39 Power (1/2)

The forest was painted in shades of gray. Black earth, gray trees, white leaves and undergrowth. The night vision spell would last for a quarter of an hour.

When done skinning the Nandi Bear, John and his mother began searching for tracks of the poachers. It didn't take long. The poachers either didn't know how or didn't bother to hide it. After half a day walking they found their camp.

Two tents were pitched in front of one another with an unlit fireplace in between. In total there were five Fighters and two Crusaders in the area.

Some were having a late lunch while some were napping under a tree's shade.

A surprise attack with the sun burning overhead wasn't the best idea. Plus, they didn't know how many more of them there were. Therefore they waited and observed.

It proved to be the right choice. Throughout the day, five more Fighters and three Crusaders showed up, doubling the poachers' fighting power.

”Remember,” Dene spoke from the side, ”don't look straight into the fire, even from this far away.” The advice wasn't for nothing. With the spell active, the fireplace shone like a midday sun. If he stared from closer it could blind him.

His mother didn't have the same problem. Not only she cast a higher version of the spell, but a Crusader's eyes were also much stronger, as explained by her.

But being blinded or not wasn't what John worried about. Rather it was the people in the camp. Fifteen people, fifteen lives. At the crack of dawn, they would be dead and buried.

Be it in this world or the other, John wasn't strange to taking lives. Both as a soldier and a spy, John killed for his country. In his last moments on Earth, he killed Verich and his two bodyguards for revenge. And in his first moments after awakening, he killed the two brothers who attacked him; after they had already surrendered.

His justifications for taking lives became flimsier the more time passed, but this would be a new level.

Poaching. Illegal hunting. As far as he knew that was their only crime, and for that they would receive the death penalty.

He worried about how lightly he was taking human lives. And the fact that he was still going to do it worried him even more.

”Are you ready?” Dene asked and he just nodded. ”Good, watch over me then.”

With that, she sat down on the ground to chant her spell. Meanwhile, John observed the poachers' movement or lack thereof. For the past hour, three pairs of Fighters were positioned southwest, southeast, and north of the camp. Sitting by the sun of a fireplace were two Crusaders drinking and laughing. The rest were inside the tents, likely sleeping.

His mother stirred and John knew she was finished casting, and then… nothing. She stood up with no sign of the spell. While Mages cast their spell as soon as their chanting was done, Archmages were able to hold it in for a few moments depending on the element and difficulty of the spell. The spell would still be activated, even if it had to be inside the caster. Thus, there was no time to lose.

As planned, John nocked an arrow while his mother rushed the southeastern Fighters. The man was on his feet, drinking from a waterskin while the woman sat against a tree, trying not to doze off. He aimed at her, who wasn't moving as much.

John drew the bow, took aim and released it with a twang. The arrow flew true and sank halfway into her forehead, the noise startling the one by her side. He choked on whatever he was drinking and was about to shout out when Dene fell upon him.

With a flash, her sword slashed through his throat while her free arm held the man up, preventing his body from hitting the ground and causing too much noise.

John peeked at the two by the fireplace and they seemingly heard nothing, too focused they were in laughing at whatever joke was told.

Dene laid the man gently enough, drew her other sword and ran towards the center of the camp.

The two Crusaders cast two large shadows. Unbeknownst to them, a small, child-sized head emerged from one of these shadows. It was the stuff of nightmares, with rows of exposed jagged teeth forming a disturbing smile, pitch-black skin, and no eyes, ears or nose.

A second head popped up from the other shadow, accompanied by a pair of stick-thin arms that the creature used to pull itself up. It stood less than half a meter tall, with short, stocky legs and claw-like hands that almost brushed against the ground.