Fola slithered forward, his individual toes stepping atop the square cobblestone street, each like a long dagger, his legs thin and winding, towering over the pair of brutalised mercenaries. His lanky arms like a skeleton brought his two claws together, clapping, with menace behind the applause that reached every corner of the empty marketplace. His featureless face, bar his horrific maw with knife-like fangs, amidst a terrifying grin, looked down upon Michaelis and Ilgar, completely battered and broken.

“Our employer has arrived.” Michaelis scoffed, exhausted, holding his chest as he flopped onto his rear next to his unconscious ally, Ilgar the orc, covered head to toe in his own blood. Fola’s grin continued to paint his face, as he stopped applauding, keeping his hands bundled together while looking down to Rio’s headless corpse.

“Masterful job Michaelis, I’m very pleased with the results.” He exclaimed, bringing his left arm to his side as he snapped his right arm into the air. “I’ll be taking this.” He muttered, his right arm flying through the air, extending in a wet, bloody stretch as the hand stabbed into the Golden God’s chest as his lifeless body rested on the ground. Michaelis flinched, scooting backwards as Fola gripped Rio’s heart, pulling it back, his arm returning to its regular length.

The blood god’s claw enwrapped the pulsing ball of flesh, as he gave the pair a bow. “You should really get your friend to a doctor, because if there’s one thing I know it’s blood, and he is certainly lacking.”

Michaelis looks to Ilgar, sighing heavily as he picks the immensely tall green man up, bringing him over his shoulder, panting as he prepares to bring Ilgar away. “Oh and, Michaelis,” Fola commented, beginning to walk away, turning his neck around to face the pair. “Because you did such a cutting-edge job,” The God snorted, “I’ll be leaving Titania an anonymous tip to keep your workflow going because as I understand it, you really enjoy this sort of thing.”

Michaelis sneered at the God who howled with laughter, even more maliciously than the man on the centipede, Fola stomping off into the darkness, with a bloody heart in his frail hand.

###

A set of lime eyes swept the lines of a novel, Curam, sitting in a leather armchair next to a fireplace, read through an old and tattered book. The room he sat in was small, a bookcase taking up one wall with a short table next to the grand chair he had snuggled into. The doctor heard a knock at his door, setting his book on the table next to himself, confused due to how dark it was outside.

The healer grabbed a large knife from a shelf, holding it behind his back as he approached his front door, moving into a hallway with two more rooms connected, alongside the living room. He placed his left hand on the handle for his entrance, grip on the blade behind his back tightening as he opened it, just to find Ilgar painted red, being carried in by Michaelis, the blood dripping down onto the entrance floor.

Ilgar was dropped onto a dining table within Curam’s kitchen, the table’s legs making snapping noises as the doctor winced. “Damnit..” he muttered, setting the knife on a countertop as he planted his hands on Ilgar, a green light flowing from his palms and beginning to heal Ilgar of his wounds and bruises.

“Can I ask what happened?” The doctor asked as Ilgar’s slices and bruises began to recede.

“We had a job offer outside of the guild and we took it. Nothing more you’ll need to know.” Michaelis explained, breathing heavily through his teeth.

“Well I could just not heal you two, I’d appreciate some more context.”

“We killed a God off the books for power and information,” Michaelis stated with a sigh, looking to the ground.

“And what if I tell Titania?” Curam snickered as his hands continued to move along Ilgar’s body, looking at the red orc as he spoke to the assassin to his right. Though at the same time he made this comment, a knife was held next to his throat, the chain blades dagger brought swiftly to Curam’s neck, his hands stopping in place. Michaelis’s void-like eyes’ ruby cores glimmered and stabbed into the doctor’s own pupils, rage stretching across his face.

“It was a joke. Titania’s kind of a prick anyway, and it’s not my business.” The doctor sighed, uninterested in the blade brought to his neck, as a drop of blood slithered down to his chest. Michaelis backed away, hopping onto a countertop, sitting as he sighed heavily, Curam putting his own palm to his neck, removing it to show no wound remaining at all.

“So,” the doctor finally looked at the assassin, as he continued to heal up the orc’s wounds. “What sort of ‘power’ did you get for this mission?”

“I… I’m not entirely sure. Abilities, blessings? I’m not the most well informed when it comes to how they work, I’m more of a man of action.” Michaelis explained, placing his palm on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as a drop of sweat flowed down his forehead.

Ilgar snapped up on the table, causing it to completely collapse through, each wooden leg giving out simultaneously as the orc fell to the ground below with a crash. The doctor exhaled, exasperated as he left the room. Ilgar looked up to Michaelis, smiling despite the crimson which painted his person, giving his ally a metal thumbs up.

“What did you do Ilgar?” Mick questioned, hopping off of the countertop and bending down to the orcs level, as Curam returned to the room holding a cloth which he threw on top of the green giant’s head.

“Clean that blood off your… everything.” The specialist chuckled, as he poured himself a cup of water from a pot, leaning against the countertop as the pair conversed.

The orc began wiping the cherry liquid off of his face before he began speaking. “Well, the Iron lady smashed up the mind blade- she was really strong.” Ilgar shivered, rubbing into the areas his blood had leaked from originally, “And an orb of light came out of it, it was really pretty and really white, and I remembered what Fola did for us-”

Curam dropped his cup on the ground, it shattering, as the orc mentioned the blood Gods name, Michaelis wincing, “Right yeah, uh,” Michaelis began explaining, “Fola was the one who asked us to kill the God of Gold.” 

The doctor rubbed the bridge of his nose, waving to Michaelis, “Keep going Ilgar,” he sighed, picking up the fragments of his cup.

“So remembering what Fola did,” Ilgar continued without much interest in Curam’s reaction, or even real acknowledgement of where the orc had found himself, “I pushed it into my heart, and it made me a lot like you- so like-,” Ilgar paused, putting his hand on his chin, thinking for a moment as Michaelis put his own hand back on his heart.

“My eyes were all glowing and I thought crazy fast, I was able to dodge and think before I was even hurt! It was magical, but after I killed the iron lady it felt like too much.” He rubbed his temple with the bottom of his palm, looking to the ground.

“But when I took in the white power, my orange one went out my back, and I couldn’t make things explode, so when I put that one back in my chest I was able to make explosions again! But then that time, the bloody one given by Fola came out and I couldn’t make bloody axes anymore.”

Curam nodded as he put the smashed cup into the trash, approaching Michaelis and placing his hand on his shoulder, a green light flowing from his palm and restoring the mercenaries stamina.

“Then from the lady’s body, two more orbs came out! One of them was red, but not as red as the blood one, and then the other was grey like a rock.” Ilgar explained, pulling the ball out of one of the pockets in his armour, both Michaelis and Curam coming close to inspect it.

It was like a ball of steel incarnate, solid, sturdy and full of potential. Ilgar smiled, planting it back into his pocket, grinning like an idiot. “And what are you doing with that?” Mick asked, dumbstruck.

“It’s a surprise for someone else!” Ilgar exclaimed, chuckling.

Curam sighed, putting his own palm over his face, “Is there anymore to this story?”

“Oh, well I absorbed the red orb, and the white orb went out my back, and then I tied the blood and white one's together to give to you! I thought you’d like them because they’re sort of what you’re doing anyway.”

Michaelis looked surprised, and then slightly horrified, “How on earth did you keep absorbing blessings over and over- it feels like you’re being torn in half!”

“Well, if I was struggling against a human I thought you might be struggling against a God, and if you needed my help I couldn’t sleep until you got it!” Ilgar exclaimed with a smile, beaming like an idiot, as Curam began chuckling.

“You have a good heart Ilgar,” the doctor muttered, putting a hand on the orc’s shoulder, before looking back up to Michaelis.

“So from what I can gather, you’re currently running with not just one, but two instinct blessings and two blood blessings?” The doctor inquired, before standing up and pouring himself another cup of water, the pair of god hunters looking up to him.

“I’ll take your confused silence as a probably. You see, a human heart can only handle two blessings at a time, but if you put in a third blessing that is the same type as one of the two, they stack.” Curam would clench both of his fists, grabbing one fist with the other, to make a ball with both hands.

“Stacking doesn’t make you stronger, but it means you can use more of a blessing for less stamina, I think a blessing stacked twice... cuts your aura drain about in half, when you use that blessing.” Curam tapped the tip of his chin, as Michaelis was suddenly struck with glee, looking to his palms before making a pair of fists with excitement. “It’s unfortunate you didn’t get that Gold God’s blessing though.”

Michaelis looked to Curam in confusion, “Gods blessings don’t stack, human using them or not, but a Gods blessing takes one fifth the amount of aura compared to a regular blessing.” Ilgar sat with a stupid look on his face as Michaelis pondered,

“Then the real question is,” he looked up to Curam, worry on his face, “What does Fola need a Gods blessing for?”

###

Kaze looked up into the air, the sun high in the sky reflecting against his snow-white hair, with his longsword at his hip. “I appreciate you inviting me to go hunting with you, Fenris!” The young man said with a smile, looking to the sunwolf, whose grey fur was standing on end, as he sniffed the winds.

The beastman’s metal gauntlets were tight around his fists, “Of course!” The sunwolf exclaimed to his companion, “I heard you almost single-handedly defeated the God of Sand, I show only respect to the strong!” Fenrisolace bellowed with a gentle smile.

“Right,” Kaze chuckled awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t realise you hunted game though Fenris, what sort of creatures do you go after?”

The sunwolf pondered for a moment, before grinning menacingly, “The strongest creature I can find. We’re not just out here to hunt though,” he scratched the underside of his nose, “I’ve got to deliver some of my Feints to the other sunwolves.” 

Kaze nodded, mostly to himself, as he continued to walk through Foraoise Forest with his fellow hunter of Gods. “I didn’t think the sunwolves would really need money, though I suppose I don’t know much about them,” Kaze commented with a chuckle, looking to Fenris who was no longer there.

“Fenrisolace?” Kaze muttered, looking around himself, the beastman completely gone.