Your Level has decreased by one. By retreating from the Reliquary of Bones, you have lost one point in Body and Awareness.

  Saul burst out of the wall of gray fog, feeling like he had whenever the DA had to shut down a case due to ‘lack of evidence.’ The Voltsmith was inside with the Tyrant Queen; he’d fought with it for almost a half hour before realizing he wasn’t going to win, and Hal Riley wasn’t his equal. He’d done the set-up—baited him into a trap with Jessica as the bait—and now the jaws were closing on Hal.

  “Guards! To me!” he shouted. He waited a heartbeat. Two. Then he looked around. Trevors was dead. So were the few bikers he’d left behind. He shut his eyes for another heartbeat. Those fuckers. Those dumb motherfuckers. He’d told them to get out of the way if anyone tried to get inside, and they’d fought back anyway. He expected it from the gangsters. Not so much from Trevors.

  A thought struck him. A horrible thought. He pulled up his stat menu—not the fake one with the Administrator class, but the Fixer one he’d really gotten. That epic class came with two features. The first hid its name behind a false one. And the second…

  Saul Williams: Level Forty-One

  Class: Fixer

  “God dammit,” he said. He’d lost too many lackeys, and the levels they’d granted him when they’d cleared a dungeon were gone. He was only a level higher than the Voltsmith. Saul laughed bitterly as he readied the Sword of Forgotten Pharaohs. He’d been ambitious. Too ambitious; he’d assumed all the Tier Two dungeons were as easy as the Void.

  It had cost him, and he filed that away. Once he killed Hal Riley, he could set up a new group of lackeys and narcs willing to betray their people for a single level of power. He’d fix the fights he had to, rebuild from the ground up. This was a setback, but Saul had always been ambitious.

  He just had to win this one fight, in his throne room. Then he’d make Jessica and the girl pay.

  He lifted his sword over his head, waiting for the Voltsmith to step through the fog gate and into his throne room. One strike, and it’d be over. Then, he could set up the pieces so they fell the way he needed them to. They always did; he was smart enough to see the opportunities and quick enough on his feet to roll with them.

  Something slid through the Reliquary’s doors and cartwheeled down the stairs. Even Saul’s reflexes were too slow; the Sword of Forgotten Pharaohs caught nothing but marble as he swung it.

  Your Level has decreased by one. By retreating from the Reliquary of Bones, you have lost one point in Body and Awareness.

  I rolled, trying to right myself as The Captain’s sword flashed down toward me. The Trip-Hammer got in the way when I was still on my knees; the blow rang my wrists and elbows from the impact. I hit the stairs and tumbled down them headlong.

  Tori was gone. So was Jessica. I hit the bottom step and stopped. They’d had the common sense to get out of here and leave The Captain to me. Or leave me to The Captain. Either way was fine. Either way, they were safe.

  The Captain wasn’t.

  “Half of humanity’s already dead, and you want to kill the rest? Don’t you realize what you’re doing?” I roared. My vision blacked as I pushed myself to my feet and readied the Trip-Hammer. My body ached from my desperate slide and its consequences; I’d have bruises all down my front tomorrow. But right now, I just wanted to break the Captain’s grip on Museumtown and keep my people safe. He was a problem, and every problem had a solution. Eddie had taught me that sometimes, the solution was death.

  I saw the Captain. His nameplate had changed.

  Saul Williams: Level Forty-One

  Class: Fight Fixer

  I stared. He did know what he was doing. He knew exactly what he was doing.

  Then I charged up the stairs, Trip-Hammer revving as I poured Charge into its motor. Both hammers lashed out. The first caught the blade, gouging its sharpened blade near Saul’s grip. The second smashed into the marble steps below. Spiderweb cracks rocketed across the step, and my arms shook from the impact—just like they had when I’d tried to hit the Tyrant Queen.

  Saul’s sword whipped toward my face. I got the Trip-Hammer’s handle between it and me, but he kept pushing. He wasn’t stronger than me, but when I fired my hammerheads, his head was inches from the ratcheted claws. “You’re in the way. I’m going to fix everything, for everyone,” Saul said.

  “You’re killing people! Good people!” I broke free, swung the Trip-Hammer, and fired it again. He blocked, swung his blade, and we traded blows. I checked the Voltsmith’s Grasp as Saul swung in.

  Stored Charge: 3/15

  0/3 Taser Launchers Loaded

  It was ramping up for another shock grip, but it wouldn’t be for a while—and I’d used my Tasers to stop him from killing Jessica. I needed something—an edge.

  I backed across the landing at the top of the stairs. Saul’s sword sliced in, and I was a beat too slow. The blade caught my chest. It didn’t cut deep, but it stung. I grit my teeth, fired the Trip-Hammer, and swung.

  He was moving before the engine finished revving, and the ratchets clicked. I caught nothing but air and marble. Then I swung again, as much to buy some space to think as to land a hit.

  Saul didn’t give me that space. He pressed in with his sword, trying to get inside my reach, but the Trip-Hammer’s arc was wide, and I knocked him aside. I expected him to back off, but he rolled toward me, cutting the air in front of my face before ducking as the Trip-Hammer’s ratchets clicked again.

  This time, Saul’s throne exploded. It didn’t shatter so much as vaporize as both hammers hit it one after another. Splinters the size of my arm flew everywhere, stuffing exploded across the stairs, and shards of twisted metal sprayed into the fog gate behind it.

  The fog gate.

  My eyes widened. I couldn’t fight faster than Saul. He kept reacting to the Trip-Hammer’s activation sound, and he was fast enough to get out of the way every time. I’d only landed a couple of glancing blows, and he’d cut right through my armor.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  But I could force him into a fight he couldn’t win—and a choice he couldn’t get anything out of, no matter what he picked.

  It’d take some effort. A lot of effort.

  It’d be worth it, though.

  I pushed my Body to the limit, revving the Trip-Hammer as I slammed it into the spaces Saul had just been over and over. Saul’s sword flashed out and opened more cuts across my arms and face, but I ignored them. None of them were lethal, and none did much to slow me down. My goal wasn’t to hit the bastard. It was just to push him into the fog gate.

  He realized what I was doing and launched his own series of attacks, trying to break out of my closing trap. The wounds stacked up, and blood slicked the shattered marble stairs. It dripped down my face from a cut across my scalp. My whole body screamed in pain and impending revolt, but I kept swinging.

  The Trip-Hammer went up.

  Saul’s sword flashed down.

  My leg caught fire. I looked down as I collapsed; his stroke had caught something important. I tried to push myself back to my feet, but my thigh wouldn’t take my weight. So, that wasn’t good.

  But the blow had cost Saul, too. The Trip-Hammer clattered down the stairs, idling, its heads covered in gore. I could see the shattered wreckage of bone sticking from his right arm, and his side had been ripped open just above his hip.

  I used the Quick-Hoof Boots and slammed into him, driving my shoulder into his shattered arm.

  I bounced off and hit the floor. Hard. He screamed and staggered backward into the Reliquary of Bones, but kept a hold on his sword. I’d gotten the second or two I needed, and I breathed once to regroup.

  He wasn’t dead, and unless the Queen Tyrant killed him, he’d be back. I needed my weapon. I needed…I looked at my leg; blood gushed from it like a fountain, and I reached down with one hand to stop the flow.

  It didn’t help.

  A second later, Saul stepped back through the dungeon entrance, a furious grin on his face. I tried to drag myself down the stairs toward my weapon, but the movement only opened the wound on my leg more. Instead, I lay still and checked the Voltsmith’s Grasp.

  Stored Charge: 4/15

  0/3 Taser Launchers Loaded

  I grit my teeth as Saul stalked closer to me, talking up a storm. I’d only get one shot at this.

  Saul grinned through the pain. The Voltsmith’s hammer clattered to the bottom of the stairs. Hal knelt on the steps, defenseless, the cut on his thigh bleeding gushes of bright red, arterial blood. His own arm was broken, and he shifted the Sword of Forgotten Pharaohs into his left hand. It felt awkward. Saul grinned anyway.

  “This is how it’s going to be in this world, Hal,” he said. “Power belongs to those who can set themselves up with it, and until this is over, that’s people like me. I’m fixing the odds, making deals and bets where I can win them, and I’m going to come out on top. Men like you? You’re stepping stones and relics of a kinder world.”

  He didn’t need grace to finish off a wounded rat, and Hal’s experience would fix Saul’s injuries. He held the sword in the air and cast Dauntless Dominion—the Sword of Forgotten Pharoahs’s ingrained spell. It glowed white as he poured all his magic into it. Then he brought it down with a crash.

  The impact jarred his wrist, and his grip slipped. The pure white magic burst out of the sword’s blade, covering everything from the hilt up in a wall of burning energy. Saul closed his eyes against the brightness. He waited for the experience orb to hit him and his arm to start fixing itself. He’d used Dauntless Dominion on every ‘Elite’ monster in the Reliquary of Bones, and not one of them had stood up to it.

  Something wrenched the blade from his hand.

  His heart stopped. He opened his eyes. “Impossible.”

  Crackling orange lightning covered his sword; he’d cut Hal’s hand almost to mid-palm, cleaved it almost in two, right between the middle and ring fingers, but the gauntlet had stopped the blow. Not only that, but the Voltsmith had tightened his grip somehow.

  Saul stared at the man’s face. It was a mask of pain, anger, and something else. “Sometimes, an engine can’t be fixed. Sometimes, scrapping the car’s the only solution.”

  His stomach dropped, and he looked at the sword.

  It wasn’t magical anymore. It wasn’t anything but a piece of half-melted metal. Hal threw it down the stairs as Saul lunged for it. Hal screamed as he pushed his body off the stairs, then screamed again as his thumb and first two fingers closed around Saul’s ankle.

  Saul jerked away, but the man’s grip held tight. Orange lightning poured into his leg. Every nerve in his body was on fire. He couldn’t believe the pain; he collapsed, twitching and jarring his shattered humerus. Flesh tore and burned and convulsed all at once, and his scream echoed Hal’s. Then another wave of electricity surged through him. His heart stopped.

  “Wait,” Saul slurred. He slid down the stairs, still twitching even as his heart beat again, this time faster than it had any right to. His eyes were wide. “Wait, no, let’s talk. Let’s make a deal, I can—fuck!” He hit the bottom of the stairs, and the Voltsmith landed on top of him a moment later. His arm snapped again.

  The hammer.

  He had to get to the hammer before Hal. But his legs wouldn’t move right, and his arm was busted. He couldn’t even turn his head to look for it. Something shuffled, and the Voltsmith slid off of him. Then an engine revved, a ratchet clicked, and Saul Williams died.

  I crawled toward the blood-red experience orb. It was only a few feet away, but it still took all my strength to get there. I’d questioned whether to take Eddie’s, but in this case, it was a matter of life and death—and not just for me. I still didn’t know where Jessica was, and as for Tori? She’d vanished. Hopefully, some gangster hadn’t gotten Jessica. Hopefully, we hadn’t left any behind us. Hopefully—I couldn’t finish the thought.

  The experience orb hit me like a breath of wind.

  Level Up! Thirty-Seven to Forty.

  For defeating a Safe Zone’s leader, you have been granted control over its growth. Congratulations, Mayor Hal Riley. For more information, access the Settlement tab in your stat menu.

  I didn’t care about the safe zone. I didn’t think about my long-term goals. None of that mattered; every point went into Body, and I felt my leg, hand, and the dozens of cuts I’d taken stitch themselves together in agonizing detail. The flow of blood stopped, and I rolled onto my back, stretching out and staring at the fortress’s ceiling. I breathed. Then, I pushed myself to my feet.

  This wasn’t over yet. But it was close.

  I hefted the Trip-Hammer over my shoulder, picked up the three rare blue items Saul had dropped, and started climbing the tower. During the fight, I’d heard something, and if I was right, I knew exactly who it’d be.

  Tori had failed.

  Tommy had gotten away. She hadn’t killed him.

  But Jessica was safe. Tori pressed her hand against her mom’s face, trying to stop the bleeding. She had no idea why Jessica had run up the stairs, but it had cost Tori the chance to kill Tommy Wright. She didn’t care. What mattered was that her mom was okay.

  “Why aren’t you healing?” Tori asked. “You can heal anyone, so heal yourself.”

  “No, I can’t. I used everything I had, Tori.” Jessica curled into a ball, her head on her step-daughter’s lap. “And even if I hadn’t, that’s not how my spells work. I can’t target myself—only other people. Now, help me up and get me back to my house. There’s someone there, and he might still be alive. I’ll try to keep him that way until—“

  “He’s dead, Mom.” She didn’t care that Jessica wasn’t her mom—not in the moment. She probably would tomorrow, but not right now. “We went there first, then came here when…”

  “Oh.” Jessica went quiet, and if Tori couldn’t see her breathing, she’d have thought she was dead.

  “Tori, you okay?”

  Tori jerked to her feet and bit back a scream. Hal stood in the doorway. His leather armor had been on its last leg long before tonight, but now it hung from one shoulder. The rest was in tatters, and it was stained blood-red. So was every inch of fabric below his waist on the right side. “What the fuck? Hal, what the fuck happened? You look like shit.” She didn’t care that Jessica didn’t want her swearing—right now felt like a swearing moment.

  He shrugged. “I solved the problem.” The Trip-Hammer’s head thudded down on the rough wooden floor, and Hal knelt next to Tori’s mom. He glanced at Tori. She nodded quietly, and he picked the woman up. The Trip-Hammer slid into his inventory.

  The faint light of dawn peeked over Lake Michigan as Hal carried Jessica out of Saul William’s fortress and toward the elevated trailer she called home.

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