Chapter 50

  One less piece of shit. Eight to go. Too bad they’re not magically linked to their boss. Would’ve been sweet if they just keeled over with him, Game of Thrones style. Now I’ve gotta bust my balls fighting them too. I scoped out their skills on the road. So, introducing the local Scumbag Eight:

  #1 Kars

  Badass motherfucker. Commands wicked magic, conjuring full-blown sandstorms. Wrecks groups, but even in a duel, good luck landing a hit. A goddamn force of nature. Strong in offense and defense. Weakness: shitty visibility and a small mana pool. Codename: Gaara.

  #2 Firos

  Poison guru. Can whip up any poison he knows in any form or quantity. Thank fuck he’s clueless about nerve agents, or I’d be toast. Only defense: hold your breath. Lethal against crowds, but with allies nearby, he’s a double-edged sword. Weakness: close combat. Air mages fuck him up. Codename: Viper.

  #3 Maglen

  Human artillery. Metal magic. Fires meter-long spears at insane velocity. Huge mana, endless ammo. A slaughter machine. Great in big battles or one-on-one. Perfect anti-air. Weakness: limited ammo variety and zero imagination. Can’t adapt to fast-paced fights. Useless for solo gigs. Codename: Rapidfire.

  #4 Riz

  Absolute dickhead. I hate his fucking guts. Power: teleportation. Never been so jealous. I’d kill to kill him. Maybe eat his brain if I make it. Could I steal his skill? Some stories say yes. Lightning-fast reactions and moves. Deadly against groups, nearly untouchable in duels. Ideal for sniping enemy magic cannons or anti-air. Loves his sword. Weaknesses: low combat power, predictable, dumb as a rock, short teleport range. Codename: Asshole.

  #5 Pelar

  Walking tank. Earth mage. Massive build, brute strength. Rides a huge kitty. In battle, he armors up with stone that can tank a cannonball. Can raise barrier walls. Tough as hell in defense, sluggish on attack. Soaks up hits, betting on his durability. Perfect for clearing buildings or tight spaces. Great against infantry. Weaknesses: eye slits in armor, poison vulnerability. Codename: Cupcake.

  #6 Sotgar

  Unhittable. Anti-magic aura. Only physical or elemental attacks hurt him. Immune to debuffs. Cover specialist. Versatile. Ideal bodyguard or solo operative. Fast, mobile, strong, and durable. One-on-one beast. Dual-wields katar punch daggers. Weakness: weakest combat power of the bunch. Codename: Lukashenko (because of mustache).

  #7 Gover

  Beastmaster. Runs a pack of doggos, all level 200-plus. A one-demon army. Multitasks like a pro. Insane combined firepower. Shines in big battles. Commands from cover. Great for recon. Weaknesses: sucks in close combat, always shielded by his pets, weak to long-range artillery. Codename: Ace Ventura.

  #8 Brogler

  Freakshow. Stephen King and H.P. Lovecraft’s bastard child. Shapeshifts on demand—sprouts wings, tusks, extra limbs, eyes, you name it. Scales from half a meter to fifteen. Built to scare the shit out of enemies. Lethal in group or solo fights. Strong, fast, mobile. Sharp mind, adapts quick to chaotic battles. Weakness: long-range magic or physical attacks exploit his thin skin from shapeshifting. Codename: It.

  One guard with unknown powers and a thirteen-year-old kid’s corpse left. That’s the lineup. Forces are clear. All enemies in view. Alright… Time to sim a winning fight. Acceptable damage: no loss of mobility or baby-making parts. All enemies dead. Conditions set. Factoring in starting position and enemy spread. Running sim… Running sim… Running sim… Done. Attempts: 23,344,784. Outcomes: 63% death. 21% brutal death. 15% fucking horrific death. 1% twisted death with sick pre-death sex torture. 0.00002% win. Rerun positive outcomes. Rerunning… System error. No positive outcomes. Check for bugs labeled “optimism.”

  Execute best algorithm.

  Move #1

  My puppet guard spins and swings his axe upward at Riz, aiming for the trickiest bastard. Asshole’s reflexes don’t fail—he teleports out. But I clocked him. His eyes flicked to my side before the strike. Sword’s sheathed, so he’ll go hand-to-hand. Before he warps, I slash my spare dagger at empty air. He appears; my blade rips his throat. Cupcake, right behind, doesn’t harden in time and eats the axe meant for Riz. Toughest guy, Pelar, down. Riz too.

  Move #2

  Cupcake’s fall freaks Rapidfire out. He unloads spears into my puppet’s chest. Guard drops dead. I blast lightning into everyone’s eyes, buying time. I dive off the altar, roll, and snatch my thrown dagger. Lukashenko lunges. I parry his first katar strike, but my dead guard slices his leg off—still under my control. Shocked and stumbling, Sotgar’s easy prey.

  Move #3

  I stab his shoulder, hijacking him. Rapidfire’s still panic-firing. Kills a dozen trained doggos creeping up behind me. I’m untouched, using Lukashenko as a magic-proof shield. I hoist him and charge, hiding behind his body. A few steps, then I dive at Rapidfire’s legs, dodging It’s hooked appendage that cleaves Lukashenko in half. I stick my dagger in Rapidfire’s leg and turn his spears on Brogler.

  Move #4

  Rapidfire stops his magic when he realizes he’s puppeted. But It’s already a pincushion from head to… whatever the fuck’s below. I waste Rapidfire—he’s useless now. I burn a quarter of my mana to explode him into red mist, masking my position. The AOE guys are slow to think. Gaara’s about to sandblast everything when I’m already meters to his side. His sand wall grazes me as I bury my dagger in his neck.

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  Move #5

  Viper snaps, spewing poison fog from his lungs, blanketing the area. Hold breath! Too soon to kill him… More doggos attack. I dodge their leaps like my life depends on it. Poison seeps through skin and eyes. Martyr title better save my ass. It’s a war of attrition, but soon the doggos drop, bleeding out, along with Ace, their master. Just Viper left. I hit with lightning, throw my dagger. Eyes burning and bleeding, I still nail it. A shock, and Firos’s head turns to vapor.

  The poison cloud fades with its maker. I hold my breath a bit longer, then gasp. Coughing’s a bitch. Blood leaks from eyes, ears, nose, and elsewhere, but I’m alive. Did I miss something?

  Move #6

  Behind me looms Guard #2, fucking furious. Shit… How’s he not poisoned? I leap aside, facing him. His eyes glow hypnotic red, chilling my spine. He stalks toward me. No biggie… Last guy should be easy. Right? Fuck… I’m paralyzed… Can’t even look away. What kinda hacked-ass powers are these?! I try magic to reclaim my body—nothing. His magic’s way stronger. I’m not done! I… Dammit! I… Move! Fucking move!!! Let me at least tell him to fuck off before I die!

  Move #7

  A hooked appendage stabs through the guard’s back just before he kills me. The binding force vanishes. Before me stands #8 Brogler, grotesque as hell. Spears studded everywhere, he’s a fucked-up hedgehog but still stands on leg-like things. What the shit? Why’d he kill the guard? How’s he alive? Probably shifted his organs or some crap. Fuck it. Kill him again. I grip my daggers and charge.

  - Easy, easy, stud. It’s me, Wilson. – It talks.

  - What?

  - Bet you didn’t see that coming.

  - Uh…

  - No need to thank me.

  - Cool…

  - Nah, wait. – Wilson interrupts. – I’d love some gratitude.

  - Uh… Thanks?

  - Lame effort. Damn, this body’s weird.

  - Zidar! You bastard!!! – The Prime Mother’s voice booms.

  - What? You were gonna eat my buddy.

  - Buddy? You’re nuts! You’re a demon! You don’t have…

  - Technically, I haven’t been a demon for ages. Souls don’t have races, you know.

  - Traitor!!! I’ll rip you apart!!!

  - Haha! What’d you say? Scared a rabbit with a bare ass?

  - Hedgehog…

  - Scared a hedgehog with a bare ass!

  - No place for you among demons, traitor!

  - Sorry, Syria, but I can’t let this guy die till I hear the rest of Game of Thrones. (Fuck… That’s a problem. I’m basically Scheherazade now.)

  - Hear what? – She’s lost.

  - Oh, you’re hooked too? So, it’s this harsh world, just humans. Only humans, get it? But one day, in the far north, in endless snows, an ancient power wakes. A power that raises the dead! Awesome, right? Way up north, a necromancer king rises! Like me back when…

  (Gotta keep talking so I don’t forget how to speak, they said…)

  - What’s this nonsense?

  - Not into it? Fine, taste thing. I’m dying for the Night King to take over the world!

  - Hold up… You killed my loyal guard and saved this thing for a fake story?

  - Uh… Yeah. Did I fuck up?

  - You’re a fucking idiot!!!

  - Disagree. It’s about priorities. As an immortal, a good story’s worth more than gold. And…

  - Yo, you there? – I cut in.

  - Call me Wilson. Love the name. Sounds fancy. Not like my old one.

  - Ok, dude…

  - Wilson!

  - Fuck… Wilson?

  - Yup, Elon. Wanna pay me back with more Game of Thrones? No pressure, but I’d dig it.

  - Nah… Mind if I kill this spider? (When did I start asking permission?)

  - HAHAHA! – The Prime Mother’s laugh shakes the air, another egg rolling down. – Kill me?! What a joke!

  - Yo, didn’t they teach you not to lay eggs while talking?

  - Why do you care? – Wilson asks.

  - Just hate rude spiders.

  - Polite spiders exist? Who trains them?

  - Can you answer straight?

  - Doubt you can kill her.

  - She’s that tough?

  - Nah, she’s weak as shit. That’s why she’s got the barrier. That’s the real issue.

  - Weak!? I’m weak?! – Syria rages.

  - Real talk… Yeah. I never had a barrier like that.

  - Because I’m crucial! I’m the mother of all demons! Including you, Zidar! How dare you betray me…

  - Whoa, chill. What about these… – I point at the eggs.

  - How dare you?! – She roars.

  - The eggs? Barrier’s one-way. Only lets blood through the tube.

  - Got it. How do I break it?

  - You don’t. It’s unbreakable. Only way’s turning it off. Rotate the crystals right.

  - You know how?

  - Nope, only she does. Even the barrier’s maker doesn’t.

  - Shit… She’s gotta die… Or every demon in hell’ll come for me. I see twenty-ish crystals, all different colors. What if I smash them?

  - No dice. You’d wreck the key.

  - You scum… You’re fucked! I’ll find a way to end you, Zidar… Bet on it…

  - Uh… Yo, what’s your name…

  - Syria. – Wilson says.

  - Syria, I won’t touch your name. Too un-PC. But aren’t you sick of sitting on this hill?

  - How dare…

  - I know, I’m just crude trash.

  - You’re nothing!

  - Sure, but maybe stretch your legs?

  - Not happening!

  Deadlock. Wilson’s not fully trustworthy, but better keep him close. Can’t ditch him easily. I’ve tied up all loose ends except Syria. She’s gotta go.

  I circled the barrier. Twenty-three crystals, different colors and shapes, no repeats. Guessing the combo’s a waste. I scanned for clues—nothing. Thought hard, tried twisting stones—zilch. I was so deep in my head, Wilson’s dumb spider chats didn’t faze me. The barrier’s untouchable. So, plan B. Poison gas inside? Good luck finding that. Tried zapping it—nada. Sent current through the tube—no breach. Been here ages. Fought off local critters now and then. Wilson died once by accident, pissing me off and jumping into Guard #2’s body. Syria mocked me openly. She was loving this.

  - Yo, any hints? – I asked, desperate.

  - Turn the stones in the right order. Hahaha…

  - Thanks, genius. Any tips on the order?

  - You want me to help you kill me?

  - Yeah, if you’re cool with it.

  - You’ve got some fucking nerve.

  - Lend me some. Nerve’s the next best thing to luck. So, a hint?

  - Haha… Alright. I’ll spill.

  - For real? – Smells like a trap.

  - Listen up, no repeats.

  - Fine…

  The Prime Mother sucked in air and spat gibberish like a radio ad on fast-forward:

  - tfel owt snrut xis ecalp thgir ruof htiw der meg kcab eno dna drawrof thgir eerht nrut tfel owt kcab der meg evif tfel nrut neerg msirp kcab owt thgir nrut tfel eno kcab eulb meg drawrof eerht thgir nrut neerg ebuc tfel eno kcab msirp drawrof owt tfel nrut evif msirp kcab neerg tfel eno drawrof thgir nrut… - I took seconds to digest it.

  - That’s it. Simple, hahaha. – She laughed her ass off, thinking she’d pulled a fast one. Her ant jaws twitched, making me wanna puke. I almost pitied her.

  - Phew… Thanks, GLaDOS. Where’d I be without you?

  - Haha. Got it? – Syria kept jeering.

  - Sorta. Red pentagonal prism? There. Two turns left.

  - What…? – Her voice dripped shock, face too ugly to show it.

  - Green cube next?

  - How… How the fuck… - Her eight legs shook with panic.

  - Shouldn’t have fucked with me.

  - Impossible!!!

  - Pfft… Impossible? I’ve binged all of Nolan’s shit. Nothing’s impossible.