The Defender walked through the forest, carrying a torch. The Dark Mystic had to be somewhere out here. What am I going to do if I find Dark Mystic?
The Defender pulled his knife out. A bolo wouldn’t do much good and hand to hand combat was out.
He looked up at the sky. “Lord, give me strength.”
He stared down into the valley below. Mystic had to be down there, somewhere in the near complete darkness.
Rustling in the forest, to the left of him.
A shadowy figure took shape in the darkness. Too short for Dark Mystic.
The Defender sheathed his knife. “At least you’re not the Mystic.”
He turned towards the edge of the hill. “I think he’s down in the valley. He stabbed Commander Justice and headed this way. I think the two—” He lost his footing and tumbled down the hill.
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