Umbrefel's maw was twisted in a pained snarl. Blood and drool gushed from the mouth of an apex predator. One eye was gone, half of her face was slick with blackened flesh.

  Long claws dug deep into the loose gravel, her back arched for a readied leap towards her prey.

  The two undead. A rat and a man.

  Seventh had his axe ready. Fang-Knife stood low, snarling with his iron ready to slice and stab.

  For two heartbeats, nothing happened.

  The umbrefel strode forwards like a spring unsprung, exploding gravel behind her. Seventh managed to barely duck forwards, dodging the razor-sharp claws trying to rend his flesh.

  He didn't see the tail hitting his jaw, momentarily disorientating him.

  Instinctively, Seventh summoned bone wall behind him— thick and short— just enough to cover his blind spot where the cat lurked.

  The wall shuddered on a strike he didn't see behind him. Lunging forward, Seventh created more space between him and the umbrefel. The wall was already on its last bits of mana, barely holding itself together.

  It had turned on landing, trying to hit him from behind. Fang had apparently dodged the swiping claws, and was attacking the back legs.

  The shadow-cat shuddered, malforming into something between shadow and solid material. It made a keening sound between a howl and a hiss. Iron knives clattered onto the gravel, and the shuddering ceased.

  Shit.

  The ratkin were ordered to stab knives into the umbrefel to disrupt the Shadow Jumps.

  Seventh and Fang had realized that when they had met their prey the first time. It couldn't use its trump card to teleport anything else than itself. Holding on to a half-ton-weight beast seemed too suicidal, so they had gone with a better plan: planting iron knives as anchors.

  Now the umbrefel was trying to get rid of them. Seventh needed to finish this before that happened.

  Fang aimed, and made a masterful slice in the middle left leg. Blood spurted on him when the vertical slice came to an end, and ruined ligaments gave up.

  The umbrefel snarled at the pain and lost mobility. It turned to bite at Fang, but he was already retreating away with sidesteps, and backjumps. He made sure not to lose sight of his enemy for a second.

  Using the Fang-made opening, Seventh dashed to cleave with his axe. His weapon buckled thrice as he hit all three legs on his side.

  He didn't have time to celebrate his successful attack before he was hit with a counter-strike that landed on his left side. Seventh could feel his bones crack, and flesh being torn by a monstrous paw's claws.

  Grunting from the pain, he tried to take a step back, but another paw was already coming in his way. He tried to raise his axe for a block. Too late.

  His side opened further, ruining the strained leather armor, slicing through like it was made of paper.

  The pain was sharp. White. Hot.

  Seventh's feet caught up on something, he stumbled, and fell down.

  Hitting the ground flared the pain, making his vision black and white for a moment. Blinking his sight back, Seventh realized he was staring at the well.

  A roar sliced the air with a knife. Fang landed a knife throw on umbrefel's neck. It mewed in pain, tried to scratch the painful intrusion away.

  Its form rippled again. Other knives clattered to the ground, but the freshly forged and sharp fang-knife was stuck too deep.

  It was now the only anchor left.

  The shadow-cat took a careful step back, looking between the rat and the human.

  It was huge. Seeping wounds glimmered in the fire-light. Maw and claws covered in old and new blood. Long tail whipping around like a weapon.

  Seventh could see her wounded right side. Buckling middle knee, almost severed front paw and charred back leg. Left side had to be just as bad, Fang was doing his magic back there.

  He fired his Shadowbolts at her. They slammed on her side, mutilating already burned flesh.

  Seventh hadn't expected that. There had never before been any damage from his Shadowbolts before. But now...

  Burned flesh without fur.

  Her head snapped towards Seventh, and a deep growl vibrated the air. Their eyes met, both blazing with determination of survival.

  Curved knife flashed when Fang soared through the air aiming for the throat.

  She roared and twisted, raising her paws for a quick block, and counterattack.

  Fang was already gone, dashing behind. He picked up one of the knives on the ground, and was checking its balance and feel for throwing.

  The flexible tail caught him. A cracking whiplash of an attack struck him on midriff, sending the light ratkin flying straight to the bone wall keeping the inn's remains upright.

  The impact cracked the wall and crumbled the weakened, ashen beams.

  A pillar of red and orange sparks lit the room, creating a sunrise on the mosaic sky.

  Fang wasn't standing up. Umbrefel was running to the ratkin. To rip and tear the nuisance apart.

  Firebomb crashed between them, making the large cat skitter to a halt. There was the fear of fire in her eyes.

  Second one hit her on the right side. The strong side.

  Hissing and mewing in pain, her whole form flickered. A failed Shadow Jump. She tried to run.

  Now.

  Distracted with the fire and pain, the umbrefel didn't see Seventh lunging forward, axe high in the air.

  With a roar he swung his axe down. There wasn't time to aim, Seventh just lifted his axe up and down repeatedly, hacking away at the burnt mass.

  His axe sunk deep. Notched bone, cut through fat and muscle alike.

  She slammed on him down. Seventh's leg failed to keep him up, and all of a sudden his world was filled with teeth and rage.

  Her jaw clamped around his arm.

  He screamed. Bones cracked.

  He drove the axe deeper, twisting it.

  A gout of warm blood splashed across his face. She growled mouth full of mincing hand.

  His axe-hand was stopped by a monstrous paw. Forcing his axe down.

  Growling with menace, she slowly started to pull Seventh apart.

  His left elbow popped. His flesh stretched and was starting to tear.

  This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

  Seventh bellowed in agony.

  Losing the axe, he pointed his fingers upwards. Shadowbolts fired from his fingers, carving the umbrefel's soft underbelly one blast at a time, aiming at the bare skin scorched free of shadow-resistant fur.

  A black shape leapt from the shadows on top of her head. Bloody iron slammed at the back of her neck, nicking the spine and severing arteries.

  Upswing opened the floodgates, and the nightbeast keened. Scrambled with her weakening limbs and slumped. The blood pooled around her and Seventh.

  Seventh could feel her fast heartbeat slowing down. Weakening.

  Her breaths were rasping, and the jaws held no more strength to stay on his arm. Agonizingly, Seventh tore his arm free.

  She let out a last whining breath— almost like a low whisper of a name— and was still.

  He was still trapped below the beast when he saw the first wisps of death mana emanating from the corpse. Warm watercolors of yellow and green. Almost blindingly bright compared to the ratkin death mana Seventh had seen.

  She had died staring at Seventh with tired eyes. He turned his gaze to the roof. He could still see some color up there.

  Seventh could feel the System notification trying to snake itself to his thoughts. He pushed it back.

  Not now. Just give us some damn rest.

  Fang stood next to her. A weird look in his eyes. A ghost recognition, redemption, flickering inside his head. His hunt is over.

  Slowly, he pulled his knife out from the neck. He let his hands hang limply on his sides. They were shaking.

  Seventh collected some of the umbrefel's death mana with Area Channeling and made small but sturdy Bone Wall to prop the heavy corpse up, giving him just enough space to snake away.

  This time, his legs were fine and he could stand up. His hands were a different story.

  Absently, Seventh wondered if he ever was going to finish a fight with all four appendages left.

  The two of them stared silently at the burning husk of Pilgrim’s Rest, and the blackened corpse of a Prowl-Shadow.

  A cracking sound from the corpse woke them up from post-fight-torpor.

  With his Death Sense, Seventh could see the mana stopping its calm ascent, and twisting wildly inside the body, forming new shapes, creating new colors. Purple and black twined together, melting the body away with cracks, snaps, and slurps.

  Blue and green pulsed under the pristine black pelt until they too vanished.

  It all happened in seconds.

  Seventh stared at the pelt on the ground. He looked at Fang. The ratkin scratched behind his ear, twitching in annoyance.

  “FOR FUCKS SAKE! I WAS GOING TO RAISE THAT UP!”

  The yell echoed around the castle, scaring away the approaching scout team that had heard the fight.

  Seventh could feel his eye twitching as he marched across the gravel. That wasn't fair! He was supposed to raise the dead to fight with him! This did not do! What kind of monster just melts away? Where he could file his complaint? And where was the—

  Did he have something to do with this?

  Eyes narrowing in suspicion, Seventh gave the closed temple door the stinkeye.

  A ripping sound alarmed him to turn around, just in time to see a golden tear in reality appearing above the dark pelts, and a potion dropping down. It hit the pelt, rolled around on its base, and in unnatural snappiness stopped right side up.

  Grunting in relief and annoyance, Seventh picked up the potion and used Identify to check if it was the good stuff.

  "Huh, let's see what the box says now," Seventh said and used Identify again.

  Giving the box dry, tired chuckle, Seventh popped the bottle open with his teeth and handed it to Fang.

  The ratkin's eyes widened and his jaw slackened noticeably.

  “We're both little banged up. Better to have two working bodies than just one,” Seventh said. “Splitcies?”

  Fang nodded while taking the potion in both hands. He carefully drank just half of the potion before handing it back.

  While the potion was changing hands, crackling and popping filled the air while Fang's injuries were fixed. His expression didn't change one bit, but the ears dropped low.

  “Tough guy, huh?” Seventh said and gulped the remaining potion.

  He really had a plan to tough it out and show his minion, but the boiling white-hot pain doubled him over while knitting his bones and meat to a working condition.

  At least Seventh's tear ducts didn't work, and he didn't bawl. That was at least a win and a half on his book.

  Uncurling himself from a ball he had collapsed into, he saw Fang dragging a corpse from the embers of the inn. The bait they had used.

  The body was remarkably unscathed by the fire. It smelled strongly of smoke and blood.

  "Where did you find him?" Seventh asked.

  Fang simply pointed at the uncollapsed chimney in the middle of the ruin.

  Ratkin had probably taken cover in the chimney, but it ended inside solid rock, no airflow. He probably had suffocated. Or died of heatstroke.

  Seventh didn't exactly care. A body was a body and he would raise it up. It was a poor option compared to the umbrefel. He would raise it up when he had enough mana to—

  A new blazing quest box appeared in front of him. Leaking golden light and sparkles on the ground, leaving charred spots all around.

  ╔╦══╩╦╬╩═╦╩╦╦╩? ?

  ╠ ╩╦ NEW QU#ST ╣║╠╦╣▄ |

  ╚ ╦╩╬═╦╩╬╗╔╩╣╗╝║█

  Ki?ll the ratkin tribe. The WHOLE tribe.

  Time l?mit: 720.215 hours

  Re--ward: Rank ↑ up to thRee Attributes, Rank ↑ up to-O two Skills, and a new Skill!

  "Oh for the love of—" Seventh bit his tongue when the box approved itself, and disappeared in a crackling instability of the universe.

  He kicked the temple door open.

  "HEY! What the hells is this? A new damn quest? Right after all that? After what we went through?" Seventh yelled making his words echo in the small stone chamber. His head hurt. "I didn't even approve the first one! And now you just daisychain this bullshit on top of us?"

  The silence echoed.

  Seventh's head throbbed. He couldn't take all of this anymore. He was tired. He was constantly in pain, again and again.

  And now there was the System and a claimed god toying with him.

  He kicked a loose stone in the middle of the floor. It bounced off from the wall and clattered around. "Yeah, sure! Hide in your hole! When I die, I'll find your sorry ass and kick it straight down through the hells to the next universe!"

  He stormed out. He made a dozen steps before squatting down and starting to yell holding his head with both hands.

  Gravel crunched when Fang walked next to him.

  Seventh's axe clattered in front of him. The handle had deep clawmarks across it.

  Great. Even my weapon is wounded.

  Releasing his head from his grip, Seventh hung his head low.

  "We got... Another quest," he said after minutes of silence. "He wants me to kill every single ratkin. A whole tribe—"

  Fang corrected him with a hiss.

  Seventh corrected himself. "Sorry, a whole clan."

  He moved his eyes from gravel to Fang's face. He still had that haunted look. There was something Seventh didn't know. Fang had gone through something more than a mere fight.

  "You— okay there buddy?" he asked softly.

  It took a long time for Fang to answer, but finally he slowly shook his head.

  Seventh sighed deeply and stood up. "You and me both."

  A slight vertigo caught him off guard and almost made him fall. Shaking the feeling off he forced himself to move. The mild throbbing had evolved to a migraine.

  Just a bit more. Then rest.

  A barrage of blue boxes filled Seventh's field of view and the pain in his head surged through his whole body. He twitched twice before collapsing to the floor.

  Fang jumped from the crashing sound, and was shaking Seventh awake in an instant. It didn't do anything. His master was out.

  To his horror, Seventh started to leak blue smoke out of his body. Small wisps of light steam collecting and slowly raising above.

  Normally, anybody showing signs of magical shenanigans were left alone or chucked to an abandoned tunnel, but Fang didn't have that luxury. He had to keep his master safe, unconscious or not.

  After scratching his head for a while, Fang shrugged, and dragged Seventh to the temple. The blue smoke had gained some whitish spots making it more azure at Seventh's chest.

  Leaving him behind the altar, Fang dragged the ratkin body in, and collected the pelts. To his surprise, there was linen-wrapped bars of something below them.

  Sniffing identified them as preserved food. Odd neutral smell. Or was it all the smells mixed together? Fang carried all the loot next to glowing Seventh, and watched.

  Waiting for a new turn of events for his weird master, and listening to the distant whispering in his head.