The Last Rule of Death

The gray soil of the anomaly boundary stretched out before them, cold and dead.

Etzel and DK stood at the edge of the dead zone, watching the mist swirl over the ashen earth. They had mapped the perimeter. They had confirmed the threat. Now, it was time to go back to the city and file a report that would get them laughed out of the Hunter Authority.

"Let's go," Etzel said, turning south.

Before he could take a step, the forest behind them exploded.

It wasn't a stampede this time. It was a targeted strike.

A massive shape burst through the tree line, snapping a thick pine trunk like a twig. It was easily the size of a small car, covered in thick, overlapping bone plates. Its eyes burned with a frantic, unnatural rage.

The System flashed in Etzel’s vision.

"Not necessarily stronger," Etzel muttered, gripping his hatchet. "But angrier. Much angrier."

"Behind me," DK said, his voice dropping into that calm, battlefield cadence.

The Mauler charged. DK didn't brace for impact. He angled his shield. The creature hit the silver metal with the force of a battering ram. The sound was enormous. Metal rang. DK slid backward nearly a meter, his boots carving trenches in the dirt, but he held the line.

Etzel saw an opening near the rear leg. He moved in, swinging his hatchet downward.

The blade struck the hide.

And bounced.

Etzel’s hands went numb. The vibration shot up his arms, rattling his teeth. "Oh."

The Ridgeback kicked backward. Etzel threw himself aside. A massive hoof passed close enough to move his shirt. He rolled, pain flaring through his healing ribs.

The creature turned astonishingly fast. Too fast for its size.

DK intercepted. Sword met bone plate. Sparks flashed. The Ridgeback roared and slammed its head sideways. DK blocked with his shield.

Etzel watched from the ground. He was looking for the tell. The moment before the attack. But there were too many. Shoulders. Neck. Hips. Everything moved at once.

"This one doesn't telegraph cleanly!" Etzel shouted over the din of metal and roaring.

"It does," DK replied, parrying a massive claw. "You are looking for what it wants to do. Stop predicting what it has to do. Restrict what it can do."

Restrict what it can do.

Etzel scrambled to his feet. He didn't look at the Mauler's shoulders. He looked at the terrain.

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He backed toward the dense cluster of ironwood trees. "Hey! Over here!"

The Ridgeback turned, its eyes locking onto Etzel. It charged.

Etzel didn't run away. He ran into the trees.

The Mauler followed, but its massive bone plates and wide stance were built for open ground. Between the thick trunks, its momentum became a liability. It clipped a tree, stumbling slightly.

"I'm choosing where it gets to be annoying," Etzel muttered.

He swung his hatchet, not at the armored back, but at the unarmored joint behind the knee. The blade bit deep. The Mauler shrieked, its leg buckling.

But before Etzel could press the advantage, a high-pitched screech tore through the canopy.

Etzel looked up. A bird-like creature with metallic feathers and a hooked beak was diving from the sky.

Behind it, stepping out of the shadows, was a humanoid figure. Its skin resembled dry gray ash. Its ribs were visible beneath the flesh, glowing with a dull, ember-orange light. Three hooked fingers flexed at the end of its hands.

"Two," Etzel said.

"I can count," DK said, his sword rising.

The Hexer raised one arm. Orange light moved from its chest, through its shoulder, down its arm, and into its palm.

"Don't," Etzel said, raising a hand. "The flying one first."

The Hexer fired. A sphere of orange energy shot toward them. Etzel moved left. The blast passed beside his head and struck a trunk. Heat washed across his face. Wood exploded.

The Shrike changed direction to avoid the falling branches.

Etzel stopped. Then he smiled.

"You have an idea," DK noted.

"I have a bad idea."

"Those are common."

"This one's useful."

Etzel stepped deliberately into view. The Hexer began charging again. Orange light brightened in its palm.

Above, the Shrike folded its wings, entering a steep dive.

Etzel watched both. The Hexer. The Shrike. The trajectory.

Make them interfere with each other.

The Hexer fired.

Etzel dropped flat to the ground.

The energy sphere passed inches above his head and struck the diving Shrike mid-air. The bird screeched, its dive path ruined. It tumbled through the air, crashing into the underbrush.

The Hexer paused, its casting rhythm broken.

That half-second was all Etzel needed. He closed the distance, his hatchet swinging in a brutal upward arc. The blade caught the Hexer beneath the jaw, severing the glowing orange light in its chest.

The creature collapsed.

Then another line formed. Etzel went still.

Warmth began inside his chest. He smiled before the next line even formed.

The warmth spread. Not explosive. Not overwhelming. Deeper than Level Two had been. More settled than Level Three. His legs felt lighter. His balance shifted. His breathing stabilized faster.

He stood up, rolling his shoulders. The ache in his ribs was still there, but it felt distant now. Manageable.

DK stood over the crippled Ridgeback Mauler, his sword resting lightly on the creature's neck. He looked at Etzel.

"You reached it," the knight said.

"Level Three," Etzel confirmed, walking over. He looked down at the Mauler, then at the dead Hexer, and finally at the groaning Shrike pulling itself from the bushes.

He had survived. Not because he was stronger. Not because his F-Rank ability had suddenly become OP. But because he had stopped trying to out-muscle the System and started out-thinking it.

"Next time," Etzel said, wiping his hatchet clean, "remind me to bring a bigger axe."

DK sheathed his sword. "Next time, I will remind you to stand behind me."

Etzel grinned. "Deal."

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