I’m sorry, hand.

  I released a [Lightning Momentum], turning my body at the same time.

  The momentum made me spin around the tree just as the devil’s feet slammed into the ground. He stomped on branches and leaves while my hand was torn apart by the twist of my body.

  Still, I managed to get to the other side of the tree in less than a second. My arm nearly broke from the sudden movement, but thankfully, it remained in one piece.

  Unlike my hand.

  The short sword had torn a massive hole through the middle of it and exited between my index and middle fingers. It was as if I had two hands instead of one, but surprisingly, it didn’t hurt as much anymore.

  Maybe Constitution also granted pain tolerance, I thought as I let my left arm hang limp at my side and took a few steps back. The Arahaktar grabbed his sword from the ground and moved toward me.

  The fucker was so big I could still see plenty of him behind the tree. His arms were thick with muscle, his legs looked like tree trunks, and his broad chest heaved with every breath, making the veins on his body bulge.

  His horns were round and curled a couple of times, like those of a mountain goat. When he stepped around the tree, he wore a sickening smile.

  He thought he’d already won. That would be his downfall.

  Does he have any more blinks? Was that burst of fire around him a one-off? Those and several other questions lingered in my mind.

  “I flayed a few humans in the last few days,” he said, wiping his sword on his trouser cloth. “I couldn’t sacrifice them to the priests since I haven’t found them yet, but I must say… I believe in them.”

  “In what?” I asked, giving myself time to stall and think. There were no monkeys jumping around us anymore, and the others fighting were too far away for me to see clearly.

  Tress had just shot an Arahaktar in the back, while Elk… was pounding his staff against another one’s head? Why wasn’t he using his magic?

  “You’re not the same people who enslaved us for centuries. It took me a while to believe, but after the third flaying… I was convinced.” He nodded, for the first time looking not angry but thoughtful. He didn’t move forward.

  “And there’s some great revelation in your discovery? Because it was pretty obvious to me that we’d never met ugly bastards like yourself.”

  He smirked, seemingly amused by the joke.

  “I discovered I didn’t care. I’ll keep going until all of you are dead. And when I finish this game and become the champion, I’ll find the real humans—the ones who enslaved my people,” he said confidently, looking straight into my soul as he slowly walked forward.

  I glanced at my left hand, dismissing the blade from my right. I couldn’t get near the bastard, or else he’d burst me. I needed to be smarter.

  “That seems like a good plan. I have no sympathy for the ones who colonized your planet, you can rest assured of that. And I’m actually sorry for your people—maybe that’s why you’re so sick in the head.”

  With each word, his rage returned, and by the time I finished, he was already charging.

  “But you’ll die today, and for that, I won’t be sorry.”

  I released three lightning bolts at the bastard, one after the other.

  Elk only stopped pounding his staff against the Arahaktar’s head when there was nothing left to see there besides the horns.

  Big, elegant, and sharp horns. They pointed straight up, with no curves. They were beautiful—and meant shit to him.

  “Come, you bastards!” he cried, scanning his surroundings and realizing three of them were very close. And he only had Tress by his side.

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  “Maybe you spoke too soon,” Tress said, glancing back to check on Zach and to the side where Mary and the others were fighting monkeys and Arahaktar at the same time. At least five of their allies had already died, while only one Arahaktar had gone down.

  And Mary’s fight wasn’t looking good—she was up against five monkeys and two Arahaktar. The only thing going for them was that the monkeys didn’t seem to care who they attacked.

  Elk summoned his illusions, using one to fake spells. The three Arahaktar in front of him smiled, mocking the hornless.

  He stepped back, feigning weakness and helplessness. Tress seemed to catch the cue and followed him.

  The next illusion Elk summoned was a tangible one—his last for a lot of hours. But it was worth it.

  The illusion conjured a serpent at his side, a fake spell, and a wall of fire between him and the enemies.

  They walked through it, assuming it was fake. The first one had its leathery body completely engulfed in flames and ran to the side, rolling on the ground to put out the fire before disappearing down the slope.

  It was almost beautiful watching the Arahaktar roll down, illuminating the forest even more.

  The other two waited for the spell to fade, then rushed at them.

  Elk released the serpent, but they were quick to dodge its leap, making their charge almost impossible to avoid. However, Elk had a high speed stat.

  When the Arahaktar swung his blade at Elk’s neck, he was already two steps back—a fireball bursting from his staff and hitting the Arahaktar right in the chest.

  The second one came with a lance and shield toward Tress, who couldn’t fire arrows at him nor had enough reach or sword power to circle around and strike his back.

  Elk took advantage of the opening he’d made and created a few illusions of himself to help Tress.

  This time, the male was wary of them, dodging and blocking fake fireballs as they came at him. When one of the illusions rushed forward, Tress seized the opportunity and aimed her bow.

  When the Arahaktar lowered his shield to check his surroundings, an arrow pierced his skull right in the middle of his forehead. He fell onto his back just as the fallen one got up and rushed at us.

  “Who do you think you are to attack a superior being?!” he bellowed at the top of his lungs, charging Elk with unmatched speed. A simple step to the side wouldn’t be enough here.

  He thrust his short sword at Elk’s chest, and Elk swung his staff to deflect it. It only worked halfway. The blade was knocked upward but still slashed Elk’s shoulder, drawing a line of blood across his face as well.

  His tunic was in shambles now, torn from all the cuts and bruises he’d gathered over the last few days. The tunic they’d given him before throwing him into hell—a human piece of clothing, not an Arahaktar one.

  The enemy attacked again, but this time Elk managed to intercept it with his staff. The blade locked against it as the Arahaktar pressed forward, trying to force him onto his ass.

  Tress jumped in to help, striking at the Arahaktar’s side, forcing him to dodge and creating an opening. Elk swung his staff wide, gripping it at the edge, and struck the Arahaktar’s temple with all the force he could muster.

  He collapsed, grumbling—not dead, but completely dizzy. His face was covered in blood, his round black horns now stained with red.

  “Isn’t your blood red like mine? Aren’t you dying just like you expected me to?!” Elk yelled, stepping closer.

  The Arahaktar looked up, blade in hand, ready to strike from the ground.

  He took a fireball to the chest before he could.

  That knocked the air from his lungs, and Elk brought his staff down again—this time to hurt, not to conjure magic.

  The skull cracked, horns shattering. When Elk was done, the Arahaktar had horns shorter than Elk’s own—and no life left in his body. Meanwhile, Elk was still standing.

  The cathartic rush overwhelmed him, and he ignored the system messages flashing before him. It was hard to focus on anything but his own breathing and the liberating feeling of revenge.

  Is that how Zach feels when he lashes out? Elk thought, and that thought made him miss the footsteps closing in.

  The one he’d burned was charging up the hill, too fast for Elk to dodge, a lance in hand, ready to skewer him.

  Then time seemed to slow. A shadow flashed at the edge of his vision. The air crackled, and suddenly, someone was right beside the Arahaktar.

  It was a female Arahaktar, carrying two others on her shoulders. She dropped them to the ground, grabbed a thick, burning branch, and struck the Arahaktar right in the temple.

  The notification appeared. He was dead.

  The two females they’d saved were hunched over, throwing up on the ground.

  The Arahaktar with the skill to dash at immense speed was panting, still gripping her improvised torch.

  “It’s… not… easy to use my powers,” she said, taking a deep breath and looking up at Elk and Tress, “when the whole forest is on fire!”

  Elk started thinking of an excuse or a light joke—those usually worked with Zach and the others—but Tress touched his shoulder.

  “We need to help the others,” she said, and they turned to aid their cornered allies while their new ones started getting up and moving to assist.

  Elk glanced to the side and saw Zach flying toward Titus. Lightning Momentum carried him forward towards a stunned Arahaktar, but Titus was glowing with fire magic, grinning from ear to ear even amidst the lightning running through his body.

  “You can’t die, Zach,” Elk thought as he watched his friend get caught in a second explosion.