Simi crouched near the treeline, watching the extremely well-hidden tunnel exit. At least it had been well hidden, but now a large group of men and women were clustered around it, with even more patrolling the surrounding area.

  They seemed to be a well-organized group, all wearing similar armor and weaponry, each with some kind of mask or helmet to conceal their faces.

  Next to her sat her father, the rest of their small group positioned behind them. The large warrior Erik was there, and so was Ulin. They were probably the strongest among them, but other notable people had joined as well.

  Vitzer wore a fierce grin. “There are quite a lot of them, aren’t there? How was this not discovered sooner, I wonder.”

  Ulin snorted. “Greedy politicians and weak officials. That’s how.”

  Vitzer chuckled. “Likely, yes. Now, what should we do about them, I wonder…”

  “We should sneak in, take as many as we can before we’re discovered. We can’t fight this many…” Erik said, his voice tense.

  Simi shivered at Vitzer’s expression. Erik—and likely everyone else—had clearly misunderstood her father’s words. He wasn’t afraid of their numbers. He was simply considering how best to dismantle them. If he had some experimental method he wanted to test, knowing him, he might even be looking forward to it.

  Vitzer gestured toward the tunnel exit. “It is time. The victims are here.”

  The tension among the adventurers grew palpable. All of them just stared incredulously at her father, but Vitzer popped the last bit of cookie he had been snacking on into his mouth, then rose smoothly.

  “Now, dear children, here is the plan. I want you all to secure the innocents, while my daughter and I handle the fighters,” he said, a toothy grin spreading across his face.

  Ulin began to argue, ‘’with all due respect, that is…’’ But Simi stepped forward. “Please, do not argue with him, Ulin. He is… strong…”

  Vitzer’s grin widened. “Damn right I am strong. And quite bored as well. It has been a while since I last pushed myself a little. It will be good exercise for these old muscles again. Also, I working on orders from the adventurer’s guild, that is a nice change of pace from the usual...” He stopped himself and coughed into his sleeve, trying and failing to hide that he had definitely been about to say something incriminating. He looked around, grinned, then pushed on unrepentantly.

  ‘’Well, time waits for no one as they say, onwards!’’

  A staff materialized in his hand—a black wooden thing topped with a pitch-black crystal. Shadows seemed to gather around it, swirling in lazy clouds. He gestured to her. “Come along, Simi. Time to work.”

  With that, he walked out of the trees, his rather small form blending incredibly well into the darkness. Coupled with the living shadows gathering around the two of them, he was nearly invisible from a distance.

  He gestured toward a small group off to the side. A number of carts and carriages were parked there, along with their drivers and a few guards. “Go take care of those. Burn the wagons. Kill the horses if you have to. Those things are not to move, understood?”

  Simi took a deep breath, she knew better than to argue. “Yes, father.”

  “Good. Show me how you’ve grown, yes?” He focused his attention on her for a moment. “And do not hold back. Consider your restraints off, you understand?’’

  Simi’s eyes widened, but she hurriedly nodded.

  Looking satisfied, Vitzer grinned. “Now, let’s see… how about…”

  His words faded as he tapped his chin. Then he began waving his staff in a circular pattern, and that was when people began to take notice. ‘’Yes, this should strike some fear into them I believe.’’

  The shadows around them began to spin—like a tornado made of living darkness—and more and more gathered into it. Shouts erupted. Spells were fired their way, along with a volley of arrows. None of them came even close, as the bracelet on her father’s wrist glowed faintly.

  The translucent dome around them was only visible when something struck it—and by then, it was already too late.

  Vitzer cackled as the tornado grew to enormous proportions, the diameter at least ten meters.

  Then it contracted in on itself, gathering into a single point. For a brief moment, silence reigned.

  Then, with all the violence of an apocalyptic storm, the gathered shadows exploded outward from that singular point of darkness. Wraiths of shadow streaked in every direction and, within moments, fell upon their stunned victims. Dozens of them…

  Shadows weren’t meant to have physical form. They weren’t meant to be able to cause physical harm. But what if someone could infuse malicious spirits into them—making them temporary vessels for beings of chaos and death?

  That was what her father had called forth. She had only seen it once before. It was the power of three combined runes, as well as the latent nature of his path—Shadowsinger. It allowed him to create temporary short term contracts with spirits, in particular the malevolent kind. The kind that lived and fed off the suffering of their victims.

  The shadow spirits tore into their victims. While a few were able to fend them off, most were ripped apart. You needed magic to counter these monsters—something to ward them off. Even then, Vitzer was at a far more advanced stage than anyone present, and the overwhelming disparity in strength left a chasm none could fully bridge.

  Vitzer followed up the spell by whistling a haunting melody. Once more, shadows gathered to him, pressing close. Then he began to lift from the ground, shadows twisting into grotesque arms and legs, the incorporeal made real through magic and spirit energy.

  Within moments, her father was encased in shadow, a five-meter-tall monstrosity of darkness.

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  It had numerous tentacle arms, but two main ones—each ending in long claws of condensed shadow. It bounded forward on many limbs, looking like a grotesque menagerie of horrors, and in moments he was among the fighters.

  What followed could only be described as pure carnage.

  Simi sprinted to the side, her father drawing everyone’s attention. She saw Erik and the others rushing toward the tunnel exit, their faces pale with disbelief at what they were witnessing. None of them even so much as thought about getting in the middle of that.

  She came up behind the first carriage, lightning sparking in her hands. She forced as much mana into the spell as she could and, with a yell, released it without even a semblance of control.

  The spell was called Lightning Wave. Usually, she worked with a team and controlled how the lightning behaved.

  Not this time.

  Lightning was, by nature, dangerous and unpredictable—and she let it run wild. She had been restrained for years, unable to truly let loose.

  Thunderous booms and violent cracks erupted in a wide wave before her. Within moments, most of the carriages were ablaze, and the majority of the people around them were nothing more than twitching heaps on the ground.

  Simi rushed forward, a half-moon axe in each hand, the power of the storm coursing through her veins. She activated her empowerment spell, and lightning struck her from the heavens—not to harm, but to temporarily empower. Making her a crackling goddess of the storms, sparks lashing out at anything and everything around her.

  She flashed forward, her movements quick and controlled. It felt incredible to use her magic freely again. Her parents restriction had lowered the output of most of her abilities, no longer…

  No—her affinity, her nature, was meant to be outside. Unconstrained.

  One axe bit into a neck, but she barely registered the man’s scream. Her grin—sharp canines bared—was fierce. The storm within her was finally allowed to run free.

  She moved among the fallen and those still standing, and none were spared.

  Between slashes of her axes, she cast more spells—Lightning Spear, Thunderwhip, Sparktrap—

  She was the storm in that moment. An all-consuming force of nature.

  Not long after charging after the insane duo, Erik found himself unfastening slave collars—magical tools meant to control whoever wore them. Just touching them made his skin crawl.

  The fighting was nearly finished. He and the others had expected a brutal struggle.

  Oh how wrong they had been…

  Vitzer was an absolute monster—so much so that even they, his allies, gave him a very wide berth.

  What was even more surprising, however, was Simi.

  He had known her for a few years now. They weren’t close really, but they had fought together more than once. She had a good reputation and was known to be strong, but—

  He glanced her way.

  She was still rampaging—a storm of violence. Lighting crackled around her in a display of power, unlike anything he had ever seen from her. The disturbing part was that he had never seen her happier… or more free.

  She was chasing down the remnants of the slavers now—the few who had managed to escape the sudden and catastrophic assault from the father and daughter combo.

  Even from a distance, he heard her laughter.

  Almost maniacal.

  Despite his overwhelming power, Vitzer was more controlled—albeit absolutely terrifying in his own way.

  Erik unlocked the final shackle and led the young woman—no older than ten—to a carriage they had managed to salvage. Ulin was nearby, tending to the crying men and women. They weren’t dying, but they were in bad shape nonetheless. The anger on Ulin’s face spoke volumes.

  Erik turned back to watch Vitzer.

  The Gravling was back in his natural form and was currently dangling a slaver by the neck, a living shadow coiled tightly around the man’s throat.

  Vitzer wore a blissful and calm smile, but his eyes were cold and pitiless as he interrogated his prisoner.

  “As you can see, child, you are very much at our mercy. And I have very little patience for people such as yourself. So I will ask a few questions. You will answer—or I will make you answer. Understood?”

  The dangling man’s blonde hair was sticky with blood, but his eyes held defiance. “Fuck you! I won’t talk to you, monster!”

  Vitzer sighed. “Let me explain why you should reconsider your stance. You see, my wife is a healer…”

  A few seconds of silence followed. When Vitzer didn’t continue, the dangling man began to croak out a laugh. “That’s it? Fuck her too!”

  Vitzer tilted his head slightly. “It seems I need to spell it out. Very well. You see, healers are intimately familiar with how a person’s body functions—how blood flows, how organs operate, how mana travels through it. I have been happily married for a very long time young man, and my wife is among the very best. I couldn’t help picking up a few things along the way.”

  When the man still failed to grasp the implication, Vitzer rolled his eyes. “Demonstrations… They always need a demonstration. Fine. Let me show you then.”

  A small rift of darkness opened beside Vitzer, and a barbed tentacle of shadow shot forth, piercing the man’s shoulder.

  He screamed—but strangely, there was no blood.

  Vitzer gestured and took on a lecturing tone, raising his voice so everyone could hear.

  “Now, what happens when blood flow is cut off to an arm? It becomes numb. Unresponsive. When you sever the mana flow, it is essentially a dead limb. In time, it will atrophy… rot. This spell of mine carries a corrosive aspect. Let me explain what that means, since you seem to be extraordinarily dense. I can accelerate that process.”

  As he spoke, the man’s fingertips began to darken. Erik watched in horrified fascination as the screaming intensified.

  Ulin rose to her feet, but Erik extended an arm to stop her, shaking his head.

  She looked furious, this went against everything she stood for and believed in. She saw Erik’s face, remembered Vitzer’s display, and growled in frustration. She didn’t intervene though.

  They shared a single thought, do not draw Vitzer’s annoyance to themselves.

  “As you are now experiencing, the pain of having a limb rot away is… considerable. I have cut off the blood flow. The mana as well. Once the rot reaches your heart—that is it, you simply stop. I did offer a simple conversation, child. But alas, I did say I am out of patience, and I am not as kind as I look.”

  Erik nearly snorted at that last part.

  Vitzer slowly turned his head to him, and Erik held up his hands realizing his idiot mouth had acted without checking in with his common sense. Vitzer raised an eyebrow, then shrugged and turned back to what he was doing.

  They watched as the man’s arm turned black. Then the elbow. The shoulder. There was a lot of screaming. Vitzer simply watched, like he was fascinated by the whole process.

  Finally—after what felt like an eternity—it reached his chest.

  The man convulsed violently, his body fighting to stay alive—then suddenly went limp.

  Vitzer pursed his lips, ‘’interesting, I don’t get many chances to experiment on living subjects like this. I think I can do better than that…’’

  Vitzer let the corpse fall unceremoniously before turning to his next captive.

  This time, it was a woman.

  Moments later, she was dangling in the same place.

  “Now, dear child,” Vitzer said softly, “let’s hear it. Will you answer my questions, or do you need another demonstration?”

  The woman paled, her face white as a sheet.

  Vitzer’s teeth gleamed.

  And Erik felt cold sweat run down his spine.