The sun had set, and for the first time in centuries, the night felt safer than the day.
Cain and Isolde walked along the Kingsroad, a broken spine of cobblestone winding through the Darkwood. Isolde rode a warhorse she had "requisitioned" from the unconscious Inquisitors. Cain walked.
He didn't just walk; he prowled. His stride was long and soundless, eating up distance with terrifying efficiency. He moved faster than the horse could trot, his hands buried in his pockets, humming a tune that sounded vaguely like a funeral dirge.
"We need to discuss strategy," Isolde broke the silence, glancing nervously at the dense trees. "The path to the First Temple is guarded by the Stone Golems. Magic bounces off them. Swords shatter on their skin."
"Sounds crunchy," Cain muttered, looking bored.
"This isn't a joke, Cain!" Isolde snapped. "You have no mana. I understand you're strong, but you can't just punch a mountain to death."
Cain stopped. He turned to her, his crimson eyes glowing in the twilight.
"Princess," he sighed. "You think I'm just a brute? Just muscle and bad attitude?"
"Well..." Isolde gestured to his arms. "Yes."
Cain smirked. "Watch."
He raised his right hand. The shadow cast by his body didn't behave normally. It detached itself from the ground, rising up like black tar, bubbling and swirling until it formed a floating, abyssal hole in the air next to his shoulder.
Isolde's horse reared in panic. "What is that?"
"My closet," Cain said.
He reached his hand into his own shadow. His arm disappeared up to the elbow. He rummaged around for a moment, the sound of clanking metal echoing from the void.
"Let's see... not that one... too messy... ah, here we go."
He pulled his arm back. In his grip was a weapon that made Isolde's blood run cold.
It was a Great flail, but instead of a steel ball, the end was a massive, calcified skull of a Dragon, wreathed in chains that pulsed with a faint, anti-magic purple hue.
[Weapon Class: Mythical]
[Name: The Earth-Eater]
[Effect: Kinetic Amplification. Nullifies Earth Magic.]
"Where did you get that?" Isolde whispered.
"Killed a Earth Dragon a few years back," Cain said casually, resting the massive weapon on his shoulder as if it weighed nothing. "He was hoarding a really nice vintage of red wine. I took the wine, and his head."
Suddenly, the ground beneath them shook.
BOOM. BOOM.
From the treeline, two massive shapes emerged. Stone Golems. They were twenty feet tall, animated by the mana of the Earth Divinity. They roared, a sound like grinding tectonic plates.
"Speak of the devil," Cain grinned. "Target practice."
The first Golem charged, swinging a fist the size of a carriage.
Isolde raised her staff to cast a shield, but Cain was already moving.
He didn't run. He launched himself.
With a burst of speed that kicked up a cloud of dust, Cain met the Golem head-on. He swung The Earth-Eater.
CRACK-BOOM!
The dragon skull impacted the Golem's chest. The anti-magic chains flashed purple, instantly canceling the spell holding the stone together.
The Golem didn't just break; it exploded. The kinetic force of Cain's swing, combined with the weapon's weight, turned the monster into a shower of gravel.
The second Golem hesitated. It was a mindless construct, but even it seemed to sense that something was wrong.
Cain landed, spinning the massive flail with one hand.
"One down," he called out to Isolde. "You want the other one? Or should I switch to something faster?"
He dropped the flail. Before it hit the ground, the shadow swallowed it.
In the same motion, Cain reached into the void again. This time, he pulled out two sleek, serrated Kamastones (sickles) connected by a long chain. They dripped with a green liquid.
[Weapon Class: Cursed]
[Name: The Twin Vipers]
[Effect: Neurotoxic decay. Rotts stone and flesh instantly.]
"Fast it is," Cain decided.
He vanished.
Isolde saw only a blur of black motion. The chain lashed out, wrapping around the second Golem's neck. Cain yanked. The green poison hissed against the stone, dissolving the magical binds instantly.
The Golem crumbled into a heap of lifeless rocks.
Cain stood atop the pile of rubble, retrieving his sickles. He looked back at Isolde, the moonlight highlighting the sweat glistening on his perfect physique. He looked exhilarated. Radiant. Terrifying.
"So," Cain called out, his voice echoing through the silent forest. "About that strategy meeting. Does 'I hit it until it stops moving' work for you?"
Isolde stared at him. She realized then that she hadn't hired a mercenary. She had unleashed a calamity.
"It works," she breathed.
Cain laughed, turning back to the road. The shadows swirled around him, turning into a swarm of bats that playfully nipped at his ears before vanishing back into his silhouette.
"Good," he said. "Now, let's go. I heard the First Temple has comfortable chairs. I plan to sit in them."