Nearly two hours of on-and-off running with the occasional use of Agility Burst kept my stamina reserves balanced near 70%. After the first few miles, I noticed my massively improved stamina capacity thanks to my Stamina Battery passive. Although, I could've covered the same amount of ground in half the time, I was weary of expending too much stamina, knowing if I breached the critical warning level only death awaited. Plus, I was hoping by now Orus would have convinced the bandits to abandon Waystone, sending them my way. If I moved too fast, they'd never catch me.

  As I ventured south into uncharted territory, the dirt road narrowed—wide enough for just a single wagon or two horses riding side by side. Colossus sized trees reached toward the sky, only allowing slivers of moonlight to pierce through the ceiling of leaves, casting a shallow glow upon the forest floor. I sat down in the middle of the road, planning to recover most of my stamina before I reached the crystal lakes.

  An awful instability loomed in my guts as visions of the past festered in my mind, bringing me back to a certain night during my short stint in New York.

  A few years ago, I ran into some hoodlums on the subway. They were harassing a college aged tourist who was as lost as they were drunk. And I was already in a horrible mood because I had spent the better part of the month stalking a serial scammer that stole retirements from some sweet old people. The whole thing turned out to be a pain in the ass, but I had finally found the target's vulnerability. On the day I planned to strike, the son of a bitch dropped dead from a heart attack.

  I remembered being so dejected, and hungry—absolutely fucking starving for a fight. So when these three punks started picking on this innocent drunkard, I intervened with glee. I had pretty good control over the space, but I didn't expect the tourist to intervene on my behalf.

  She got in one good punch before one of them clocked her with a pair of brass knuckles. She landed real hard, head banging off the edge of the damn bench. I distinctly recalled her blood hitting my cheeks and it feeling like warm summer rain. Something snapped and I blacked out. Next thing I remembered was desperately scrubbing the blood from my hands in a public restroom. The sudden absence of control and blurred memory of the fight truly unnerved me.

  I gnawed on the inside of my cheek, hoping not to repeat the incident.

  A patter of claws rapidly hit the ground and low growls echoed in from the rear. I pivoted on my feet, pleased to find my first XP delivery arriving in the form of three men riding wolves. Each mountain wolf was level four and the riders were levels four, five, and six.

  Target: Eagor

  Level: 6

  Karma: -2150

  Bonus Data: Born in Vaulter, age 35 male. Founded Wolf Fang bandit group two years ago after quitting The Death Riders due to their rigid curfew and harshly imposed bedtime.

  They slowed their approach upon spotting my silhouette. Panting hard, their wolves stared down the 30 foot straightaway with weary eyes.

  I rested my palms on the sheaths of the one-handed swords at my sides and skimmed through their data while they whispered amongst themselves.

  "Raise your hood," Eagor said, finally trotting forward on his hesitant wolf.

  "Did you come all the way from Waystone to ask me that?"

  He shimmied his boots into the wolf's side, but the beast didn't budge—its legs remained locked in place. Eagor was a plump man with a deep scowl, looking as if he was permanently disgruntled with the world over his own failings.

  His two companions were a decade younger and reeked of arrogance considering the way they were staring me down. The level five, Taylorian, held his chin high and swept his hands out in a grand gesture that ultimately ended with him simply pointing his index finger at me.

  "Obey our orders or our wolves shall feast," Taylorian shouted.

  I flipped my hood back, revealing my face. Eagor turned and looked at Taylorian who looked to Drystal, the level four, who referenced a piece of paper in his hands.

  "I think he resembles the illustration. Though, his nose is misaligned," Drystal said. "See, the guard wasn't lying."

  "Silence, this could be a trick," Taylorian said as he cupped his gloved hands around his mouth. "Who are you?"

  "I am the misfortune you're seeking," I said, calmly walking toward them.

  Eagor twisted his body, swiftly launching a pool ball sized stone from the sling tucked under his shoulder. I effortlessly shifted forward as the smoothed stone whizzed past my head.

  Eagor readied another attack, but he was too late. He blinked and I was already at his side. I grabbed his arm and ripped him from his wolf. The beast immediately abandoned ship, running off into the woods.

  "Forward, you stupid mutt!" Taylorian and Drystal yelled as they drew their swords. But their wolves refused to budge.

  No amount of desperate shouting convinced either of their mountain wolves to move.

  I pressed my boot into Eagor's back and diligently twisted his right arm like a wrench turning a stubborn bolt. He yelped in distress, eyes begging his comrades for an assist. Sinew snapped, cartilage ruptured, and the joints in his shoulder collapsed as his arm came loose in my iron grip.

  Eagor's agonized wails composed a melody of despair that cut through the group's hollow triumph at finding their grand prize. Suddenly, Taylorian was trying to get his wolf to turn around only for the beast to snap at him, staunch in its "I'm not fucking moving" stance.

  On the contrary, Drystal jumped down from his wolf. Equipped with a sword and shield, he approached with caution and a severe lack of urgency for his friend. I released Eagor's right arm, took hold of his left and ratcheted it back, enjoying the blissful sound of his bones cracking.

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  "Who else is coming?" I asked as Eagor screamed once more and passed out from the pain.

  I towered over his unconscious body, facing Drystal head-on as he second-guessed his commitment to a close-range engagement.

  "The Umbral Raiders, and The Cinderwind Renegades weren't far behind us," Drystal said, lips trembling.

  I dropped my heel onto the back of Eagor's head and crushed his skull, smearing his brains into the ground.

  "Onyx Blade," Drystal shouted and swung his sword at a laughable speed.

  The blade swooshed past my cloak as I stepped to the side and countered with a single slash of my own sword. Drystal's head spun off his shoulders and I felt nothing. There was no satisfaction or relief from the pounding headache that had formed when I heard the names of yet another two hostile groups who wanted me dead.

  "This has gotten quite ridiculous," I said to Taylorian, who was frozen in shock. "How much destruction did you bring to Waystone?"

  "N-n-no it wasn't me! Cinderwind were the ones who burned the tavern down. We had no part in that," Taylorian said, and stole a glance over his shoulder, contemplating an escape.

  "Don't even think about it, Taylorian," I said.

  His heartbeat quickened and his breathing became shallow upon hearing his name uttered by a maniac.

  "Your miscalculation is understandable. Admittedly, I haven't left many witnesses alive to share the truth." I took two steps, stopped, and stared up at the moons. "Maybe if you were aware of how many people I've sent to the abyss, you, Black Diamond, Soul Viper, and the others would've given up by now."

  The petrified bandit lowered his sword, recognizing the weapon's uselessness. He opened his mouth only to find himself tongue-tied.

  +310 XP

  +95 Karma

  Kill him.

  Retrieve your dagger and jam it into this coward's face.

  See if the blade's tip is long enough to touch the back of his skull.

  "The voice in my head is suggesting I kill you and I'm inclined to agree," I said as a light breeze carried iron scented air through the pass.

  Taylorian gulped. "We knew that you took down a bandit camp with another party and caught Drayvoss off guard. Then, in a second stroke of divine luck, you obtained a chaos shard in your first dungeon."

  Even with his life on the line, he couldn't hide the envy in his tone. Finally, Taylorian took in the carnage before him, flipping a switch in his head. His shoulders sank as the burden of his comrade's deaths bore down on him.

  "The idea was mine to begin with," he whispered as his eyes traced the splattered blood across the ground. "A 1000 gold bounty for a novice's head... After I heard the rumors that you were wounded from a recent battle, I told them it would be light work. We never knew about Soul Viper or Black Diamond's interest." He shook his head, on the verge of tears. "They only went along with it because they trusted my intuition."

  He dropped to his knees and finally unleashed the blubbering waterworks. "Cyprus, please show mercy."

  I was seconds away from succumbing to my own intuition, readying my hand for a satisfying throat-rip when I noticed his -400 karma. To even reach level 5 he should've accrued a steeper karmic deficit than what was presented.

  "I have two children. A boy and a girl. They have no mother, I—"

  "Stop talking," I said, cutting him off before he launched into all the reasons why he should be nominated for sainthood.

  A quick scan with Karma's Gaze confirmed he fathered two kids and revealed his hatred for pickled vegetables. The beast within salivated, eager to spill blood, piquing an insane curiosity. Would even the slightest shred of remorse appear upon his death?

  "The Umbrella Raiders and these Cinderbreeze clowns, how vast are their forces?" I asked, grappling with the mounting desire to kill him and move on.

  Every moment wasted was another second Viessa suffered in Black Diamond's custody. I couldn't shake the image of her pale bloodied body standing before me with a look of pure hatred in her eyes. Mirage or not, it stoked the regret that I should've dealt with her sooner. Aclana was no place for an elf, and there was no room in my heart for a liability. I had to get her back and send her off to Onadell.

  "The Umbral Raiders and The Cinderwind Renegades agreed to a temporary alliance and joined forces as we were leaving Waystone. They have at least 30 bandits in their caravan," Taylorian said.

  "How close are we to The Silverlight Plains?"

  "It's just a bit further."

  I sheathed my sword, took off my cloak, and tossed it to Taylorian.

  "Put this on and continue riding south. When you reach the end of this grove stop and wait for further instructions," I said, almost hoping he'd refuse.

  But Taylorian donned the bloody cloak with no objection, and rode south on his skittish wolf.

  ***

  As the path widened, the towering trees receded, laying bare the rolling plains to the south that stretched further than the eye could see. Like I instructed, Taylorian waited at the thicket's opening, sitting nervously on his wolf.

  I stuck to the shadows, sitting on a log a few dozen yards away in the forest, focused on my breathing. In the distance, to the east, I spotted the lake Cleveland had told me about. The water's surface shimmered with a radiant glow emanating from below and a thick mist rising off its surface.

  Crisp air filled my lungs as I drew closer and surveyed the surroundings. I caught sight of the delicate outline of a bridge stretching out and over the lake, disappearing into the fog. As much as I wanted to rush across the bridge and tear through Black Diamond, I couldn't risk getting pinched between two hostile groups.

  Once I crossed the bridge and entered the keep, there was no backtracking until every mercenary was dead. I waited patiently, my stamina recovering tick by tick as I watched the timer count down.

  Time Remaining: 21:32:58

  Taylorian kept his head on a swivel, anxiously trying to pinpoint my location without success. For a fleeting second, it looked like he was considering fleeing, only to abandon the thought as he fidgeted on the mountain wolf.

  Minutes later, a ruckus sounded from the north, disrupting the previously tranquil atmosphere. Wooden wagon wheels creaked as hooves pounded against the dirt, pulling the caravan down the passage.

  Four flatbed wagons teeming with bandits passed through my field of view. Giving Karma's Gaze unrestricted access, the ability provided me with an overwhelming amount of data that I quickly sifted through, focusing on their levels and karma, knowing it was pointless learning the names of the soon-to-be dead men.

  Unsurprisingly, not one of them maintained a positive karma rating and most of them were only level three. Clearly, they relied on quantity over quality. I spotted a level six riding in the front of the pack with a handful of level fours behind him.

  The bandits were clad in mismatched armor and tattered cloaks. Their leader, a burly figure with a bushy brown beard, scanned the area with a hawk-like gaze. I trailed alongside them discreetly underneath the cover of the trees like a cheetah stalking a herd of gazelles.

  As they neared the end of the passage, the level six leader spotted Taylorian sitting on his wolf up ahead in the middle of the path, his outline barely visible in the darkness.

  Dokoran, the leader of The Umbral Raiders, was a level six with a whopping -2200 karma and a lengthy criminal rap sheet. He rode an impressive steed decked in armor that seemed far more expensive than anything his underlings were wearing.

  Riding beside him was a level five named Lor-Noth, a ruthless bandit who usurped control of The Cinderwind Renegades a year ago, according to Karma's Gaze. Dokoran waved his arm through the air and the bandits jumped out of their wagons, preparing for combat.

  "Did your wolf run out of breath, Cyprus?" Dokoran yelled out to Taylorian, whose face was obscured by the hood of his bloodied, borrowed cloak. "I planned on giving you painless death until I saw what you did to Eagor. Sure, he was a bastard, but we grew up together in The Death Riders. Once we're done here, we'll return to Waystone and finish razing it to the ground."

  Dokoran hocked a loogie to the ground as his troops gathered before him, some already notching arrows.

  Taylorian lifted the hood, and raised his hands over his head. "Don't shoot!"

  "Tay?" Dokoran said in total confusion as he raised his hand high and clenched his fist.

  The silent signal rippled through the bandit's ranks, freezing the archers in place.

  "He's still nearby. Watch yourselves," Taylorian warned, his wolf growling with its fangs bared.

  Invisibility.

  Agility Burst.