black fingernails, each as long as Tyler was tall.

  “Endow them,” Reaper shouted. “The four of you need to leave. NOW.”