The Cult of Amaymon Part 7

Gray invested himself in trying to think of different ways for him to gain actual combat skills without wasting too much time. Though the idea of merely gaining combat experience through continuous battle seemed like the most obvious answer, it was also the most likely to get him killed. If there ever came a day where he would have to fight someone on Gazef’s level, he wouldn’t live to enjoy the experience he had gained from such a battle. He had gotten luckty in the past, but if he continued he was certain that he would one day meet his end. After pondering on the subject for a few hours he fell asleep.

*Knock* *Knock*

Gray woke up with a start, reflexively creating a blood pistol in his right hand.

“Who the fuck is knocking on my door at this hour?” complained Gray as it was already dusk. He quickly dismissed the blood pistol before going to open the door.