That night he didn’t sleep.

Nic stood at the edge of the lake, feeling out the bow’s balance and strength as he sent arrows flying towards the far shore. Each arrow left the bow with a resonant note, passed over the waters as a darting shadow, and flew deep into the forest beyond.

Not quite where he was aiming. An old oak at the edge of the water had become his aim, but…

Bows were a little trickier than blades. They had more character. Over such a long distance, the weight and the strength of each individual bow would alter the arrow’s flight.

He frowned, shifting how he held the bow. Another miss.

This time, he could at least blame movement at the edge of his vision for distracting him.

Shakes was walking along the lake’s edge. Tarquin’s second-in-command was pale, weak looking, and always held a vague smirk that just…

Set Nic’s soul on edge.

“Practicing?” He asked.

“Yep.” Nic croaked. He didn’t bother to summon Inkspur. The little wyvern was off hunting, and he didn’t really want to talk anyway. Bracing himself, he prepared another arrow, squinting his organic eye shut. The diagrams of the Archive filled his vision and gently guided his trajectory.

“Square your footing a little more.” Shakes said.

Nic ignored him. The arrow flew- and missed. With a soft ‘tch’ of annoyance, Nic reached for another.

Shakes drew his own bow. Setting his feet, and pausing for a moment to feel out the wind, he drew his own shot into place. The bowstring sung-

The arrow leapt over the lake, cutting a long arc. It thudded into the oak tree’s heart.

“I used to practice like a madman.” Shakes admitted. He drew another arrow and planted it, easily, above the first. “Every day. Till my fingers were shaking.”

“Nak.” Nic said. It was all he could say, presently.

He followed Shakes’ advice and shifted his footing up. The diagrams from the Archive responded with approval.

“My mother- when I had her- she was just a maid. Eventually she got sick. But she told me, well, that my father was someone special. A warrior. A cultivator. And I figured…”

His fingers were fast on the bow string. As Nic lined up his next shot, Shakes had already let two more loose, and with a certain thumping rhythm they joined the first two in making a neat line up the tree’s trunk…

Nic fired. This time, he at least landed in the oak’s roots. A little low. But only a little.

“I figured it would all work out, if I got strong. That I’d be able to claw my way out of that miserable little orphanage. That I’d meet my father and prove I was worth accepting…”

“Nak.” Nic said, sympathetically.

“But of course that was just a fairytale. I never had a chance, back there.”

“Nak.” Nic said, understanding.

“So thanks. For the chance to be someone.” He waved his hand, and his shadow rose from the ground, becoming a sharp-limbed imitation of a human being. The wraith floated across the lake to collect their arrows.

Nic was impressed. He knew that Shakes had a summoning shard that he’d fused with the Wasteland Shard, creating a shadowy double that could steal strength from its enemies. But controlling a summon over that much distance?

Impressive.

“Good talk.” Shakes said, and continued on his way.

Drawing the bow one final time, Nic let out a sigh of satisfaction as the arrow crossed the lake, its shadow trailing beneath it over the calm waters. He already knew it would be a perfect bullseye…

Reaching into his bag, he drew out the golden droplet that contained the insignia of power. The question was…

Use it now, on Hollowsong? It was his latest crafted piece and likely his most powerful.

Or save it for the future…

---

As the next morning dawned, a crow swept around the field before returning to land on Nic’s outstretched hand.

“No oo-oone in sii-iight boo-oss…” The dark bird croaked. Nic could only let out a sigh. The other Settlements had to have sent people here…

Not seeing them just made the situation more worrying. As the sun rose, the forest was revealed, and Nic waited with held breath.

As the sun fully reached above the forest…

Seven pillars of light burst into the sky. They outlined the edge of the vast and grassy field where the hunt was to take place.

Please step back.

The hunters and Nic hurriedly retreated behind the nearest pillar, waiting, watching…

The earth underfoot began to shift. A sudden quake sent shocks rumbling underfoot, and a massive fracture cracked open across the field’s center. Grass, soil, and stone all tilted over the edge of the new fissure, falling away as it widened and widened. Smaller cracks radiated out from the initial breach and the earth began to churn as if being torn apart by unseen hands.

The entire field was being carved out.

Dust rose into the air, making his human companions choke out coughs and cover their faces, while Nic relied on his Eight-Eyed Mantle to search for threats. There was nothing. As the dust settled again, the sheer scope of what had happened became clear…

The entire field had been destroyed. In its place was a deep, dark valley, with walls of exposed stone. Narrow and winding pathways ran down the far wall, branching out between small landings and the mouths of caves that led deeper into the earth. Every so often there was a ledge that ringed the entire valley, creating a kind of ‘step’-

A giant could simply walk down like a set of stairs.

The hunting ground is set.

The slaughter shall begin shortly, and last for three days and nights.

In this time, the faction and the individual competitors with the highest number of kills will be rewarded. In addition, there are many rich veins of precious materials within the hunting ground. These rewards shall go to those with the power to claim them.

As for the creatures…

When they slay five of their own kind, they will advance a Class. When they slay fifty of their own kind, they will advance again. When they have slain five hundred, they will advance to D-Class and their final form. At any stage in their evolution they will be worth the sum total points of those they’ve killed.

At any time, killing an Invader or Native will allow them to advance instantly.

These are the rules set forth.

The System blesses you and your path.

The words echoed through every mind simultaneously…

And the sky split open.

Eight massive doorways of absolute black opened above them. From each of the doorways, a stream of small, ugly creatures came tumbling out. It was if the sky itself was falling- a wave of monsters descending from above.

They slammed into the earth and immediately began to rise up, clawing at their own bodies in panic.

They were hideous.

At first, as huge lumps of monsters fought together, Nic struggled to see the shape of any one of them. But as one creature broke free of the rest, Nic finally got a clear look.

It was a hunched, ugly humanoid no taller than he was, with pebbled red-black skin. Its body was covered by lumps of volcanic stone that were cracked open with living fire, burning its flesh brutally where they attached like an inescapable armor. Over its face, locked in place like a muzzle, was a long conical beak with six round openings down its length that bled out fire and embers.

Galvanic Wretch. G-Class // Sapient. These miserable creatures are created by the intrusion of parasitic elements onto the bodies of common goblinoids. Constantly tormented by volcanic stone that clings to their flesh and burns them alive, they fight by numbers rather than strength.

Nic didn’t hesitate.

The creatures were coming down in waterfalls. Three of the doors were above the outer edges of the valley, sending the creatures slamming into the earth to fight and claw at each other. The other five poured directly into the pit…

“FORWARD!” He roared through Inkspur, and took off running.

Five to evolve once. Fifty to evolve again.

There were hundreds upon hundreds.

If they didn’t cull the herd quickly, the herd would give rise to creatures that outranked him in under an hour. Creatures that could threaten a whole Settlement in less than a day…

Nic reached the first mass of creatures, their limbs tangled together as they fought for survival. His foot slammed into the earth and drew him to a halt as he spat out a long, swirling cone of deadly mist. Instantly, they died- they screamed out a final time before the fires in their bodies were extinguished, and their flesh collapsed into ash.

One lunged for him, but it only advanced three steps before turning to stone and then to dust, its legs crumbling underneath it.

Behind him the humans rushed in. The survivors of the Primordial Mist, the ones who had escaped from the pit of limbs before Nic could kill all trapped inside, were scattering in all directions. Arrows and other projectiles cut them down.

Lou, the halberd-man who wielded frost, crashed into the midst of five. A chilling wind slowed their movements as they tried to turn against him. His spear struck out, a golden light surrounding the blade and letting each blow build a furious momentum into the next, his own movements accelerating as his enemies were dragged to a crawl…

A jawbone went flying as the polearm hacked through a skull. Another was split in half. In five blows, five were dead…

Nic darted through and killed the sixth creeping up on him. He’d transformed the resonant greatsword to its fastest form, the wind-blade, ideal for quick culling.

He swept through like a killing wind himself. Quick, efficient cuts skewered the creatures through their scrawny chests, or hacked them into so much meat. With every step Nic surrounded himself in a world of red slaughter. He was vaguely aware that he was killing people…

But he’d seen the madness, the chaos, the desperate anger with which the creatures had torn at their own kind. They were mad dogs…

He put remorse aside and let his body work, his muscles strain, his sword dance. Red flecks filled the air around him, blood and sparks from the bodies he dismembered.

In the distance, an escaping wretch was caught by one of its brothers. Hands clamped around its ankle and dragged it backwards, a stone was lifted as a crude killing tool, and one quick blow caved in the unfortunate creature’s skull.

It was the killer’s fifth blood.

It began to change.

Its back hunched, spine pressing against its mottled red skin as muscles heaved into being, swelling out around its scrawny frame. A membrane of leathery orange spread between its arms and the sides of its torso, forming gliding wings, while its legs crunched and snapped, growing out into strong limbs capable of rending with the claws and talons that extended from each toe.

It let out a shriek of triumph, flame venting from its muzzle.

The beast tried to shoot up into the air.

Slamming his blade into the earth, Nic kicked the nearest wretch aside while he drew his bow from his bag, grasped an arrow, and lifted both to take aim. The winged wretch was gaining altitude fast, fires surrounding its wings as they beat frantically at the air to push it upwards towards freedom.

He fired and the arrow went spiraling out on a perfect course. It intersected the beast’s flight, and with a panicked scream, the winged wretch began to fall.

Nic didn’t have time to enjoy the victory.

His danger-sense had begun to scream, as death came for him from his blind spot. He turned-

And saw an assassin’s blade flicking towards his throat.