The Mad God smiled and delivered a single jab of his finger to Pilgrim’s chest. He flew from his feet as if struck by a warhammer, landing hard and sliding across the smooth marble of the floor to collide with the forest of slanted pillars. Too stunned to move, he could only watch as Seeker drew her scimitar and launched herself at the Mad God, screaming in challenge. He laughed as he swatted her aside, sending her into a high overhead tumble to impact on the marble twenty paces away.

“Now, Your Highness,” the Mad God said, advancing towards Pilgrim with a brisk, purposeful stride. “Time to educate you in your new responsi-”

His words died as something very fast flickered at the edge of Pilgrim’s vision. The Mad God let out a flaming roar of pain, sinking to his knees and reaching for the crossbow bolt embedded in his shoulder. A whirring sound drew Pilgrim’s gaze to the Crescent’s entrance. Player had regained both his mask and his crossbow, and stood working the windlass of the latter with inhuman speed, sliding the string into the lock and slotting a fresh bolt in place in the space of mere seconds. He trained it on the Mad God as he roared again, struggling to his feet. The second bolt slammed into his uninjured shoulder with sufficient force to send him onto his back.

Player reloaded the crossbow with the same unnatural rapidity as he advanced to stand over the Mad God’s writhing form. He stared up at the masked figure with his burning eyes blazing hatred, spitting curses in a language Pilgrim had never heard but sent a jolt of pain through him with every word.

Demon tongue, the voice told him. Not meant for mortal ears, my liege. Mortals don’t react well to it.

The Mad God’s defiance transformed into a roaring scream as Player methodically loosed two more bolts into each of his legs. Player spoke then, employing the same pain-inducing tongue, the voice translating for Pilgrim’s benefit.

“Thine tenure in the mortal realm is decreed over,” Player informed the Mad God. “The balance hath tipped, and must be restored.”

The four bolts speared into the Mad God’s flesh began to glow then, bright points of light blossoming then exuding tendrils of shimmering energy that instantly joined together, creating a fiery cage.

“Thou…” the Mad God grated, flames pouring from his mouth and nostrils, “hath not the rank…”

“The Triumvirate commands me.” Player reloaded the crossbow once more and trained it on the prostrate demon’s head. “Punishment awaits thee in the Infernus.”