He Who Fights with Monsters (He Who Fights with Monsters, #1)

by Shirtaloon

“Well, if you’re only going to complete one quest objective, ‘don’t die’ is a winner.”

wasn’t ready to wear the clothes he took from a person he killed, especially when they were still wet with his blood.

Jason looked over at the covered body laying on the floor. “Was that your name? Landemere Vane?” He sighed. “Sorry I killed you, Landemere. But you tried to kill me first.”

He looked at the dark cube he was holding in his hands. Despite the slickly smooth surface it had no sheen, not reflecting the lamp light at all. If anything, it almost seemed to be absorbing the light. “That’s only completely ominous.”

It was the first time he’d gotten a look at himself since arriving. He’d been imagining himself looking like an action hero, heading into act three with masculine dirt stains reflecting enemies bested and challenges overcome. Instead he just looked grubby and ragged, the skin visible under the filth pale and taut. His Japanese facial features, inherited from his father, were even sharper than usual, making his face look gaunt. His bald head and absent eyebrows made him look manic and unhinged. His skinny body wasn’t flattered by all the muck on it either, looking less action-movie and more refugee-documentary.

It was a huge wooden affair with plush, stitched-in cushioning. He was sick of falling over in pain. Jason sat in the chair, the awakening stone in his hand. “Absorb.”

“Uh, Jason?” Rufus asked. “Yes, Rufus?” “Did you use the coin?” “I did, yes.” “I don’t want to pressure you, but did you, perchance, forget to open the cage?” “Sorry,” Jason said. “I got distracted.” “This is who you’re relying on to save us?” the woman’s voice spoke up again. “Still not helping, Anisa,” Rufus told her.