Erik was close to several government buildings at the border, which was likely where the hounds had been patrolling when he arrived there.

  He rushed inside one of the buildings, as there was a small kitchen he could see through one of the windows. The doors were all open, which didn’t surprise him at all. Even if they had been locked, there were several broken windows he could have easily climbed through.

  He rushed back out with a medium-sized kitchen knife his magic didn’t react to at all. He got close to one of the hounds and stabbed it with the knife. It did rip the beast’s thick skin, but only barely. He tried again with as much force as he could, but it only went a little deeper.

  Erik wanted to test the knife for just that reason; would it work if he used it? Could he grab a knife, or a sword, or even a gun, and it would kill the monsters when a magical being used the weapon?

  The results were mixed. Had the beast been just a normal animal, he would definitely penetrate the thick skin with the amount of force he had used, especially considering his improved strength. The fact it managed to rip the outer layer, however, meant it had a slight effect.

  Finally, he focused on his own magic. He reached into the pool of magic he constantly felt in his chest, trying to lead it through his arm and into the knife. As the magic reached his hands he felt resistance, as if the magic didn’t want to leave him, or the knife actively refused it. He felt like he got a trickle of it through, however.

  Focusing on keeping the slight flow active, he once more stabbed the beast, and the knife went through skin and muscle, although it took more force than Erik had hoped. The low rumble of the beast stilled.

  After putting down both hounds, Erik attempted cutting himself with the knife as well. He had to see if his own defence was as high as that of the monster dogs.

  He attempted it without the flow of magic first, and while it did cut him, it didn’t draw blood before he used a bit of strength. He was definitely not impervious to damage, but he was much more resistant to it than a normal human.

  He figured his bones would almost definitely stop a bullet, but he was certain it would hurt like a right bastard.

  His motorbike was perfectly alright, and seeing that he had already killed the beasts patrolling the area, he took the time to search for food and camping supplies. There still wasn’t any power around and Erik figured the entire northern Scandinavian Empire was dark. It was likely the dogs had spread both south and east, towards Finland and beyond.

  He found a larger bag he packed the new stuff into, tying it to the back of his bike. He also tied a bulkier black box on the front, above the headlight. He could still see good enough, though it was slightly in the way.

  He still wanted to avoid most towns, as he still wasn’t confident enough he would win in fights. All it would take was one beast he didn’t see coming, or one that didn’t charge at him directly, as his frisbee-shields only covered a few metres on either side of the frisbee centre.

  All it took was one dog from his side, or one with enough intelligence or instinct to get away from the frisbee Erik threw straight at its face. He was on the lookout for one more thing, however, and that was gems.

  If he wanted to get stronger quickly, that was the easiest way right now. Rock shops or nature museums would likely be his best bet, as he wasn’t sure the tiny diamonds or rubies inserted into rings or bracelets would even be viable for absorption. It was the raw material he was after, not how pretty it was. He’d be on the lookout, as he didn’t know where to find such a place.

  Halfway towards the border to the Danish region, Erik finally found at least a trace of the military in the vicinity of Gothenburg. The sun had already set, and the sky had darkened, but it was still not entirely dark out yet.

  He drove through what could only be described as a war zone, complete with craters in the asphalt, military vehicles smashed to pieces and signs of fire. There were also hundreds of military personnel scattered around the area, likely dead for weeks.

  Erik knew it was bad when no one had retrieved the corpses of their fallen comrades. All the civilians scattered around all the way from his hometown to here was one thing, but this was the first site he’d found of actual defence, not just fleeing people.

  Erik took this opportunity to test how his magic affected guns. While his intuition said it wouldn’t work, largely based on how the knife had fared, it was at least worth a try. He took a rifle lying on the ground in between a couple of soldiers, not knowing which of them it belonged to, and tried holding it.

  Erik had never been part of the military, and had never even held a real gun before. He placed the butt firmly against his shoulder to test the comfort. He figured the most comfortable stance was the right stance, otherwise gun manufacturers should redesign their weapons.

  When he felt he had an okay grasp on it, he tried running his magic through the weapon, first from his shoulder. He experienced much more interference now than when he tried with his knife, so he changed the flow to go from his right hand. Like on the butt, he could barely even touch it with his magic.

  Eventually, this proved to be the easiest way, as the handle on the barrel with his left hand proved impossible, just like the butt. It might have something to do with the materials it was made from, he wondered.

  In the end, he couldn’t manage to get his magic all the way to the bullet, as he had to keep the flow going, otherwise it would almost immediately dissipate. This was the reason he didn’t have high hopes for any ranged weapon, not just guns.

  He couldn’t keep the magic flowing to the projectile without touching it, and a projectile you have to hold in your hand and bring it to the target yourself was simply just a small melee weapon, after all.

  Erik left the gun behind. He had no need for it. Erik continued on for an hour or two until he could barely see anything other than what was right in front of his headlight, and camped for the night.

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  The next day he drove past a few other war zones, and he was surprised how quickly he reached the Danish region. He turned onto a long bridge, and was faced with blockades along the entire highway crossing the bridge.

  Hoping there were still people alive in the area, he parked his bike close to the blockade, which was basically just one huge wall. Before he could call out, he himself was shouted at from a helmet-wearing man on the top of the wall. The man shouted in Norwegian, which warmed Erik’s heart more than he thought it would. At least some had survived.

  “Hey! This is an active battlefield, what the hell are you doing here?”

  Erik looked around. It didn’t look ‘active’, but perhaps it meant that hounds could attack any minute.

  “I live here?” Erik said half-jokingly. “Listen, can you take me to the UB? As close as possible to Leicester would be nice,” he yelled in a casual tone, looking up at the weapon-wielding man.

  “Are you armed?” the man responded, completely ignoring Erik’s attempt at a joke.

  “I got a knife and some rocks. Oh, and frisbees, if that counts. Some screws.”

  The man stared at Erik. He wasn’t even going to comment on it, Erik could see that. He turned away from Erik.

  “Open the gate! Got a civvie on the other side!” he yelled, and vanished from the edge of the wall.

  A few moments later, the gate creaked and opened, three armed soldiers coming out in all haste, two of them going straight for the motorbike and the third leading Erik inside with an arm on his back.

  All of them threw several nervous glances further down the road onto the mainland. Erik realised these people were looking quite haggard. He didn’t consider how they felt in this situation. Their countries were gone, maybe even their entire families. Everything had been taken from them, and they couldn’t do anything about it, as the villains of their story were practically unkillable. Considering they still had to fight them, putting their own lives on the line at the same time…

  As they had all entered the military camp, the gate was shut, and the tension he could sense all around him immediately lightened. Soldiers pushed his motorbike further away, and parked it along a deep green truck along the rails of the bridge before starting to search it.

  A cap-wearing woman with broad shoulders and a different attire than the soldiers walked straight towards Erik.

  “Don’t make a mess of my stuff,” he shouted over to the soldiers near his stolen bike.

  “Good day, sir. My name is General Mathisen. Welcome to Bridgefort, the northernmost European defence zone still standing. May I ask your name?” she greeted, reaching her arm out towards Erik.

  “Afternoon, ma’am. Sir?” Erik awkwardly attempted. “I’m Erik Fried.”

  “Mathisen is fine, Mr Fried. May I ask… have you been out there until now? I hope you haven’t crossed the sea in some heroic attempt at being a complete idiot?” Mathisen asked. She kept her face almost completely static, but Erik realised that was exactly what she thought he’d done. Were people doing that?

  “I came from up north, and I’m not the only one. The woods seem safe, so I’ve gone off road when close to a town. There’s a mother and her child further north, living in tents in the woods. Are you attempting to rescue those left behind?” Erik asked. He didn’t think they were, as he would’ve seen a helicopter or something if they did.

  Just then, a scream sounded from the area where they took his bike. A soldier was on the ground, quickly crawling backwards away from the bike.

  “Private Vik, what the hell?” the General screamed at the panicked man.

  “The-the box, ma’am!” he tried, pointing towards his bike.

  “I hope you didn’t make a mess of my things,” Erik interrupted.

  “What about the box, Private?” the general said, a bit calmer now. She was looking at the two other pale-faced soldiers standing stiffly next to the bike, looking into the black box on the front of his bike.

  “It’s… it’s…”

  A clear answer didn’t come.

  “What’s in the box?” she asked the other two, who couldn’t even look away, much less respond to their general.

  Mathisen stopped her advance, turning to Erik and grabbing him by the collar of his stolen shirt.

  “What. Is in. The box?” she asked with a deeply terrifying grimace. Erik did all he could not to make a pop-culture reference joke, and the soldier on the ground finally shouted what was, in fact, in the box.

  “It’s a Hellbeast!”

  The two soldiers looked up at Mathisen as she rushed over to look for herself. Her eyes practically glazed over when she saw the decapitated head of one of the beasts they had fought for months, whose kill counts numbered among hundreds of thousands by now, versus their own zero.

  The general looked at the rising number of soldiers and other military personnel around. Erik saw her thoughtful expression, and knew exactly what she was thinking. They could be killed. He wanted everyone to know that too.

  However, there was nothing they could do about it, other than helping him and Jessie if he could get her to help. They had agreed to explore their new powers together, not fight off an invasion of magical beasts. He’d understand if she said no.

  “Mr Fried. Where did you get this hellbeast head?” the general asked in a deep and commanding tone. Several of the other soldiers visibly grimaced.

  “I killed it,” he said.

  “You killed a Hellbeast? You expect me to believe that? The whole world is fighting these things, and we have yet to confirm a single kill.” The general’s words grew angrier and angrier, but when she was done, her face changed to a more regretful one. A small glimmer of hope, maybe?

  “I killed two, but I couldn’t fit the second one in there. I didn’t want to steal another car as that would make the woods much more difficult to traverse,” Erik explained truthfully.

  He’d decided to at least tell the military what they needed to hear, and right now that was the fact that magic existed, and it could kill these beasts. He needed their help, after all. And the world needed him.

  “You expect me to believe that, do you?” the general asked, her hope now much more apparent on her face and demeanour.

  “The evidence is right there, isn’t it? I don’t think anyone else has claimed a kill, so why would I do so, with evidence, fully expecting to have to kill some more with you watching before you’d believe me?”

  “You can kill more of them?” she asked.

  By now, everyone gathered in the vicinity were talking and whispering amongst themselves. The susurrus quickly became loud.

  “I can, and I will. It isn’t free, however. I need you, just like you need me. I can’t teach you to kill them, just so you know.”

  “We will speak somewhere more comfortable,” she said, looking around at the excited soldiers. “Colonel Ashleigh, get Major Svensson and meet me and Mr Fried in Command in fifteen minutes.”

  Colonel Ashleigh, a pretty woman with straight, blonde hair and blue eyes saluted the general, and jogged away. The general led Erik towards the biggest temporary building in the camp, as far as he could see, and followed him inside.

  “Mr Fried, I want you to be completely honest with me right now,” she said, sitting down behind a desk covered in paperwork, printed pictures of Hellbeasts and maps. She gestured to Erik to sit on the opposite side, on a much less comfortable chair. He did so.

  “I will be,” was all he said.

  “Did you kill one or more beasts on your way here?”

  “I did.”

  “You can do it again?”

  “I can,” he confirmed.

  “That’s all I need to know. You have the next ten minutes before the colonel and the major get here to change your answers, and I will let you leave here without any trouble. If you haven’t changed your answers by then, you are, from then on, neck deep in shit if you can’t deliver on your words, as I will, in ten minutes, decide not just for me, but for the entire world, to trust you to save us all.”

  The general spoke slowly, succinctly, and to the point. She wasn’t going to waste words, not when the fate of the world was at stake. “As you might realise, I don’t really have the authority to decide this, but considering the state of the world, I don’t care much about that. If I’m court-marshalled by the end of this, I’ll be happy so long as we win this war, do you understand?”

  “You’re my kind of gal,” Erik grinned at the much older general. “With your help, we can save the world.”