Demonic Magician

Death would become a close companion on my adventurers, in more ways than one. Taking the lives of monsters seemed vaguely guilt-free even from the outset, and would only numb with time. Avoiding my own demise was a rough road of occasional spikes, that my boots were barely thick enough to tread through without some trauma. Taking the lives of other Players… now that was something that still clung to my soul to this day, even as common as it became. A weight that would one day drag me to the depths if I allowed it.

I turned my head slowly and was not surprised to see the pair of Red and Green now standing at the mouth of the pathway that I had entered the clearing from. They were both slouched against trees, a twinkle in their eyes now that they had found a morsel worth the risk. Perhaps I'd now learned the lesson of not speaking my thoughts out loud. Externalizing the process made it feel like I was pandering to an unseen crowd, but it looked like the current attendees had tickets for a different kind of show. A lesson hard learned for yours truly.

“Back so soon?” I asked with eyebrow raised, as I glanced briefly at the empty clearing around me to see if there was an easy escape. No.

“We knew something was up with you,” Red offered, as they pushed themselves from their stoops and took their first steps into the clearing.

“Not just your smart tongue, neither,” Green added.

“And a Summoner always has a special item they use for their skills. Quite valuable, usually.”

Green licked his lips. “Always.”

Their intentions laid bare. Part of me grew colder and steadfast. I held my hand up as they approached. “No closer.”

They stopped, but even wider grins crossed their faces. Red drew a sword, and Green unhooked some kind of cudgel from his belt. Their next steps were written clear as day across their faces.

Unsure as to where my confidence had come from, I was more worried about how the System saw Player on Player violence, rather than questioning whether my life was at stake. Did I need to wait for them to make the first move to be seen as the aggressors? I doubted it took nuance into account.

I drew a card from my deck as their bodies tensed up, ready. It had a picture on it that I had never seen on a usual playing card - a dog of crimson fire. My arm extended to show them the small rectangle and a circle of red started to spiral into existence in front of me.

A burst of red flame waylaid the assault of the two briefly surprised men as the demon crawled into existence. With the appearance of a doberman who seemed to be constantly on fire, the beast then crouched down and growled at the assailants.

Red looked to be a duelist of some sort, intending to be the beater, while Green could flank and get opportune strikes in. Neither could be particularly skilled at only a level above me now, but used the advantage of numbers to prey on the weak.

How my mangled brain managed to glean and scrawl that information into my skull so quickly I did not know. The last true struggle I can remember was getting into my slacks before they had to be readjusted. Holiday season was Hell. I wasn’t sure I could even command my summon to do anything - but I at least thought really hard about what action I wanted it to take.

Attack the one in green while I deal with red.

Whether by chance or it that was how this actually worked, my demon started to angle toward facilitating my plan. I threw out a card at the man in red clothing, the purple energy of my magic scoring through the air as it struck him in the chest - leaving a brief mark across his leather.

“Hah! Maybe not so valuable after all,” he grinned, briefly looking down to see the lack of damage sustained. “But now we’ll kill you, anyway.”

He raised his sword as he sprinted toward me, brief panic shuddering through me at my lack of defenses. Green and the Hellhound were facing off, frustration in the man’s face at not being able to assist his duo partner as my summon kept him at bay with the threat of sharp jaws.

How best to avoid a sword swing? I was woefully unprepared. I neither had the Agility to really dodge, nor anything sturdy enough to hold in the way of the blade. Accepting my fate seemed like a poor choice, but there wasn’t a lot of illusion in my back pocket to deflect a sharpened hunk of metal.

His attack was heavily telegraphed, the intention to slam the sharp edge of his weapon straight into my torso almost as clear and to the point that he could have told me prior. I leaned away from it as my right hand went up, a handful of [Slime Gel] thrown and obscuring his vision just as his strike landed. The angle of his distracted slash was enough to bite through my suit and into my chest, but not cut too deep.

"Asshole," he growled, wiping away the gel with the back of his arm. Enough time for me to withdraw a card. There was a rustle of leaves behind me. Hopefully a spooked wild animal and not a third Player come to knock my brains in.

At this short distance, I didn't have much choice where to fling it other than straight at him. With my hound tying up the other thug, I would only have a couple of chances before things turned in the favor of the one with an actual weapon. The purple light flicked out toward him as he stabilized himself, and he raised his sword to block the projectile. Illuminating the blade, the card hissed as it slid from the weapon and scored a line of crimson along the back of his forearm.

Not enough damage. He grimaced through the pain and lashed out with the hilt to punch at me. My arms raised, and I blocked it. Numbness flooded down my left forearm as I staggered backward. His eyes were now aglow with a predatory malice. With a flourish, his sword took on a red sheen to it. His body tensed and then he leaped toward me.

The sound of air being cut tore through the clearing, a sharp sound moving at speed ever nearer to my position. I saw Red’s eyes widen as I watched the glowing sword curve down toward me. The flash of pain across his face came as a shock to us both. He looked past me as his attack faltered and the color drained from his sword just as quickly as it did from his face.

A figure dropped down from one of the trees just to the back of me and rolled across the grass. In my peripheral, I saw them bring a bow up and pull back another arrow.

“Shit, it’s that crazy bitch!” Green yelled. “Run!”

Red stumbled before me, falling short of introducing me to his blade as he looked down at the arrow lodged in his side. There was anger in his eyes as he looked back up at me, but also indecision - this close to his quarry and yet having to escape. But could he escape now?

He would certainly try. His own life in this moment was worth more than whatever possessions I may hold.

Green stumbled over my Hellhound as he went to make his escape. In trying to bat the demon away, it instead latched onto his outstretched arm, tugging at his sleeve. Red turned from me and made the movements to run, but his body had become sluggish and unresponsive. The pulse of radiant energy flared across the clearing from the intruding figure to my right, and a glowing golden arrow struck the leather-armored man in the head, imbedding through the back of his skull.

I may not know much about how this System works, but I knew that getting a solid object through the brain was a short sentence. Punctuated by death. Ah, my introspection was still a little rusty. For what was only a few short seconds I had become a magician's rabbit caught in the stage lights and had barely moved an inch, yet bore fewer wounds from my indecision than was expected.

As my hound pulled on the man, blood ran down his hands as the demon found purchase - and then I saw it, the perfect opening. My hand touched the deck and then a purple card was in the air, spinning almost as if in slow motion across the clearing.

Much greater than fifteen feet, but the card continued despite going beyond the signaled limitations. A twinge of pain ran down my fingers. Yet I watched, almost as though my will guided the projectile, as it slit across the man’s exposed throat while he was busy trying to wrench away the Hellhound. A crimson line grew from where the purple energy faded away.

Not an especially deep cut, but his shock caused him to grasp at the wound by reflex, allowing the demon to assail him unhindered. After tearing a shred from his arm, it leaped and latched onto his bloodied neck, the crunch of his windpipe soon following gurgles as he slumped to the ground, the hound growling all the while.

I turned to raise an eyebrow at my supposed savior to see if I was about to receive a pointed hello as well - but also to avoid having to stare at my demon eating through the freshly served corpse. Even if I was no stranger to violence in my previous life… one of my previous lives… it didn’t mean I had to take any joy in it. Part of me knew I was contented by it. The thugs had chosen their part to play in the show, and although I wasn’t center stage for the performance, their display had been admirable.

The figure stood up to scowl at me.

An... elven woman, if what I knew about fantasy tropes held any weight. Radiant blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Her leather armor of muted forest tones was padded and muddied - some leaves and errant twigs still stuck to it after bursting from her hiding place. I had not seen an elf before, of course, but from the pointy ears and other context clues I felt confident at my assumption. Although, I never imagined them having so much tangible disdain to express.

“I owe you my thanks,” I bowed. “Max, at your service.”

“Manners don’t get you anywhere in this life.” She crossed her arms and glared at me, undeterred by attempt to escape her ire.

“Perhaps not, but they are still freely given.” I smiled, despite the daggers she continued to stare at me. Not aggressive - but still growing tired of my presence. A tough crowd, but I’d had a few in my life previously. “What do I call you, Miss…”

“I’d rather you didn’t at all.” She huffed and glanced over at my hound chewing through the would-be assassins. Sliding right past my question, she instead leveled her own statement. “Summoners are pretty rare.”

As much as I wanted to take that as a compliment, that sounded much more like a warning. Surely if these two louts happened to want to pry my magic item from my cold dead hands, then they wouldn’t be the only ones. The elf was hard to read at first, with the constant scowl, but she didn’t seem interested in what I had. Or I would have been next on the list to be filled with an arrow. Something I was even less prepared to defend against.

Eventually I relented, as she didn’t seem keen to fill more of the empty space in the conversation. “Apparently so. Worth killing over, it seems.”

“A lot of things are, a lot of things aren’t.” She remained staring at my summon as if lost in some thought.

It would be nice to have an almost-friendly face show me the ropes, although it looked like it would be a hard sell. If I could gain some information, that would be the second best thing, so I took my shot at the risk of annoying her away. “Why were you in the tree waiting for them?”

“They would have seen me if I were sitting at a table.” She rolled her eyes and turned back to me. “Assholes have been a problem around here for a bit, so staking out some of the first Quest objectives seemed like the best way to catch them in the act.”

“And they recognized you?”

“I’m not here to give you my life story, magic-man.” She sighed, her bright eyes burning through me. The first step in our parlay was reached, as she begrudgingly relented her name to me. “…Ren.”

I nodded politely, not wanting to give her reason to regret divulging that information. “I’m rather new here. Is it too presumptuous to ask someone’s level?”

“Four.” She looked as though she would cross her arms if she weren’t already doing it. “I could be higher, but…” Briefly her mouth opened and closed before she shook her head.

A strong ally would be worth their weight in gold, whether I was aiming for fame or escape. She was the highest level I had seen so far and not only saved my life, but was engaging in… tense conversation without wanting to put an arrow through my neck. Practically best friends.

“I won’t pry,” I attempted to reassure her. "But I was looking for a group to Quest with."

She shook her head. “I work alone.”

There was an air of finality to the statement. She bore some weight for that decision, and I wondered if that was the cause of her prickly nature. “There must be something I can trade for information, though?”

She eyed me up, searching me for something that may be worth her time. “You just got Adventurers Kits, correct?”

“Something you wanted from them?” I hadn’t had the chance to check with the interruption of the two thugs. “Just received three.”

“Yeah…” the words seemed to be held back briefly. “There’s a type of cake you can only get in them, and I haven’t had one for ages.” Rather than appear embarrassed, she simply scowled at me harder.

“I’ll give you all I have if you tell me your story, or at least some information.”

I couldn’t tell whether the growl that emanated from her was because of her ire, or her hungry stomach anticipation of the snack she craved. Her jaw worked in trying to decide if it was worth her time.

“Fine.” She finally relented. “But the first time you interrupt me - I walk away.”

With a grin, I spun open my Inventory window. “Deal.”