Sid POV

  “It’s the end of the road for you, Georgie.” Sid halted and turned to face George, squaring his shoulders as he braced for the inevitable confrontation. The childish nickname tasted strange on his tongue, but it served a purpose. Egomaniacs despised being belittled. Sid needed George angry and irrational; even if his victory was almost guaranteed.

  George spun around, confusion etched on his face. Sid ignored the odd looks from the onlookers. He was well aware of the sheer absurdity of his situation—a solitary man boxed in by nine enemies, yet dictating the terms of their demise—but his attention remained fixed on the canopy, tracking the approach of his hidden ally, Varun.

  Sid had arranged for Varun to track them from the shadows. That earlier embrace was nothing but a ruse to deliver the plan: Varun was to snipe whichever man Sid designated. Stopping the march was the cue to launch the attack. All that remained was singling out the victim, and George’s second-in-command was the perfect candidate.

  The man was universally despised. His power and authority stemmed from kissing George’s boots. Sid had initially planned a covert meeting for today to see if the lackey could be coaxed into betrayal. That was no longer necessary. But he was a powerful, unpredictable element in the field, and taking him out neutralized a dangerous wildcard, while also delivering a paralyzing, bloody shock to the rest of the crew.

  Sid shifted his gaze to the second-in-command and held it, throwing George and his men into deliberate confusion. No one, not even the traitors, knew the full scope of the takedown or who else was involved. For Sid, operational security was paramount. Compartmentalizing intel was the only foolproof way to prevent a double cross.

  Sid tracked his friend’s movement through the leaves as Varun aligned himself over the target. In a sudden blur of motion, Varun plummeted from the high canopy, touching down a mere six feet behind their target; the thick trunk of a neighboring tree swallowing his outline, and ensuring only an observer with Keen Eyes could spot him. He leveled his weapon, blasting the second-in-command from close range, and vaulted back into the canopy the instant he pulled the trigger.

  George and his men froze, stunned by the sudden execution. Sid could see the panic in their eyes as they scrambled to understand who had taken down their teammate, terrified by the thought of a scary skill or a hidden sniper. He fed on that uncertainty, using the sheer terror of the unknown to even the odds of the uneven fight.

  Sid relied on his inside knowledge of George’s team to ensure the first strike went down without a hitch. Because George alone possessed Mana Shield, the ambush was a guaranteed kill on anyone else, but the real trick was ensuring Varun remained a phantom to amplify the shock. Of the two men on George’s team with Keen Eyes, one was secretly working for Sid. And the other was their dead target.

  “What are you all waiting for? Attack!” George bellowed, scrambling to rally his team. He didn’t move an inch himself, though. Terrified by Sid’s unknown capabilities, George wanted one of his underlings to act as bait.

  Sid unslung his bag and pulled it open, revealing a glittering cache of skill crystals. “They’re all on my side, Georgie. Almost every single one of them traded their loyalty for these. The plan was to draw you out and finish this quietly.” A sharp, cruel grin crept across Sid’s lips as he tilted his head to the side. “But I guess you were just in a hurry to die.”

  Combat was always a game of deception. The trick was projecting overwhelming strength when your position was fragile and feigning weakness when you were strong to draw out the enemy. Behind his confident smirk, Sid knew he only had three confirmed turncoats out of the four he’d approached; meaning the numbers were dead even.

  However, Sid’s strict operational security paid off. Because the traitors were blind to each other’s identities, paranoia infected the entire squad. Everyone suspected everyone else. That rampant doubt, combined with the lethal mystery of Sid’s hidden shooter, paralyzed even the loyalists.

  The stalemate wouldn’t hold, though. If Sid didn’t deliver proof of the betrayal or trigger an internal attack soon, someone was bound to call his bluff.

  “All you’ve done is bring us a bunch of skill crystals,” George said, his fake bravado failing to mask his underlying unease. “What’s stopping us from just killing you and taking them for ourselves?”

  “And doing what with them, exactly?” Sid didn’t flinch at the threat. “None of you have enough free slots to absorb this many skills.”

  “If they’re as worthless as you claim, why would my men betray me for them?” George’s confidence returned, his posture straightening as he thought he’d found a hole in the logic.

  “Because I can show them how to fuse their current skills and unlock new slots.” Sid kept his gaze locked on George, a smirk spreading across his face. “Kiran!” he called out.

  Posturing only went so far. Sid knew that running his mouth any longer would only broadcast weakness; he had to show the crew a real, breathing traitor. And Kiran was the perfect candidate. As one of the two men who had agreed to betray George before even hearing about the rewards, he had one job: launch a surprise attack to trigger George’s Mana Shield.

  “Yeah, that’s right!” Kiran called out, his voice brimming with misplaced confidence.

  Instead of hurling a rock to pop the shield as instructed, Kiran offered verbal support; the man was clearly rattled by the chaotic buildup to the ambush and forgot his assigned task. Sid clicked his tongue in annoyance. It was a stark reminder that he couldn’t expect his own squad’s seamless coordination from outside help.

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  “The more skills you combine, the more powerful you become. How do you think Varun killed your friend over there?” Sid pointed at the corpse of the second-in-command. “Not even your Mana Shield can protect you forever.”

  Sid amplified his voice, hoping Varun would recognize the hidden signal and force George’s shield to activate. He wanted to reveal as little about Varun as possible. Controlling the flow of information was how you won a rigged fight, and the less they knew, the better. But he couldn’t order the attack until George was exposed.

  Unlike their unreliable new allies, Varun didn’t miss a beat.

  A rock plummeted from the canopy, bouncing off George’s suddenly shimmering Mana Shield. George whipped his head around in a frantic panic. His composure shattering. Already rattled by his lieutenant’s sudden death, he looked unhinged in front of his wavering crew.

  George took a few nervous steps back, his eyes darting around for the unseen shooter. “You know what Tony is capable of,” he pleaded with the surrounding crew. “Sid can’t win that fight. If you turn on me, you’re choosing the losing side.” He then glared at Sid, playing his last card. “What about Pallavi? Tony will slaughter her if you arrive without me.”

  “Tony is my problem, and I’ll deal with him alone. I don’t need their help. You do.” Sid shot back, refusing to let the seeds of doubt take root. “The best deal for these guys is to help me kill you, take the payout, and learn how to get stronger.”

  Sid let the silence hang for a second, reading the shifting expressions on the men’s faces. A slow, triumphant smile touched Sid’s mouth. “Did you really expect them to throw away their own shot at power just to watch you get stronger and boss them around? You can only push people so far, Georgie, before they decide to push back.”

  Color drained from George’s face. The nine-on-one ambush originally meant for Sid was now a nine-on-one death trap closing in on George. He swallowed hard, eyes darting everywhere. His ragged breathing and frantic backward staggering betrayed a desperate urge to flee. But escape was no longer an option.

  Before he could take a single step in retreat, a brilliant white sphere of light shot through the air and anchored him to the spot. His attempt to bolt was the only signal the turncoats needed, as they’d been instructed to wait until George made his inevitable choice between a futile counterattack or a desperate retreat before launching their assault.

  Kiran didn’t disappoint this time. He was the first one to send out the Mana Web, with another turncoat firing immediately after.

  Sid had handed out the Mana Web skill crystals the previous day as a calculated incentive—a down payment to spur the turncoats into action. He had even handed one to the undecided recruit. It was a gesture of good faith designed to build confidence in his leadership, proving he could supply such powerful tools regularly and that George’s defeat was merely a matter of time.

  Yet, a massive hurdle remained. George had the Enhanced Strength skill. The same skill Pallavi used time and again to shatter Mana Webs. While tearing through two overlapping webs was certainly harder than breaking one, George would still rip himself free in a matter of seconds. They had to move fast.

  That was where Varun came in.

  George flexed his muscles, driving a forceful step forward to shatter the magical webbing. Before his foot could even hit the ground, Varun flashed into existence right beside him, crouching low to slip a thick noose around the struggling man’s ankle while keeping a grip on the trailing end of the rope.

  In the blink of an eye, Varun flashed up into the canopy, looping the cord over a sturdy branch to create a makeshift pulley. Using his Drop Strike skill, he plummeted down. His descending momentum yanking George into the air the exact second the webbing snapped. Now hanging upside down and thrashing wildly, George was completely helpless as Varun landed at the base of the trunk and lashed the rope around the bark.

  George possessed the Bark Skin skill, which hardened his bare skin into something akin to tree bark, absorbing standard bullets with terrifying ease; shooting him in the head would only wound him, meaning a kill required much higher-caliber firepower. George’s near-total invulnerability to their weapons and magic made him seem invincible to his team. At least until they met Tony.

  Sid stalked his way to his trapped prey in slow, deliberate steps. “You thought Bark Skin made you unbeatable? You still need to breathe like the rest of us.” He shifted his piercing stare toward the turncoats. “Drown him in Mana Web. Suffocate him in the webbing.”

  The two remaining turncoats sprang into action. One, too unfamiliar with the skill, spewed the Mana Web from his mouth like a spider. Still, both attacks struck true, plastering thick, sticky mesh over George’s face and neck.

  Suspended in the air, George tore at the webbing, his frantic spasms sending his body swinging in erratic arcs. Deprived of leverage, tearing the suffocating webbing away proved agonizingly slow.

  Varun flashed to Sid’s side, handing him the gun. Sid closed the distance to the swinging captive. With a desperate heave, George finally ripped enough webbing away to free his mouth, gasping for air. Sid was waiting for exactly that. The second George’s jaw opened, Sid lunged, shoved the barrel past his teeth, and pulled the trigger. George was no more.

  Looking at the lifeless body, a fleeting thought crossed Sid’s mind—George’s demise was almost pathetic. The man had died without throwing a single punch or showcasing his terrifying strength, outplayed from the very first second to suffer an ignoble end. But honor was for fools. Smart fighters didn’t match brawn with brawn; they countered it with brains. Sid wasn’t here to script a worthy death for his enemies. He was here to guarantee his team survived without a single casualty.

  When Sid turned around, he was met with a sea of starry-eyed, bewildered faces. Several of his new allies had their mouths hanging open.

  “Drowning him in the webbing was never actually going to work,” Sid said, breaking the silence. “It would dissolve before he suffocated, meaning we’d have to keep replacing it. Plus, the web isn’t an airtight plastic bag; it’s likely porous.”

  He paused, unable to resist a teaching moment. “All fights are about deception. The winner is simply the one who deceives best.”

  The rapt attention he received from George’s crew made it clear they were starving for guidance. Granted, they probably didn’t care about his tactical wisdom; they were just eager to learn how to evolve their skills. Sid was just opening his mouth to dive into another lecture when his perception skill flared, alerting him to a blur of movement at the edge of his vision. Someone was advancing on their position, and they were closing in fast.