Cyrian blew open the door to Master Kira’s house. Frightened staff ducked behind furniture and out of the room. Virgil followed the demon through the house until they found the mage at his dining room table, a forkful of rice halfway to his mouth.

  At the sight of his guests, Master Kira waved a hand, and a chair slid away from the table.

  Virgil took the invitation and sat down. Cyrian remained standing, hovering just behind him like a guardian angel.

  Master Kira chewed his food, then washed it down with a sip of his wine.

  “So it’s my turn, is it?”

  Virgil’s smile was thin and wicked. “You have the same choice as the others.”

  “Death or worse death? Not much of a choice.” He used his napkin to wipe his mouth.

  Virgil frowned. “The System was a mistake. I only ask that it be rectified.”

  Kira chuckled. “You have no idea what you ask. You are a child playing with a sword.”

  Anger swelled in Virgil’s breast, along with a surge of hellfire. It was all too familiar a feeling now, and it was with some difficulty that he pressed it down. He was less intimidated by the prestige of a Master than he had once been, but it would be good to remember that this man still deserved some respect. After all, he knew far more than Virgil about the nature of magic, and that, at least, should be appreciated.

  “Then educate me,” he said at last.

  Master Kira’s eyebrows rose in quick surprise — then he smiled. “Ah yes, I had forgotten that you are a scholar at heart. Very well, then. Before the System, very few ever discovered the affinity necessary to learn spell-casting. There were dojos scattered across Grimora where, for a hefty fee, you could learn from an old master who would have you scrubbing floors as often as learning magic.”

  “I know all that,” Virgil interrupted crossly. “The System made magic accessible, blah blah blah, none of that matters when it’s killing people in the process!”

  Master Kira tsked. “The young are always so impatient. And you act as though demons never came to Grimora before the System, but if that were the case then where do you imagine that the stories came from?”

  For the first time in a long while, Virgil hesitated. He glanced sideways at Cyrian, who continued to stand passively at his side.

  “It was more difficult back then,” Kira continued, “but it still happened. Any working of great magic is enough to thin the veil, and those little devils are just itching to come through to our side. Now, at least, we know when and how that will happen — thanks to you, as it turns out. You and your friend discovered the trick about the skill points, and we’ve disseminated that information. Now, when people take a free skill, they can make sure to have help on hand to fight the demon who pops through.”

  “That… is surprisingly reasonable of you,” Virgil admitted. In fact, he wondered why he hadn’t thought of a similar solution.

  “Surprisingly Reasonable Kira, that’s what they call me.” The mage popped a grape into his mouth. “Now imagine how difficult it was before the System, when demons would pop in willy nilly, without such a handy way to know exactly when and where it would happen.”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Virgil’s suspicion returned. “You can’t expect me to believe that you made the System so you could stop the demons. The only reason you know about the skill points at all is because Ren stumbled across it! My friend died for that information!”

  Kira inclined his head in acknowledgement and grew more serious. “No. We made the System for other reasons which still hold true. I do expect you to believe, though, that this issue with the demons is solved, and that the System allows for a solution that is even more effective than what we had previously.”

  Virgil rose to his feet and paced the length of the dining hall. Could that be true? He ran his fingers through his hair. The deaths of the other four Master Mages and their staff waited at the edge of his conscience. Each death was easier than the last, and they all seemed justified as a sort of vengeance for Ren and insurance that nobody else would suffer the same fate.

  Now Kira was saying the problem was solved without dismantling the System. If that was true, those deaths — no, those murders — would take on a different kind of weight.

  “You would say anything to save your own life.” Cyrian spoke softly from the corner. “I wonder if this solution would have been devised at all, had Virgil not brought so much attention to the issue.”

  Yeah! Virgil whirled back around with clenched fists. Over the last several weeks, he had learned the value of Cyrian’s insight.

  Kira shrugged. “It’s hard to say. I will admit, though, I do not wish to die.”

  Virgil snarled. “Ren didn’t wish to die either. But if I kill you, the last pillar of the System will fall and no-one will suffer his fate.”

  Kira’s eyes widened. “Is that why— That’s why you’re doing this? Son, you have to realize that won’t work.”

  Hellfire curled in Virgil’s palm. “Of course it will. The five of you were pouring your energy into the System; that’s why you’re all so weak. Without you, the System will collapse and we can go back to how things were.”

  Virgil came to a decision. Master Kira would say anything to save his own skin, and he’d come too far to back out now.

  “Hellfire Bolt.” Black flames shot across the room.

  Kira threw himself to the floor, and the attack missed. “That’s not how it works!” he yelled. “Why would we— what kind of stupid design would that be?! Everyone dies eventually, why would we create something that wouldn’t last beyond our generation?”

  It was a good point. A solid argument. A month earlier, it may even have made a difference. But Virgil was filled with fury and vengeance, and if he admitted now that he was wrong, he would have to admit to so much more.

  “Hellfire Bolt!” The attack bounced off a golden force field that shielded the mage. Beneath the onslaught, it cracked and faded.

  Kira pressed himself into the corner of the room, panic clear across his face. “Don’t do this. You’ll see it doesn’t work, and then you’ll have to try something else. Leave the System alone. We created it to protect Grimora from something so much worse than demons.”

  “Cyrian.”

  “Yes, master.” The demon moved so quickly that he blurred, and then the Master Mage’s head rolled across the floor.

  Your party has entered combat!

  Defeated Master Kira level 11!

  EXP +500

  It was done. The mage’s lifeless body slumped forward and blood pooled around it, staining the rug.

  Virgil searched for a feeling of triumph, only to find nothing. He checked his status sheet, and it read the same as it ever had. The System was as robust as ever, and Virgil was left with more questions than ever.

  Why hadn’t that worked? Why was Kira only level 11? What had the Master Mages made the System for? The only people who could answer, were dead.

  He whirled on Cyrian. “You lied to me.”

  The demon lord bowed. “I cannot lie, master.”

  “Then why—” Tears pricked at Virgil’s eyes. Every death of the past month weighed on his soul. “You said this would dismantle the System, but it has had no effect.”

  The demon lord bowed deeper. “I merely suggested it was a possibility, master. I did not know for sure.”

  Virgil’s mouth went dry. All of this, on a supposition. Kira’s blood reached his shoes.

  It was all a lie. This wasn’t vengeance, it was slaughter.

  Virgil’s anger redirected. He glared at Cyrian. “You made me do this,” he growled. “You tricked me.”

  The demon lord straightened. He laughed. “Yes,” he said. “Yes, I did.”