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Chapter 9

Last we heard, in a determined effort to avoid any comeuppance from the likely to be furious villagers of Letum, Russo, Jem, Zane and Morgan bumbled out of town and were trying to get the hell out of dodge. Fortunately for them the villagers didn't catch up to them and the entire group managed to make it to the next town right around nightfall. All of them grabbed up a room at the local inn and after cleaning up and getting a bite to eat they nabbed a few hours of sleep. In a rush they departed at the crack of dawn the following morning to stay ahead of any would be pursuers.

Gray clouds and a light haze that blew in overnight obscured the sky, but the sun was starting to poke through the clouds. The air had a chill to it due to the moisture lingering in the air and the main paths were still a little damp and muddy.

"Why should the rest of us even have to run? You're the one who destroyed their village!" Morgan exclaimed while looking to Russo as the group was hurrying along the path.

"It wasn't on purpose! Besides they don't know that, so remember they'll be gunning after all of us."

"Point taken."

"Yeesh... I'm going to need to lay low for a while since my guild is pretty close by," Zane said in a defeated tone.

"Oh... that's right. You're from the southern part of the province aren't you Zane?" Russo said in an apologetic tone.

"Unfortunately..."

"Yikes... yeah I would think the villagers would check there first since it seemed like they all knew we were out of towners from guilds."

"Why are we so worried about the villagers of Letum chasing after us anyway? It's not like it's absolutely guaranteed that they'll come around looking for trouble," Jem asked.

"I beg to differ considering Russo here single handedly destroyed their entire village," Morgan chimed in.

"It was an accident!"

"Yes, and if I remember correctly so was blowing up the pub back in Tedrah. Another one of your accidents," Jem said in a rare smart ass comeback. Russo just frowned at him and continued walking.

"Regardless, my guild isn't too far from here. I'll just stay out of sight for a few days... or however long it takes for this to blow over."

"We'll probably end up doing the same," Jem said in a subdued tone.

"Same here," Morgan replied.

"What's everyone so bummed for? Sure I may have inadvertently earned us the ire of an entire town forever but at the same time I finished our job and rid the world of a great and terrible evil! I don't see any of you giving me pats on the back about a job well done. Hell the villagers should be thanking me for that. Saving the province should be more than enough to cancel out my fuckup."

"Russo have you ever heard the phrase the ends don't justify the means?" Morgan inquired in an annoyed tone.

"I think some witch I clocked out cold used that when she was trying to rhyme a curse on me."

"...Just forget it."

After some time the travelers came to a crossroad and headed their separate ways. Morgan to the west, Zane to the east with the plan on circling back south to his guild while Jem and Russo continued traveling northward. The collie and human frantically hoped they could rest at the next town along the path for a couple of days in order to regain their strength.

Try as he might to circumvent their plans and teleport them directly to Tedrah, Russo found he was still severely drained of his magical energy and it was returning to him at a very slow pace.

"Freaking relic. It'll probably be an entire week before I'm back up to strength."

"Russo would you please stop your whining? It's not going to do either of us any good."

"Sorry. It's... you know I don't purposefully do any of this stuff right? You're aware that I don't walk into a settlement for a mission with the intent goal of blowing something up before I leave. Right?"

"I know, I know. You have to admit that lately it's been happening pretty frequently though."

"I suppose."

"Will you promise me you'll put in an effort to stop, you know, blowing up everything you touch?"

"You never let me have any fun."

"Promise me Russo?"

"*Sigh* Fine I promise. Speaking of promises do I still owe you meals? Surely it's been close to four months now since the... you know... incident."

"You take care of my culinary expenses for the next few days or so we're in town getting back up to snuff and we'll call it even."

"Finally," Russo said in exasperated relief.

"Who says there won't be some new stipulation for keeping me hushed up about what happened in Letum?"

"Please. Word of that'll get back to the Master sooner or later anyway."

"Smart ass."

"Would you prefer me any other way?"

"I guess not," Jem said as he cracked a smile and a grin formed on Russo's face.

The banter between the two friends continued as the day lingered on. Jem and Russo's pace was noticeably subdued compared to normal due exhaustion that plagued the both of them. Being beaten around and running off of a few hours of sleep from the day prior may have had something to do with that. At the rate they were going they would be pushing it to try and make it to the next town along the path before nightfall. When the duo finally began nearing the next stop on their journey and the sun readied itself to begin dipping down below the horizon, two foes lying in wait made their move. Russo and Jem had failed to notice on the return trip that the land had gone from supporting short hardy grasses to taller grains, flowers, wild grasses and trees. It was a shift the absentminded protagonists had failed to realize and would have done well to take into account. The land here afforded not only greater opportunities for people to live off it but also to die on.

On both sides of the road something rustling in the taller grasses rapidly approached the road. Hardly a sound was made before the two assassins leapt out to confront the duo. The first, a battle hardened brown cat, leapt out before them, and the other, a slim gray weasel, jumped out from behind them. Both of them were dressed in a mixture of black and blue cloaks and garments, both ideal colors for blending into the night. The first hint that Jem and Russo had to their presence was the soft clinging of their gear as they landed in the road, but by then it was already too late.

"Shit. Highwaymen," Russo worriedly thought. He tried to force magical energy into his fingertips but nothing came. He didn't have enough magical energy to cast even the simplest of spells. "...I am proper fucked," Russo thought as he realized in dread horror just how useless and defenseless he was without his magic, just like the Master had told him.

Jem unsheathed his sword and faced the cat in front of him, while Russo worriedly looked at the weasel behind them. Russo desperately pulled out a knife from one of the pockets on his vest and did his best to put up a defensive stance while wielding it.

"You know the routine," the cat said addressing his cohort, all the while never taking his eyes off Jem. "Split em' up."

The weasel nodded his head and raised his left hand and pointed towards the duo. Wrapped around his hand was a chain threaded with magic crystals. A flash of brilliant light erupted from his hand and Russo found himself momentarily blinded. As soon as the weasel made his move the cat rushed forward and unsheathed a short sword attached to his belt. He lunged at Jem and the collie was forced to step back to parry the attack. As Jem tried to dodge the slender weasel flew past him and disarmed Russo by slamming him in the stomach with a wicked punch. Russo buckled to his knees as the punch forced the air out of his lungs right as his vision was returning. As he gasped for air the weasel kicked him in the side of the head so damn hard Russo felt like his skull was going to be torn off of his shoulders. The human tumbled across the ground, out of breath, his head throbbing and his vision blurry. He desperately tried to stand back up as the gray weasel slowly began advancing toward him.

Meanwhile Jem was frantically dodging more lunges and strikes by the cat. He was able to parry most of the blows but a few swings of the cat's blade were making their way through. Jem could feel the blood from the gashes across his chest start trickling down. His wounds weren't deep but dammit they hurt and they were slowing him down. Jem gritted his teeth and slowly grew angrier as the cat attacked so damn quickly that there was no time to counter. All Jem could do was defend and he could barely react in time to pull that off. Then there was the matter of how in the corner of his eye he could see his best friend being physically beaten to the point between dead and dying.

Russo frantically tried to prop himself up on his arms but the weasel kicked them out from beneath him before he got the chance to. The mage collapsed back in an unceremonious heap on the ground. The weasel delivered another swift kick to the human's side and as Russo winced in pain he received another kick straight to the ribs. What little air he had in his lungs left again and he started hacking up spit. Russo valiantly tried to stand back up again and got as far as getting his knees into a kneeling position. As he tried to steady his weight on one leg his attacker bemusedly looked on at the human's pointless struggling. The gray weasel pulled out a scimitar from the sword sheath slung across his back and walked a few paces towards Russo. Russo slowly got to his feet and looked back up to his attacker as the weasel took a clean diagonal swing at the human's torso completely tearing through his cloak, vest and flesh. Russo could feel his warm lifeblood flowing out from the gash in his chest as he fell backward and collapsed on the ground, looking up towards the sky, wide eyed and in shock. The gray assassin took the time to wipe the blood off of his scimitar on his cloak before sheathing it.

Russo's breathing was strained and painful and the slice across his chest was causing him agonizing pain, but he was still alive, and worse yet, conscious. The weasel, with a displeased look on his face, saw that the thick weaving of the vest prevented his sword strike from being a lethal one. He decided to hasten the process by wrapping both of his hands around the human's throat and lifting him up in the air to begin throttling him. The weasel's long and slender form hid a deceiving amount of raw physical strength. Russo raised his arms and placed his hands on those of the weasel's, trying in vain to break the vice grip on his throat. The edges of his vision slowly went black and his limbs became heavy. Russo's arms slowly slid down and draped to his sides. As he looked into his killer's eyes he saw no hatred, no glee, no sorrow, nothing. Just a calm reserved look that was characteristic of someone going through the motions. The darkness at the edges of his vision continued spreading and as it did Russo could've sworn he heard someone calling out his name. But soon everything went dark, and silent.

"Russo! RUSSO!" Jem screamed out as he continued fending off attacks from the cat. More and more of his foe's sword strikes were making their way through his defenses and nicking and tearing at his flesh. Behind the cat he saw his best friend being strangled and his body slowly going limp and stiff. As the cat continued hacking away at Jem he nonchalantly began speaking. "Gray, I know you like getting 'hands on' during work but would you just break the guy's neck already?"

The gray weasel looked back at his coworker and in an annoyed tone replied "I don't tell you how to do your job. Don't tell me how to do mine."

The cat just shook his head as he continued attacking Jem.

Russo was dying before his very eyes and all Jem was doing was standing there like a fool, unsuccessfully trading blows with this cat. He could feel his anger getting the best of him as the seconds ticked by. Historically Jem had always tried to complete his missions or assist his friends in as relatively peaceful manner as possible. He didn't rush or bumble into things like Russo did and he always did his best to keep his head about him. He knew he was in possession of an almost unfair amount of power and Jem did his best to make sure he didn't abuse it. Yet when a situation did turn sour he was no stranger to resorting to force. And now was a good time, if not the ideal time to resort to force. Cruel, unnecessary, furious and overwhelming force.

Jem parried the cat again and in the few seconds the cat was pushed back Jem's body exploded with muscle. Jem then swung his sword with such force that his sword and the cat's shattered against each other. The cat took a few steps back, absolutely flabbergasted at the sudden change in his opponent. Jem allowed himself to surge with power and rapidly grow in height as he angrily looked down at the cat, his lips and ears turned back into an unmistakable and infuriated snarl. His clothes and equipment forcefully burst off of his body and in seconds he had reached thirty feet and was still growing.

"G-gray..." the cat fearfully called back.

The weasel yelled back without even looking over his shoulder, "For fuck's sake Brown I'm almost done."

(Yes, I seriously named the assassins Gray and Brown solely based off of their fur colors.)

Jem glowered at the cat as he stared him down and with terrifying speed slammed his fist into the ground as he continued to grow in height. He felt the cat's body crunch underneath his fist and his former foe's organs and juices spread out beneath it.

The tumultuous rumbling surprised the weasel and caused him to drop Russo to the ground. As Gray looked behind him he was greeted by the sight of his coworker's broken and bloody corpse in a fist shaped crater. A deep and angry growling permeating the air accompanied his observation. Before he even had the chance to look up, Jem swiped him off the ground with alarming speed and brought the weasel up to his face. Standing tall at his full height of sixty feet, the assassin was little more than an insect compared to the enraged giant.

Before the assassin even had the chance to scream or even beg for his life Jem coldly told him in a booming voice, "NOBODY FUCKS WITH MY FRIENDS," and proceeded to squeeze his hand and crush him inside his iron grip. Jem felt the blood trickle through his fingers and start dripping down to the ground as he let his infuriated gaze linger on where his foe had once been. Moments later he opened his grip and carelessly let the weasel's corpse tumble through the air until it mashed into the ground. All in all Jem's murderous rampage took about twenty seconds.

During his brief rampage Jem's heart had started pounding and his mind was racing. That rush of emotions came to a screeching halt as soon as he took a look down at Russo's motionless body.

"No... no, no, no, no, no. You can't be dead," Jem fearfully said to himself as he got down on his knees and put an oversized ear to the ground next to Russo. For a couple of seconds he heard nothing.

"No, no, no, no, no... DAMMIT I should've acted sooner!" Jem mentally screamed to himself as he felt his eyes begin to water.

As he lambasted himself his ear picked up a low and very faint thumping sound. It was rhythmic but very faint and he could also make out very strained and shallow breathing.

"Oh thank the gods..." he happily said to himself as he wiped the edges of his eyes. Still, this really wasn't a time to celebrate. Russo was still alive, but barely. That gash across his chest and the blood loss associated with it would kill him soon enough if something wasn't done. Shit, if only he knew even the most basic magic maybe he could try to heal Russo or at least teleport him somewhere where he could get help.

Jem quickly gathered up the remains of his equipment and the shredded clothing that burst from his body off the ground and held it in the hand he had killed both the cat and weasel with. Very gently, Jem scooped up Russo into his other hand and as delicately as possible wrapped his fingers around him. Jem could feel some of Russo's blood slowly matting his fingers and the palm of his hand. He bit his lip as he sadly looked upon his friend's battered form. The blood of his enemies stained one hand and the blood of his best friend stained the other. He shook his head and turned towards the direction of the nearest town. With a sigh he stepped off the beaten road and slowly made his way toward it as the sun sank over the horizon.