Welnar and the Monk walk back into the shop, Kali giving them an odd look as she helps clean up, the old lady giving one hell of a death gaze. “We uh… Made up.” Welnar says.

  “There was just an unfortunate misunderstanding.” The Monk follows up.

  “Well in that case, come help us finish cleaning up your mess.” Kali grumbles, the two obliging. Once the mess is cleaned up, the three sit down at a table…

  “So you are a… Different, S grade bounty hunter?” The Monk asks. Welnar nods.

  “Recently given the title… But really, how did you mistake some armored dude for me?” He asks in return.

  “I was acting harshly… I again, apologize.” The Monk responds solemnly.

  “What’s your problem with this bounty hunter in the first place? What happened to make a Normal like yourself hell bent on taking one on?” Kali asks. “Not that I didn’t do the same, although unknowingly…” She adds, muttering under her breath. Welnar manages to hear though, chuckling slightly.

  “The bounty hunter dishonored me and my brothers… I had to regain my honor, or die trying.” The man says, clenching his fist. Welnar and Kali look at each other momentarily… Honor, huh? Welnar doesn’t particularly care for the idea… He can’t worry about something like that with his quest for the Scarlet Hearts.

  “Remind me, what are you exactly?” Welnar decides to change the subject a little.

  “I am a Monk of the Glowrock Mountain, down south near the sea. Me and my brothers live in solitude, quietly practicing our craft… I only traveled here in search of the bounty hunter who dishonored us.” The Monk responds, smiling. A mountain? Does that mean he wears that outfit all the way up there too, with no hair? That’d probably be damn cold…

  “Okay, so what’s your craft?” Kali asks.

  “Knitting… And combat. The Glowrock style.” The Monk responds. This gets Welnar’s attention. The Glowrock style? “Is that style what you were fighting me with?” He asks, the Monk nodding. It seemed interesting…

  {“We don’t have time to learn a whole new style of fighting, Welnar.”} Monarch says.

  {“Seriously Monarch? Come on, it’d be fun.”} Welnar argues.

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  {“No. I strongly discourage it, we can’t waste anymore time when the next Heart could be anywhere.”} She says. Welnar sighs… No use. Looking a bit dejected, Welnar nods. “Sounds cool… But we gotta get going.” He stands up, Kali giving him a weird look. “Already?”

  “Can’t waste anymore time, apparently…” Welnar grumbles as Kali stands up as well. “I hope you find that asshole and kick his ass.” Kali says to the Monk, smiling. He smiles as well.

  “I hope so as well… Good luck on your travels, bounty hunters.” The Monk also stands, bowing toward them. Welnar waves. “Bye!” Then, the two exit the shop… After walking for a minute, Kali nudges him. “We didn’t even get to learn the guy's name… Why the rush?”

  “Sorry, it’s uh… Orders from above.” Welnar says, pointing up to his halo and chuckling. Kali laughs too. “I see. Alright then, let’s get moving.” She says, the two beginning to make their way out of town…

  …

  The Collector walks through the darkness in the dead of night, his path only illuminated by a lantern held in his left hand. He’s heading north, toward the shrine of the Flooding Rain. Soon it will be within his grasp… The Collector can’t help but feel proud.

  Lights become visible between the trees. One, three, five, six… Six lights. The Collector stops as footsteps approach… Eight people emerge from the forest surrounding him, all wearing something to conceal their face, and holding a weapon… The Collector sighs, attaching his lantern to his belt.

  “This is not a good idea.” He says plainly. They continue approaching, surrounding him. A few have katanas, others wakizashi’s, essentially daggers. “It’s eight to one! You’re that bounty hunter tearing through the land, yeah? Hand over your coin and you’ll live.” One of the bandits says.

  “So you know who I am. And yet you still think you can win?” The Collector says, his massive figure looking down upon the bandits.

  “Of course… We have a Sorcerer of our own!” A bandit steps forward, what seems like lightning sparking from their hands. He’s always glad to see stupidly overconfident bandits…

  “Invoke: Haste.” The Collector mutters. In the blink of an eye, before any of the bandits can react he dashes toward the Sorcerer, leaving green afterimages in his wake as he grabs the Sorcerer by the face and slams them to the ground. A crunch is heard as their skull caves in. Seven to go. The bandits all jump back in a mix of surprise and horror.

  The Collector stands tall, swiping his hand through the air causing a rift to open. He reaches in, pulling out a simple shortsword. “None of you are worth bloodying my artifacts. One chance. Run.” He says as the rift closes.

  Three of the seven run, dropping their weapons. The remaining four still shake with fear, yet clutch their weapons tightly. As the Collector steps toward them, they step back. Then… With a yell, one of them charges, katana held high. “YOU BASTARD! I’LL-”

  “Invoke: Haste.” He speaks again as the bandit is mid-scream. Half a second later, his cries are cut short as the Collector closes in, slamming the man in the gut with a pommel strike that winds him. Then, he sweeps the leg and sends him to the ground, stabbing his blade through the back of the neck. This causes another to run, leaving only two who charge in unison, both wielding wakizashi’s.

  The Collector opens a rift again, swiftly pulling a throwing knife that he sends flying at one of the two bandits, then pulling out a second shortsword. The throwing knife strikes the first bandit in the shoulder, causing him to drop his wakizashi and yell in pain. The other slashes, but hits nothing but the heavy armor plating. “Pathetic.” The Collector scoffs. “Invoke: Strength.”

  In one swift motion, the Collector thrusts the shortsword through the bandit’s stomach and out his back, lifting him up in the air with one, bulging arm. He rips the sword back out, the man falling to the ground with a thud. The final one turns away, trying to run… Only for the Collector to open a rift, pulling out another throwing knife and landing it cleanly in the Achilles heel, causing the man to fall. The man desperately claws at the dirt, trying to crawl away, but wordlessly the Collector walks over, stepping down on the man’s back before beheading him. Then, he’d go around and collect his used weapons… The throwing knives, the shortsword he left inside the other bandit… Putting all of them back into his pocket dimension.

  “Stupid fools…” The Collector scoffs as he continues on his way. Nobody will get in his way… Not anyone.