The sun was rising on a new day. People who proudly call themselves morning people are swiftly getting ready for the day. A handful of these people were crazed zealots. A group of believers from the Order of Nobility were dragging people out of their homes to burn them at the stake. They had used their ability to wake at the crack of dawn to ambush people in their homes. Stakes were set atop wood to be burned as a pyre and waiting for nonbelievers to be tied to them. Among them are two men armed with wood cutting axes. They were simply waiting and talking.

  “Hey man. Do you ever wonder if we’re the baddies?” one man asked the other.

  “No. Why would you ask that?” the other says.

  “Well, we’re grabbing our neighbors and burning them alive. You ever think that we might be doing something evil?”

  “Pshaw! Not a chance. Besides, how else are we supposed to get demons to hop out of people’s mouths without burning them alive?”

  “Eh, well, I guess.”

  Their discussion was interrupted as another zealot rushed up to them.

  “Hey! You two! Hurry up and… do… something…” the man demanded.

  “Calm down. We’re already done. See! 28 pyres ready to go.” the man gestured to his and his friend’s work.

  “Wha- you’re telling me you’re done?”

  “Yeah!”

  “We’ve been here for, like, 2 minutes. You’re saying that you finished putting together all the pyres already?”

  “Yes! What do you want me to do? Number them for you? Write everyone’s names on them?”

  “Are you sassing me?”

  “What do you want me to do, man? We did our job! We’re waiting for you guys!”

  “Ugh! Forget it. If you’re so fast, go over to that house over there. Vert family I think. Husband, wife and daughter. Grab ‘em and tie them to some stakes.”

  “Aw, come on!” one man throws his hands up, clearly frustrated.

  “Well, this is why you don’t put in your full effort. Once someone sees you work hard enough to finish early, they give you even more work.” his friend pats him on the shoulder.

  “Whatever. Let’s go pull a family out of their home to burn them at the stake.”

  “Right, we got off topic. Are we the baddies?”

  There is a long pause between the three men. To interrupt the long pause, men begin shouting and screaming down the street.

  “It’s Ren! It’s Blue Pine’s favorite adventurer!!!” a man shouted in the distance.

  “Oh! That’s a problem.”

  “Hah! What problem? I don’t see a problem at all. With the power of nobility at our side, no one can get in our way.”

  The group look over in the direction of the fellows and see them being bisected. Men cut in half one after another.

  “Okay, maybe that’s a problem.”

  “I’m going to run back to the temple and warn everyone.”

  “Yeah, let’s all go warn high priest Parnidot.”

  “No argument from me.”

  The three men turn to leave until Ren appears behind one of them and drives her sword through his back. The poor soul goes wide eyed and screams. Sensing death approaching, the other two swiftly turn to leave and flee with all the speed they could muster.

  “So much fresh mortal blood in the morning.” Ren says.

  At those words, a door to a home opens and a little girl with brown hair steps out. It is Sally Vert.

  “Hi, Ren!”

  “Hi, Sally! You’re up early.”

  The two greet each other. Ren still had her sword driven through a man’s back. The other two men handily escape Ren. Sally begins to step out of her home.

  “No, Sally.” Ren says. “Go back inside. It’s dangerous out here.”

  “Aw.” Sally whines.

  “Be a good girl and wait inside with your parents.” Ren says.

  “Okay. But promise me that you’ll play with me again? And bring Velaura too!”

  “Velaura?” Ren asked.

  “Yep! Velaura and I have been playing together. She’s really nice and fun.”

  “Okay. Next time, okay.”

  “Okay!”

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  Sally closes the door to her home. With her returning inside, Ren pulls the sword out and drives it back into the man’s back again. He squeals and flails with his dying breath. She stabs the man a few times until a voice in her head no longer determines that the man’s blood is fresh blood. With as many enemies as Ren could find dead or dying in the street, she starts down the street to where she is supposed to meet her allies.

  “Okay so… they’re boarding up the windows, barricading the doors, arming themselves and generally just preparing for battle. After everything we did to keep our assault today a secret. We either have a mole selling us out or someone alerted them.”

  Lutz Albrinter was looking around a corner at the temple in Blue Pine town. He was watching the Order of Nobility run around and preparing to defend against an assault.

  “Why is this happening?” Lutz Albrinter shakes his head.

  “Hello!” Ren called out.

  It was Ren. Somehow she was already covered in blood. It was not even 15 minutes after the crack of dawn and somehow Ren was covered in blood.

  “What happened to you?” Lutz asked.

  “Oh, I ran into some enemies on my way here. So I stabbed a few. Then a friend came by to say hi, and a few of them ran away to warn their allies while I caught up with my friend.” Ren said without a hint of urgency or any other emotional tone to her voice.

  There was a brief silence. Lutz and a few other people beside him were in various states of shock and frustration.

  “Well, thanks for mucking up the whole thing. Let’s retreat and try again another day.” Lutz shakes his head and begins to walk back home.

  “It’s okay. We can still attack them.” Ren says.

  “Are you kidding me? Look at them!” Lutz points at the temple.

  Ren looks over the temple. She also starts lightly jogging toward the temple.

  “Holy shit! She’s here!!!”

  A defender shouts and the carnage begins. Namely, Ren starts stabbing and slashing at people like a farmer cuts wheat stalks. Horrid screams and blood erupt in front of her. In a matter of seconds, she stands before the barricaded front entrance of the temple. They were barred and barricaded.

  Ren learned Magic Impact Level 1.

  Ren learned Magic Impact Level 3. Level capacity has been met. Level up to increase level capacity.

  With few defenders standing and second guessing their ability to defeat their assailant, Ren calmly jogs over to the temple doors and lays a hand on it.

  “Magic Impact!”

  The doors cracked under a great force created at the tip of Ren’s fingers. The wooden doors cracked and chipped, but held after the spell.

  “Magic Impact!”

  This second spell forced the doors wide open. The Albrinters and everyone following them peer out to see the massacre Ren had performed before such a holy site.

  “Well shit.” Sardon Albrinter says. “Alright, boys and girls, Parnidot is back on the menu! Form up on me!”

  Sardon Albrinter and his crew made of exclusively musketeers walked out and stand in a line.

  “Scare the daylights out of them. Don’t worry about anyone who breaks formation. Just blow them to bits.” Sardon shouts.

  “They’re in a formation?” Velaura asked.

  Looking out at the front of the temple, there was nothing that could be remotely called a formation. Just a scattered mass of enemies after Ren blew through them.

  “Sardon, no one is there.” Perschale shouts to her older brother.

  “Shut up!” Sardon shouts back to his sister. “Fire!”

  The musketeers fire at whatever they can at the temple. If nothing else, some defenders were intimidated and hesitated before marching out of the temple and into gunfire.

  “And now while you’re taking a day to reload, me and my troops are going to actually do something.” Gilligan Albrinter shoots a grin at his older brother. “Come on! Tanks are first to go through the door. Keep a tight formation. Get ready to help each other in the blink of an eye.”

  Men and women in armor and robes begin to approach the temple. Armed with swords, bows and wands they prepare to meet any threat head on.

  “Gilligan! Stop your troops!” Lutz shouts. “Above! Above!!!”

  Gilligan looks upward at the temple. From ornate stained glass windows, hands stuck out holding lit sticks of dynamite. The hands simply let go of the sticks and they began to fall down towards the crowd.

  “Shit! Run!” Gilligan commands.

  The crowd begin to scatter, or at least try to. Many of them panic and bump into each other. No one is running in the same direction and they are slowed to a halt.

  “Everyone! Fall back to me!” Perschale shouts.

  The crowd now knows where to go! They all return to where Perschale called to them. When the dynamite explodes, few are caught in the blast, but most of Gilligan’s forward force escapes the blast.

  “Gilligan, when you command troops, you have to say more than ‘run’. Perschale says. “You have to tell them where to go so they can move as one.”

  Perschale takes out her pistol and fires at the second floor windows. The bullet goes through the glass easily enough, but it is impossible to see if it hit anyone.

  “Fire at those windows!” Sardon shouts.

  “No! Hold your fire!” Lutz shouts.

  Sardon’s Musketeers ignore Lutz and begin to fire on the second story windows. Bullets hit the walls of the temple and glass shatters as bullets rip through them.

  “Damn it, Sardon.” Lutz cusses.

  “What, do you suddenly have a problem with me shooting at our enemies?” Sardon scowled at the eldest brother.

  “You could have used that gunfire to cover our approach so they don’t pull the same dynamite trick twice.” Lutz shouts.

  “And why should I?” Sardon says.

  “Would you shut up and help?” Velaura shouts. “We’re on your side, idiot!”

  “Tch. Brat.” Sardon scowls under his breath.

  “Halerd! Unwo! Velaura! Help me with the wounded.” Perschale shouts.

  The three youngest of the Albrinter family go off to help those in need along with the eldest sister.

  “Well, I’m glad the babies are going to bed.” Sardone scoffs.

  “For fuck’s sake. Can you not be a dick, for 10 seconds?” Gilligan shouts.

  “God’s fucking damn it.” Lutz cusses under his breath. “We should’ve just turned back and tried again some other day.”

  “Stop complaining, and move your ass.” Gilligan says.

  Gilligan hefts his sword and shield and returns to the fighters in his service.

  “Holy shit! It’s Ren!” a member of the order shouts.

  “I don’t get what the big fuss is about. We had some sort of celebration, and she was on stage with the mayor, but she didn’t seem like anything special.”

  “What? Did you come for the drinks and leave before hearing anything?”

  “All of you, shut it!” an old wisen man’s voice calls out.

  Ronkorell Hayman walks past the group and speaks to them.

  “She is an enemy of nobility! As much as I would like to say that that is all that matters, that is not the case. Ren is indeed powerful. I have seen it with my own eyes.”

  “With all due respect, sir, she’s level 8 or something.” a man says.

  “Then your information is out of date. She was level 10 when I saw her four days ago.” Ronkorell says.

  “What? Really? I clearly remember an 8 when I saw her at that festival.”

  “Oh, dude, how long was that ago? Like, an octant or something?”

  “Less, but yeah she’s a problem. She’s leveling up fast.”

  “Even still, she poses a greater threat than most. I don’t know how, but she has been defeating foes greater than her. Something is wrong with her. Do not fight her. Leave her to me or one of the other holy generals.”

  “Yes, sir!”

  The men and women make their final preparations until Ronkorell speaks again.

  “While it’s not part of your duty to nobility, I do have a personal request for you all.”

  “Of course, sir. Name it and we’ll do it.” a man said.

  “Pfft! Nothing like that. Again, this is personal. Not a part of your duty.” Ronkorell says.

  “Yes, yes. We understand, sir.”

  “Among our enemies is one Mona Hazel. She too is dangerous. Still, I’d like to be the one to kill her. The trouble is finding her. If any of you see her, only shout my name and I will arrive soon.”

  “Will do, sir!”

  The crowd finish their preparations and begin to file out of the room they were speaking in. Ronkorell himself goes to a standing mirror in the room. He waves his hand over the mirror and his reflection shifts into an image of a hallway in the temple. There Ren is shown cutting down men and women who wear pots and pans strung together by rope or thread as armor. What concerns Ronkorell is that she is alone.

  “Are you using little Ren as bait?”

  Even Ronkorell needs a target to properly fight. Phantom assassins, in particular, are a class that specialize in staying hidden, moving unnoticed and other such stealth capabilities.

  “Well, nothing to do, but stab at our enemies.” Ronkorell says to himself. “I suppose little Ren will have to do.”

  He draws his sword and does a final inspection. He clangs it against his steel shield. He checks all the fastenings on his armor. He checks himself in the mirror one last time before he is satisfied.

  “Ren is dangerous. I need to be careful. She’s young. Probably hasn’t seen much combat. But a farmer with a pitchfork can kill a veteran, can kill me, if I’m not careful. I’ll just need to butcher her with great care.”

  He waves his hand to try and return the mirror to working as a normal mirror. Instead, the mirror showed him something new. Outside there was a group of armed and armored men and women. They did not seem to be associated with the Albrinters.

  “Oh? Mercenaries. Here? Is this perhaps the work of the wealthiest merchant in Blue Pine town? The work of Mackamer?”

  Ronkorell waves his hand over the mirror again. The mirror before him finally returns to showing his reflection. He puts his hands on his back and stretches a bit. He’s at retirement age for a knight or bodyguard. If he were still in the employ of the Leostrider family, he might have settled down with some woman he fancied, have a child, beat them both when he got mad and then start a second family out of wedlock. Maybe one of his children would develop daddy issues and challenge him to a duel so he could kill them to reminisce about the good times. But now he is here.

  “The heathens and demons have both come to our door.”