A wet, sickening thump broke the spell.

  The nightmare of the burning homes and the smell of ash was instantly replaced by the copper tang of fresh violence.

  The next thing Henry knew, a force slammed into his chest. He was being shoved aside, his boots scraping against the asphalt as he almost lost his balance.

  A spray of hot, thick liquid hit his face.

  He wiped the red smear from his eyebrows just in time to see Shane standing exactly where he had been moments before. A Paladin’s white stone sword had run clean through the flesh of Shane’s shoulder, the bloody point protruding from his back.

  The B-rank Paladin holding the hilt loomed over them, its faceless helmet tilting slightly as if confused why its blade had met a different target.

  Tsk. Shane clicked his tongue. As if he’d stepped in a puddle, rather than have his body impaled.

  Shane’s free hand moved in a blur. He reached for his enemy and slammed his palm flat against the Paladin’s chest plate.

  “[Fireball].”

  The explosion happened at zero distance. The impact didn’t kill the B-rank monster, but the sheer force blew it backwrad, its grip ripped from the hilt of the sword.

  Shane swayed, the heavy marble weapon still embedded in his body, weighing him down.

  With his uninjured arm, he reached down, grabbed the back of Henry’s neck, and hauled the tank to his feet.

  “[Blink].”

  The world dissolved into a smear of color and pressure.

  They reappeared thirty yards away, stumbling out of the warp near the entrance of a bodega.

  Shane hit the ground on one knee, his boots skidding on the glass-strewn pavement. The white stone sword was still stuck in his shoulder, the heavy hilt dragging his upper body down.

  “Ugh...” Shane gritted his teeth, blood slicking the corner of his mouth.

  “Hold this,” Shane growled at the horrified Henry, gesturing at the hilt.

  Before Henry could process the command, Shane made him grab the hilt, then gripped the blade with his bare hand. The edges cut into his palm, but he didn’t care.

  A fresh torrent of crimson gushed out as the wide blade was yanked from his muscle and bone.

  Henry, with trembling hands, dropped the blood-slicked weapon onto the street.

  Shane stood up, swaying slightly.

  They were away from the A-rank Executioner, which resumed pulling out the back half of its body out of the rift, but they weren’t safe yet.

  They were still in the middle of Brownsville. And all around them, the B-rank Paladin underlings turned their halos toward the two hunters at the sound of the metallic lang hitting the ground.

  Shane’s command was less a word and more a bloody cough.

  “Run.”

  The syllable hit Henry, the same words his sister had used, and without even a moment to get his bearings, his body reacted on pure instinct.

  He ran.

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  A split second later, Shane was beside him, a palm placed firmly on Henry’s shoulder blades, gently pushing him forward, lending him momentum.

  Henry’s surroundings finally came into focus.

  The smell of burning rubber stuffed his nose, and beneath his boots, the asphalt was spiderwebbed, buckling under the pressure of the energy pouring from the dungeon portal.

  To his right, the air shimmered as a Paladin’s blade swung for his neck, the glowing edge intensified with its B-rank skill, [Aura Blade].

  Henry ducked, the heat of the blade singing the tips of his caramel hair.

  “Left!” Shane barked.

  Henry jerked sideways just as another strike carved a gouge into the brick wall where Henry’s head had been a second before.

  The chaotic dance kept Henry from realizing anything was wrong with Shane’s pace. They were rats in a maze, dodging the flashing steel of the Paladins that were trying to box them in. Shane, with his [Blink], concealed his F-rank stats and matched up with Henry.

  Then, the ground jumped.

  The Heaven’s Executioner crashed into the street as its body was finally freed from the portal.

  The five stories tall statue’s massive shoulders smashed into the apartment buildings, shearing off fire escapes and crumbling bricks like dry cake.

  The narrow streets slowed the massive Executioner down, giving the hunters a chance to pull away.

  “Hunter Ashwell!” Luke’s voice cut through the noise.

  He appeared from the shadows, sliding in beside them. Shane grabbed Henry and Luke and [Blinked] one last time.

  The world twisted. The broken street, the massive giant, and the flashing blades vanished in a lurch.

  Henry’s boots hit concrete with a hard slap.

  The air here was cooler, smelling of stale dust and old grease. They had materialized inside an old textile factory.

  The heavy metal shutter was pulled almost all the way down, leaving only a thin slit of daylight at the very bottom.

  The harsh sliver of light cut across the concrete floor, barely illuminating the rest of the party huddled in the gloom, waiting for them.

  *

  Shane did a quick headcount.

  Everyone was here.

  The problem was Henry. Henry was slumped against a concrete pillar, eyes wide and unfocused. The kid was still in a daze.

  Shane frowned slightly. It wasn’t surprising; he had just been dragged through a battlefield after being hit with a [Hallucination] curse.

  Outside, a slow, but rhythmic thud shook the factory’s foundation.

  Heaven’s Executioner was moving, and the realization hung densely in the stale air.

  With a monster that nobody could stop now roaming around, the mood was bleak. No one knew what to say.

  It was Luke who finally stepped into the thin shaft of light cutting across the floor.

  “First of all,” Luke began, his voice steady and projecting just enough to command the room without echoing. “You all did well. Every single one of you bought us more time. If we can just hold out until the S-rank hunters arrive, we can save the city.”

  Shane narrowed his eyes.

  The cadence, the tone, the pause for effect—Luke spoke like he’d been rehearsing this speech.

  “Let’s give up on the minions,” Luke continued, pivoting smoothly. “We need to lure the monsters toward the intercontinental portal. Monsters are drawn to mana even more than life force.

  “If we stick together, and make it easy for them to tail us, they’ll follow us instead of the civilians. It’s dangerous, but the S-rankers will be coming through that portal, so if we can just hold out, it’ll also be the safest place to be.”

  A hunter looked up, wiping sweat from her forehead.

  “So we just run? Not fight?”

  “Yes.”

  Luke nodded, his expression grave but understanding.

  “We can’t beat them anyway, can we? The civilians should all be evacuated by now, so if we focus all our mana on escaping, we can lead the horde away from the rest of the city and limit the damage.”

  Shane leaned back against the cold wall, crossing his arms while ignoring the jabbing pain in his shoulders.

  He had been trained to fight through pain thanks to his hyper-regeneration ability he’d had in his old life. It always felt weird when his wounds didn’t instantly stitch themselves together.

  Anyway, Shane thought that Luke was smart.

  Luke was telling them to give up, but framing it as a heroic act of baiting the enemy.

  Like Shane, Luke had been waiting for the perfect moment to persuade the others.

  The hunters from Josh’s team trusted Shane’s judgement. They wouldn’t have listened if Luke had just told them to run from the start. That would have split the group.

  But now, Luke had given them the convenient excuse that they’d done all they could and allow them to keep their dignity. He’d let them see how strong the enemy was.

  If they ran now, neither the Hunter’s Association nor the public could blame them. With everyone else in the room slowly nodding along, desperate for a way out, silently pressuring Shane that they should retreat, even he wouldn’t be able to force them to stay.

  Shane watched the relief wash over the group. Luke had played him perfectly.

  ...He really couldn’t let his guard down around this guy.

  It didn’t matter.

  Unlike Luke, who believed in surviving the day and not overdoing anything, Shane played the odds.

  He had no intention of backing down.

  He had a plan to kill the boss.

  Shane stood up, summoning his sword, the Broken Oath from his inventory. His posture made it clear that he was staying.

  “Anyone who wants to run can leave.”

  WriterSkyeReed