Abomination
Melas: Book One

V.A. Lewis

To my wonderful mother,

Thank you for supporting me

And my passion for writing.

I wouldn’t be here

Without you.

Disclaimer

Copyright © 2020 MelasD / V.A. Lewis

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form possible without permission from the author or publisher. For permissions, contact the author or publisher through email at delta201@melaswebserial.com

Cover art version 1design and illustration by Tsuurot

Cover art version 2 design and typography by Boboplushie

https://melaswebserial.com/

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Table of Contents

Contents

Abomination Melas: Book One

Disclaimer

Table of Contents

Chapter 1: Prologue - Murdered

Part One: Paradise

Chapter 2: Magic

Chapter 3: First Step

Chapter 4: Stranger Danger

Chapter 5: Monster Attack

Chapter 6: Leaving

Chapter 7: Standing Prayer

Chapter 8: Fall

Chapter 9: Destiny's Child

Chapter 10: Interlude - Villamcreek

Part Two: Escape

Chapter 11: Free Lands

Chapter 12: Slave

Chapter 13: Hunger

Chapter 14: Troublemaker

Chapter 15: Nightmare

Chapter 16: Light Bump

Chapter 17: A Brief Reprieve

Chapter 18: Bys, the Free City of Slaves

Chapter 19: Live

Chapter 20: Shaken

Chapter 21: Abominations

Chapter 22: Deus Ex Machina

Chapter 23: Interlude II - Hunters

Part Three: Reality

Chapter 24: Begging and Stealing

Chapter 25: Dark Crusader

Chapter 26: Outpost

Chapter 27: Starved and Stronger

Chapter 28: Test

Chapter 29: Annoyed Learning

Chapter 30: Feeding Hunger

Chapter 31: Iron-y Golems

Chapter 32: Sneaky Escape

Chapter 33: Close-quarters Combat

Chapter 34: Choices, Choices, Choices

Chapter 35: Fort Conon

Chapter 36: Compromise

Chapter 37: The Right Decision

Chapter 38: Interlude III - The Saint

Author’s Note

Read More

Chapter 1: Prologue - Murdered

When I woke up, there was nothing.

A pure white empty space that seemed to stretch for all eternity was all that I saw; an expansive blank canvas filled my vision, nothing else in sight—

“Greetings.”

“What the—“ I spun around to see the source of the voice. A man appeared in front of me, a sudden figure amidst the eternal whiteness. “Um, who are you?” I asked.

The man seemed to ponder over my question. As he did, I took that moment to note his features; at first, he looked handsome. His golden-blonde hair fell to his shoulders, and his pale skin gave off an inhumane glow. His piercing blue eyes flickered as his gaze turned heavenward.

But as I continued scrutinizing him, his appearance gradually became more indistinct. His skin blended into the white background, and his eyes seemed like it held no life in it. He still looked handsome to me; almost unnaturally so.

He’s like a mannequin with a wig!

The man finally seemed to finish thinking over my question, as if I had asked him something so profound. He lowered his head to face me, and opened his mouth to speak.

“So, due to the circumstances surrounding your death, you have the opportunity to start your life anew in another world. Of course, you can reject this offer and just pass onto the afterlife. But if you decide that you want to be reincarnated into another world, you can make a single demand for your new life.”

The man just ignored me!

He completely ignored my question and started rambling about… my death? I don’t remember dying…

Actually I remember something— something about a truck? It was all a blur, and the more I tried to think about it, the more my head hurt.

Wait, if I’m dead, does that mean—

“Are you God?” I asked.

The man once again seemed to put effort to think over my question.

“I am similar to your understanding of God, yes.”

Oh good, he actually answered my question this time, even if it was in a roundabout way. Similar to God, huh? I guess I really was dead, though I still have a lot of questions. If he was what he said he was, let’s hope he can answer some of them.

“Um,” I began, trying to figure out what to ask first. “Do you maybe know how I died?”

“Yes I do.” This time he replied directly without any deliberation. Why couldn’t he have just done that for my other questions? Oh well, as long as he answers my questions properly now.

“So… how did I die?”

“I killed you.”

“Ah, you killed me… wait, WHAT?”

Did this god-like being just admit to murdering me? And he did it without even missing a beat. It’s like he’s treating my death like it was nothing. No, actually, he IS treating my death like it was nothing!

“Why the FUCK did you kill me?!” I snapped.

“As I said, your death was a result of the circumstances of the situation. You see, an out of control truck was headed in the direction of a child who would later on in life find the cure to cancer. So, I redirected the truck to avoid crashing into the child, and it just so happened that you were on the sidewalk directly next to the child.”

Oh, that made… sense? Of course if you had to choose between saving a kid who would cure cancer and save millions of lives, and little old me, you would save the kid every single time; it was a typical moral dilemma.

I was sure that if I had to choose between myself and the child, I too— with some apprehension— would save the kid… wait. I remembered something else.

“Y-you do realize that…”— I grimaced as the memories flashed through my head— “that I was about to save that kid, right?!”

A boy fell while crossing the street, and I watched as a truck came at him full speed without stopping. I ran over to grab the kid, when suddenly, the truck sped up and swerved— I flinched as I recalled the impact.

Upon hearing my words, the man just shrugged. “How was I supposed to know that?”

“How were you supposed to—?! The same way you knew that boy would cure cancer!”

“That child is fated for greatness. You on the other hand…” he said as he raised his hand and waved at me dismissively. "You don’t expect me to pay attention to every random person, do you?”

WOW. I couldn’t believe this. Sure I may not have planned to cure cancer, solve world hunger, or bring world peace. But I had plans!

I had just got accepted to the top University in my State, and was planning to go to law school after I was finished. I wanted to be a pro bono lawyer; one who protected the innocent and helped those in need. Obviously, I wanted to make money as well. But still!

I had my whole future ahead of me, and now I was…

I am dead.

It fully dawned on me. The suddenness of knowing that I lost my future, my family, and my friends, all coalesced into a feeling of anguish that hit me like… like an out of control truck!

Heh. I smirked at my own joke. At least I still had my sense of humor even when dead. But even that brief reprieve ended when the man spoke.

“As I mentioned previously, you can choose to live a second life in another world. Of course, starting anew would be difficult, so I will grant you one request to aid you in this new life.”

Oh yeah, he did mention that earlier. I was too focused on the absurdity of everything else to actually care about it. But reincarnation huh? Sounds like something out of an anime my friends would watch. Something something reincarnated as a—

My train of thought was interrupted once again by the man, who took my silence as a cue to resume his spiel.

“If you are worried about any possible drastic differences between your world and your new one, you should put yourself at ease. Though there are many different intelligent species in this world, not only are they mostly humanoid, but Humans do exist in this world. And even if it might be similar to historical Europe, technology is replaced by the workings of mana.”

Mana? So there’s magic, like in those MMORPG’s? That line of reasoning made perfect sense to me.

So it would have magic, and there were many different sapient species’. There would obviously be a lot of possible conflicts between species, since Earth had a lot of racial tensions even within the same species. I did not want to die again; especially not to something dumb like being born to the wrong species.

Since I could make a single request, I obviously would want to ask to remain safe. Hm, it feels like I am missing something obvious. As I was thinking, the man continued.

“The extent of the request you can make is obviously limited. It will be limited to the circumstances of your birth, you can not ask me to make you into a god, nor can you ask for more requests. You can however, ask for things like money and power.”

I couldn’t ask for more requests, or to make me like him. What are you, a genie?

Money was obviously a no go. If it was limited to my birth, I would probably be born to some stuck up noble family. I did not want to deal with politics, especially not that of a world similar to medieval Europe.

Power on the other hand, was quite appealing. I wanted to stay safe, and since magic was a thing...

“How about power in magical talent?” I spoke for the first time in a while, “Like let’s say, I want to be the most powerful mage in the entire world. Can you... uh, grant this request?”

The man seemed to once again ponder on my question, this time however, he placed his hand on his chin as he slowly spoke.

“I can do… something like that, yes. You can be reborn with the potential to be the most powerful... spellcaster… or magic wielder, if you wish.”

Ugh he’s doing that ‘deep thought’ thing again. I really disliked this man; the way he spoke— his careful deliberation over each of his responses— was irritating. And more than that, he killed me. So I had no reason to like him.

It was annoying. I was annoyed. I had lost everything and I was dead. I just wanted to get away from this man. So I agreed.

“Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Make me the most powerful spellcaster, or whatever. You know what I mean, just do it.”

“If that is what you wish to be reincarnated as…”

“Yes. That is what I wish to be reincarnated as. Hurry it up.”

“As you wish,” the man said.

As soon as the words left his mouth and his lips curled into a smile, the white world around me began dissolving into absolute nothingness.

The blank canvas was replaced by a void of emptiness, where all sensations, all thoughts, and all emotions left my body. Time seemed to stretch for an eternity, yet the moment passed in an instant.

And when I woke up, I was crying.

—————————————————

The cabin stood alone amidst the darkness. It was not far from the village, but it was still separated by the forest and the wildlife living in it. The moon hung directly overhead— its silvery light illuminated the cabin’s features.

It looked newly built. A year old at most. Its size was nothing remarkable; the dull brown of the wood its most prominent feature.

A high pitched wail cut through the night. An incessant cry from a baby stirred the animals and little critters awake. They bounded for cover, fleeing their homes as the screaming continued.

A woman sat up on a bed. Her long black hair ran down her back, covered only partially by the pointed hat that she wore. Her silver eyes gently gazed upon her arms.

No. Not at her arms, but at the child cradled in them. She soothed the child and caressed it, careful not to agitate it any further.

Slowly, the crying died down, and the woman smiled. Her smile only enhanced her beauty, for her looks alone would charm any man. But she was not trying to charm anyone, she was simply happy.

Her lips parted, and a soft voice came out, matching her young appearance. She looked no more than twenty. Not mature enough to look after herself, let alone a child. Yet she had a child, and it was her child that she spoke to.

“My beautiful daughter,” she said, stroking the child’s head, “there’s no need to cry.”

Slowly, so as to not disturb her daughter, the woman leaned over and kissed her on the forehead.

The child shifted slightly upon contact, and her eyes gradually opened up, revealing the same set of piercing silver-colored eyes of her mother. And as their gaze met, the woman felt her emotions well up inside of her. Fear, sorrow, and anger, all gathered together deep in her heart. But one emotion triumphed above it all. One that filled her with determination, strength, and hope.

Love.

Her love for her daughter washed away all the negative feelings she felt at that moment. The woman knew that all that mattered now was the child in her arms. That her daughter was safe. So when the woman spoke again, her voice was resolute.

“Do not cry my daughter, I am here for you. Even if they come for you, you will always be safe. You are my life now and forever. I will always love and protect you, Melas.”

Upon hearing the woman’s words, the child gently closed her eyes again. For a moment, she looked calm and at peace, almost as if she understood the woman’s words and trusted it with all her heart. Almost as if she believed that she would always be protected by her mother, no matter what happened.

Of course, that was not the case.

Did she say MELAS?! As in Salem? Like the Witch trials? Oh my God, and my mother is a Witch. I am SO going to be burned at the stake.

And then the baby cried.

Part One: Paradise

Paradise

Chapter 2: Magic

"—and using the gifts of the Goddess, the Great Hero Xander slayed the Demon Lord, saving the world from his darkness."

Mr Walden finished the story, only to be greeted by half a dozen yawns. A brown haired boy piped up, raising his hand.

"This story is boring. Don’t you got another one?"

I glanced past the small gathering of village kids, all huddled around in front of the middle aged man sitting on his stool, straight at the boy who spoke. His name was Adrian. And he was not the only kid here with a bored look on their face. The message was pretty clear: they all wanted to be literally anywhere else but here.

I partially agreed with that sentiment. Not because I wanted to hear another, more interesting story from Mr Walden; it was because we had all heard this same story more times than most of the kids here could count. Not me, though— I was not a kid.

...am I really comparing myself with literal ten year olds?!

Technically, I was the same age as most of them; my physical body made me appear like I was no older than these kids— which was true if you only considered the time I spent in this world. However, I was mentally almost two decades older than every single one of the kids gathered here right now.

However, almost as if he was ignorant of the level of intellect or wisdom a kid possessed, Mr Walden began lecturing us on the importance of his tale.

"There are many stories I could indeed tell you, many of which I heard during my time in the Capital. However, I don’t believe those stories would be for your best interests. They may be interesting. They may even be full of excitement and wonder, which I am sure you children would love. But, those stories would not do anything for you. They would only serve to entertain you, something which you children already do for yourself. There are no lessons to be learned, and no morals to be taught."

"What can we learn, Mr Walden?" this time, I was the one to raise my hand and speak. "From the story. What morals or lessons does it teach us?"

"Ah, Melas, there are a great many things for you to learn. But I can not tell you what they are. It’s something that you must learn yourself, else its meaning will be lost on you."

I fought the urge to groan at his ‘sagely advice’, though the same could not be said for most of the kids. Mr Walden sighed.

"If you need to know, I will tell you one thing, and one thing only, before you leave for today."

Mr Walden paused, hoping to gather all of our attention before he started. Once he realized that I was the only one even paying any semblance of attention to him, he took a deep breath and reluctantly began.

"Never sully the Goddess’ gifts," the middle aged man spoke in a solemn voice. He cast his gaze throughout the group of bored kids, before stopping at me. We locked eyes, and as if he was addressing only me, he continued. "The world we live in, the mana it produces, it has all been given to us by the Goddess. But if you were to defile it, you would be no different from the Demons we have fought to destroy."

With that, Mr Walden got up from his seat and slowly walked away; upon seeing him leave, everyone else started to disperse too. Instead of following after the kids running around to play or chat, I remained seated on the floor for a moment longer.

Defile mana, huh? I looked heavenwards, staring at the clear blue sky of day.

What was mana? It was supposedly the fundamental building block of… everything. When the Goddess created this world, she used mana as the base of all things, living and nonliving. It permeated throughout the air we breathed, the food we ate, and the body we lived in. Whether it be Humans, Elves, Dwarves, or even Monsters, every living being needed mana to live— to simply exist.

And yet, the Demons defiled mana, and thus creation itself. They took the creations of the Goddess and defaced it, desecrating the world, and destroying its mana. They went against the Goddess of Light, and spat on Her face. They took her gifts from her, just to throw it away. And for what?

What could they possibly gain from committing such blasphemy? Why would they take Her grace, and drag it over the ground?

Why?

The answer was simple: for magic, of course.

Several thousand years ago, the first magic was performed. A Demon, learned to take mana— the very essence of this world— and used it for his own purposes. At first, it was seen as a miracle. A power bestowed upon this Demon by the Goddess Herself. He used this power to start fires, to build shelter, and to gather food. Demons looked to him for protection, and he provided it. Because of his power, every Demon saw him as special, and eventually made him their lord. But, the Demon Lord did not think his powers were special. And one day, he finally proved it.

The Demon Lord began teaching magic to all Demons, believing that this power could change the world; to him, it was a universal gift of the Goddess, and he wanted everyone to learn about this… magic.

The Demon Lord first invited the Dwarves and showed them his magic, but they dismissed it as easily replaceable through their technology; then he sent for the Humans, and even though they were interested in it, they did not stay to learn; and when he called for the Elves, they never came. The Demon Lord was dejected, he wanted to show them this power, but they did not want to see it.

But the Demon Lord thought magic to be good, so he sent his people out to spread it far and wide. And as his people began teaching their ways to all the peoples of the world, he learned more about it. He slowed his aging, sustained himself without food, and forwent all manners of rest. It was a life free from suffering, one which he taught his people how to live.

Without the need for food, they neglected their crops; without the need to rest, they travelled the world; without the fear of old age, they enjoyed mundane lives. As they became more carefree with this power— as their cities and farms fell into disrepair— it was not surprising that they never once realized what was happening to their lands: that they were destroying their home.

It was then unfortunate timing that only at this point, did other species’ begin to take interest in this magic, and so a delegation of all the great powers in the world were sent to Hell to meet the Demon Lord. But when they arrived, they did not see a gift of the Goddess, but a perversion of it.

They saw a land blighted over and cursed by darkness. Food could barely grow from the dead earth, and what few animals that remained were pale and thin— even the Monsters fled, seeking more mana-rich lands.

So instead of finally accepting their magic, the peoples of the world decried it as blasphemy. As heresy. They demanded that the Demons stopped defiling the Goddess’ gifts, but the Demons who grew dependent on it refused. So, to protect the sanctity of the Goddess— to protect Her light— thus began the Holy Wars that raged on for millennia. With that, magic became outlawed, and the practitioners of magic were deemed heretics. Which leads us to now.

A hundred years ago, the Demon Lord was finally killed and his forces defeated; the few allies he had in the form of Goblins and Orcs, all fled Hell, seeking shelter or a place to hide. With that, ended the era of the Demons, starting anew with the ones who brought about their destruction— the Holy Xan Empire.

Named after the Great Hero Xander himself. Formed by him too. And with the support of the Church, they maintained world peace by… hunting down every magic-user in the world, and killing them for heresy.

And isn’t that just great?

I asked for the potential to become the world’s most powerful magic-user, but coincidentally, it’s illegal!

It was definitely this way because of pure happenstance, and definitely not the work of some jerk fake-god who just wanted to mess with me even more after he killed me. I really hate that guy, I sighed as I uncrossed my legs. I finally stood up, getting ready to leave—

Only to be met with a pair of hazel eyes, staring down at me.

Adrian was standing next to me, looking like he wanted to say something. I hoped he hadn't been standing there the entire time. Because that would’ve been really awkward if he was just waiting for me while I sat there thinking for the past ten minutes. Who am I kidding, I am awkward. I don’t know how to act like a normal kid!

Not knowing about my internal monologue, Adrian finally found the courage to speak. "You heading home, Melas?" he asked, quickly averting his eyes from me. As I nodded my head in response, he continued. "Can I walk with you for a bit?"

"Sure," I said simply, and began walking.

I didn’t want to seem rude, but I honestly did not know what else to say to him. It was so obvious he liked me, and that he worked up a lot of courage to simply talk to me. But unlike him, I am not a kid!

Adrian was only a year older than me. Which— because of my past life— still made him a kid in my book. Even if he suddenly doubled in age and grew up to be extremely handsome, I would not be interested in him by the sheer fact that I knew him since he was a little kid!

So we walked in awkward silence as I headed out of the village., Adrian’s eyes darted around between me and the houses surrounding us. His eyes never lingered on me for more than a second, always seeming to rest on the single storey wood buildings that we passed by.

But in spite of his nervousness, Adrian was generally a sociable person. The boy waved a hand at a burly middle-aged shopkeep, as we passed by his shop. I, on the other hand, had no idea who that was, so I kept my face straight and continued walking.

We arrived at the wooden palisade’s that surrounding the perimeter of the small village after a bit. It was a short walk. Not long at all. Because this village, Villamcreek, was in the outskirts of the Rem Republic, and barely even housed a couple hundred people.

I turned to face Adrian, and he quickly looked away. After a moment of fidgeting, he finally spoke, still facing the gate.

"I hear you’ve been helping out your mom— Ms Aria— these days. You’ve been heading into the woods alone and gathering herbs?"

The question came out more as a statement rather than a question, so I gave him a curt nod.

"I see," that was all he said for a bit.

He faced me after a moment, deciding to finally speak up again.

"I hear from my dad that more and more monsters have been showing up— that the woods aren’t as safe anymore."

As he paused for a second, I tilted my head to the side, unsure where he was going with this.

"I know Ms Aria needs the herbs. I know you need to help her out. So, I’ve been thinking. I’ve been learning to use dad’s pistol— to work its mana crystal. I was thinking that maybe I should go with you, next time you go out. Keep you safe, you know?"

Ah, I see how it is. Sure, I did not mind his company to be honest. Going into the woods by myself to gather medicinal plants was quite boring. Plus, he was offering to protect me, which had no downsides.

And, the fact that he could work a pistol was actually quite impressive; mana crystal were supposed to be quite difficult to use. Most only learned how to properly use one in their teens, and only the simple ones at that. The mana crystal of a pistol may not be the most advanced, but it certainly was not the most basic either.

"Sure," I said. "Thank you, Adrian."

Upon hearing my response, his face turned a shade pinker, before managing to mumble out a response.

"No problem."

Adrian quickly turned and stalked back the way we came, while I left the gates of Villamcreek, to head back home.

The walk home took no more than 20 minutes. The sun was still high in the sky, although it was beginning to head down. As I approached my house, I stopped at the sight of a woman. The woman stood at the front of the house, her back turned to me as she tended to some flowers. She was not just any old gardener however, she was the village’s Herbalist— or, my mom.

A quick glance at her would tell you that she and I were related. She looked just like me, except if I were a decade older. We both had long black hair— although mine only went down to my shoulderblades, while hers went down to her torso. And as she heard my approach, she slowly turned around, our silver eyes meeting as she did.

There stood my mom. My beautiful mom. She was not my mom from Earth, nor does she know that I was reincarnated from another world. But that did not matter, because she was my mom. She was as real as my mom from Earth, and I loved her just as much.

Since I was reborn, this woman was there for me. When I first saw her, I did not like her. I did not want her to be my mom, because I already had a mom back on Earth. I was lost and confused in this new world, and threw tantrums over every little thing. Yet she was patient with me. She fed me, taught me, and loved me.

She loved me simply because I was her daughter, and when I realized that, I felt so ashamed. I acted worse than a child, worse than a rebellious teenager, and worse than an estranged daughter. She was my mom, and when I saw her standing there, I felt a tingling sensation in my heart.

My chest felt warm, my cheeks loosened up, and for the first time that day, I smiled.

Chapter 3: First Step

"Mommy!" exclaimed the girl, running up to the woman with open arms.

Aria accepted her daughter’s affectionate hug, wrapping a hand around the girl’s back, and using the other to gently stroke her head. The two lovingly held onto each other for a moment, before Aria spoke.

"How was your day, dear?"

"It was good! I went gathering this morning, and was at Mr Walden’s lesson since noon. I was going to tend to the garden when I got back, but I didn’t know you would be home so early today!"

Aria felt herself smile at her daughter’s excited chattering. She knew for a fact that this was the most the girl had spoken today. Her daughter never usually spoke much to others. In fact, she only ever acted this way towards Aria. The young woman had seen her daughter interact with both other children her age and the adults of the village— to say that it was tedious to watch, was a complete understatement. She only ever spoke when spoken to, barring some exceptions such as asking questions when in Walden’s lesson. And even then, she never minced words, always direct and to the point.

So, as Aria stood there, she allowed herself to tease her daughter.

"Would you have preferred me to not be home, my dear?" said Aria, hiding a hint of a smile.

"Wha— no!" sputtered Melas, quickly letting go of her mother and looking up. Upon noticing Aria’s smile however, she pouted. "You know that’s not what I meant!"

"I know, I know."

Aria was aware that she had not been home as often these days. Because of the recent surge of Monster activity, she was out from dawn to dusk, working to gather more herbs than normal. And when she was home, she was also busy brewing up new medicine for the village. Knowing this, her daughter had been going on gathering trips on her own, to help lessen Aria’s workload. She knew that her daughter did that so they could spend more time together, which was why she came home early this day.

After the two finally separated from their hug, Aria took her daughter’s hand, leading her inside the small cabin.

"How was Mr Walden’s lesson today?" asked Aria, as they entered the house.

"Not good. Your lessons are so much better!"

The door closed behind them, as Aria let go of her smiling daughter’s hand and turned to face her.

"Melas," said the mother in a stern voice.

The little girl protested. "But it's true!"

"I know, but..." sighed Aria. She knew her daughter was right. Walden might have been smart, smart enough to have been sent by the village to be educated at the country’s Capital of Remheart, but he just did not know how to teach children.

Even so, Aria also knew that Walden did not have to hold his lessons. He did not make any money from teaching the village children four times a week. He did it because he believed that knowledge was important in a child’s growth, and he wanted to give the village children the chance to learn from a young age. That was why Aria had to be stern.

"But Walden is still teaching you things that are important for your future. So whatever you may think of his lessons, it is important that you listen."

Upon hearing that, Melas opened her mouth to say something, then hesitated. After what was clearly some internal conflict where her better judgement lost, the little girl decided to continue.

"But it’s obviously not true! He keeps telling us the fake Demon Lord story! He keeps going on about how all Demons are bad, how magic is bad, and how the Godd—"

"Melas!"

Aria interrupted her before she could continue, this time taking on a horrified tone. She knew what her daughter was about to say if she let her continue, and she would not let her say it, even if no one was around to hear it. Implying that Demons and magic were actually good was bad enough, but whatever she was going to imply about the Goddess would have been full-on blasphemy. She did not want her daughter to get into the habit of saying such things.

"Melas, my daughter, please do not say such things. The story I told you about the Demon Lord is what the Demons claimed to have happened. It is not any more true than what the Church claims in their history books."

Aria paused, eyeing her daughter to see if she would drop the subject. When it was clear that she would not, the young mother continued.

"When you asked me for the truth behind Demons and magic, I believed that you would understand that neither side held the truth. You are a very smart girl, Melas, that is why I told you what I knew. And I still believe you are, so why are you acting like you are not?"

Aria knew that Melas would be hurt by that, but it needed to be said. She needed Melas to know that the way she was thinking was extremely dangerous, and she had to know the reasoning behind her daughter’s thoughts. Aria however, was not prepared for what was said next.

"B-because, I want to learn magic!"

Aria was speechless. She stood there, mouth agape, and eyes open wide. Melas saw this, and took the opportunity to continue as quickly as she could.

"Adrian told me that it has been dangerous lately. There are more Monsters appearing nearby— he offered to protect me. He knows how to use a mana crystal already and can use his dad’s pistol! But what if he isn’t around? What if I get attacked by a monster? I can’t protect myself. I can’t even use a mana crystal— I’ll just die! Magic is, uhm, pretty much the same thing as working a mana crystal, right? So please teach me magic!"

Melas knew that she was just rambling. She was listing off any possible reasons why she should learn magic, even ones that didn’t make sense. She just needed to make up a good enough reason to not get scolded. All Melas could do now was give her mom the best puppy dog eyes she could give. Seeing that, Aria sighed.

"Fine."

"I’m sor— wait… fine?" Melas blinked in surprise, "You’ll teach me magic?"

Aria sighed again.

"No, I will not teach you magic, Melas. But you are right, you are not safe."

Melas immediately slumped her shoulders in disappointment, though she was clearly relieved that at least her mother wasn’t mad at her.

"You rely on others, because you are not safe. You are not safe, because you can not protect yourself. You can not protect yourself, because you rely on others. But what can others do that you can not?"

Melas did not answer because she knew it was a rhetorical question, instead she let her mom continue.

"Others can use mana crystals," Aria said matter-of-factly. "Mana crystals are the gifts of the Goddess that allow normal people to face Monsters far stronger than them."

Melas groaned upon hearing the Goddess mentioned, getting a glare from Aria.

Aria knew why her daughter reacted that way. Mana crystals were made from pure mana sources like mana stone mines or liquid mana wells. They always existed deep underground, but were never used until the Great Hero Xander came along, and used it to end the stalemate against the Demon Lord. Unlike manipulating the mana around you which used ambient mana, manipulating a mana crystal only used the mana inside of it. It allowed the Great Hero’s forces to use the same power that the Demons had, without violating Holy Law. That was why mana tools were sometimes called the gifts of the Goddess.

Aria ignored her daughter, and walked towards the kitchen in the corner of the room. It wasn’t very big, in fact it could hardly be called a kitchen. Cooking area was a more apt description in the young woman’s opinion.

She walked towards the stone fireplace. It had a cauldron dangling on top of some unlit firewood, but that was not where she was going. She walked slightly past it, towards a part of the back wall covered in shelves that were filled with jars.

The jars all contained different medicinal herbs, sorted by the type, and arranged neatly according to their effects. Aria reached for a shelf below that, aiming for the long wooden table that ran the length of the shelf wall.

There, she picked up a small rectangular prism, one that barely fit the palm of her hand. In one of its faces was a metallic tube protruding out a couple of inches. Its edges were made of metal, with the rest of its body seemingly made from clay. In the center of it, a fiery red mana crystal was embedded, alongside simple runes that engraved all throughout the object.

It was a lighter. A basic tool most adults used to start a fire. Though this one was a bit more fancy and lasted longer than normal ones.

Holding the lighter in her hand, Aria turned to her daughter, who followed her across the room.

"You said it yourself, Melas. Adrian knows how to use a mana crystal. That’s why he can protect you. Hence, I will teach you, so you too shall know how to use mana tools. And if the time ever comes where you have to protect yourself, without anyone else there to save you, you will be able to do so by yourself."

With that said, Aria pointed the tube part of the prism towards the fireplace, and activated the mana crystal. A small jet of red flames shot out, igniting the wood, bringing the fireplace to life.

***

It’s not working, I sighed, looking at the lighter in my hand.

When my mom did it, it looked so very easy; her explanation to me on how to work it, also sounded so very easy. She made it seem like it took almost no effort, but that was obviously not the case, since it’s been half an hour and I haven’t done anything!

I turned to look at my mom, standing with her pointed hat, working up a new brew of healing paste. It’s supposed to be able to patch up most nonlethal injuries in a single day, which was better than most medicine in my previous life.

And it was not even as good as an Alchemical healing potion, which could reattach even a severed limb. My mom could make those too, but the ingredients were too expensive, and could not be found anywhere near Villamcreek. So, the village had to make do with just the healing paste.

As she continued her work, I slowly found myself gazing at my mom in admiration. She was a Herbalist, an Alchemist, and a scholar. She could use magic, and could also use even the most advanced of mana tools around. She was so amazing, and I wanted to be just like her. But…

But I can’t even work this dumb lighter!

I found myself looking at the lighter again, and sighed even louder than before. Perhaps having the potential to be the greatest magic-user did not translate well to being able to work simple tools; I had feared that, which was why I wanted my mom to teach me magic.

I would have been amazing right off the bat— I could have quickly learned to protect myself, and maybe even be able to protect my mom if something ever happened to her.

....yeah, no.

If my mom was ever in any real danger, I did not think I’d be able to do anything to help her; she was extremely powerful, and even with the request I made to that false god, I doubted that I would be able to catch up to her anytime soon.

Then maybe... Adrian? If he was ever in trouble I could protect him if I learned magic. Wait, I can’t. If I learned magic and he found out, he’d definitely tell on me, even if I made him promise not to! Wasn’t that how those kinds of stories usually went? Yeah, it’s probably a good thing mom didn’t teach me magic.

Whatever the case was, I needed to focus. I needed to remember what my mom said. Working mana tools felt like you were trying to force mana out of the stone; it needed to feel like a nudge, and not a push. Trying to push leads to trying to manipulate too much mana at once, and would usually lead to nothing happening for most people— especially beginners.

That was because a beginner’s control over mana would still be weak and unrefined. They tended to either only slightly graze the mana, or try to shove it to the ground without the strength to actually do so. On the other hand, people who have worked mana tools for a while would have built up more strength, and would actually succeed in shoving if they wanted to.

That would lead to immediately depleting a mana crystal, which wasn’t something you wanted to do in most cases. Doing so with an everyday tool like a lighter, would just make it combust into an explosion that wouldn’t even kill you. But doing it with a weapon would most likely kill anything nearby. That’s why people also had to refine their control over the mana, and not just force it. With power, and no control, they might have accidentally destroyed the tool they were using.

None of that mattered to me, however, since I can’t use the stupid thing! I was supposed to be feeling like I’m prodding into it. Touch the mana with one finger, giving it a slight push. But that’s all too abstract for me to understand. Touching the mana? How does that even work! Isn’t everything made of mana? Aren’t I always touching mana? None of this makes any sense!

Because I had no idea what I was doing, nothing happened. I was supposed to just feel it out, but it was not working—

Suddenly, I felt it— like an extension of my body that sprouted out of nowhere. It was weak. Difficult to move. It reminded me of when I was first reborn. When I could barely even move my arms and legs; I had no strength back then, because I barely had any muscles. And yet, that wasn’t the worst part— that was the lack of control.

I knew how fingers work, considering how I’ve used them all my life. But when I became a baby again, I could not control my fingers. My fingers would never move the way I wanted it to. When I tried to move a single finger, sometimes all of them moved and sometimes none of them did. It was always completely random, and it was so frustrating.

Same thing with when I tried learning how to speak; when I opened my mouth and moved my tongue, things that barely qualified as sounds came out instead of actual words. It made me feel so out of control, and it nearly drove me insane. It was no wonder newborns did not have the brain capacity to understand or remember anything! Because if they did, I was certain most kids would grow up with some sort of complex.

Right now though, I was glad I remembered all of it. It made this new limb much easier to control. I had the experience, so all it took was just to remember how it felt, and to feel it out from there.

So using the limb, I seized the mana inside the mana crystal, and pushed. I didn’t push like an adult who was trying to start a fight in a bar, nor did I push like a kid who’s trying to get into their parents’ bedroom without waking them up. Instead, I pushed like a baby— one that’s climbing on a countertop, and sees their mothers’ expensive vase. A baby who then made the stupid decision to push the vase, simply out of pure curiosity to see what would happen.

And when I pushed, I felt the vase wobble. It wobbled on the countertop, but didn’t drop. So I did what any baby would do in that situation— I pushed again. And again. And again.

Finally, the vase fell. Off the countertop, and into the hard marble ground, shattering into thousands of tiny pieces.

And just like any mother would do, my own mom came running to me. Except however, she was not running to the sound of her expensive china shattering; something else called on her, making her run to me. My mom ran, not to witness the destruction of something precious, but to instead witness something that was precious: her daughter taking her first steps.

So, as my mom dropped everything she was doing to see what I did— to see the gentle candle-like flame hovering at the tip of the lighter— I turned to her and smiled wider than I ever did in my previous life.

"Look mom! I did it!"

Chapter 4: Stranger Danger

It’s hot.

I wiped the sweat off my forehead and looked up: the sun was high up in the sky, and there was not a cloud in sight. It’s probably noon, time to go back.

I hefted the basket filled with herbs up from the ground next to my feet, and slung it around my shoulder. It was not exactly filled to the brim, but there were still plenty of herbs in it— a satisfactory amount to bring back for the day. I walked out of the thicket of trees I was in, taking no more than a minute to reach the clearing where the brown haired boy was waiting for me.

Adrian sat leaning against a fallen tree, with one hand right next to the holster hanging off his waist. When he heard me approach, he jumped up, reaching for his father’s pistol—

"Oh, you’re back," Adrian said, visibly relaxing. Straightening, he lowered his arms and heaved out a sigh. "You scared me, y’know. You should’ve said something."

"Sorry," I spoke briefly.

But despite my quick response— which may have seemed ingenuine to most people— I actually was apologetic. The boy had been accompanying me in my gathering trips for a while, and I was grateful to him for it. Unfortunately, however, my antisocial tendencies to not announce my presence and my quiet footsteps led to him being jumpy around me whenever we went out, since he was always on alert for any Monsters or even wild animals in the area.

"It’s fine," he said, dusting himself off. "It’s just— my dad brings me out when he goes hunting, and he makes me stay on guard at all times. He says one small mistake gets you killed, right? And, uh… I don’t want either of us to die."

I nodded my head in response.

"In fact, I should’ve known better, since you always sneak up on me. But all habits die hard— that’s what mom says. So I guess my dad did a good job teaching me to be cautious, huh?" Adrian laughed.

"I won’t do it again," I said.

"Oh, no, it’s really not a problem. I was just making a joke. It’s like if you say something that’s absurd— not that I don’t think you don’t understand jokes, I just meant..." the boy trailed off, as I gave him no reaction. He quickly tried to change the subject, pointing at the basket in my hand. "You sure you wanna head back now? It’s not even full."

"We’ll be late for Mr Walden’s lesson."

He gave me a weak grin. "I don’t see how that’s a problem…?"

It was another attempt at a joke, although he did not commit fully to it; I did not know how to respond to it, so I just made a noise. "Mhm."

We both stood there awkwardly for another moment; it was not long, but it felt like forever for some reason. Finally, Adrian managed to mutter under his breath.

"...let’s go?"

I nodded again. The boy led the way back as we made our way back to the village. We continued to walk together quietly for a few minutes, before a voice finally broke the silence.

"Greetings."

The voice was hoarse and rough, definitely not belonging to the boy walking in front of me. It came from behind us, and we both whirled around to face the strange voice.

A suspicious looking man strode out from the trees behind us. No, not suspicious looking— he was literally just suspicious.

He was dressed in what was similar to a black trench coat, and wore a pointed hat like my mom usually did, except it was black, not purple. Its wide brim was twice as large too. He had both of his hands held out in a placating gesture, before either Adrian or I even saw him. Yep, definitely suspicious.

Adrian seemed to agree, as his hand was already on his holster, tightly gripping the gun. The man noticed our hostility as he took a small step back, speaking in as civil of a manner as he could.

"Now, now. I am just a traveler looking for a place to stay for the night. If you could just bring me to your village, I will truly appreciate it."

It did not work. His gruff voice betrayed his attempt at a soothing tone, and each word he spoke was over enunciated; it sounded too forced— too fake. Somehow, this was enough for Adrian to change his mind as he relaxed.

"Sure, we were just on our way back. We can show—" he started, but I didn’t let him finish.

"No."

Both Adrian and the man turned to me in surprise. Neither expected that response. And why would they? If we brought him to the village, we would be safe. He could not do anything to us there, in front of all the villagers. But it wasn’t my safety that I cared about.

This man snuck up on us without making a sound. And even though he was a ‘traveler’, he was alone and without a pack animal, in a world where Monsters roamed free in the wild. And worst of all, he was quite clearly hiding something with the way he was dressed. He could have been something like… a Witch hunter? That was a thing back on Earth, right? Not that Witches existed in this world. Powerful spellcasters were often called Dark Acolytes, apparently.

And if this man saw my mom and somehow recognized her... well, she would probably kill him. But then we would be kicked out of the village. So I was not letting this guy near Villamcreek.

"We’re not going anywhere until you leave."

The man raised an eyebrow at that, seemingly amused.

"And if I just don’t move, would you just wait here forever? Surely you’d get tired after a while and return home. Then I can just follow you back."

"Then he’ll shoot you." I pointed at Adrian, who opted to trust me and slowly unholstered his gun. I gave the man an ultimatum.

"And if you try to follow us, we’ll tell everyone that a creepy guy tried to kidnap us in the woods. We’ll tell them that he’s following us, so when you try to enter the village, they’ll shoot you. So go away."

I stood firm as the man stared at me. His eyes lingered on my face for almost a minute, before he finally broke off; he threw his hands up in resignation, sighing.

"Guess I’ll just have to find another place to stay."

With that said, the man slowly turned around, and stalked away.

Adrian and I kept our eyes on the man in silence until he was finally out of sight. When it seemed like he was finally gone, Adrian turned to me.

"Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," I said apologetically, "sorry about that."

"You sure? That’s the most I’ve heard you speak in one go. I—" he paused, turning to face me. He looked me straight in the eyes before continuing, "What happened? What was wrong with him?"

Shrugging, I turned to look up at the sky like I was in deep thought. Then slowly, I lowered my gaze back towards Adrian, and grinned.

"Stranger danger."

Adrian did not get my joke!

Of course he wouldn’t. Living in a small village, you don’t learn to be wary of strangers. I had to explain the joke to him on the way back, and got a polite laugh in return. I didn't even know why he bothered— that never makes things better when you fail at delivering a joke.

But at least I proved that I did have a sense of humor; even if he did not find me funny at all. I might have been incapable of basic social interaction ever since I came to this world, but at least I was trying.

It took us an hour to get back to the village. I didn’t drop the basket off at home, just in case the man decided to follow us. Plus, we were late for Mr Walden’s lesson. When we got there, the middle aged man was in the middle of teaching us some basic maths.

It was definitely something most kids my age should have learned years ago. Simple addition and subtraction. Nothing too complex, yet most kids seemed to be struggling with it; I quickly appeased Mr Walden’s ire at my tardiness by solving the rest of the math problems he gave us and explaining how I came to my answers.

By the end of the lesson, he seemed to have forgotten about my slight against him by being late, as he didn’t glare at me when I approached him. I told him about the suspicious man, and with Adrian’s help, managed to convince him that the man was probably some sort of criminal that wanted to harm the village, and definitely not some Inquisitor from the Church.

After that, Adrian walked me all the way home for the first time; he usually only followed me as far as the village walls, but he was worried for my safety. He insisted on staying over for a few hours, so I decided to tutor him for a bit..

I taught Adrian simple multiplication and division, since he was much smarter than most other kids. While the other kids struggled in Mr Walden’s class, he was always able to grasp everything quite quickly.

When that was done, I took out some of my mom’s books, and helped him improve his reading and writing. He was once again better than other kids at it, though he still struggled with the more complex words; I taught him a couple of words— even helping him learn some of the Venerable Language— before the sun finally began setting. It was then, he finally had to go back home.

I then spent the next hour messing with the lighter, refining my control over the mana crystal. As the sun set, and the day came to a close, my mom finally arrived back home.

***

"Welcome home mom!"

Aria was greeted by a cheerful Melas, as soon as she walked in through the door. She bent down to kiss her daughter, hugging her as she did.

"How are you, dear?"

The young woman began preparing their dinner as Melas started telling her about her day. Aria was making some mushroom stew, something which she knew her daughter liked. As she did, Melas got to the part where she decided to go home, before pausing. Being her mother, this did not go unnoticed by Aria.

"Is something the matter, Melas?" Aria asked, placing a lid over the boiling pot.

"It’s— nothing. Nothing’s wrong."

Aria frowned. She knew her daughter well enough to know that something was in fact wrong, and it was not nothing. So she turned away from the boiling cauldron, and faced her daughter with concern.

"Melas, if something happened, you can tell me."

"N-no, nothing happened!" exclaimed the little girl, before hesitating. "At least, not yet, I think…"

"Not yet?"

Blinking, Aria took a step back away from the kitchen. Now she was confused. Aria assumed that her daughter was attacked by some Monster or wild animal while out gathering, and did not want to say it in fear of being barred from going out again— not that it was something Aria would have done.

Melas was with Adrian, so maybe…

"Did something happen with Adrian?"

"Adrian— huh?"

"It’s fine, dear. Adrian is a good boy. It’s natural for children your age to start feeling that way. Though you are still young, if you feel like you have thought it through, I will approve of any boy you bring home."

"What?! No! It’s not that at all!"

Melas sighed.

"There was a man."

This time, Aria did not approve. It may have been legal in some of the Free Cities and the Puer Kingdom, but an adult and a child should not be entering into that kind of a relationship. It was not right, and not in the 'it’s just wrong' kind of way to Aria. She could actually give a plethora of logical and moral reasonings as to why it should not be allowed. As Aria opened her mouth to speak, her daughter must have sensed what she was going to say and interrupted her.

"And I don’t mean it like that. I’m talking about a suspicious man. A complete stranger who showed up in the woods."

Aria immediately clamped her mouth shut. Melas eyed her mom carefully, as if she was making sure her mom wouldn’t speak over her, before continuing.

"I think he might be an Inquisitor."

Aria froze. Inquisitors? Here? If they found her here, they would kill her and her precious daughter. It did not matter that she was just living peacefully. To them, she was still a heretic, and they would not stop until she was dead.

They needed to leave. If the Inquisitors had indeed tracked her down to even the Rem Republic, then no place was safe. They needed to stay on the move, keep on traveling for the rest of their lives. They might even have to seek protection with the Dark Crusaders… if they would even take Aria in. But wait— an Inquisitor? As in just one?

"Melas, what did you say they looked like again?

"He claimed to be a traveller. He was wearing a thick black coat, and had an oversized black hat. He had grey hair, looked to be around 50 years old. He was alone— no companions, no horses, and no travelling supplies. There’s no way a random man could do that."

"Ah." Aria sagged in relief. "He is not an Inquisitor."

"He’s not? Wait, do you know him?"

Aria shook her head. She did not know who that man was, but she knew that he was not an Inquisitor.

Inquisitors never traveled alone. They traveled in groups of four or more, and never separated from each other. Even when they went scouting, they would at least do it in pairs. That was par for the course of an Inquisitors training. Furthermore, they would never hide their distinctive armor, always bearing the sigil of the Holy Xan Empire for all to see. Whoever that man was, he was definitely not part of the Inquisitors.

So Aria told her daughter this. She reassured her daughter, telling her that her peaceful life would not go anywhere. Maybe the man was a Hunter, or a Mercenary. Or any other possible scenarios Aria could have thought of. But Melas didn’t believe any of it. She was too afraid.

"But he could be one! They could’ve changed the rules, made it so they could travel more discreet. It’s better to be safe than sorry."

"Melas, I know you are worried. But you have to trust me, he is not an Inquisitor."

Her daughter was defiant. She was scared, bordering on paranoid even. Aria took a deep breath.

"You are right. It is indeed better to be safe than sorry. Even if he is not an Inquisitor, he could still be a danger to us. But if he is, what do we do?"

"We leave."

Melas spoke without a hint of hesitation in her voice.

"We leave the village, mom. Go far away from here. If we do, nobody will bother us for a while."

Aria was shocked. She didn’t expect this kind of determination from her daughter. Even Aria, who only has a working relationship with the villagers would hesitate to just up and leave them. And Melas had… friends? Aria shook her head. No she didn’t, apart from maybe Adrian. And even then, she’s not too close to him.

Melas was a child. Even if she did not have any friends, the village was all she had known. To abandon her entire life up until this point, it should be ridiculous to even suggest. Yet, here she was demanding it. But why? Aria did not know the reason for her daughter’s behavior, and Melas seemed to realize that.

"It’s because I love you, mom. I don’t want anything to happen to you."

Aria was stunned. She was glad— glad that her daughter felt so strongly about her. It made her feel like she finally did something right in her life, in spite of her past sins. But she also felt bad for her daughter, that she had to worry about such things because of her. Before she could voice her thoughts however, her daughter continued.

"Sure, I’ll be sad. Villamcreek is where I grew up, after all. Mr Walden, even though he can be a bit annoying with the way he teaches, is still a good guy. And Adrian and I only just started to become friends. But this place is not my home. My home is with you, mom. So wherever I may go, I’ll be fine as long as I am with you."

Upon hearing that, Aria felt her chest grow warm. Warmer than it ever had been. Maybe only as warm as when she first gave birth to her child after all her struggles. Her eyes welled up, and tears started to streak down her beautiful face. She started crying, because now, her daughter was making her feel this way again.

Aria gathered her emotions, and wiped away her tears. Slowly, she looked her daughter in the eyes, and saw her resolve. With that, Aria made her decision too.

"Fine," said Aria, smiling, "we will leave."

Hearing that, Melas smiled too.

They were going to leave, but not right now. They still needed to gather their things tomorrow, and resupply in the village. Maybe even say goodbye to several of the villagers. Then, they would be gone.

And as the mother and daughter made their decision to leave, both felt only one thing. The same feeling which they had always felt for each other.

Love.

Chapter 5: Monster Attack

The next morning, I woke up much earlier than usual.

Usually, I would wake up when the sun was a quarter of the way up the sky. I’m not sure what time that was, since we did not own a clock; I assumed that that was around maybe eight or nine in the morning. Today however, I’d say I was up closer to six or seven.

And that was because today, my mom and I would be leaving Villamcreek.

My mom was a magic-wielder. A spellcaster. Or a so-called ‘Dark Acolyte’. But most importantly, she was a heretic. She supposedly used to be quite a prominent figure as well, being a Human from the Holy Xan Empire who joined the Forces of Darkness. She was one of the only Humans who was a part of the Shadow’s Evangelium when they were still around over a decade ago, before they were finally crushed by the Holy Xan Empire. As such, my mom was wanted by the Church, the Mercenaries Guild, and numerous other countries or organizations that my mom made enemies out of.

We talked about it last night, and decided that we should leave as soon as possible. Sure, we could delay it a couple of days, and try to leave at a more appropriate time, but that would definitely lead to the Inquisitors showing up just as we are about to leave. That’s how it usually goes, wasn’t it? That’s a flag, right?

I was not an idiot! I was not going to procrastinate and wait for a more appropriate time— something which would surely never come. That was why we had to do this, and do this now.

Slowly, I peeled my blanket off of myself, and pushed myself out of my bed. I groggily walked out of my room to get ready, washing myself and wiping myself down with a piece of cloth. Then I got dressed for the day, wearing my one-piece smock that went down to my knees, held together by a girdle around my waist. With that, I was ready to go.

As usual, mom was already gone by the time I was awake, so I had to pack my things on my own. We decided against telling anyone of our plans, since it would surely lead us to getting caught down the line; so we were just going to disappear tonight. And to do that, we had to pack light.

I grabbed a bag of coins, and headed to Villamcreek.

Villamcreek was a small and obscure village on the outskirts of the Rem Republic, with only forest surrounding us for miles on end. The Incen Mountain Range formed a natural barrier to most of the neighboring countries, barring the Free Lands, which was accessible through a pass in the northeast. But our country did not have the greatest relationship with them, which made travelers or merchants coming to and from them even more sparse.

Farmers labored to provide the majority of food for the village, while others— like Adrian’s father— went hunting for animals to bring back meat to sell here, while skinning them for other parts to sell in the neighboring towns. There were also some craftsmen and even basic tinkerers who sold basic products here, hoping to maybe one day get enough money to move to a city. This all meant that there was not a lack of shops in the village— there were just very little of them, and they tended to be pricey.

I arrived at the village after a short walk, heading straight to one of the few said shops. There, I bought things I felt necessary for travelling that we did not already have; all in all, it cost about 47 bronze, which was about 2 and a half silver.

Currency in this world was almost completely ubiquitous: the smallest denomination of money was bronze, followed by silver, then gold, and finally platinum. 20 bronze equaled to 1 silver, 12 silver equaled to 1 gold, and 100 gold equaled to 1 platinum, though platinum was supposedly quite rare. Bronze coins typically got you your everyday items such as food and drinks, whilst gold was what you use for larger transactions like buying a house.

Although the Rem Republic was considered to be one of the richer countries in this world, living in a small village like Villamcreek meant 2 and a half silver was worth quite a lot. Most people here would barely make 2 gold a year! What I had spent, was pretty much a quarter of my mom’s savings, and was sure to arouse some suspicion, but it didn’t matter; by the time anyone caught on to what we were doing, we would have been gone.

It didn’t take long before I was back home and was packing; I didn’t have much I needed to bring, just a few clothes, some books, and other basic necessities. I did not really have any items with sentimental value in this world, which somehow turned out to be a good thing.

By the time I was finished, it was not even noon. With nothing much else to do, I decided to practice my control over mana crystals. I went to the kitchen, picked up the lighter, and activated it just enough that a spark would come out. I did that a few more times, before making an actual fire; I made small flames and big flames, made it continuous and instantaneous, and I repeated it all several times.

I was still in the middle of practicing when I heard a knock coming from the front. Quickly pocketing the lighter, I went to the door and opened it. Adrian was nervously standing there in his leather tunic, with his dad’s pistol on his side.

"Hey Melas."

"Hey," I greeted him curtly.

"Uh, what are you doing?"

He managed to make eye contact with me as we spoke, but quickly broke it off once again, after he got the question out. Speaking of which, what kind of a question is that?!

You did not just go up to someone’s house and knock on their door to ask them about what they were doing. Obviously I’m talking to you!

I liked Adrian, I really did. He was the only person in Villamcreek that I would consider my friend, but his crush on me made it difficult to talk to him sometimes. I mean, I know that I am difficult to talk to for most, but at least I’m not awkward about it!

My unintentional silence from thinking too much seemed to key Adrian in, and he quickly followed up.

"You usually come to the village to pick me up before you go gathering— I just thought that I’d save you the trouble and wait here instead, but uh, I forgot that you don’t go gathering every day. So, I was wondering if you’d be going today?"

Ah yes, I completely forgot about that. There was no point in going to the forest today, but I did want to give him some sort of subtle goodbye and get some form of closure from this part of my life. So I shook my head.

"No."

"When are you—" Adrian cut himself off, only now realizing what I said, "Oh."

"But, let’s hang out anyways," I said, stopping him before he could excuse himself.

He visibly brightened upon hearing that, to which I smiled at.

"Oh um, sure! Uh, what were you thinking of doing?"

I stepped outside of the door, and closed it behind me.

"I’m not sure."

"You’re not sure?"

Adrian seemed perplexed by that. I didn’t blame him, we had never done an impromptu hangout session before. It was usually him accompanying me while I did something.

"Let’s just go to the village. We can find something to do there."

"Oh um, sure!" Adrian said, parroting his earlier statement.

We left my house and started walking back to Villamcreek. It was a nice day to be out and about; the sun was not too glaring, being blotted out by a small gathering of clouds in the sky. The air was calm, the wind gently rustling the leaves on the trees. And in addition to that, the birds were singing, completing this scene and giving off a serene ambience in our little walk. T was the perfect weather for me— not too hot, and not too cold. I spoke casually to the boy.

"You know, I’ve been learning how to use mana crystals."

"You have?" Adrian stopped walking, and turned to face me with a look of disbelief.

"Yeah,"— I walked a few more steps before stopping as well to turn and face him— "took me a bit but my mom taught me how."

I took out the lighter from my pocket, and let out a quick flame.

"See." I pointed at the flame.

"That’s... amazing!" Adrian was genuinely awed by that. He leaned over, staring at the fire burn gently an inch off the mana tool. "How did you learn it so fast? I thought you couldn’t do that just a few months ago."

"Practice," I said simply, not cluing him to the fact that I learnt it in less than an hour.

The boy seemed almost enchanted by the flame, so I decided to extinguish it and pocket the lighter before he somehow burned himself. Neither of us said anything for a few seconds after that, and we awkwardly stood facing each other in silence. Realizing that he would not speak first, I decided to bring up the only thing I could say at the moment.

"You’re pretty amazing yourself, Adrian. When I found out that you could use a gun’s mana crystal, I begged my mom to teach me how to use one. So it’s thanks to you I can even do this."

"Oh," Adrian said, blushing, "thank you."

…

Is that all you’re going to say?

I knew that he had a crush on me and all, but please throw me a bone here! I was not used to to speaking with people, and I needed someone else to carry the conversation for me. Ugh, this situation is so awkward, even the birds stopped chirping. It was almost unbearable, and the rustling of bushes didn't even help.

Wait— rustling bushes? But the wind stopped blowing…

I slowly turned my head to face the source of the noise, only to meet a pair of glowing red eyes peering at me from inside the bush to my right. Immediately without thinking, I jumped and tackled Adrian to the ground several feet from where we stood.

My eye contact with the Monster must have triggered something in it to attack us. It leapt out of the bush it was hiding in. My quick reaction seemed to have saved our lives. The Monster was already standing at the spot we were in, as we hit the ground.

It stood there on four clawed legs, a solid five feet tall and nearly ten feet wide. Its body was coated with yellow fur, that turned into a golden mane at its neck; it had the face of a goat, with two horns protruding from the top of its head, and a small golden beard at the tip of its chin. Its tail— which extended beyond the length of its body— was brown in color and patterned with blotches of yellow throughout, complete with the mouth of a snake at its very end.

It was a Chimera.

Adrian saw this too, and immediately unholstered his pistol as he got up. Aiming at it with both hands, he shot the monster in the face.

A bullet made of pure blue energy shot out of the pistol, flying straight at the Chimera. It knocked the Monster’s head back slightly, leaving a small scratch where it struck. The Chimera opened its mouth and let out a ferocious roar, before it was hit by another two bullets close to where the first landed, drawing some blood.

A fourth and fifth bullet shot by Adrian only hit the air, as the Chimera leapt to the side to dodge. Although there was a short interval between each shot, Adrian did not have to reload since the pistol was fueled by the mana crystal.

The Chimera circled around us in the span of five seconds, before lashing its snake tail out at Adrian. He managed to narrowly avoid the strike by stepping back and jumping to the left, while the attack missed me entirely as I was still prone on the ground.

Adrian was barely grounded when he brought his gun back up. The Chimera however, was faster and leapt forwards at him, taking a final shot to the face, before it knocked the gun away with a claw. With another swing, the Monster struck Adrian across the chest and onto a tree nearly ten feet away. But it didn’t let up.

The Chimera was immediately on the boy again. It pressed him up against the tree with its tail. It opened its mouth to reveal hundreds of sharp carnivorous teeth, baring it in a sadistic grin to my bleeding friend.

At this point, I got up and ran. Not towards the village, of course; I was not a coward. Instead, I ran towards the fallen gun which was laying on the ground around five feet in front of me. I was not even sure if I could use it, but I had to try something.

The moment I got up however, the Chimera snapped its head towards me. A small ball of fire flew out of its open mouth and straight towards me. I immediately dove for the gun, barely grabbing it as the fireball exploded a foot behind me, knocking me forwards several feet.

My legs were covered in severe burns up till my knees, where the burn marks were significantly less pronounced. It still hurts a lot!

I pointed the gun at the Chimera, and channeled the mana through the crystal, firing a bullet straight at the beast. Oh my God, it actually worked!

The bullet struck the Chimera on the chest, and hardly seemed to faze it. A second struck it in the face where Adrian hit it before, drawing more blood, and a third went over its head. Oh yeah, recoil.

I immediately adjusted my aim, and shot a bullet at the Chimera’s face. As I did that, the Chimera opened its mouth wide and fire began building up on its gaping maw. Luckily for me, the bullet went into its open mouth, and struck the fireball before it shot out, causing it to explode on the Chimera’s face.

Unlike the mana bullets, where each seemed to do as much damage as a paper cut, the explosion of its own fireball seemed to actually hurt the Chimera. It reeled back in pain from the explosion and dropped Adrian from its tail. I pelted it with more shots as this happened.

With its now free tail, the Chimera lashed out at where I was laying. It tried to pull me towards it. But I rolled out of the way of the tail, and prepared for the follow up strike by pushing myself to the side. This saved me from being hit by the leaping claw attack which immobilized Adrian.

The Chimera then pulled back its other claw, loading it for an uppercut-like swing to my still downed body. I propelled myself off the ground with both hands, took a step back as I leaned out of the strike, just dodging it. Unfortunately however, I completely forgot that my legs were badly burnt.

The excruciating pain from standing up was numbed by the adrenaline, but it did not fix my wounds. So as I tried to dodge the Chimera’s next swing, all I did was stagger on the spot.

The Monster’s claw connected straight to my chest, drawing lots of blood, and was immediately followed up by another strike that knocked me prone on the ground. It pinned me on the floor with its claws, digging even deeper into my flesh.

I screamed as the Chimera snarled at me, digging further into my skin as it pressed me on the ground. Huh, didn’t know Humans could bleed that much, the casual thought crossed my mind.

To be honest, I did not really care if I died. I’ve already died once to some stupid jerk fake god for some stupid jerk fake reason, so dying to some monster wouldn’t make much of a difference to me. My life in this world never once mattered to me.

And yet, if I did die, I knew that my mom would get really sad, and I didn't want that; I didn't want my mom to blame herself for my death, thinking that I could have survived if she didn't refuse to teach me magic a couple months ago. So, gathering all my strength, I attempted to lift my right arm up.

I may not have learned magic, but I did learn how to use mana tools, and I was going to put everything I learned to survive. The Chimera saw me move my arm, saw how I was struggling to even lift my hand, let alone the gun held in it. It was quite clearly intelligent, since it quite clearly taunted Adrian earlier, and was doing the same thing now to me with what appeared to be a smile— a terrifying and toothy smile— as it seemingly took pleasure in his suffering.

Smarter than I thought.

Slowly, I began to grab the mana inside the gun as I lifted it up. The Chimera already knew that mana bullets wouldn’t be able to kill it, so it simply just pressed harder into my chest to inflict more pain. The pain seemed to give me the necessary push to jerk my arm up and towards the Chimera.

But…

Thinking that I was going to shoot it again, it decided that it had enough fun hurting me, and moved its maw forward towards my head to finish me off. At the same time, powered only by adrenaline, I moved the pistol towards the Chimera’s open mouth.

With all of my remaining strength, I shoved the gun straight inside of it, while I simultaneously felt myself shoving all of the mana inside the gun’s mana crystal at once. The Chimera immediately jerked back and closed its mouth, but it was already too late.

The gun was inside the Monster, and its mana crystal was overloaded. Less than a split second after I let go of the weapon, an explosion blew me 20 feet away from where I was lying.

I saw my right arm flying far past me as my limp body slid to a stop on the hard dirt. The rest of me managed to remain intact, only because the Chimera’s massive claws that pinned me down ended up protecting me from the explosion.

The Chimera however, wasn’t so lucky. Its head exploded into a thousand pieces, and its two front legs were blown off its body. It was, for all intents and purposes, dead.

I stared at the dead Chimera, and managed to curl my lips up into what I hoped was a smirk. Darkness began to fill my vision, and I barely managed to get out a final thought.

Still a stupid dumb idiot.

Chapter 6: Leaving

Aria was not the type of woman to be nervous around men.

As much as she looked like one, she was not a damsel who had had no experience with love. On the contrary, Aria has had multiple romantic experiences throughout her life— experiences that were not limited to Human men. And yet, in front of Walden, Aria could feel her heart pounding hard in her chest.

She was not attracted to the middle aged man in any way. In fact, it was quite the opposite— she was afraid of him. He seemed docile and harmless, which was generally true if you only took into account his physical capabilities. He was even shorter than Aria, which made him a lot less intimidating considering she was close to the average height for most young women.

And even if Walden stood tall, with an imposing, broad shouldered figure and tree trunk sized arms, Aria would not have been afraid of him any more than she currently was. Because what she feared was not the man himself, rather it was the knowledge that he held.

Walden was the only person in Villamcreek to have traveled far outside the village, even studying in Rem’s Capital City of Remheart. The man only returned to Villamcreek a few years before Aria settled down in the village, and would have heard of Aria’s real identity in his time in the outside world.

Aria had a unique appearance which most Humans did not have. She had black hair and silver eyes— both of which were rare traits among Humans— who tended to have colorful hair and eyes. Coupled with the fact that she had not aged a single year in the last decade, it would not take a genius to realize her true identity if they knew of it.

Fortunately for her, most of the villagers were barely literate, and had little experience with modern technology that could have informed them of her true identity, or allowed them to inform the Church of her presence in Villamcreek. As such, she never bothered to disguise herself with magic— considering it would have taken a large ritual to even subtly alter one’s face.

Furthermore, the only man who could know who she was has never questioned her. So why should she have mastered magic she was not sure even existed, considering her identity was safe. That was what she thought until the night before.

Now, Aria was afraid. She feared that Walden figured her out, and used a message tool to contact either the Mercenaries guild or even the Holy Xan Empire. If he did that, it won’t be long before Inquisitors came for life, and Aria knew that if that happened, she could not protect her Melas forever. With that in mind, the mother and daughter decided together to leave Villamcreek for good.

They wanted to make a quiet getaway at night, whilst keeping up the illusion of normalcy during the day. But suddenly, Walden stopped her when she was in the village, and asked to speak with her in private. Did he figure out their plan to leave?

If he did, he would likely try to make some excuse to keep them here for as long as possible. Whatever it was, Aria knew she needed to respond delicately to ensure she did not get caught in a trap.

The two of them finally arrived at Walden’s house, and entered through the front door. They sat across from each other, at a small round table in the center of the room.

"Sorry for troubling you, Aria. I know you’re very busy, but I just needed to speak with you in private," said Walden, as he picked up a pot and poured himself a drink. "Would you like some tea?"

"I am fine, Walden. And no, it is no trouble at all. What would you like to speak about?" Aria inquired politely, gently refusing his offer out of fear of poison or any other concoctions he could have put in it. The young woman was certain regular poison would not have worked on her, but she just had to err on the side of caution.

"Very well, then." Walden took a sip from the cup for a moment, before continuing. "I was hoping to speak with you about your daughter."

"My daughter? Did something happen to Melas?" asked Aria, worry filling her voice.

"No, no. It is quite the opposite actually."

"The opposite?" Aria raised an eyebrow in response to his ambiguity. "Could you elaborate, please?"

"Yes. You see, Melas has shown herself to be an incredibly bright and diligent girl during my lessons. She learns quickly, and she always asks questions if she’s unsure of anything."

Walden paused for a moment to take a sip from the tea, before continuing.

"I have not seen a child as gifted as her in all my life. Not me when I was her age, and not Adrian, who’s shown to be quite intelligent as well. Even during my time in Remheart, I have never met a child like her. She is special."

Aria felt herself smiling upon hearing that. She knew that Melas was special. Of course, every mother believed that her child was special. But Melas was truly unique. There was no arguing against it.

It only took Melas an hour to learn how to use a mana crystal, an endeavor which would take most teenagers and young adults weeks or even months to do. Even Aria, who already knew how to manipulate mana from her magic, took a full day to understand how mana tools differed from spellcasting, before using one for the first time. So hearing someone else acknowledge that fact filled the mother with pride. Her good mood however, was cut short by what Walden had to say next.

"I have spoken with the others, and they agreed with me. That is why we have pooled together our money, and would like to offer you a chance to send your daughter to reach her full potential, like the village did for me. We would like to send her to Remheart."

Aria’s didn’t blink. She didn’t visibly react. But she felt her heart stop for what felt like a full minute. The Capital? If someone found out that Melas was her daughter, she would surely be killed!

The Rem Republic tried to stay neutral as a country that mostly dealt in trade. Yet, they still had their obligations to one of their biggest trading partners— the Holy Xan Empire. Perhaps Rem itself would only throw Melas into a prison cell for her relation to Aria. But the Church would surely demand to take her, and Rem would not face any consequences if they obeyed.

And if they took Melas to Soli… Aria felt her lips quiver as the scenarios played out in her head. They would crucify her, hang her, then burn her at the stake.

And yet, Walden was right. Melas was gifted, talented, and full of potential. She deserved the opportunity to fully realize that. But Aria knew that her daughter would not want to do that if it meant separating from her. That left Aria between a rock and a hard place, and Walden seemed to notice.

"Don’t worry, Aria. I know you’re worried about the idea of your daughter living alone, but I wouldn’t have brought it up if I didn’t genuinely believe that Melas could handle herself. I also have friends there who could help her. However, the decision comes down to what you and Melas think. Discuss it with her and consider it. Take a few days if you must."

Walden gave Aria a sincere, reassuring smile that extended to the crows feet by his eyes. Aria was about to respond in kind, before she was interrupted by a young boy who burst in through the door.

"Is something the matter?"

"What’s wrong?"

"Ms Aria! Melas and Adrian were attacked!"

Aria’s eyes widened upon hearing that. She did not wait for the boy to explain what happened, instead making him lead them to her daughter.

It was a quick run. It took no more than ten minutes before they arrived at the scene, but there was already a crowd gathered.

Aria and Walden pushed their way through the crowd to see what happened, and what they saw was horrible.

To Aria’s left, laid Adrian who was bleeding from a deep gash on his chest. He was barely conscious, listening to his parents who were holding him and trying to keep him awake.

To her right, laid the bloodied and mangled body of what looked to be a large lion. It was missing its head and mane, which seemed to have exploded, and it’s two front legs were lying a few feet beyond the rest of its body.

And finally, to Aria’s front, was the body of a girl. Her face was heavily disfigured from a mana explosion, and she was losing a lot of blood from a large wound buried on her chest. Her legs were covered in severe burns that went up to her inner thighs, and her right arm laid detached from the rest of her body a dozen feet behind her.

As Aria took in this image, she let out only one shaky word.

"Melas..."

***

I’m alive.

I tried opening one eye, only for it to promptly clamp shut due to the sudden influx of light.

How the heck am I alive?!

I was pretty sure I died. Everything went dark, and I was bleeding from literally everywhere. I mean, I was missing my right arm for God’s sake!

I felt my right arm twitch as I had that thought. Um, what? Slowly, I tried to clench my right hand. It still felt very numb, but it did clench, though just barely. Definitely there. But how?

Whatever happened to me had to be nothing short of a miracle; my entire body was numb, but it was all still in one piece, which made the numbness feel like nothing in comparison. Carefully this time, I tried to open my eyes once again.

It took me a moment to adjust to being able to see once again. But eventually I managed to find my bearings, and was met with the familiar view of my bedroom when I looked around. Was what happened a dream? Did I imagine everything that happened? It looks only to be around noon, so maybe?

I tried to sit up, and felt a sharp pain coming from my ribs. I made a soft whimpering sound at that, immediately laying back down; the noise seemed to have attracted my mom’s attention, as she came rushing in with a worried look on her face.

"M-mommy?" I asked, still slightly bewildered.

"Melas, you’re awake. How are you feeling, my dear?" my mom cooed in such a gentle voice, the numbing sensation all over my body was immediately soothed over.

"I’m… alive?"

I was not even sure if that was meant to be a question or statement, because I was both glad for, and confused about, the fact that I was still alive. My mom let out a breath I didn’t even know she was holding, walked over to me, and kneeled by my bed.

"Yes, dear. Yes you are." She said, delicately stroking my hair.

It felt so good to be pampered like this, especially after what happened. I let it happen for the next ten minutes, savoring every single second of it, before I decided to finally break the silence.

"What happened, mom?"

My mom continued caressing me for a few more moments. Staring at me intently, and with a relieved heart. Before she finally responded.

"You were dying. You lost so much blood, and you were barely breathing when I got to you. I had to use magic to keep you alive" Aria said, bringing her hands down from my head to my hand. Gripping it gently, she continued.

"I needed to keep you alive long enough to get you my healing potions. I used one to reattach your arm and heal your face, and the other to close up your chest. There wasn’t enough for your legs, so you won’t be able to walk for a while. The healing paste will take a bit to heal burns that severe, but it will heal the rest of your wounds by tonight. Your healed skin will be sensitive for a while too, so just rest now."

"H-healing potions? Wh— huh?!"

Healing potions were expensive. The cheapest ones must cost at least five gold coins, and the better ones were probably more than ten times that; I knew that my mom could make healing potions, but to have two on hand?

I immediately felt guilty for my reckless abandon. I should’ve run away, got help from the village, instead of trying to save Adrian by myself. But instead, I nearly got myself killed, and wasted two whole healing potions. My mom however, did not share my concern, and began reassuring me instead.

"Do not worry, my dear. You are alive, and that is all that matters. Items like healing potions are meant to be used, that is where their value comes from. They would have no worth if they are simply kept and stored. And even if they did, they mean nothing to me compared to your safety and happiness."

Parting my bangs with one hand, she stood up and leaned over to my face. My mom lightly pressed her lips on my forehead for a kiss, gently holding it there for a moment. Then she slowly pulled back, and meeting my eyes, she smiled.

"I am so glad. I was so worried."

It was a simple statement; words that meant one thing and only thing only. And yet, when I heard that, I felt my chest grow warm. My lips naturally curled into a smile, and I simply stared back at her.

"How long have I been asleep?" I asked, not looking away from my mother.

"A day," she replied.

"I see. And Adrian?"

"He is fine. His injuries are much less severe than yours. It would not have been fatal as long as we covered the wound. And with the healing paste, he should recover in a few days. But I did promise his parents that I would check up on him after you woke up."

"And you’re not in trouble, right?"

"In trouble?"

"For using magic."

"Ah,"— Aria slowly lowered herself to sit back down— "no, I am not."

I attempted to tilt my head questioningly, though with how stiff and numb my entire body was, I was not sure if my message was even conveyed. In the end, I went with the tried and true method of— wait for it— speaking. And somehow, this mysterious technique of verbal communication somehow worked!

"Why not?"

"Because no one saw me. I sent everyone away once I reached you, and carried you back by myself. It is fine, Melas. We are safe."

"But what about—"

My mom must have guessed what I was going to ask, as she quickly interrupted me. "We can wait a few days, dear. You are in no condition to be traveling, and I have something I need to discuss with you."

"Something to discuss with me? Is it that important?"

"Yes. But we will talk about it once you recover. For now, just rest ok?"

Something important to talk to me about? I did not know what could be important enough to be an issue with leaving the village. But my mom must have been tired from worrying about me since yesterday, so I chose not to pursue the matter.

"Ok," I said, acquiescing.

"Thank you," said my mom.

She seemed pleased to hear me relent; she quickly looked over her shoulder out the window, before turning back to me. She hesitated for a second before opening her mouth to speak.

"Melas, dear. Would you be fine if I left you alone for a bit? Just to check on Adrian. I promise that no matter what happens, I will be back before you know it."

"Of course," I answered cheerfully, trying not to be a bother to her.

"You sure?" asked my mom, with a look of genuine worry written on her face. "If you feel scared or lonely, just let me know. I know you used to get nightmares—"

"I’m sure, mom. It’s no problem at all." I said, trying to smile as wide as I could to reassure her. "And that was when I was still little, I’m grown up now."

I puffed my cheeks up and lifted my head, feigning a pout. As I had hoped, that seemed to have put my mom at ease, causing her to visibly relax. She started heading out of my room, only stopping at the doorway to give me one last goodbye.

"I love you, Melas."

"I love you too mommy."

And then I only watched my mom’s back as she left me.

***

Aria did not want to leave her daughter alone. After what happened, Aria wanted to stay by her daughter’s side, hug her tightly, and never let her go. But Aria knew that one day, she would have to let go of her daughter.

She always knew that her daughter would eventually grow up, find a man that she loved, and move away. Intuitively, every mother knew that. And yet, now, Aria is starting to think that that day might come sooner rather than later.

It was Walden who made her realize that her daughter was much more mature than most. After a near death experience, most children would cry and demand attention from their parents. However, Melas did not do this— she showed no hesitation in being left alone, and was considerate enough to try and cheer Aria up, when Aria was the mother in the relationship. Melas was attacked by a Chimera— a monster that could have killed dozens of people in Villamcreek before being put down— and killed it by herself.

These were not things that normal children did, and Aria knew it. She had to sit her daughter down, and get her daughter to listen to Walden’s offer with an open mind. Aria let out a small sigh to herself, as she entered Villamcreek.

She knew how stubborn her daughter could be, and she knew how much her daughter loved her. Trying to get her to not only change her mind, but also separate from Aria, would not be easy. But easy was not what Aria signed up for when she found out she had become a mother. Easy was not something that came with pure, unconditional love.

Love was difficult. And because Aria loved her daughter, Aria would speak to her, convince her, and part with her. Because I love you, Melas, I will protect you, thought Aria.

Aria’s mind was made up. She knew what had to be done. She was focused, determined, and ready. Perhaps it was because of that, that she did not notice them until they saw her. And by the time she realized they were there, it was already too late.

In front of Aria, seven individuals stood. She had never met them, and neither have they, her. But that did not stop them from recognizing her, and she, them. They knew who she was because they had seen her pictures before, while she knew who they were because of the pictures they bore.

Seven individuals, each donning a crest known throughout the world. The symbol of hope, the mark of greatness, the flag of the Holy Xan Empire.

Inquisitors.

Chapter 7: Standing Prayer

Seven individuals stood in front of Aria, a look of recognition filled the eyes of every single one of them.

A man with golden blonde hair, neatly trimmed to an amicable length, stood at the head of the group. He was dressed in an elegant golden doublet, emblazoned with the sigil of the Xan Empire at its center. The signature red sword— pointed downwards— surrounded by streaks of holy rays, was embroidered just under the collar. A large glowing mana crystal, about the size of his palm, rested at the very top of the symbol, where the hilt of the depicted sword should be. The man rested his pale gloved hand on a silver and gold saber, sheathed on the side of his black trousers. The casual way he approached her, and the fact that he was the only one without any armor, immediately set off alarm bells in Aria’s head.

"Valeria Aimy Corinna," said the man, almost as if declaring it. "It is truly a fortune bestowed upon us by the Goddess that we run into you here."

Aria reacted immediately. She covered her face as much as possible, turning to the side, and lowering the brim of her purple pointed hat downwards. Carefully pitching her voice to sound as young as possible, she spoke.

"G-greetings travellers! Are you looking for someone?"

Each word she spoke was full of purpose. Aria needed to sound like a scared young maiden, who was interacting with outsiders for the first time. It did help that she was actually afraid, though what she feared was not that they were strangers, but of what they would do. The chances of actually fooling them were slim at best, but this was the only way she could resolve the situation without actually fighting them. The man however, was less than amused.

"Do not think you can fool us. We know who you are, Fiend."

"F-f-fiend?! I’m sorry sir if I have offended you. I was just heading to—"

Before Aria could finish her sentence, she was interrupted by the red haired woman standing to the man’s left.

"Be silent, heretic! Saint Theron is not an idiot, and neither are we. Turn yourself over and accept your divine retribution, or we will make you."

The woman drew her great sword as she spoke. Unlike the man— Saint Theron— the symbol of the Xan empire was plastered on the shoulderpads of her plate armor. Both her sword and armor were embedded with a dozen mana crystals of varying colors, though none of them were as large or bright as Theron’s.

Aria was now getting more and more wary of the group. What is a Saint doing with Inquisitors?

Saints were supposed to be incredibly rare and powerful, shedding their life to perform miracles that rival even the most powerful of magic-users. As such, they were only deployed to deal with crises, and would not be grouped together with Inquisitors which functioned more like an elite strike force.

The tense scene, paired with the woman’s previous outburst, seemed to have attracted the attention of some villagers, and among them was a familiar middle aged man. Walden stepped out from the crowd of passersby, and approached the group of Inquisitors and the Saint.

"Greetings Sir Saint. What seems to be the problem?"

Theron broke off from glaring at Aria, and glanced around quickly. He seemed to have only just noticed the gathered crowd, before he turned to face Walden.

"Mr Walden, I apologize for the commotion. We were just apprehending a known heretic, so if you may please assist us in dispersing the crowd, we would be very grateful."

Murmurs immediately spread throughout the crowd upon the mention of a heretic, and Aria tensed up. She was expecting Walden to turn to her, and suddenly connect the dots, but he continued speaking with the group.

"A known heretic? I’m sorry Sir Saint, but I do not believe that any of our villagers have committed such heinous acts, especially not Ms Aria here. She is an upstanding member of our community, a fair young lady who has made immense contributions to the village despite her age. If I knew that you would have made such false accusations against one of our own, I am sure none of us here would have agreed to accommodate your group on your mission."

Several of the villagers seemed to agree with Walden’s statement, nodding along to what he said. The Inquisitors, particularly the red haired woman, seemed taken aback at that, and their hostility slowly shifted to uncertainty.

He knew. Aria finally broke out of her momentary stupor, realizing that Walden was trying to help her talk her way out of this. He knew all along, and now he’s helping me.

Aria was both confused and ashamed. She was confused as to why Walden would help her if he knew, and ashamed for being suspicious of him just the day before. But Aria knew that she had to take this opportunity, and slowly she took a step back, towards the group of passersby.

Unlike the Inquisitors however, Theron was unaffected by Walden’s small speech. He took a step forward when Aria stepped back, and as if his words were justice itself, spoke into the crowd.

"Mr Walden, we are grateful that you have provided us lodging to aid us in tracking down… a group of evildoers," said the Saint, nodding. "However, the lady you are defending matches the description of an even more dangerous person, wanted all across both continents known as the Fiend. She is a known practitioner of black magic, fornicates with Demons, and was part of a conspiracy to assassinate Emperor Xavier. Her name was Valeria Aimy Corinna, formerly of house Corinna, and was one of the leaders of the Shadow’s Evangelium before the organization’s destruction. I request that you please hand her over to us."

There were gasps all around. People who Aria worked with for years, and people who she barely even knew eyed her with suspicion. She knew that if she said anything, it would just antagonize the man more, so she placed all her hopes on Walden, while slowly edging further away from the Saint.

"If she is who you say she is, I believe it is only right that you provide some proof of your claims, don’t you agree?"

"Theron’s not lying!" the red haired Inquisitor growled. Suddenly embarrassed, she quickly followed up in a more subdued, but still aggressive, tone, "He’s a Saint. He literally can’t lie!"

Both Theron and Walden seemed to raise an eye at her shift in tone, but neither commented on it. Walden instead elected to respond to her statement.

"I do not doubt the Saint’s word, Madam Inquisitor, but can he be sure Aria is who he says she is? You claim that she matches the description of a wanted criminal from some heretic group over a decade ago. If that were truly the case, wouldn’t the Fiend be much older now? Surely this is simply a case of mistaken identity?"

This time, Walden’s argument left not only the Saint unconvinced, but also the Inquisitors and the crowd. Magic could very easily solve the problem posed by Walden, and a man Aria recognized as Adrian’s father seemed to realize that. All heads turned to him as he spoke.

"Walden, I get what you’re saying, I really do. But me and the missus have talked about it before, and we are not the only ones who have been creeped by Aria’s youth. She—"

Aria did not let the man finish. She would have been upset by the fact that he was so ready to betray her despite their children’s friendship, but she was grateful to him at the moment. For the moment. Everyone, including the Saint and the Inquisitors, were distracted by the man's little speech, giving the young woman the distraction she needed to run.

She spun on her heels and immediately took off, sprinting away from the crowd. She could not risk getting stopped by someone who decided to help the Inquisitors, like Adrian’s father did. This situation would never favor her, thus she needed to get out of there.

An Inquisitor was the first one to notice. Just like the rest of them, he was covered from head to toe in armor adorned with mana crystals, though he seemed to be more lightly dressed than the rest. He drew two daggers, one obsidian black and the other jade green, as he gave chase. The moment he did, the mana crystals on his legs glowed, and he was off sprinting faster than humanly possible after Aria.

The rest of them were right behind him, with the unarmored Saint in second place. Surprisingly enough, the red haired woman was not taking up the rear, but was slightly faster than a blonde woman. The blonde woman ran as she slowly withdrew her bow and arrows, aiming right at Aria.

At the same time, the rogue started to close in on Aria, throwing a dagger at her. She leaned out of the way of the first one, and as the rogue threw the second, the archer loosed multiple consecutive arrows as well.

Aria stopped, grabbing the green dagger out of the air, and using it, she deftly deflected all the enchanted arrows coming at her. The rogue rushed up at her, black dagger flickering into existence back in his hand, and slashed for her throat. She easily parried the swing, countering with sweep to his legs. The rogue barely jumped over it, but was still midair when a followup kick struck him right in his chest, sending him flying back towards the Saint.

Dodging another arrow, Aria threw the green dagger towards the archer, garnering a momentary reprieve. She turned away from the oncoming Inquisitors, and took a step forward before the ground beneath her feet started to glow. A deep violet circle shone at her feet, its diameter wide enough for her to spread her arms and still have space to move around in it. Intricate lines and symbols were magically drawn on the insides of the circle as the intensity of its light increased. Finally, the magic circle was completed as the shining reached its peak, before it flashd.

Aria felt the world around her move. She did not move her legs, nor did she propel her body forward. Everything simply shifted while she stayed in the same spot. In less than a second, Aria found herself hundreds of feet ahead from where she once was.

As if it were a signal to take off running, the dagger Aria threw landed at the feet of the archer, as the young woman resumed her sprint. Aria saw the weapon reappear on the rogue’s hand while the Saint helped him steady himself after being kicked.

It seemed like the rogue was about to give chase, but a quick command from the Saint stopped him. Aria did not see this, but she could tell they were setting things into motion.

The Saint drew his saber, raising it high towards her. Glowing yellow lines started to spread across his arms, forming a pattern throughout his body. The light attracted Aria’s attention, and she knew what was about to happen. She readied another spell, about to teleport hundreds of feet—

And an arrow came crashing down at her. It exploded where Aria once stood. She sidestepped more arrows as the archer rained it down at her. She tried to teleport away, but she could not find the reprieve needed to complete the spell circle.

The blasts from the enchanted arrows, tinkered with powerful mana crystals, shook all of Villamcreek. Aria stared in shock as she watched an entire section of the village get torn apart. This level of destruction— did the Inquisitors not consider the livelihoods of the villagers? Do they not care?

And yet, a few small explosions should have been the least of her worries. Aria saw a flash— she turned around and saw a yellow aura emanating around the Saint. Without even thinking, Aria felt herself pulling the mana in the air into a spell.

It was instinct that saved her. Her natural reaction to danger which she developed from years of being hunted down, that made her cast the barrier.

A magic circle that took the shape of a half sphere surrounded Aria in an instant. It glowed an incandescent white, with lines weaving in and out of it, being replaced by a never ending pattern of space where the designs were complete. Transparent panes of what appeared to be glass slowly covered the barrier, replacing the magic circle, as a golden serpent emerged from the Saint’s saber.

The serpent made of pure golden energy flew straight up, its tail end never leaving the Saint’s weapon. It quickly grew a pair of wings 20 feet wide, with a body 15 feet long. Saint Theron brought his blade down, and the serpent moved. It flew straight at her, bringing utter destruction in its wake.

But the Fractal Barrier was complete. So as the golden serpent enveloped the place where Aria stood, she remained unharmed. And yet, everything it touched— everything the serpent came into contact with— instantly vanished. Vaporized into thin air.

It was contained destruction. Saint Theron, unlike his fellow Inquisitors, had the tact to go out of his way to keep his attacks limited to those that would not level all of Villamcreek. And yet, everything in a twenty foot radius around Aria was still gone. The ground was eaten up, as if it was ground zero of a massive explosion.

After a moment, the light faded. The Saint’s miracle ended, and Aria stood at the center of it all. The ground at her feet remained untouched, and the young woman herself came out unscathed. The magical barrier began to dissipate, the fake glass cracking and breaking down into nothing.

It was a split second. A small window of opportunity to catch Aria off guard. For she was still staring at the desolation— at the sheer damage done to her… home?

The arrow exploded directly beneath her feet, sending her flying to the bottom of the deep crater. Aria felt herself tumbling down to the bottom as her mind spun with it. Her body came to a stop, her gaze swung upwards as she landed on the hard ground.

For a moment, Aria could only look up at the sky, overwhelmed with a sense of guilt. She might not have been close to the villagers. She might have maintained a mere working relationship with them. But this place was still her home. And this would never have happened if she never had come.

Yet, she had to come, did she not? Aria was never given any choice in the matter. She had been—

Aria’s eyes widened as she saw the rogue jump off down the crater at her. He swung his jade dagger. Still-midfall. But the weapon shone. There was a flicker in the air, as if something was cutting through even the wind. Aria went under the attack, as a thin line appeared on the ground beside her.

It was not a projectile like an Air Cutter spell. It was almost as if the dagger itself had grown ten feet in length, but the protrusion remained invisible. Aria sidestepped the onslaught of swings from the rogue, whose attacks were carving up the ground itself.

Aria dodged another swing, and saw the arrow coming at her. She moved her head out of the way just in time, the arrow narrowly missing her by a mere inch. It continued past her head, sending her hair into a mess with its speed, and plunged deep into the ground. The entire arrow sunk into the dirt as if it were like butter. As if there was nothing there.

The young woman continued backing up from the attacks from both the rogue and the archer. She found herself cresting up the crater. Found herself backed up to the wall of a plain wooden house in the village.

The rogue swung at her horizontally, cutting the wall in half and forcing her to duck, before closing the distance and thrusting his obsidian dagger— tip glowing red— at her. She took a big step to the right, causing the rogue to stab the wall instead. The wooden wall immediately started rotting away, starting from the point of contact before spreading out.

Aria was still stepping back when a large maul came swinging at her. She barely managed to put up a quick barrier of air to block the attack, when a lightning arrow, flying parallel to the ground, came straight at her and shattered it. The maul then continued in its downward trajectory and struck Aria across the chest, sending her through the walls of another house.

Aria crashed through multiple walls before finding herself in a bedroom, coughing out blood and lying prone on the side of the broken wall. The Inquisitor with the maul was already walking in after her when she pulled herself off the wall and on the ground. She was still prone when she heard a quiet sniffle to her left.

A little girl was hiding underneath her bed clutching a pillow, and crying. She had short blonde hair and blue eyes, and looked to be around six years old. In short, she was nothing like Aria’s daughter. Yet, when Aria looked at her, she only saw her daughter.

Aria saw a pair of silver eyes staring up at her. Silver eyes that showed no fear of the unknown, but instead curiosity of what could be. Aria saw a little girl filled with an eagerness to learn, and with a determination to love.

But when Aria looked at the ground and saw the blood on the floor, she imagined her daughter, terrified like the little girl hiding underneath her bed. She saw her daughter, crying over her dead body. And when Aria saw that, she remembered why she came here. So Aria stood.

She had no choice. It was a mother’s love that made her go into hiding. It was a mother’s love that made her keep the truth from her daughter. And it was a mother’s love that made her stand.

No matter what happened— even if this were her home— she would fight. She could not run. She tried to run. But it was never an option. She had to fight.

So Aria stood, dodging the maul coming at her. She stepped into the Inquisitor's guard, facing his challenge. And then, she walked over his dead body, towards the rest of the fight.

***

I am dead.

Or at least, I might as well be.

I have died before, but I honestly didn’t remember much about it; I did remember what it was like to get hit by a 25,000 lb truck traveling at over 60 miles per hour, but not the act of being dead itself. That was the only thing I could not remember— everything else, I could never forget. But, if I was pretty sure this was what being dead felt like.

I could not move, I could not speak, and I could not sleep. Well, I actually could do all of those, but moving hurts, I had nobody to speak to, and I was not sleepy. I was so bored, and it had not even been half an hour. I knew I sounded like a kid right now, but that’s because I was a kid!

I could be fussy, grumpy, and jumpy, and I could just blame it on me being a literal 10 year old. But I did not do that. I let my mom go do her job, even though I really wanted her to stay by my side, because I was such a good kid. But being a good kid didn’t mean that I did no’t feel a little bit lonely being by myself, especially after I almost died. Slowly, I sighed.

I really almost died, didn’t I?

I carefully sit myself up on my bed, and look down. The pain is much more bearable now that I spent some time awake getting used to it. Gazing at my half naked body, I assessed the extent of my remaining injuries. My ribs were still bruised and purple, my legs were still wrapped in bandages, and my ruined clothes were still ruined. Healing paste had to be applied every six hours to these injuries, though by the looks of it, I’m sure it was applied quite recently.

At least I’m still alive. I smiled to myself.

As the thought crossed my mind, I heard what sounds like small explosions nearby. To me, it sounded like a muffled version of those small firecrackers, though that did not put me at ease at all. I quickly threw my blanket away, and hopped out of bed.

I groaned as my legs crumpled on the wooden floor, still heavily injured from the burns; I did not spend too long on the ground, as I immediately forced myself up, limping to grab new clothes to wear.

As I was about to get dressed, I heard what sounded like a huge explosion, even from however far away it was. I grabbed a shirt and quickly put it on, since only my upper body was exposed by the Chimera, and immediately ran out of the front door. Whatever those explosions were, I knew it was not a good sign.

I limped my way towards the village, only taking a quick glance at the smoke rising above the treeline. The first thing that came to my mind was Inquisitors. The second, was the man I met in the forest, but I quickly dismissed both thoughts. Whoever it was, I couldn’t let my mom deal with it alone.

I raced towards the village as fast as I could while limping. The entire time I did, I prayed. I didn’t know who I prayed to, but I just prayed. Whether it was the fake god or this world’s Goddess, it did not matter, I prayed to them all. I just hoped that whoever it was, they would answer my prayer.

Please don't let my mom die.

Chapter 8: Fall

Aria felt the mana flowing through her right hand. A violet magic circle, about the size of her open palm started to form over her forearm. Thousands of lines began to weave into an intricate design within the circular shape as she stood up.

The Inquisitor charged at her, raising his maul over his head as it doubled in size. Stepping to the side, Aria dodged the attack as the man swung it down towards her, destroying the wall, and bringing down the roof over their heads.

Aria ignored the whimperings of the girl hiding under the bed, and stepped within arms reach of the Inquisitor. The mystic circle on her arm shifted, it morphed from a two dimensional circle into a three dimensional blur as the lines continued to intersect. The Inquisitor pulled his maul back, trying to catch Aria from behind as he immediately tried to put distance between the two, but it was already too late.

The spell was complete. Aria felt something in her hand. She pulled, and the magic circle vanished. A large scythe, longer than herself, appeared out of thin air. She held it high above her head, the curved edge pointed downwards in a hook, half the length of its body. The head was translucent and glowed pinkish white, completely spectral in its form, while the shaft took the form of a curved charred wooden pole.

Aria swung the ethereal scythe down vertically at the man, slicing him in half and ignoring his armor. The man split into two parts from the head down, but did not separate inside of his untouched suit of armor. It looked like someone took some red paint and drew a line straight down his body. He was dead in an instant.

Aria was about to walk over the body, when she heard a strangled cry from behind her. Finally taking pity on the girl, she grabbed the dead Inquisitor by his plate armor, dragging the corpse behind her as she exited the house. She took a step out of the hole in the wall, and was immediately ambushed by the rogue.

Aria swung up, parrying the rogue’s black dagger with her very own scythe’s darkened shaft. The rogue’s face turned to a grin, fully expecting the woman’s weapon to decompose. But that did not happen. Instead, as soon as his dagger came into contact with the scythe, it burst into flames. He recoiled, dropping his weapon on the ground as it was eaten away by a crimson fire.

The rogue was left unprotected for a moment. Aria saw this, and was about to bring the scythe back down on him, when a greatsword came at her from behind. She barely managed to block the attack with the dead Inquisitor's body, as the sword sheared straight through the corpse’s armor. The red haired Inquisitor immediately followed up with another swing as she allowed the rogue to quickly retreat. Aria grinned, as the Inquisitor got caught in her trap.

Aria let go of the body. It gave her back the freedom of movement, allowing her to duck under the greatsword. She did not even look at the follow up strike as she turned and chased after the rogue, putting her in between both Inquisitors.

The rogue looked like he wanted to strike at Aria, but he knew that with his dagger’s ranged enchantment, he could hit his ally, so he did not. The red haired Inquisitor took a step towards Aria, when she saw the ground beneath Aria’s feet begin to glow. She took another step forward and called out.

"Don’t let her escape—"

She didn’t get to finish her sentence. The corpse behind her exploded. The redhead was blasted into the air, her body landing on the ground in a bloodied mess. A voice from a distance away screamed.

"Fria!"

It was the Saint.

***

Saint Theron could not suppress the cry that came out from his mouth. He spent a moment taking in the body of Fria, clearly distraught. He was not sure if she was dead, and that unnerved him.

Fria was new. A recently promoted Inquisitor. She showed great promise with how young and talented she was, so eager to prove herself she even went as far as to volunteer for this mission. Theron promised her that he would protect her, and now she was probably dead.

Theron knew of the magic the Fiend just used, or at least, he knew a variation of it. It was one of the powerful spells used by the Demons during the Holy Wars. Magic circles pre-prepared on set locations in battlefields. Traps set to explode when stepped on. Even with armor enchanted, enchanted by a Superior mana crystal, the explosion would still wipe out dozens of soldiers.

But the Fiend’s spell did not work that way. The ‘mines’ used in war always required a physical trigger, even if it wasn’t stepping on it. The Fiend’s spell however, was clearly altered to activate whenever the Fiend wanted it to. And that it did. She must have casted the spell on Leon’s corpse when she was dragging it out. Leon that idiot.

Theron couldn’t help but blame the man for his, and possibly Fria’s, death. He charged in after the Fiend by himself, thinking only of glory. Theron knew that Leon thought he had injured the Fiend, and wanted to kill her by himself, so he ran in without any backup. And he did injure her. She was much more sluggish in her movement when she came out, but she still managed to kill him before they could help. Only a few seconds passed from when Leon entered, before the Fiend walked out dragging his corpse behind her.

Theron gritted his teeth at the thought. He wanted to curse Leon, and curse the Fiend as well for being here, but in the end, he only cursed himself. And he cursed himself even more when he realized that he was distracted.

The Fiend teleported away from where she stood. Theron quickly glanced out of the village, thinking that she was running away again, but didn’t see her there. He turned back, trying to find where the Fiend ran off to, before he found her.

Contrary to what Theron thought, the Fiend did not try to escape. Not anymore. She did not teleport away from the village, but instead towards them— specifically, behind the rogue, Axel. Tina loosed an arrow from where she was, and Theron called out, but it was already too late. Axel was only halfway turned when the scythe cleaved right through his skull and he was dead. The arrow arrived a second later, but the Fiend simply twirled her scythe, blocking it with ease.

Mana began flowing through Theron’s veins as yellow lines streaked across his body. He was furious. Three of his teammates were already dead, and the Fiend was barely hurt. Four glowing yellow lances appeared around him, and launched straight at the Fiend. The Fiend lowered her hand onto the ground, and dozens of pillars of earth began to emerge from the ground around her. The pillars varied in shapes and sizes, with the largest towering over the houses around them, and the smallest barely the height of an average person.

The lances were intercepted by the pillars, and exploded on impact with each one, toppling several of the pillars at once. But there were still many left standing.

Arrows loosed into the jungle of earthen pillars, some exploding, some piercing, and some were just regular arrows. Despite her lowered mobility from being injured, the Fiend managed to avoid them all by dodging and weaving through her artificial stone forest.

Theron opened the palm of his hand to the sky, and felt the heat build up. The glowing yellow lines on his body from his previous miracle were still there. The heat eventually transformed into a ball of golden flames, to which he pointed at the Fiend. The Fiend kept moving, anticipating a ball of flames, but it never came.

A concentrated golden stream of fire flew from the Saint towards the Fiend, incinerating all the earth that stood between the two.. The Fiend kept moving away from the laser beam as it swept across the pillars, while carefully staying out of the line of sight of the archer.

The Fiend ran up to a pillar that was only slightly taller than her, and easily hopped on top of it Theron followed after her, his beam of light never once letting up. The Fiend continued moving from pillar to pillar, until she eventually reached the highest point, and had a view of the entire battlefield.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she used one hand to throw her scythe towards the Saint, and the other to launch a Grand Fireball at the archer. The miniature sun exploded first, being shot out of the air by Tina, while Theron had to halt his miracles to dodge the ethereal scythe.

As soon as the weapon passed Theron, the Fiend appeared next to it, catching it midair. She swung for his head. It happened too fast. Theron had no time to react. But it did not matter. The mana crystal on his chest shone, and a translucent golden light shimmered across his body, protecting him from the attack. The Fiend’s scythe bounced harmlessly off around Theron, and a lightning arrow flew right past the Fiend, stopping her follow up swing and forcing her to take a step back.

Theron knew that if he gave her even half second to herself, the Fiend would just teleport away, so he pressed her. With a flourish of his saber, he put one foot forward and stabbed. The Fiend stepped aside, and was about to counter the attack, when she noticed the spear. But it was too late.

She tried to dodge to the side, but she was too slow. The spear struck her right shoulder, spilling more blood than it should have. The Fiend limply swung her scythe around, forcing both attackers back, as she made her retreat. It was cut short however, as the ground beneath her shook, causing her to stumble.

The ground shook again, as a man with a large wall shield struck the ground towards the Fiend. A mini earthquake erupted in a 15 foot cone in the direction the shield was pointed at, causing the ground to crack. The Fiend almost fell, barely managing to catch herself by planting the pole of her scythe on the ground, when an arrow struck her uninjured shoulder.

Theron could not resist smiling as he looked at the Fiend. They had her surrounded and injured. He knew that she could not escape and neither could she win, and he knew that she realized that too.

They were going to keep pressing her so that she couldn’t use any truly powerful spells to escape or fight back. They were going to keep whittling her down, bit by bit, and then they were going to kill her.

For Fria, for Leon, and for Axel. For all the people she had hurt and killed. For the world. For the Goddess. They were going to kill her.

He was going to kill her.

***

I ran as fast as I could.

My heart was pounding, my body aching, but still I ran. I wasn’t running that fast, considering that my body was that of a ten year old, and my legs were still injured, but in spite of all that, I was doing good on time.

The explosions in the distance rang in my ears, despite my best attempts to ignore it; I put all my focus on my breathing, attempting to maintain a good rhythm so that I wouldn’t have to immediately catch my breath once I arrived.

To be honest, I was not even sure what I could do once I was there. I could not use magic, and I could not fight. I was only a child that only knew how to use mana tools, without actually owning any. And even if I did have a gun of some sort, would it actually help against whoever my mom was fighting? No. No it would not.

But I had to do something! Maybe I would be able to distract them by shouting. Maybe I would even be able to hinder them with some well-timed rocks. Or maybe, I would just die. Whatever it was I could do, I wouldn’t be able to do it if I was not there. So, I ran.

I kept on running as fast as I could. I ignored the pain, ignored the fatigue, and ignored the fact that I could be running to my death. So what if I die? I’ve already died once!

I knew that I was probably being fatalistic; I knew that, but I didn’t care. Even if I could lie to myself and hope for the best, I still had to prepare myself for the worst.

I slowly began to deviate away from the dirt path that led from my house to Villamcreek, cutting through the forest to save time. The lumbering trees blocked most of my vision, but I knew that I had finally arrived. I pushed myself through the branches, exiting the thicket, and then I saw it.

My mom was surrounded by three armed men just outside of Villamcreek. She was injured, a couple arrows sticking out of her sides and back, and with gashes on her arms and shoulders. Despite that, she was fighting back. Two of the Inquisitors looked injured as well, though not as badly as my mom was, while the one with a saber only looked tired. The fighting looked like it began inside the village, but was slowly brought out.

It was a battle, but my mom treated it like a dance. She moved graciously. Almost as if she had practiced these moves all her life. Decades of experience separated her from her dance partners, and it showed as she kept them always one step behind her. And yet, they outnumbered her.

My mom twirled, spinning her scythe in a huge arc around her. The Inquisitors kept their distance, pushed back by the attack. She pointed a finger at the Inquisitor with a shield, firing a purple beam of light at him. As the Inquisitor raised his wall shield to block it, my mom dashed forward at the other Inquisitor with the spear. She raised her scythe to strike the spear Inquisitor, when glowing arrows landed on the ground between them and exploded.

The impact from the explosion made my mom stagger backwards, giving the man with the saber an opportunity to take a swing. His attack grazed my mom’s arm, drawing some blood, but ultimately doing negligible damage. At least, by itself. When the man backed up, and the fighting continued, I quickly understood what they were doing.

They were trying to slowly wear down my mom, getting in whatever hits they could, all the while preventing her from running. It was a war of attrition, and they were winning.

My mom clearly knew this. She knew she would lose this fight if this continued, so she had to break the encirclement. She had to single them out— break them apart from each other. But as long as the archer was there, that would be impossible.

So I quickly scanned the direction the arrows came from, searching for the archer. There. I found her standing just over a hundred feet away from the fighting, inside of Villamcreek. She had arrows nocked and ready to fire, just waiting for the right moment to shoot.

I started heading in her direction, keeping out of her sight as I did; I doubted she would have noticed me even if I did not sneak up on her since she was distracted, but I had to be cautious. The fighting continued behind me, with the occasional spells being loosed by my mom as I made my way towards the archer.

As I walked, I searched for anything that could help me distract the archer. Just like how the archer only needed to act when the time was right, I did too. If I stopped her from firing an arrow just once at the right moment, I know that my mom would escape her predicament.

My adrenaline slowly died down as I got closer to the woman, and the pain in my body returned in full force. It was only tolerable previously, but now I let out a soft grunt with every step that I took. Thankfully, the noise was masked by the clash of metal in the background, so the archer never turned to face me once.

I brought my focus away from the pain, focusing on finding something I could use to distract the archer. I suddenly felt something brush against my sides. It wasn’t something that I could see, neither was it something that was moving. It was something inside my clothes— in my pockets.

I reached in and felt something cool and hard. I pulled my hand back out, and looked at the prism-like object resting on my palm. It was the lighter.

I knew it was dangerous. I knew that the last time I did it, I almost died. But there was nothing else I could do. There was nothing else I could use. So I had to do it.

I edged closer towards the archer, crouching a couple feet behind her, and felt myself poking at the lighter’s crystal. Nothing happened just yet. I was only feeling the mana, preparing it for when it was needed.

I looked at the fighting, and focused entirely on my mom. Even while injured, she was fast. I could barely keep up. It was almost completely a blur. My mom could swing her scythe and cast her spells in the same motion. But she was still in trouble. Still injured. And I wanted to help her. But I could not— not just yet. So, I waited.

I saw my mom spin, the scythe’s shaft on her lower back as she completed a turn. I saw my mom strike the man who shone at the impact, stumbling back uninjured but exhausted. I saw my mom stab at the man with the spear, who stepped back to dodge it. Then I saw my mom raise her weapon— Now!

I threw the lighter as hard as I could. I pushed the mana in the crystal to explode as gently as I could. I hoped that maybe that would delay the explosion by a second, and it would not just blow up on me. And somehow, it worked.

The lighter left my hand, as my mom threw a spell at the spearman, and charged the shielder. The archer was prepared for it. She simply adjusted her aim slightly to intercept my mom, and was about to loose an arrow, when the lighter exploded right behind her head.

The explosion was not big. It did not carry as much force or power as the one that killed the Chimera, but it was enough to knock me to the ground a couple feet back. It was nowhere near as effective against the archer, but it served its purpose: the archer stumbled forward, accidentally fired her arrow, causing her to miss her target. It bought only a momentary reprieve for my mom, but it was enough.

My mom rushed the shielder unhindered, and swung at him. His shield glowed blue as the purple edge of the scythe came into contact with it, forcing him a step back. Using the scythe’s center as a fulcrum, my mom brought her entire body with it, going straight for his shield. The pole of the scythe struck the side of it, creating magical flames at the impact. The magic of the flames and the magic of the shield repelled each other, causing both the flames and the blue light to dissipate. The barrier would have returned a moment later, but it was too late.

I watched as my mom’s scythe sliced through the shielder’s neck, killing him instantly. It only took a second. After the first hit, it only took a single spin from my mom to both disable his defenses, and end his life. I could not help by gawk at how amazing my mom was, which was probably why I didn’t notice the archer turning to face me.

If I was paying attention, I would’ve seen her turn to me in anger. If I was paying attention, I would’ve seen her anger contort into terror. I only noticed her when she gasped.

"You— the Fiend?!"

I looked up and saw her drawing her bow at me. I immediately tensed. This is where I die, I thought. The archer already had an arrow on her bow and was about to pull it back, when her head flew off her body.

I blinked as the body crumpled to the ground. Blood splattered on me, but I did not pay attention to it. Because I saw my mom standing there. Over where the archer once was, my mother locked eyes with me and smiled.

"Melas," spoke my mom, voice gentle and full of love.

My lips slowly curled to a smile, and I opened my mouth to speak. But all that came out was a shout. A shout of pure agony. Pain filled my entire being, one unlike anything I had felt before. I screamed and felt it in my heart, in my bones, and in my soul. I screamed, but it was not a physical pain. It was an emotional one.

A golden beam of light blasted straight through my mom’s chest. The beam lasted mere seconds, but it left behind nothing. Nothing but a gaping hole where my mom’s chest once was. And then she fell.

My mother fell.

I screamed.

Chapter 9: Destiny's Child

I screamed.

My voice came out reactively. It held not words with any meaning, yet it conveyed more than words ever could. It was a scream of pure and simple agony. My mother lay on the ground, unmoving. Dead.

So I screamed as loud as I could, but I didn’t hear it. I couldn’t hear it. The world went quiet all around me as I screamed; my body went numb, and my legs gave out. I crumpled to the floor where I stood, my voice slowly giving out. Tears streamed down from my face, and my mouth hung open in a silent shout.

I never even realized that I lost my voice.

I stared at the blurry picture of my mom’s body, and felt my head spin as I tried to process what had happened. Was this real? Was this actually happening? I did not know.

No. I knew what was happening— I understood clearly what had happened. Even though my vision was muddled and my hearing was gone, I knew that my mother was dead. My mom, the only reason I had to live in this world— the only person I truly love in this world— was dead.

More tears began to fall, and I could no longer see. Everything was dark, the world around me lost its light as water blocked my vision. With no sound and no sight, the world was empty.

At some point, my head must have fallen to the ground. I did not know if I brought it down myself, or if my body moved by itself. But it was a good thing. I could not see the vague outline of my mom’s body any more, so I could just pretend that she was alive. That none of this happened, and it was just a nightmare.

I choked up at that thought.

I couldn’t deny it. There was nothing I could do about it. The very thing I had been trying to prevent— my worst nightmare that I could never dream of— has happened.

My mom is dead.

She was dead. And it was all because of... me? Was it because I wasn’t good enough? Was I the reason—

"What…her—?"

"...kill...leave…? Daughter… Fie—."

My thoughts were interrupted by vague sounds. At first I tried to ignore it, but slowly I realized. It was them.

Yes, it was because of them— because of the Inquisitors, that my mom died. Not because of anything I did, it was because they killed her. I did not do this, they did. They killed her!

I felt something boiling inside me— hatred pouring out from my heart, coming from the very depths of my soul. The world began to clear up, as I focused every ounce of my energy on my anger. My vision focused, the words started to make sense, and the world was moving again.

I tried to pick myself up, but my body was sluggish. I was not sure why it was so difficult to stand, not feeling the stinging pain coming from my legs; forgetting that I was even injured, I stood up.

It took me a moment, but I was standing. I looked up, towards where the voices were coming from, but my vision was still foggy. I clenched my fists, trying to clearly take in what the Inquisitors were doing as I thought out my plan of action. I was going to do something. I had to do something.

Countless thoughts flowed through my head. Each new one that came was worse off than the rest. But they all came to a stop as my vision focused, and I saw what the spearman was doing.

He was pulling out a bottle. I did not know where it came from, but it must’ve come from somewhere. It was a metal bottle, decorated with red crystals around it. It had a diamond shaped glass cork, and had an image engraved on its front. No, it wasn’t a picture, but a letter. The letter H.

It was a healing potion.

Memories began to flash in my head. All the times my mom told me about how powerful healing potions could be. How regular healing potions could heal near fatal injuries, and how high quality ones could even regrow lost limbs.

I also remembered blacking out. I remembered how my chest was cleaved through, and how my arm was blown off. It felt like so long ago, but I knew that it just happened; I almost died, and a healing potion fixed me. It brought me back from the brink of death.

I looked at the potion the spearman held, and then there was hope. If a healing potion could save me, it could save my mom. I can save my mom. I just had to get it from him.

With determination, I took a step forward. As I did so, the spearman raised one hand, and I froze. I thought he was going to attack me, but all he did was uncork the bottle. I felt a moment of relief, then it hit me. He was going to use the potion on himself.

Panic set in, as he raised the bottle to his mouth. He was going to take away my only method of saving my mom, and I could not do anything about it. I felt the world grow around me, and he was suddenly far away.

The distance between us did not change, but it felt like he was so far away, and I was so small. I wanted to do something, but it felt like there was something between us. Something was between me and my goal, but I had to get it. I needed to get the potion, but I could do nothing but reach out—

I raised one hand towards the spearman, and then the obstacle was gone. No, it wasn’t gone. It became something else. The world that became larger than life was still big, but it no longer oppressed me. What once felt like a solid wall blocking me from the man, was now a pool of water I could reach into. So I reached into it.

It was just like a swimming pool. It felt almost as if I was a kid, and I dropped something into the pool. The water was clear, but the object looked to be so far away. My arm looked so small, it was impossible to reach the item at the bottom of the pool. But when I dipped my hand into the pool, suddenly my arm was bigger.

But my arm did not actually grow. The light refracted off the surface of the water, only giving the illusion of growth. But the kid does not know that, so the kid excitedly grabs for the object. The kid reaches for it— and holds it in her hand. Because the object was never at the bottom of the pool. It was always floating near the surface, only appearing to be at the bottom.

The moment my hand wrapped around the bottle, I pulled it towards me. I pulled as hard as I could, and the healing potion came flying towards me. It slipped out of the spearman’s hands, and flew straight at me, almost like a retracting arm. It came at me, and stopped within arms reach away from me. That was when I noticed the blue light coming from my hand.

A small magic circle, about the size of my open palm, was on my outstretched hand. The magic circle only had a dozen lines intersecting into one another, creating a shape that vaguely resembled a hand. It looked like I was touching the circle, but it only looked that way. My hand felt empty despite the magic circle being on it, but I still felt like I was holding the potion.

The sensation of holding came from neither of my hands. It felt almost as if I grew a third arm that could stretch and go wherever it pleased. Of course, I was not sure what the limitations of this magic hand was, but that did not matter right now. What matters is that I got this potion to my mom.

Stupidly, I grabbed the potion with my real hands and stumbled towards my mom’s body, instead of using the magic hand to bring it to her. The fact that I was doing magic completely eluded me, even when the spell ended. But as the magic circle dissipated, so did the stupor that the Inquisitors were in.

Apparently, the Inquisitors did not think that I could do magic, and were momentarily stunned when I did. But that effect ended, and one of them— the spearman— shouted out.

"Give that back! I’ll kill you, you heretic!"

He picked up his spear, and lifted it over his head like a javelin, but was stopped by his companion. He did not seem enthused by the spearman’s actions

"What are you doing?! She’s a child!"

"She’s a child of the Fiend, and a heretic herself! Did you not see what she did?"

"But... " The fancily dressed man hesitated, but the spearman continued.

"Worry not, Saint. I know you have your virtues to uphold. But she is a heretic, and it is my duty to kill her. Even if she’s a little girl, she could become a threat to the Church like her mother once was."

This time, the Saint didn’t speak. He still looked uneasy about the idea of killing a kid, but the spearman had convinced him enough not to act. The spearman raised his weapon, and the Saint simply looked away.

See no evil? What a coward. He would not even dare watch as his companion struck me down, yet he was supposed to be a Saint. It was ridiculous. But at least he managed to buy me enough time.

I was already kneeling by my mom’s body, when their conversation ended. I would save my mom even if the spearman skewered me. I would have been fine with that, as long as my mom lived. Raising the potion over the wound, I tipped it over—

The spearman threw his spear, it turned and a glowing red lance arced towards me, leaving behind a trail of red light. It moved fast. Faster than I could even turn over the potion. By the time a drop of healing potion exited the bottle, the spear shattered the bottle and went straight for my face. I was going to die before I could get more than a drop in.

I failed.

Time froze to a stop as despair settled into my very being. I was going to die, and I couldn’t even save my mom. Everything I did was pointless. Every attempt I made to protect my mom— every attempt I made to save her— all of it was pointless.

As the spear came at me, I tried to blink. I knew I would die before I could even close my eyes, but I tried to do it anyways. It was not a conscious decision, it was something out of instinct. So I blinked.

Darkness filled my vision for a moment, and when I opened my eyes, everything was dark. At first, I thought I had died, that the spear killed me so quick I never even felt it. But when my eyes adjusted to the lack of light, I saw flames.

Fire. Pure black flames swirled all around me. It absorbed the light from its surroundings, and disintegrated everything it touched. When it came into contact with the ground, it did not burn it, the ground was simply just gone.

The fire consumed everything, and I heard what sounded like a scream for a brief moment, as the fire engulfed the spearman. In an instant, he was dead.

The Saint did not instantly die like his companion did. Instead, a golden aura protected him as the flames came into contact with him. The light shimmered, and cracks immediately formed all around the mana crystal on his chest.

The Saint noticed this, and hundreds of golden lines formed throughout his body. Golden flames erupted around him, fighting back against the black fire that attacked him. The golden flames barely put up a fight, being destroyed the moment they appeared. But it still gave him enough of a barrier to survive for now.

At first, I thought that somehow I did this. That somehow, I casted this spell. But looking around, it was clear that I did not. The black flames ate everything between me and the Saint. It was too powerful to be anything I could possibly do, and neither did I remember doing anything. I looked around, searching for the person who could possibly cast such powerful magic, when the thought quickly vanished.

I looked down, and my mom was gone. I panicked, thinking that the flames must have destroyed my mom’s body. I immediately felt emotions welling up inside of me, when a calmness suddenly enveloped me. I looked to see what the source of this feeling was, and saw two arms, wrapped around me.

My mom stood behind me, hugging me.

"It’s ok, Melas. It’s ok."

I closed my eyes, and I smiled.

It was a miracle.

***

Aria stood with her daughter, embracing her as the storm of black flames raged behind her back.

The Flames of Hell. It was one of the most powerful spells that Aria knew. It brought forth a tempest of jet black fire that was so dark it sucked out all the light from the surrounding area and left nothing in its wake. Staring into its darkness and the desolation it brought was like staring into Hell itself. It was truly a spell that befitted its name.

It was so powerful, Aria once used it to route an army from the Holy Xan Empire. The only problem with the spell was that it took time to cast— time which her daughter bought for her.

Aria looked down at her daughter and felt her heart ache.

She felt guilty for putting her daughter in danger, for using her daughter to buy time as she prepared this spell, but she had no other choice.

If it was only Inquisitors that discovered her, Aria would have had no problem killing them without any preparations. But the Saint was powerful enough to counter most of the spells she knew. Even the Flames of Hell.

Aria did not turn to look at the Saint, but she knew he was still alive. He was fighting to survive the onslaught of black flames, and it did not look like he was going to lose anytime soon. He was why Aria had to put her daughter in danger, but still Aria felt guilty.

However, if Aria felt guilty over endangering her daughter even if only for a minute, she did not think of that. Rather, she could not.

Something else loomed over that guilt. A guilt so large, it crushed her very soul itself. It was an unforgivable sin— something a mother could never justify or rationalize. She was dead.

Aria looked down at the gaping hole in her chest. At the place where her heart, lungs, and other vital organs should be. There was nothing there. She was dead, and yet she was alive for now.

It was not something that could be explained normally. It was not even something that magic could explain. Necromancy could not do this. It allowed the living to reanimate the dead, and Aria was dead. So that was not possible.

No— this was something even beyond magic. Something most mortals could never do. It was something only a Saint or Saintess could do. Or rather, something they were supposedly only able to do.

It was a miracle. Power bestowed upon mortals by the Goddess to destroy the wicked Demons and those who follow their dark magic. And yet, it was a miracle that allowed Aria to live for now.

Aria wanted to see the Saint’s reaction. He probably understood what happened but was too stupefied to fully comprehend it in the moment. She wanted to laugh just thinking about that.

But Aria did not laugh. She was too guilty to laugh. Because even though it was a miracle that let her save her daughter, it was the miracle that would break Melas.

Aria looked at the streaks of glowing purple lines that ran throughout her body. Once they faded— once the miracle ended— Aria was going to leave her daughter once and for all. Despite her promise, and despite her best attempts, she had failed. So, Aria spoke slowly.

"Melas."

"Yes mommy?" The little girl smiled as she looked up at her mother. Her gaze passed over the hole in Aria’s chest as if it was not there, and she locked eyes with her mom. "You’re alive... I’m so glad."

Perhaps somewhere deep inside of Melas, she knew Aria was dead. That whatever this was, it was temporary. But the little girl ignored that feeling, choosing to believe that her mother was fine. Aria smiled bitterly at her daughter’s denial..

"Melas, I am sorry."

"What are you sorry about mom? You’re alive! We can finally leave—" The little girl got no further as Aria’s hug around her tightened.

"Shh, Melas. It’s ok, my daughter." Aria slowly let go of the girl, and knelt down in front of her. She pressed her head against her daughter’s, and closed her eyes. "You will be ok, my daughter. I love you so much."

With those words, Melas finally understood. The pieces that were all there finally connected and she tightly gripped her mother’s arm as she began to cry.

"Please, mom. Don’t—" The little girl choked on the words and swallowed hard. "Don’t leave me. Don’t go."

"I am sorry," said Aria, voice broken at the sight of her crying daughter.

She felt as though it were her fault. As if there were something different she could have done to prevent this. But there was not.

It was pure chance that brought about this meeting. Not destiny, and not fate. Aria was simply at the wrong place at the wrong time. Or maybe it was the Inquisitors who were at the right place at the right time.

Regardless, it had happened, and there was no longer anything that could be done about it. Aria was going to die and leave her daughter alone in this world. Her beautiful, gentle, and wonderful daughter. Aria took one last long look at her daughter as her vision became blurry.

A single teardrop fell from her face as she pulled her head back. Aria tried to hold herself together. She could not cry, not in front of her daughter. She had to be strong in the final moments.

But Melas did not. So she cried and wept and bawled her eyes out. A gentle hand reached out and wiped the tears from the little girl’s eyes. Aria tenderly held onto her daughter until her crying subsided. Until Melas finally looked her mother in the eyes. Only then did Aria speak.

"You are so amazing and wonderful, Melas. From the moment you were born, you were the light of my life and my only purpose of living. You are a gift sent down from the Goddess, an angel that came down to me to soothe my wicked soul."

Aria smiled down at her daughter, and Melas knew it was a true smile.

"You were the first miracle that ever happened to me, and I never could imagine a world without you, my daughter. I thought I could always protect you, but I never could. Instead, you were the one who always protected me."

Melas tried to protest, but Aria did not let her. She hushed her daughter, bringing a single finger over her mouth, gently pressing it against her lips.

"You gave me the strength to live and gave me a reason to continue even when I had lost everything. You are everything to me, Melas, but now it is time for you to go."

Aria leaned forward and gently kissed her daughter.

"Thank you, Melas. I will always love you," spoke the mother softly, as she slowly got back up.

And then she turned and faced her fate. She heard a whimper and more crying from her daughter, but no words. There was nothing else to be said.

Melas cried and then ran. She cried as she ran into hell. As she ran past the violent storm of fire and fury. As the darkness bore down on her. But she was never consumed by the darkness, nor did the flames ever touch her. It stayed away from her, as her mother protected her in her death.

Melas ran, and ran, and ran. She ran away from the flames, away from the village, and away from this nightmare. And not once did Aria turn to face her daughter.

Aria was crying, and she did not let her daughter see her cry. She wanted her daughter’s last memory of her mother to be of a smiling woman. Happy to have been given a chance to redeem herself. Of a woman who loved her daughter and cared for her with her life. So she did not watch her daughter disappear.

But Aria knew when Melas was gone. And when she was, only then did she finally speak.

"You’re still alive."

"...how?"

The Saint shot a glare at the Fiend.

The woman took a second to compose herself and wipe away her tears. And then, she met Saint Theron’s gaze and smiled innocently at his contempt.

"Whatever could you mean?"

"You know what I mean!" snapped the Saint. "How could a heretic like you—"

He was abruptly cut off as a column of black flames crashed onto him. Golden fire fought back against the torrent from the hellish spell. But it was losing. Already, his armor was broken in a few places, and the mana crystal on his breastplate was falling apart.

Theron’s armor and his miracles were failing him. But it would take time. Time which Aria did not have.

Aria was going to die. But she was going to make the man who took everything away from her suffer before she did. She continued barraging him with fire as she spoke mockingly.

"There are many things you do not know, Saint. Many things that the Church lied to you about. Miracles do not belong only to people like you. It is something anyone can do. Anyone can perform. Like magic. You believe that the Goddess favors you and hates us, but that can not be further from the truth."

The man shouted something at her, but she ignored it. She did not care for what someone indoctrinated by the Church— by the Holy Xan Empire— had to say. So she spoke over him.

"The Goddess loves us all equally. She loves me just as much as she loves you. After all, she has gifted you with miracles to help you crush your enemies. And as for me—"

Aria gestured to herself.

"The Goddess gave me my daughter."

It was as if someone suddenly sewed the Saint’s mouth shut. He stopped shouting and stared at Aria. Truly stared at her. As if she was an actual person and not just some terrible Monster.

"Impossible," said the Saint as his eyes widened in disbelief.

Aria could not help but laugh at the look on his face. She stopped raining the black flames down on him as she met his gaze.

"It is the truth."

"You are lying!" shouted him, voice full of anger. "That child— she cannot be… she is not…"

He trailed off as Aria held his gaze. Slowly, she raised her arms up to her sides and spoke. Her final act. To protect her daughter once and for all. To fulfill her promise.

"She is the Child of the Goddess. She is Her Daughter. My daughter. And if you go after her— if you dare lay a hand on my Melas— you would be going against Her will, and you will forever suffer."

With that final warning, Aria collapsed.

The purple lines that ran across Aria’s body vanished. And the black flames dissipated into the air and light shone down on the Saint’s face. He was dumbstruck.

And Aria was dead.

***

I ran.

I did not know how long I ran for. Day turned into night, and the road into forest. I ran past trees and animals and Monsters, but I did not care if I got eaten. I ran, and ran, and ran until the pain in my legs disappeared. Until they bled with every step. Until I wanted to collapse and die.

But still, I ran.

Because that was the last thing my mom told me to do. She told me to leave, and so I did; I did not know where I was going, or where I was supposed to go. Only that maybe, if I listened to my mom, she would maybe somehow come back.

And as I ran, I never stopped crying. Tears stopped falling from my face, my ears stopped ringing, and my vision cleared up.

But still I could not see.

But still I could not hear.

But still I cried.

I did notice the sun set, nor did I notice the Monster charge at me. I did not even feel it when my body limply flew a hundred feet when the monster rammed into me like a truck.

I did not know why I knew what being hit by a truck felt like. Or what a truck was even supposed to be. Nothing made sense to me, and I understood nothing.

Even when I looked up at the 12 foot tall horned bear-like creature as it stood over my crumpled half-dead body, I still did not know what was going on.

Because my mother was dead.

And that was all that mattered to me; I did not care for this world or for the me living in this world. I had already died once, so why did it matter if I died again?

I only cared for my mom, and she was dead. She was the only reason I had to live in this world. So, as the Monster pressed its claws down on my chest and bore its fangs at me, I did not even struggle. The Monster's mouth closed in on me, and then—

A 10 foot titan grabbed the beast and pulled its head back away from me. The Monster struggled against the giant of a man’s grip, but he simply raised it above his head. With both of his hands, the titan ripped the monster in half.

Blood and guts rained down all over me, but I did not blink. I stared at my savior and for the first time in what felt like forever, I felt something other than despair. Something that burned within me. At first, I did not know what it was. And as I tried to figure it out, two more figures appeared behind the giant of a man, and together they surrounded me.

The first to speak was the titan. He stood to my left, wearing a full set of knight’s armor that covered all but his eyes. Two gleaming red pupils shone through the visor of his helmet, and an ethereal voice echoed through it.

"Child of creation, fear not the perils of life and embrace death. Thou art one destined to be His, and through Him thou shalt attain salvation."

The next to speak was the man to my right. He was dressed all in black and had a pointed hat. I recognized him as the man I met in the forest a few days ago. He had brilliant blue eyes that reflected the moon's light, and his voice was just as rough yet proper as I remembered.

"Young one, He has granted your desires. He has given you all that you wished for. All that you have asked of Him. And with Him, you shall be supreme."

And finally, the child standing in front of me spoke. He was a boy who looked a few years older than myself. He had white hair and was dressed in purple robes lined with gold trimmings. He looked at me with piercing golden eyes, and smiled gently. But unlike the others, he did not address me.

"Long may He reign."

That was all he said before he touched me. And when he did, I felt my consciousness fading and darkness slowly envelope me.

As my consciousness vanished, my mind cleared up for a second. For just a moment, I could think clearly. And it was then, I understood what it was I felt burning deep inside me.

I finally realized that I truly despised this world.

The End of

PART ONE

Chapter 10: Interlude - Villamcreek

It was morning when the young woman woke up. She groggily rubbed at her eyes as she took in the sun’s rays. The red haired woman yawned and slowly sat up in her bed— except, it was not her bed.

Fria realized this and jumped out of the bed and took in her surroundings. She was alive. That was good. But what happened? The last thing the young Inquisitor remembered was… the Fiend.

The Fiend had just killed Leon and was dragging his corpse around. Fria remembered seeing that and flying into a fit of rage, attacking the heretic and then—

And then she blew up.

Fria looked down at herself and saw no wounds on her body. She was not wearing her armor, but was instead clothed in some loose fitting robes. The red head touched herself and only felt soft skin, almost as if the flesh was tender and new.

It was the work of a healing potion. Her skin and tissues would be delicate and easy to come into harm for the next few days, and her muscles would be weaker. She would have to be careful not to injure herself before she was fully recovered.

The young woman fell at the thought. Fria was a new Inquisitor and this was her first mission. And it was not just a regular first mission Inquisitors took. No— it was a mission with Saint Theron.

The Saint was a handsome, charming, and talented man. She knew he had a vow of celibacy, but she at least wanted to try and impress him a little. Of course, she also wanted to prove herself to her team but—

Fria’s train of thought was interrupted by a knock from the door. The red head looked up and saw the door swing open as Saint Theron entered the room.

The blonde man was carrying a bowl of soup and seemed startled to see her up and about. "Fria… you’re awake. That’s good."

Saint Theron placed the bowl on a table next to the bed and smiled at the young woman. She blushed.

"Oh, thank you." She managed to muster a smile back, and then it immediately slipped. "I— um, I’m sorry for letting you down. I was careless. It’s just— I saw Leon and…"

Fria trailed off. Saint Theron just nodded and then shook his head.

"We were all careless. The Fiend was much more powerful than we thought. But she’s gone now."

Fria blinked, and then slowly nodded her head. The Fiend was dead. It was expected since she was alive and Theron was standing here in front of her. But it was still shocking to hear.

The Fiend was a terror. Everyone in the Church knew about her and her crimes. They said she once crushed an entire army all by herself. She was like a true Demon from Hell. And she was now dead.

Fria could not help but smile at the thought. Even though the Fiend has been in hiding for the last decade, she was still a problem that lingered in the background. Like a plague that never went away, it was like she could come back any day. And now the plague was gone.

"This is— we have to tell the Church! I can’t believe it! She’s really gone. Do the others know about this? Of course they do!"

Fria chattered excitedly to the Saint, forgetting about rank for the moment. However, Saint Theron did not look at her. Instead, he gently placed a hand on Fria’s shoulder and spoke slowly.

"They’re dead, Fria. You and I are all that’s left."

The young woman froze. She stared at the Saint, and the man hesitantly returned her gaze. Her heart rate sped up, and her breathing quickened.

"It can’t be..." Her voice was a whisper, and her face was pale with shock. "...all of them?"

"I am sorry."

If you were to look at it objectively, it was a clear victory. It was not even a pyrrhic victory that cost the lives of thousands of men. It was a win in every sense of the word. Yet, Fria was not celebrating.

Because all her friends were dead.

It was true that she had only known them for the past six months. And it was true that she did not like all of them. But they were still her friends, and they were dead.

But it was still a victory. The young woman tried to tell herself that, but she could not feel happy about it. The only thing she could think of right now was of her dead friends.

She was standing behind Saint Theron as he was speaking to the villagers. They had to compensate the village for damage caused from the battle, but Fria could not bring herself to focus on what they were saying. Regret, guilt, and grief, all plagued her mind.

What if I was stronger? Why was I so reckless? If only I did not—

All these thoughts came and went. But it would not change a thing.

Fria got herself incapacitated because she lost her temper. She was out for three days because of that. And because of that she could not help her allies when they needed her the most.

Fria wanted to cry but she could not. Not in front of all these people. So instead she looked down and grit her teeth.

"Fria."

Fria looked up and noticed Saint Theron standing in front of her. He was with a middle aged man whom she recognized as the man who defended the Fiend. She glared at him as the Saint continued.

"I spoke with villagers and they agreed to accept five hundred gold coins for the damages we caused. However, Mr Walden here also had an additional request of us which I feel we should accept. But I was hoping to hear your thoughts on the matter."

Fria blinked, and barely stopped herself from shouting at the man. Additional request? After you tried to protect the Fiend?! The red haired woman did not even try to hide her animosity. But Walden ignored it.

"Thank you, Sir Saint. Madam Inquisitor, I have requested on behalf of the village for one of our children to be taken along with you on your return trip to Xanderia. He is a bright young boy—"

"Return to Xanderia?!" Fria interrupted the man and looked at the Saint. "But we haven’t completed our mission!"

Saint Theron shook his head apologetically.

"I’m sorry, Fria. But I will not continue this mission alone. You have read the reports yourself. These Devil worshippers we were investigating are as big of a threat as the Dark Crusaders, and have the potential to be more dangerous than the Shadow Evangelium once was. Tracking them down with just the two of us is not an option."

Fria just stared at the Saint she so admired blankly. He ignored the look she gave him and gestured to Walden. "Please, let us hear him out."

"...yes sir," Fria said begrudgingly. With that, the Saint nodded to Walden and he continued.

"Thank you, Madam Inquisitor. Our village is humble and small, but every decade or so, we produce a child who is too big for this tiny place. When that happens, we usually pool in our resources and send the child to the Capital of our nation, Remheart, to be educated."

The Inquisitor nodded her head and then finished his thought for him.

"But now you have got the opportunity to send this kid to the Capital of the Holy Xan Empire for free, is that it?"

"We are willing to pay for his education and the trip there, of course."

The young woman folded her arms.

"If you can afford it, why have you never done it before? Why can’t you just do it yourselves?"

"Xanderia is far and foreign to us. If we send a child alone to some place so distant, who knows what could happen and whether not the child could even secure a better education. But with your help we believe these would not be a problem. And this child in particular is more talented than any—" The middle aged man gently coughed. "Than any other boy I have ever seen in my life. He’s only 11 years old and he already knows how to work basic mana tools."

Fria had to raise her eyebrows at that. That was talented. Fria only learned how to use mana tools when she was 12, and she was considered a genius even at Xander’s Academy. But this boy learned it a year before she did, without any formal training. She sighed.

"And you’re ok with bringing this boy with us, Saint Theron?"

"I think it would help make amends. And it isn’t good to waste young talent."

"Fine. If Saint Theron approves of this, I have no other choice but to agree as well. Where is this boy?"

Fria looked at Walden expectantly. The man bowed his head. "Our village will forever be in your debt. If you will follow me I will lead you to the child’s house."

The two outsiders followed the villager to a house near the outskirts of Villamcreek. There, he knocked on the door and a brown haired woman answered the door.

"Mr Walden? And who are these people?"

"Good afternoon Mrs Natalie. This is Saint Theron and the Inquisitor Fria, may we come in?"

The woman gasped and quickly bowed her head. "Oh— of course! I’m sorry for my rudeness, Sir Saint, Madam Inquisitor. Please come in!"

Saint Theron smiled charmingly at the woman.

"It is no problem at all. We weren’t dressed in uniform so it is not surprising for you not to recognize us."

The woman blushed and Fria caught herself from scowling. Natalie led the three visitors to a table and offered them some drinks. After serving them some drinks, the woman brought a gruff man over.

"Sir Saint, Madam Inquisitor, Walden, may I ask what this is about?" the brown haired man named Benedict asked.

Walden explained to them, and their jaws dropped.

"Send him to Xanderia? That’s so far away! But..." Natalie looked conflicted. She turned to her husband, but he was more resolute.

"It is far, but it is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I think we should accept it."

Saint Theron reassured the couple.

"There is no need to worry. We promise we will take care of your son."

"Thank you, Sir Saint. We shall bring him out now."

Natalie got up and walked away for a bit. She soon came back with a young boy who looked like he inherited only the good traits from his parents. The boy paused when he saw the visitors.

"Mom? Dad? What’s going on?"

Walden smiled at the boy and began to explain what was going on. All along, Fria noticed the boys’ parents nodding happily, but the boy just froze and stared at her and the Saint. The Saint must have noticed it too because he exchanged a glance with Fria.

Walden finished his explanation, and Natalie bent down and smiled at the boy. "Aren’t you excited, sweetie? You’ll get to study at Xanderia’s renowned academy! Oh you must be so—"

The woman got no further as the boy shouted.

"No!"

Everyone in the room froze. The boy’s mother looked back at the Saint and the Inquisitor, and spoke hurriedly.

"What’s wrong sweetie? I know it’s sudden, but it’s for the best. You’re so gifted and amazing and if you go with them they’ll be able to bring out the best in you! It’s an opportunity not everyone gets, you understand that right, honey?"

Natalie tried to coax her son, but the boy was shaking. He looked up at his mother and pointed at the Fria and the Saint, and shouted with fury.

"No! They killed— they murdered Ms Aria! Melas’ mom! And now she’s missing now too! What if— what if she’s dead?!"

Adrian glared at Fria and Theron. Tears were streaming out of his face, and his entire body was trembling. "You’re— you’re evil! I will not go with you!"

Benedict stood up and looked as if he was about to yell at his son, but before anyone could say anything, the boy turned and ran out of the house.

Immediately after Adrian left, his parents began profusely apologizing to the Saint and Fria. Fria was as expected, furious about it, however the Saint not only looked strangely bothered by it, he also seemed a little… morose. As if he actually took what the boy said to heart.

Regardless, they reassured Walden and the couple that they were leaving in two days, and if Adrian changed his mind before then, they would bring him with them. Then they left the house and the Saint left Fria to her own devices.

Fria wandered the village for a bit and soon found herself outside of Villamcreek. She was not sure why she left, only that she heard that the Fiend lived in a ramshackle hut outside of the village, so she went there.

The red haired woman found herself standing in front of a cabin a bit aways from the village. She stared at its properly kept garden for a moment, before walking up to the front door. The wooden door creaked open and she stepped in.

The interior was… a house. There was a kitchen, two bedrooms, and a living room. It was not anything fancy, but it looked nice and homely. There were jars of plants and other liquids arranged in a neat row on some shelves, and some books in another.

Fria paused, and a thought finally crossed her mind. Was this really a victory? She had lost all her friends, and lost their only lead on the Cult for… this.

To kill a woman who was living a secluded life in some rural village. A woman living in a normal house, just trying to make a living. Fria sighed and sat down on a chair and laid her head on the table.

Fria sat there for a while and just felt depressed. She only moved when she heard a sound from the kitchen. She warily got up, and slowly approached whatever it was. She slowly peered over the kitchen table, and saw a young boy.

Not just any young boy. It was the boy that ran away earlier. Adrian. He was curled up in a ball and quietly crying.

"Leave me alone."

His voice was hoarse but soft. He looked up and glared at the Inquisitor with defiance.

"You— you’re a murderer."

Fria almost wanted to snap back at the boy, but stopped herself. He was a child, and she was an adult. Getting angry would not achieve anything. So she looked back at him, and spoke as kindly as she could.

"Why am I a murderer?"

"What do you mean— you killed Melas’ mother!"

The young woman nodded thoughtfully. She met his glare with cool eyes. "By Melas’ mother, do you mean the Fiend?"

"She is not the Fiend! I don’t even know who that is! She— she’s Ms Aria, and she’s a kind woman who saved my life. She never did anything wrong. You killed her, and now Melas is gone too..."

The boy choked on his words. He buried his face on his hands as tears streamed down his cheeks. Fria just stared at him.

"So, is killing wrong?"

"Of course it is!"

Adrian snapped back. He was furious, but Fria did not back down. She continued, and spoke slowly this time.

"Well, the Fi— this Ms Aria killed my friends. Does that make her a murderer too?"

Her voice was quiet. Solemn. But Adrian just looked up and glared. "You attacked her first!"

Fria nodded her head, and continued.

"Not just them. She was a part of the Shadow Evangelium. They were the cause of millions of deaths. And this Ms Aria herself was responsible for at least tens of thousands."

Yes, that was what Fria almost forgot. The Fiend got her name for her ruthlessness. Her cruelty. Not just in battle, not just against soldiers, but against civilians too. The Fiend took part in the Xantioch massacre, where an entire city was burned down to the ground and all its citizens killed.

Fria’s friends were not the first one to be killed by the Fiend. But they were the last. And that— even if it pained her to admit it— was a good thing. Fria met Adrian’s gaze, and the boy looked incredulous.

"...you’re lying."

Fria shook her head and shrugged.

"You don’t have to believe me. But these are the things we learned in the academy. Not just in the Holy Xan Empire, but here in the Rem Republic, the Puer Kingdom, even the Free Cities teach it. It’s in all the history books, you know?"

Fria looked down at Adrian, and the boy’s eyes were wide in disbelief. He looked like he wanted to say something, but he was struggling. So Fria just continued.

"You say she wasn’t wrong for killing my friends because we attacked her first. But we attacked her because she’s killed so many people. Because she was a danger, even if she wasn’t doing anything bad at that moment. So are we— am I really the bad guy here? Do you still think I’m evil?"

The Inquisitor looked at the boy expectantly. But Adrian could not meet her gaze. He looked away and spoke hesitantly.

"...yes."

The young woman looked at the boy, and sighed.

"Then I guess I’m evil then. But you can’t just claim someone is evil without knowing anything at all. So come with us to Xanderia, and you can learn anything you want. Maybe you will even learn to become strong enough to do something about it." The young woman half turned and shrugged. "Or just stay here and do nothing. Remain in this tiny village and remain ignorant and helpless to all the injustices of this world. It’s your choice."

The young boy looked up at Fria, and they locked eyes for a moment. Just a moment. Then the Inquisitor walked away, leaving Adrian by himself.

It was morning when Saint Theron and Fria were about to leave Villamcreek two days later. Even though they killed the village’s Herbalist. Even though they destroyed a few homes. The villagers all gathered to bid farewell to their visitors.

Because they were from the Church. An Inquisitor and an actual Saint. This might be the only time they ever got to meet an Inquisitor, let alone a Saint. Plus their Herbalist was actually evil, and they got quite a lot of gold from them. So when these prominent and rich visitors were about to leave, the entire village gathered to say goodbye.

The entire village, except for one boy.

The red haired woman sighed as she scanned the sea of faces and did not see Adrian. She saw his parents approach. But no brown haired child.

And Fria thought what she said actually got to him. It was too bad.

She turned to the approaching couple and smiled as Saint Theron started speaking with them.

"Has Adrian changed his mind?"

"No— not yet. We tried to find him again this morning, but he still hasn’t returned home. We don’t know where he is… could you please just wait a little longer?"

Saint Theron shook his head apologetically, and even Fria had to agree. She glanced at the horses, packed with equipment and ready to go. There were seven of them, and only two riders. The two horses being used had to be tied to the other five, which would dramatically slow down travelling speed.

It would take at least half a week to even get to the nearest city with a train station. And then they had to switch trains to reach a dock city, and then take a flying ship to—

Fria shook her head at the thought. It would take around a month and a half before they returned to their continent of Soli. They could not waste too much time in this village. They were just about to leave when someone pushed through the crowd of villagers.

"Wait!" Walden shouted as he waded his way through the small crowd.

Everyone stared at him as he finally pushed his way out of the crowd. He was followed by a young boy. Adrian. His parents rushed forward to meet him.

"Adrian, sweetie, are you ok? We were worried—"

"Where were you Adrian?! You didn’t come home for two—"

Walden cut them off and pointed at the boy.

"Adrian has something important he wants to say."

Adrian looked up at the middle aged man, and nodded his head. Adrian then turned to his parents.

"Mom. Dad. I’m sorry for worrying you. But I needed some time by myself to think. I know you guys care a lot for me, and you only want what is best for me. That is why I decided… I will be going to Xanderia."

The young boy’s parents blinked and looked at each other for a moment.

Natalie then turned back to her son, smiled, and hugged him. "Then go, Adrian. We love you so much. You worried us, you know? So don’t make us worry and write to us."

"I’m sorry for being mad at you, Adrian. Be good, ok? We love you, you know." Benedict placed a hand on his son's head, and gently kissed him in the forehead.

The young boy nodded, and began exchanging heartfelt goodbyes with others in the village. Fria looked at Walden, and he shrugged.

"I didn’t do anything. He was already like this when I found him."

Finally, after saying his goodbyes with everyone in the village and his parents, again. Adrian walked up to Fria and the Saint. Theron looked like he was about to say something to the boy, but Adrian just ignored him.

Adrian walked straight up to Fria, but never once looked her in the eyes. The young woman offered a hand to the boy, and he took it and saddled up behind her. Theron looked at Fria, and she just shrugged.

"Let’s go."

The Saint nodded, and they left. The horses trotted away from the village, and Adrian turned and waved until Villamcreek vanished from sight. Fria remained quiet the entire time, and only after an hour did Adrian speak.

"I still think you guys are evil."

His voice was soft, almost a whisper. It was meant only for Fria. And only Fria heard it. Theron did not even turn his head. Fria simply nodded.

"Then be good. Become strong and be the good that this world so desperately needs. Learn about the evils of this world, and become strong enough to do something about it."

"Shut up! I already know that." Adrian snapped back at her. "You don’t have to tell me what to do, I already figured it out myself."

Fria snorted.

"Ok, genius."

And she was only being half sarcastic when she said that

Part Two: Escape

Escape

Chapter 11: Free Lands

It was a beautiful day. The glittering rays of the sun shone lightly on my face as the gentle rocking of the wagon woke me up. My vision cleared as I blinked a few times and stared out in between the drapes, catching a glimpse of the verdant green landscape spreading out into the distance.

A voice broke my stupor, as I rubbed at my eyes.

"Hey, you."

A man who looked to be around his late forties spoke out. He had brown hair and blue eyes, a five o’clock shadow covering his chin. He smiled gently at me and continued.

"You’re finally awake. We were—"

I inhaled deeply, and just barely stopped myself from shouting. So instead, I screamed internally. Oh my God, am I in Skyrim now? Is that what this is?! You’ve GOT to be kidding me!

I sighed and looked down, catching a glimpse of silver. I stared at the piece of metal that was on my hands and feet, and really really really hoped I wasn’t in Skyrim. A pair of manacles shackled my hands and bound my feet; it stretched down a row of feet, binding me with the dozen other people in the wagon.

"Wha…?" I breathed the word, confused at what was going on.

I looked up and finally took in what the people riding with me looked like. Everyone— including the man that I was still ignoring— were dressed in ragged garbs, covered in grime and dirt. Finally, I stopped zoning out and turned to the still speaking man.

"So we just crossed the border—"

"What’s going on?" I brusquely interrupted him. "Why are we chained up?"

"Slaves. We are being sold as slaves."

…

Why? Why?! WHY?!! I’m being sold as a SLAVE?! But— what— why?!

How did I become a slave? I really did not know. I do not even remember how I got here. Last thing I remembered was… my mom.

My heart sank as I remembered what happened before I blacked out. My mother was killed. The Inquisitors— the Holy Xan Empire— they killed her.

They found us, and they killed my mom. The only person in this world I even cared about was dead. Dead because a bunch of religious extremists hunted her down like unjustly. Like she was a Witch.

But she was not a witch. This world did not even have the word ‘Witch’ in it. But they killed her because she practiced magic. Because that was heresy.

And my mom was dead. Gone forever. I didn't even say goodbye. I couldn’t. I just ran and left her.

I loved her. I loved my mother more than anything else in this world. It was not even my world, but I loved her. Yet, I left her to die.

Now, somehow, as if the world was punishing me for it, I was being sold as a slave; perhaps I deserved this. Or maybe I should have been angry about it. Furious. But I only felt empty.

I felt nothing.

Not the hand resting gently on my shoulder. Not the tears streaming down my face. There was nothing.

I did not know how much time passed. Whether I sat there and cried for an hour, a day, or a minute. But eventually, someone picked me up.

It was the same man from earlier. He helped carry me out of the wagon, and brought me outside. People filed out of the wagon after him, as someone barked out orders. I looked around and saw dozens of wagons just like ours, all stopped on a grassy field just off the side of the road.

People streamed out of the wagons. People just like us, chained and dressed in ragged clothing. A small group of slaves hurried about unloading the other wagons, but most of us were gathered in a circle, surrounded by slavers dressed in rough leather armor. Mercenaries? Or maybe just guards, as they carried some crude weapons on their sides; only a quarter of them even had guns, the rest carrying daggers or swords as if they were a ragtag group of bandits.

One slaver, however, stood out amongst the rest. He was dressed in a nice business-suit, completed with a top hat and a tail coat. He looked to be around his 60’s, with a gray beard and a cane to help with his slight hunch. The elderly man was talking to another, much younger, slaver.

This younger man looked to be half the old man’s age, and was dressed just like the other slavers in that he had some leather-looking armor. But unlike the others, his armor had some mana crystals engraved on it, giving him an extra protection they did not have. He was also armed with a scimitar sheathed on his left, and a flintlock pistol holstered on his right.

After a brief conversation, the two men broke off. The older man turned and walked to a fancy-looking tent being set up by some slaves, while the younger man turned to address us.

"First of all, I would like to extend my congratulations to all of you. It was a long and tough journey, but we have finally made it. And now, as of today, all of you here are officially products of the Mancis Company."

The man raised his hands to his side and waited. He innocently looked around at the quiet murmuring of voices, and shook his head. "Well? Come on now, where is the applause?"

This time, the man got a rise out of the crowd. A young man stepped out and shouted at the slaver. "I am a citizen of the Rem Republic! You guys— you can’t do this! This is against the law! Let us go!"

Several voices of agreements echoed throughout the shackled crowd. The slaver stared into the young man’s eyes and gasped. He hurriedly walked up to the man and spoke apologetically.

"My dear good Sir, I am so sorry about this. If I had known— look, I’ll uncuff you right now."

The slaver got right up to the young man and reached for his belt. Then with one fluid motion, he whipped out his pistol and smashed the butt of the gun across the man’s face. There was a shout as the pistol came into contact with the young man; it was followed by a soft thud as he collapsed on the ground, clasping his jaw and groaning in pain.

The slaver looked down on the collapsed man bleeding from his mouth and cowering at the slaver’s feet with disinterest at first. Then a savage grin spread across the slaver’s face after a moment. "I knew there was at least one idiot who would say that."

The slaver turned away from the cowering man, and gazed at the crowd of terrified faces.

"Listen up! I do not care where any of you are from, or how you got here. All you need to know is that you’re now in the territory of the Free Cities, and the merchandise of my boss. We’re no longer in Rem, or Ferum, or wherever we collected you from. You belong to us now, so if you try to escape we are legally allowed to kill you. The sooner you learn to accept your new life, the easier life is going to be for you from now."

The man paused for a second, letting his words sink in. And once he was sure everyone heard him, he spoke mockingly.

"Well, as easy as it can get for slaves."

With that, the man turned and walked away.

After the man left, slavers came up and approached the more physically fit slaves, separating them from their groups and sending them off on various tasks. I barely paid attention to any of this; my mind was still a haze that could only focus on one thing— my mom was dead.

"So that’s why we’ve been traveling non-stop for the past few days. If they got caught smuggling slaves in Rem where slavery is illegal, they’d have been executed on the spot. But now that we’re in the Free Lands, they can move freely."

The voice came from the man that was carrying me. I only registered what he said because of those words. Free Lands? Where have I…

And suddenly, I remembered. My mom told me about the Free Lands: it was the territory of the Free Cities, one of the major powers on this continent.

They were a collection of independent city states numbering in the tens of thousands found across a vast swath of land in the heart of the continent. None of the cities alone could stand up to any of the more powerful countries, but together, they could even rival the Holy Xan Empire— at least, while fighting a defensive battle in Vitae. The only reason why they were not a bigger power was because they were always caught up in their own petty squabbles against one other.

When my mom told me this, I remembered thinking that they were just like the Ancient Greeks back in my world. That was until she told me more about them.

These Free Cities were not seen as a hub of culture, ethics, and progress, like the Ancient Greeks were back on Earth. In fact, the rest of the world views them as a backwards society that was reviled for one reason and one reason only: slavery.

The Free Cities was the biggest power in the world to still carry out such primitive practices. Most countries in this world had outlawed slavery as something that was inhumane— against even the Church’s doctrine. My mom told me that it was because all people belong only to the Goddess, so one man could not belong to another man. And yet, the Free Cities still did it.

This became a source of conflict between the Free Cities and all of its neighbours that had long since barred slavery, but everytime they were invaded the Free Cities would band together and fight the invaders back. Even the Holy Xan Empire once tried to invade the Free Cities over this, but because of the logistics required to fight in another continent, the world’s sole superpower lost the war. I remembered my mom calling it the Free War: named after the lands it was fought in and the Holy Xan Empire’s goal to free the slaves.

When I pointed out to my mother how ironic it was that a place literally called the Free Lands was invaded to free slaves, she laughed. She told me that that was the point of the name of the war— a spite against the Free Cities. I remembered that laugh. So gentle. So loving. And now, she was gone.

I gazed around at the camp being set up by the slaves for their captors. At the cages and crates being brought out of the wagons. At the sea of faces, all terrified, all uncomprehending of their situation. None of this mattered to me.

So what if I was a slave? So what if I was tortured or even raped? So what if I was killed? My mother was dead. I don’t care anymore. I hated all of this. I never wanted to come to this world. I might as well just curl up and die—

But would she want that?

The thought crossed my mind as my vision went blurry. I knew my mom wouldn’t want me to die. My mom fought to save me— she died so that I could live. But what reason would I have to live without her? She was my anchor to this world, and she was taken away from me. And how would she even know whether I lived or died right this instant? Was there really an afterlife where my mother could watch over me even in death?

My mind flashed. A memory of a man with blonde hair and blue eyes. A chance given in death; it was not the end.

I had no idea who he was. He might have been a god, and the fact that I had been dead confirmed that there was some sort of afterlife. And...

I grit my teeth. Was he the ‘He’ those three strangers spoke of? But if he was a god, then did the goddess of light even exist? Did my mom’s soul find her way to either of them or—

I never got to finish the thought. Someone was pulling my hair and it hurt. I was lifted off the shoulders of the man carrying me, and was being held up by my hair.

I looked up to see who was doing this to me and saw the slaver from earlier. He looked furious, and his fiery red hair only added to the effect. "Finally stopped ignoring me, huh? Of course it takes a little bit of pain to discipline little kids," he said, voice hiding no hostility as he tightened his grip for a moment. Then the slaver let go of my hair and let me drop to the ground. I fell face first as the kindly man who had carried me earlier scrambled over to check if I was alright.

"Please sir, she’s just a child! She doesn’t understand what’s going on!" he protested.

The slaver whirled and kicked the man on the face. He pointed down at the fallen man and shouted.

"Sir?! Call me that again and I’ll have you killed!" He turned and faced the crowd of helpless slaves. "We are your masters, and you shall call us that or be punished!"

The red haired slaver looked back down at the downed man, and stepped on his back.

"And never talk back to me again. Only speak when spoken to. Is that understood, slave?"

"Y-yes, master."

"Good," the slaver said, satisfied. Then he kicked the man one more time, before roughly grabbing me by the arm. "As for you, little girl, you’re coming with me."

The man brought me to the fancy looking tent I saw earlier, and called in. "Hey Julian, I’ve got her."

"Come in," an older voice called out.

He brought me into the tent and looked around. The tent was large and lit by a fireplace, with a metallic rod sticking out of the fire. Julian, the fancily dressed man from earlier, was sitting on a desk with a bunch of paper strewn about. He looked up and regarded the slaver who brought me in. "Good work, Marcus."

Marcus— the red haired slaver— grunted in affirmation and stepped back. Then, the old man got up from his desk and walked over to me; he slowly circled me as if he were inspecting a piece of diamond for any flaws in its cut "Hm, yes. Very good. Very good indeed," he muttered under his breath.

While he was doing this, I stayed quiet. At one point, he grabbed my hair and mumbled a question about whether it was real. Eventually, Julian seemed to reach a conclusion and sat back on his chair, satisfied. The old slaver looked me over and finally spoke to me— or was he speaking at me?

"You know, it’s not often I find a quality product like you lying on the side of the road, just ready for the taking. And right as we were about to leave Rem too. It was almost like you were given to me directly by the Goddess Herself!"

Julian chuckled, as if he made some kind of funny joke, before turning to the younger slaver.

"It is just as you said; raven black hair and silver eyes; a young and healthy body; all truly exquisite qualities a superior product should possess."

"Of course. I just didn’t want to show her to you until she was awake and moving, so you would be able to properly ascertain the quality of the product."

"Very good. That will surely drive up the base price by at least 20%. There is a market for little boys, but girls tend to be more popular amongst the more… wealthy. And her hair! I’ve heard of some nobles in Xanderia having such dark colored hair. Maybe she has some Elven blood in her? Whatever the case is, this is my first time seeing it." The old man stroked his finely kept beard, grinning. "Yes, we will definitely have to hold a private auction for you."

The younger slaver perked up at that.

"I trust I will be getting a percentage from this sale? I was the one that spotted her lying on the side of the road, after all."

"Of course you will, Marcus. But that’s something to be discussed later. And as for you." Julian turned to face me and smiled. It was not a gentle smile one would direct to a child. It looked more like the smile of a business man who found a new venture: a smile full of greed.

I felt my neck tingle just from looking at those avaricious eyes. Whether it was out of fear, courage, or something else, I finally broke my silence.

"What will you do to me?"

My voice came out as a whisper. Barely audible over the sound of the fireplace crackling in the background, casting haunted shadows over the otherwise pure white tent. The old man— the owner of this slaving company— waved his hand placatingly at me. He spoke reassuringly.

"There’s no need to worry. We’ll find you a good and rich owner to take care of you. Until then, we’ll ensure that nothing bad happens to you, of course. Wouldn’t want to sell a defective product after all."

"Sell me to whom? What are you selling me for?"

I did not know how I got the strength to speak, but I did. I spoke louder, with more energy behind my voice. But it wasn’t a shout. In fact I probably was talking in a normal speaking voice now.

"Child lovers." Julian replied without missing a beat. He met my gaze without hesitation, and spoke casually. "While I personally would never participate in such acts— I prefer the comfort of proper adult women— it is quite a profitable market that I can’t miss out on."

I felt my stomach drop. My legs shook, and I collapsed onto my knees. Of course it’s legal. My mother never mentioned it, but she never would have told me even if I asked. I should have known.

In fact, deep inside of me, I probably knew all along. But it was different from being told— from having it actually happen to me. I looked at the two slavers in the room, and I wished all of this was a dream.

I wished that I was back in Villamcreek, with my mother, just idly passing by our days. Safe. Happy. Or that I was back on Earth, with my family and friends. But I was not. I looked back up and saw the old man get up from his seat. Julian walked over to the fireplace as he calmly tried to assure me.

"There’s no need to worry. As I said, my people will not do anything to you. These buyers would prefer to have their product… untouched." The old man shook his head. He then reached for something in the fireplace and continued. "Of course, to do that, we would have to ensure that people know not to touch you."

I stared at the old man uncomprehendingly as he nodded to the younger slaver. Marcus grabbed me from behind and held me down as Julian pulled out something from the fire.

It was a long, thin, metal rod. On one of its ends was a circular shape, not made of metal, but glowing red. The man spoke nonchalantly as he picked it up and approached me.

"This would also let people know where you came from. That such quality product can only be bought from the Mancis Company. Now hold still, it’s only going to take a minute."

I looked up in horror as I realized what he was doing. I tried to struggle, tried to escape, but the red haired slaver was strong. Stronger than any man I had ever met back on Earth; he held me down as I tried to move. But I could not. I was completely helpless. I had no say in this situation, just like I never had any say in coming to this world.

I looked up and stared at the burning piece of mana crystal. It formed a symbol. A stylized letter M inside of a circle, with chains being unfurled behind its back, like a woman spreading a veil during a dance. But I saw past the logo— into the searing hot mana crystal blazing red. And I saw blood.

A young woman dying, her blood pooling on the road beneath her. Then of a little girl, fighting to protect her friend, and losing her arm in the process. The memory of three strangers, and a broken child in the forest.

But most of all, I remembered my mom, dying, falling to the ground with a hole in her chest. She was protecting me, even in death. I was powerless— helpless to stop it. And it was all because of him.

It was because of him I died. It was because of him I lived. And it was because of him my mother was dead.

Everything. Even the situation I was in now, was all because of that fake god. So as I stared into the symbol about to be pressed onto my face, all I saw was red.

And as the symbol was burned onto me, I screamed. It was a scream of pain and suffering. A scream of anger and hatred. And a scream for revenge.

It was the only thing I could cling on to; the drive to fill the void in my very soul. I had lost my reason to live, and now I found a new one.

To make the Church pay. To make these slavers pay. To make god pay.

That was why I had to live.

Chapter 12: Slave

"Here you go," a voice said.

I looked up and met a pair of blue eyes staring at me. A middle aged man with brown hair was holding a bowl of slops out to me. I gratefully accepted the food— little as it was— and nodded my head to him.

"Thank you."

We briefly made eye contact before he averted his gaze. He sat down next to me, and we began to eat our meal; I did not say much, though he did not say anything either. Although he did keep passing glances at my face, which made me slightly uncomfortable.

I knew he was not being rude. I knew he had no ulterior motives for sneaking peeks at me. His name was Theodore, and he was the one who helped look after me since I first awoke. Yet, everytime he looked at me, I got a reminder. A reminder of...

I looked down at my bowl of soup and stared. A little disheveled girl looked right back up at me. She had silver eyes and black hair, which was quite unusual for a Human in this world. But I paid that little mind. It was the symbol on my face that disturbed me; the black letter M surrounded by a circle with chains spread from its back. It marked my face, next to my left eye. A logo showing that I was a product of the Mancis Company to all who saw me.

Staring at my reflection, I felt… anger. It burned deep inside me, and it was almost like I could see the fire in my eyes. My desire for revenge.

But along with that fury came the memory of how I got it. The pain of all the wrong that had been done to me as I was permanently scarred. As I recalled that, I… cringed.

It hurt so much! Why couldn’t they just have given me a tattoo?! Just use ink! It’s much cheaper than using some special mana tool to do it!

I sighed. For all I try to make light of it as a coping mechanism, it did hurt a lot. Not just internally, but externally; my physical body was scarred and burned for at least a minute straight.

And unlike the other times I got dismembered, burned, or had all the bones in my body broken, I wasn’t numbed by adrenaline when this happened. It was neither a high stakes situation where hormones numbed the pain, nor was I anywhere near close enough to death for my body and mind to ignore the pain.

And the memory was not a blur sitting in the back of my head like all my near death experiences. It was fresh in my head, every detail clear as day to me. And it hurt. A lot.

I slowly put the bowl down, the soup— or sludge— lapping gently within the wooden container. I turned to Theodore— the kindly man who had been looking after me ever since I woke up— and spoke softly.

"Thank you."

The brown haired man paused mid bite, and turned to face me. He met my gaze for a second before flinching; after taking a second to regain his composure, he replied

"There’s nothing to thank me for. A child like you shouldn’t be in this situation in the first place."

Of course, this situation…

We were slaves, being trafficked illegally into the Free Lands. Groups of men and some women were chained together by the dozens, kept in a small area at the center of the camp, as the slavers went about their work. They fed us, of course; but it was clear they gave us whatever scrap or morsel they could gather, since most of us sat around doing nothing for the whole day.

Some men, like Theodore, were picked out to do manual labor. They were only chained by their feet, and allowed some level of free roam within the camp, while everyone else was bound to one another. Well, everyone except for me. I had freedom of movement too, if for different reasons from the middle aged man.

It had been two weeks since I was branded by the Mancis Company. We spent most of the first week staying in that first encampment, as the slavers forged whatever documents were necessary to sell us as slaves; enslaving people from other countries was supposed to be illegal, after all.

Since we started traveling again, we had a pretty basic daily routine: wake up and get on the wagons; wait and ride until the sun sets; stop and set up camp; eat dinner and go to sleep.

Oh and there were the occasional beatings too; totally not something worth mentioning. It was just slavers doing slaver things— it’s to be expected of course!

I sighed and turned my attention back to Theodore.

"No one should be in this situation in the first place," I said.

Unlike him and the others, I had been treated relatively well because of my status as a ‘premium product’. They had been rough with me, but I did not get any beatings. Which was not a good thing, by the way. Being treated less badly than others did not make it any better; it just made things marginally less bad. And this entire situation sucks.

Theodore seemed to agree with me. "Yes," he said, nodding, before glancing thoughtfully up at the night sky. "I only wish it didn’t have to happen to you."

He looked dejected. As if me being in this situation was somehow worse than him being a slave. I shook my head and smiled softly.

"There’s no need to worry so much about me, Mr Theodore." I rested a hand on the man’s shoulder. "I’ll be fine," I said reassuringly.

It was not a lie; I would be fine, for there was something driving me now. A reason for me to live, after my mom was gone. And it was a simple, perhaps foolish, one.

Revenge.

But I had nothing else to cling on to. This was all I had left. One of the three strangers— possible followers of that jerk god— told me to ‘embrace death’. That I should just roll over and die. If that was his plan for me, then I was going to spit in his face and live, holding onto whatever I possibly could.

Theodore however, did not know the reasoning behind my words, so he misinterpreted it as a form of childlike optimism. "I see…" he trailed off. The middle aged man shook his head, now staring ahead at nothing but darkness. "Maybe you’re right. Perhaps this is all happening for a reason, and there’s no need to worry. Perhaps… the Goddess has a plan for us. A reason for everything that has happened."

I drew my lips to a thin line, but did not respond. How could I? I did not believe in this goddess. I never did, even if my mom seemed convinced she was real.

"May the Goddess illuminate our lives," Theodore uttered quietly to himself.

My ears perked up, hearing the common phrase. The expression used throughout the world by all who believed in the ‘Goddess of Light’. It had various uses, but it was typically said during a prayer or when in agreement with someone else. So trying not to seem like some sort of heathen, I hurriedly repeated the words to him.

Unfortunately however, I struggled to say it without grimacing. The fact that I had never said those words out loud before did not help, and I ended up biting my tongue mid sentence, messing it up.

"Uh, yeah! May the Goddess il— ruminate our lives…"

Theodore seemed to smile at that, as I brought a hand to cover my face in embarrassment.

Oh my God, I can’t believe I did that. The fact that I was a kid did not make me feel better about it, and only embarrassed me further.

But to be honest, I was glad I made that flub. I did not care for the goddess, nor did I believe she was a force of ‘good’. If she was, she never would have let my mom die in the first place. For all it mattered to me, the goddess could have been the same as that jerk god.

If I was going to get through this, I was going to do it with my own abilities.

Days and weeks passed as our caravan continued further into the Free Lands. And while we stopped by a few towns and small cities, it almost seemed as if the slavers were going out of their way to avoid most settlements— only passing through those that were necessary.

It probably had something to do with the legality of bringing in slaves from outside of the Free Lands; the Mancis Company did not have enough contacts in whatever region this was to safely carry out any transactions. This ended up being a good thing for me, since we spent a lot more time on the road, sleeping in the wagons rather than in an enclosed room with guards watching over us. It allowed me to practice my magic.

It was not… any kind of grand spell I was working with. I only knew one spell, and that was the simple levitation spell I used to grab the healing potion from the Inquisitors. It was not too difficult for me to recast that spell despite only having done it once; the feeling was odd— surprisingly different from using a mana tool— but the foundations were still the same.

All I had to do was reach out into the mana in the surroundings, rather than in a mana crystal. It was more complex, since mana crystals tended to be made to accomplish a specific task like creating fire, while this seemed abstract— I had to figure out what I wanted the mana to do instead. I knew I could do a lot more, but I decided against experimentation. It was far too dangerous and if I were caught, it would also lead me down an even worse fate than being a branded slave. So I practiced in secret, and I practiced at night.

I stayed up until I was certain everyone else was asleep, and hiding underneath my thin blanket, I would cast the same simple spell every single night. The light from the magic circle was not the brightest, so I could at least hide it from waking up the others. However, I was not sure what I could do with it; it only gave me an invisible third hand to work with, yet it also had a reach of about a hundred feet. Perhaps with it, I could steal a key?

I had no plan as of yet, but I had to act soon. While pranking guards and slavers by dropping rocks on them was fun, it was just not enough. All it did was help me get used to navigating this ‘Mage Hand’ (this was a tentative working term, since the word ‘mage’ did not even exist in this world and I had no idea what the spell was actually called) by feeling my way through the air. Beyond that, it was insubstantial.

I wanted more time to think. More time to figure out how magic worked. But I did not have time.

I glanced out of the wagon, staring past the mana powered car the owner of the Mancis Company, Julian, rode in. It looked rather primitive— almost like an antique from my world— with drapes instead of windows at the sides, however it was still a car. A car without a gas engine, but a large mana crystal at its front end instead.

Still, I looked past it, not wondering how such a machine worked. Instead I took in the view of the city in the distance. The large sprawling metropolis surrounded by tall 40 foot walls made of brick and limestone, with 50 foot watchtowers interspaced every several hundred feet. And behind these walls, thousands of buildings of different shapes and sizes filled the city to the brim.

It was like a balloon that was about to burst! The walls looked like it could barely contain it all; and in a sense, it could not, as farmlands and smaller buildings spilled out of the walls and into the flatland surrounding the city.

But at the heart of the city, dwarfing over it all, stood a grand structure. A large building, standing on elevated ground, reaching high up into the sky. And at the top of it all, a single golden dome adorned with gems of all colors stood, glittering, shining, as if it were a second sun.

I did not recognize this city, but apparently, it had to have been well known because Theodore looked over my shoulder, breath caught in his throat.

"Boleria, the Free City of Trade," he gasped.

I turned to him, raising an eyebrow. "You’ve been here before?" I asked.

"No," Theodore said, "but it is one of the largest cities in the Free Lands, because of its strategic location at the mouth of the region of Besha. It is one of the biggest hubs for trade in all of Vitae."

"That includes the selling of slaves, doesn’t it?"

The middle aged man hesitated. I read the expression on his face, and I knew the answer even without him saying it.

"Yes, and this is where our first auction will be held."

Chapter 13: Hunger

"Hey, did you hear?"

"Hear what?"

"There have been quite a few monster attacks around Besha these past few weeks. Cities and towns have been getting harassed constantly."

"Really? Even Bys?"

"Nah, not in Bys. Even monsters know to stay away from such a large city. Smaller cities and towns have been getting into quite a few incursions with monsters, though. And I’m talking about dozens to hundreds of monsters at a time!"

"Oh man, and we’ve just reached Besha too. Talk about bad luck."

"Yeah. Hopefully we can reach Bys without any run-ins with monsters. A group our size should usually be enough to deter any monster attacks."

"Usually."

"Hey, look on the bright side. Once we’re in Bys, we’ll not only get paid, but we will be safe from any monster attacks."

"Goddess grace us! Why did you have to say it like that?!"

"Like what? I was just saying that we’ll be safe in Bys!"

"That’s the problem! You better not have cursed us. If we don’t make it to Bys, it’ll be your fault!"

"Hey, I didn’t—"

I sighed. I hope that happens and a Monster eats you and all you other jerks.

The thought of eating made my stomach rumble, and I sighed again. I was hungry— they had not fed us yet today. It had been a hectic, busy day for them, which meant no food for us. I want to eat!

I glanced away from the two slavers talking to each other and tuned them out; they were not talking about anything I did not already know. It was the talk of the town, or… city.

We were in the Free City of Boleria currently, a well known trading hub that served as the gateway to Besha— one of the ten regions that divide the Free Lands both geographically and culturally. And the culture that distinguished Besha from the rest of the Free Lands was how ubiquitous slavery was here.

It was pervasive. Even in Boleria— which was a border city that supposedly was better than the rest of Besha because of its stricter slave laws— there was at least one slave in every two dozen people we passed; it might not seem like a large number at first, but it meant almost five percent of the population were slaves. And that was a lot considering a city this size probably had half a million people in it.

I did not carry out a census, and these were just estimates based on my assumptions, but I was pretty sure I was close to the truth, which made me shudder thinking about what the rest of Besha could possibly have been like. Boleria only allowed the trade of adult men as slaves, which already drastically reduced the number of potential slaves, but it still had— if my numbers were right— 25,000 slaves. It was terrible. This city was terrible.

Which was why I was glad to hear all the rumors going around of Monsters attacking and destroying towns throughout Besha; Boleria itself had to repel small Monster hordes in recent weeks, which made me hope that somehow our caravan might get attacked while traveling, and we could escape in the chaos. It was a fool’s hope, since a Monster would not discriminate between slave and slaver, but it would have provided an opportunity anyways, and I was willing to take whatever I could get.

The sound of the hammer striking wood reverberated through the room, breaking me out of my wishful thoughts.

"—and sold for 29 gold and 5 silver! You may collect him and make your payment in the back room."

The curtains fluttered open for a moment, as the guards brought a young man— one of the slaves— back to the room I was in; I looked out past the curtains, and caught a glimpse of the auditorium once again.

It was a huge space, filled with hundreds of seats, all of them occupied. The audience nearly completely encircled the small stage with the podium on it, and a grand chandelier hung from hundreds of feet overhead, illuminating the room.

We were in the building at the heart of Boleria. It was called the Grand Market, for it was where most of the trading took place within the city. And it was the dome that hung over our heads now.

The enormous dome I saw— made of gold and decorated with gems— actually housed this public hall, filled to the brim with people. This structure, that was built as a grandiose display of wealth and affluence, was actually a place to sell slaves. An auction hall.

The curtain flickered open again, and a fancily dressed couple walked in. I turned away, as they made their payment and settled their business. And five minutes later, they, along with the young man from earlier, were gone.

It must have been around evening when this public auction started. This was the only place slaves were allowed to be sold in the city— one of the regulations Boleria had in regards to the trading of slaves. We had only arrived in the city in the afternoon, and now, six hours later in the evening, hundreds of rich people gathered here to buy a slave. So much for being one of the ‘better’ cities, huh?

The Bolerian officials that helped set up the auction did not even comment on the fact that myself and a few dozen young women were part of the Mancis Company’s inventory— the most I got was a look of sympathy from a brown haired woman working here. The trading of women or kids as slaves was not allowed, but the transportation of them was— as long as the company paid a higher fee. And thus, the auction continued without any issue.

The next sale took ten minutes to finish. And the one after that took thirteen. Then the next, and the next, until finally, it was the last one for today. But the final sale was much quicker than the ones before it, taking less than a minute before someone bid 40 gold coins. That was the largest purchase anyone made so far.

So when the man who made the purchase came in, naturally, everyone treated him like a king. And he dressed and acted like one too.

He came in with a dozen servants and bodyguards following after him. Everyone I had seen so far had been wearing a suit if it was a guy, or a gown if it was a girl. But this man was dressed in robes. He wore a red cloak around his back, and a purple regalia with gold trimmings underneath it.

He did not have a crown, but he was decorated in jewelry from head to toe. He had a different ring for every finger, and even one in his right ear. He wore three different necklaces around his neck, and had two bracelets on each hand. He dressed like trouble, and he acted like one too.

The first thing the young blonde did was walk up to the slave he just bought. He took one glance at the slave, and waved dismissively at him.

"Worthless," the man loudly announced to the room. Staff from the Mancis Company and the Grand Market immediately began asking him questions, but he ignored them.

His bodyguards kept them back as he cast his gaze around the room, and stopped at the women chained to a corner; he walked up to a green haired woman and pointed at her. "Her. I’ll give you 50 gold for that woman."

It was at this point, Marcus decided to act. The head guard for the Mancis Company stepped between his merchandise and the man. "These women are not for sale."

"Why not?" the man asked, as if it were a surprising thing.

"The sale of female slaves is not permitted in Boleria. If anyone were to find out—"

"Not permitted?" he snorted. The rich man arrogantly gestured to a Bolerian official. "There’s no need to worry about them. I’ll ensure that the staff here remain quiet. Gold is a very convincing tool, after all."

I watched as the small group of Bolerian officials glanced back at each other, uncertain what to do or say at the idea of them being bribed. This man was trouble, but the funny thing about trouble was that oftentimes, trouble brought opportunity as much as it brought hardships. And I saw an opportunity appear on the horizon, peaking over the edge, almost in view.

Marcus visibly hesitated, but he managed to speak. "The Mancis Company only partakes in legal transactions—"

I seized it.

"Legal?" I laughed, loud enough for it to echo throughout the room. The auditorium beyond the curtains was empty now that the auction was over, and the only people left were the ones in here. "That’s a lie. Everyone here— none of us are from the Free Lands! We were kidnapped from Rem, Felan, Elios… this entire company is committing criminal activities!"

I was not sure whether my pleas would be heard by anyone other than the Bolerian officials. I was not even sure if they would act on it. But I had to do something. Julian Mancis, the owner of the company, froze mid step as he came out of an office to see what the commotion was about.

"Is that true?" the rich man asked, cocking his head.

Julian ran forward and waved his hand placatingly. "Of course not! This is just a children’s prank— you know how naughty kids can get? We have all the legal documents—"

"It’s true," a voice interrupted the slaver.

Theodore stepped forward, glancing once at me and nodding his head slightly. I could see desperation in his eyes, and I was not even sure if he thought this ploy would work, but he took the risk just as I did.

"It is as she said. I am from a town in Elios. I was a farmer," he said, showing his calloused hands. "None of us are from the Free Lands. We were tricked or outright stolen from our families. Please, help us go home."

Julian looked like he wanted to say something in protest, but the moment Theodore stood up to defend me, another man spoke. Then another. They were voicing murmurs of agreement; it was nothing quite as loud as me or Theodore.

The Bolerian officials saw this, and they looked… uncomfortable. One of them— the brown haired woman from earlier— stepped up, glancing between us and the slavers. "Mr Mancis, I’m sure you have all the documentation necessary to prove this. However, these allegations are serious, and we’ll have to conduct an investigation if—"

"Terrible," the rich man from earlier cut her off. He walked in front of the Bolerian official, pretending as if she wasn’t even there. "This is… quite the amusing prank, is it not?"

I narrowed my eyes, while the Bolerian officials backed up, unsure of what to do; this man was trying to claim I was lying, and it would be less problematic for them if what he was saying was true. Julian caught on to this, quickly sauntering up to him with a smile.

"Of course, my good Sir. Our premium products"— he gestured at something on my face— "are well trained in entertainment as well as obedience. And now, she will stop with her little act, right?"

Julian Mancis shot me a glare, trying to intimidate me into quieting down. I met his gaze, unafraid. I opened my mouth to speak, but again, the rich man spoke loudly into the room.

"Truly remarkable," he said, smiling. He looked at me with his predatory eyes, licking his lips as he did. "I want her."

"Excuse me?" Julian asked, blinking.

"I want her," the man repeated himself, turning back to the owner of the Mancis Company. "A hundred gold. Or one platinum. That’s all I’ll offer."

"You can’t be serious?" the older man sputtered. "That’s half of the base price we’ve estimated for her. I won’t be surprised if someone is willing to pay double, or even triple that amount!"

"Oh, so she’s telling the truth then?" the rich man said, voice flat. "Because if she is, I find that I’ll be forced to report you and your company’s activities to the appropriate authorities. You and your employees will be forced to pay a rather significant fine, and serve some jail time here in Boleria. We don’t tolerate lawbreakers after all, right?" he asked, turning to the woman from earlier.

The Bolerian official swallowed, and nervously replied. "Uh, yes. But if these—"

"Very good," he once again spoke over her. "And don’t worry about this… transaction, if you choose to accept my offer. I will ensure word does not leave this room. So what say you, Julian Mancis?"

The owner of the Mancis Company grunted. "Do I have a choice? I’ll get the paperwork."

"I knew you would be amenable to a deal. You do that, and I’ll… inspect the goods." The man strutted over to me, the arrogant smile plastered on his face. He reached out towards me, grabbing for my chin. "You know, I can’t wait—"

I did not wait to hear what he had to say. I bit. Hard.

The man screamed; his index finger interlocked between my teeth. I held on, as he tried to back up, pulling me along with him. I knew a single bite— especially from a kid— would not be enough to sever his finger.

So I grabbed onto his wrist, holding onto the man as he flailed around in pain. I opened my mouth, momentarily releasing his finger from my jaw. Then I bit down again. And again. And again. And—

Finally, there was a crunch. I felt something come loose, still in between my canines, as the rich man let out a final guttural scream. The man kicked me, knocking me back a foot, as he panted.

"My...fingers…" The man held up his hand. Blood was pouring down from it, dripping onto the ground. He turned to me and screamed.

I ignored him, smirking triumphantly as I spat out the half of man’s index finger still in my mouth. I stared at it for a second, realizing the blood covering my lip and the ground below me. I felt woozy for a moment, fighting back against the urge to puke.

Then I was struck across the face. The rich man was looming over me. His eyes were bloodshot— his smug grin had twisted into a face of pure anger.

"You… I’ll make you suffer!"

He brought his leg down on me, pinning my head down on the floor. I squirmed on the ground, trying to get up, but he pressed his entire body weight down on me. My cheeks were being squished against the cold stone floor, and all I could see was the terrified looks on all the slaves as they watched.

Theodore seemed like he wanted to come help me, but was stopped by the rich man’s bodyguards. I felt the pressure on me release for just a brief moment— before I found my body limply being kicked aside. I rolled on the floor for a moment, before something went wrong.

My right foot was bent and struck the floor at the wrong angle, twisting violently to the side. I felt a crack. A flash of extreme pain surging through my leg. Before the back of head finally slammed into the wall.

I collapsed to the ground in a daze. I tried to collect myself, but I could not feel anything; my senses were almost muted. I could not hear more than muffled sounds. I could barely make out the argument happening in front of me. Even the extreme pain from my broken ankle was gone.

I blinked a few times, trying to keep myself from falling unconscious. I pulled my head off leaning against the side of the wall. My vision cleared ever so slightly, and I could hear better now. The pain returned, just as I caught the tail end of the conversation between Julian and the rich man.

"—or consider it reimbursement for what she did to me," the rich man said, clutching his finger. His bleeding stopped, having taken a healing potion. However, it was nothing more than a stump— the quality of the potion not high enough to undo amputations. "Regardless, I will have her for free," he finished, voice final.

"That was not part of the deal," the owner of the Mancis Company argued. His face was red with anger, seemingly unhappy that his prized good was being taken away from him. "You said you would pay us a hundred gold coins."

I stared at the rich man. The detestable, cruel, abhorrent creature disguised as a Human being. His eyes flashed as his gaze bore into the older man. He started.

"I am altering the deal—"

Then his head exploded.

I watched in horror as the man’s body dropped lifelessly to the ground, blood and gore spilling from his empty neck. Marcus, the head guard of the Mancis Company, lowered his still-smoking pistol and drew his scimitar, pointing it at the dead man’s bodyguards and servants.

"Kill them all."

Chapter 14: Troublemaker

"Kill them all."

Marcus, the head guard of the Mancis Company, declared to the room. For a moment, everything was stunned silence. The rich man’s body dropped lifelessly to the floor, his head blown apart as if it were a watermelon being blasted by a 12 gauge shotgun.

Then, as if the dull thud from the fallen corpse were some sort of cue, everyone immediately broke into action. I watched as the room erupt into chaos; the bodyguards of the rich man drawing their weapons— mostly guns— while the guards of the Mancis Company grabbed for their swords, daggers, and cudgels.

The guards of the Mancis Company far outnumbered the bodyguards, yet only a select few of them even had a long ranged weapon, let alone a rifle or a pistol. Marcus had what seemed to be a flintlock pistol, but he had holstered it for now, opting to charge with his scimitar into a group of riflers shooting at his men.

There were shouts and screams as people fell all around me; the Bolerian officials huddled themselves in a corner of the room, trying to avoid any of the fighting— perhaps hoping that their status would get them through this mess unscathed. The battle unfolded before me, and a loud bang finally broke me out of my stupor.

I turned to the source of the noise, and saw Marcus had fired another shot of his pistol, blowing a man’s shoulders off; I felt my stomach lurch, watching the bits of gore splatter across a wall, as the man fell into a pool of blood. I tried to look down— avoid the sight of death— but I was faced with the rich man’s dead body lying a few feet in front of me, the gaping hole in his neck turned in my direction.

It had been so sudden; everything happened too quickly. My mind was still trying to register what happened to the rich man. He was deplorable— every sense inside of me told me that he deserved his death. Yet, the brutality of it all still drove me into shock: it was complete and utter chaos.

But, a thought crossed my mind, that’s what you needed, right?

I found myself glancing back up into the impromptu battlefield once again. My body tried to force me back down; my instincts told me to stay low and keep myself as small as possible to avoid getting caught up in the battle. But I pushed my arm off the floor, ignoring both the screams in my head telling me to stop, and the screams of death happening all around me.

The fighting continued in the background, and although blue bolts of energy came flying from both sides, the Mancis Company guards dropped left and right from the larger barrage of gunfire coming from the rich man’s bodyguards; not only did the former have less weaponry, theirs also fired at a much slower rate than the latter.

One of the bodyguards— a man with a rifle— backed up to a corner, as three of the slavers from the Mancis Company surrounded him with swords and a dagger. He fired a shot as they lunged at him— killing one of the slavers— then rolling out of the way of the other two’s attack. The man with the dagger quickly followed after him, deflecting a blue bolt of energy as he did, and then brought his weapon down on the rifler as he got close.

The rifler quickly knocked aside the dagger with the butt of his gun, and pushed the man to the ground. With the quick reprieve, he turned to shoot the other slaver running at him through the chest, then flicked back down at the downed man, and executed him. The rifler sighed in relief, and was rewarded with a bullet to the head from afar.

More scenes like this happened throughout the impromptu battlefield; the rich man’s bodyguards were well-trained fighters with advanced weapons, and as such managed to kill three to four of the slavers at a time, but they were getting overwhelmed.

That did not mean the Mancis Company’s guards were untrained fighters who simply charged to their deaths; they were skilled too, strategically using their numerical advantage to take out their foes, while trying to minimize casualties. Plus, Marcus was on their side.

The head guard of the Mancis Company ran up to one of the bodyguards, deflecting bolts of energy as he did. He blocked one, then two, and three; he was getting closer— three, four— then he reached his opponent, and sliced the gun in half. The man tried to back up, but Marcus was fast— faster than anyone on Earth could have been. He impaled the man with his scimitar, before slicing his sword upwards, cutting the man in half.

Another bodyguard saw this happening, and took his chance. He got on his knees, aiming carefully at the head guard’s face, then squeezing on the trigger. Marcus saw this coming, but it was too late; the bullet was already reaching him by the time he had cleaved through the first man, he was going to die—

Marcus instantly rolled his shoulder, harmlessly deflecting the bullet of his armor. In the same second, before the man could take another shot, Marcus quickly drew his own pistol, and hand still on his hip, blasted the man.

A flash of red energy flew across the room into the man, and exploded on impact, completely obliterating the man’s chest. It was like a mini-rocket launcher built in the shape of a flintlock pistol. The head guard of the Mancis Company re-holstered his pistol, and continued tearing through the remaining bodyguards. He was slaughtering them!

The battle was coming to a close. The hundred guards in the Mancis Company were finishing off the remaining few dozen bodyguards of the dead man. It was a massacre. It was… an opportunity.

The chaotic battle gave me my only chance of escaping; I had to somehow free the other slaves and myself. I picked myself up fully, but fell back to my knees. My right leg was not giving me the support I needed to move. I grimaced, trying once again to stand back up. It was no use— I had to have broken my ankle, or at least, sprained it.

If I had the body of an adult, I might have been able to force myself forward— it was hard, but possible. Yet, the body of a kid was much more fragile, especially when injuries were involved. I could not muster up the strength to stand. I was already too physically weak, and being underfed for the past few weeks did not help with this.

I collapsed to the floor, giving up on walking. And just as that happened, I saw one of the bodyguard’s back up to my corner, fighting off three of the slavers. He was cut down before my eyes, and the Mancis Company guards left, moving on to support their other teammates.

I averted my gaze for a moment, but quickly looked back up; the corpse lay there, dead and bloodied. But there was something there I saw— something the man was carrying before he died. There!

It was a pistol. The bodyguard had dropped his rifle as he died, and while his killers sequestered the large gun, they did not see the small weapon hanging around his hips.

If I could get to the gun, I would be able to free myself by shooting the chains free. I might have also been able to pass it to Theodore and get him to free the other slaves. We would be able to arm ourselves off the weapons on the ground, and overwhelm the slavers through sheer numbers.

The hopeful thought forced me to act. I brought one arm forward, followed by another, pushing my body as I did. My hand splashed on a pool of blood, getting bits of gore on my face, and causing me to cringe. But it did not stop me.

It was so far. Too far. I brought my arm out as I exerted the last of my physical strength. If I can only...just...reach...it.

I was halfway to the weapon when I realized that I could reach it. I pulled my hand back, hiding it underneath my body. My fingers twitched, and a small light shone, hidden away from sight. I felt a third arm sprout from me. An invisible arm that could stretch far beyond where my physical body could.

It was the only spell I knew at the moment, and I cast it easily after weeks of practice; I moved it as easily as I would my regular arm now, and I directed it to the pistol on the corpse’s side. I was glad this basic levitation spell only touched what I wanted it to touch, because I was certain I would be puking if I had to actually rummage through the dead man’s body.

I pried the weapon free of its holster, and to avoid as much attention as possible, I slid it towards me with the spell. It stopped within arms reach for me, as I felt the magic dissipate, the glowing circle disappearing along with it. I picked the gun up, aiming it down at the chains at my hands first. I closed my eyes— praying that it would work— and fired a shot.

I heard a metallic clink. I opened my eyes slowly, and sighed in relief to see that not only did I not accidentally shoot myself, it also managed to break the chain connecting the shackles. I broke the bindings at my feet next, then turned to Theodore.

He was a few dozen feet from me, together with the rest of the slaves; they were all watching the battle slowly come to a close. Only a handful of bodyguards remained against the Mancis Company. I called out to the man, waving at him as I did.

I finally got his attention, and indicated the pistol and my chains. Theodore paused for a moment, realizing what I wanted to do. He hesitated, but nodded slowly as I readied to throw the weapon to him.

I stopped myself when I saw his face twist into horror. He was staring at something behind me!

I spun around quickly, raising the gun as I did. But there was a flash of light. Before I could even react, I found myself rolling on the ground, covered in… glowing chains?

Julian Mancis, owner of the Mancis Company, lowered his cane, the mana crystal on its tip dimming. He strolled over to me as I struggled against the bindings made of mana, but I could not break free. I glared up at him as he picked up the pistol I dropped, and inspected it slowly.

"You’ve caused me a lot of trouble today, girl," Julian said.

The sounds of gunshots and fighting died down. The last of the rich man’s bodyguards were finally killed— their screams the only thing indicating to me that any of them were still alive. Eventually, it stopped too, and the owner of the Mancis Company sighed.

"For your sake, and mine, I truly hope you were worth all this trouble."

Then it was over.

The battle ended with the slavers of the Mancis Company winning; Julian went to speak with the Bolerian officials— probably to bribe them to cover up this entire ordeal— while the remaining guards rounded up the slaves and brought them somewhere else.

It was only when all the other slaves were taken away, did somebody pick me up, and brought me to Julian. He looked down at me with a cold, cruel, gaze as he spoke.

"What do I do with her, boss?"

The old man, dressed in his well tailored suit, turned a cold eye towards me; I was manacled, once again. This time, however, it seemed like they gave me a stronger pair of chains. It felt heavier on both my arms and legs. And despite the minor medical treatment they gave to my ankle, the injury was being exacerbated by the new set of chains when I was not sitting or lying down. Julian Mancis shook his head, and gave out his order.

"Lock her up with the other troublemakers. Together with the heavy transport merchandise. Ensure nothing of this sort happens again."

Then he turned around and stalked away.

The guard grunted in affirmation, and roughly dragged me across the room into another, smaller storage room. The room was dark, and there were massive cages and boxes inside of it. He walked up to one of the cages, and tossed me in, locking both the metallic doors of the cage and the wooden door of the room as he left.

I looked around the empty room, and felt… horrible.

Everything went better than I expected— I knew that jerks tended to dislike other assholes, so I pitted them against each other, and it worked. Yet, I was forced to watch them brutally murder each other, and was not even rewarded with freedom. My escape attempt failed and now, I was alone.

Or so I thought.

From the corner of my eye, I saw something move in the cage! A shadowed figure was laying down just behind me, in the same cage I was in, and it looked like it was sleeping.

I froze. I did not know what it was in the cage with me, but it had to have been dangerous. Why else would they be locked up like this?

The only question was, what was it? Was it a Monster? An animal? Or a very scary person? I did not know which of those options I wanted, but I wanted none of them.

Whatever it was, I did not want to find out, so I stood very, very, very, still. Unfortunately, it must have already been awake, as the figure slowly shifted itself into an upright position, and opened its eyes.

Two glowing green eyes stared down at me, and a pair of triangular ears perked up on either side of its head. The humanoid figure stretched, yawning, as a tail uncurled from behind its back, and stepped forwards to meet me. She was a person.

"Nn, who are you?" she purred.

I took one look at her, and realized that something terrible; something fiendish; something truly unholy— even beyond my worst nightmares— occupied this cage with me. If only it was a Monster, I sighed.

Carefully, I moved. I calmly took my right hand, and placed the base of my palm gently onto the top of my face, resting it on my forehead.

I facepalmed.

A catgirl? Are you actually kidding me right now?! This world has CATGIRLS?!!

I groaned.

Yep. I truly, really, sincerely, hate this world.

Chapter 15: Nightmare

"Melas, dear, where are you?"

I looked around my room, listening to the familiar voice speak. Searching for the source. She was not here.

I ran out of my room, and glanced at the kitchen; she was not there either. I threw open a door, and glanced into the only other bedroom in the house— not in here too.

"I’m here, mom!" I cried out into the darkness, my voice echoing around me over and over again, as if I was in some vast and empty cave. I turned as I heard a voice call for me.

"Come here, my dear. It’s not safe there."

This time, I heard the voice come from the outside, beyond the front door. I raced in its direction, swung the door open, and then—

I saw my mom standing there, in her garden, the place I could always find her. She was bent over, tending to some plants, faced away from me. Her long black hair ran down her back, and she had her signature purple pointed hat on over it. I ran up to her, as I called out.

"Mommy!"

My mother knelt there, ignoring me, and continued watering the garden. I paused.

"Mom? Is everything alright?" I asked uncertainly.

I looked up at her back, worried. Why isn’’t she responding? I thought. I was confused, and afraid. Carefully, I took a step forward, and reached out to grab her hand.

"Mommy?" I asked again. "Is everything alright?"

The woman jerked up, and I backed away. The figure slowly turned her body to face me, and then—

I saw my mother looking down at me, smiling. She was fine. There was no hole in her chest, and she was unharmed. It was my mom, and she was as lovely as ever.

"Melas, dear, what’s wrong?" asked my mom, cocking her head. "You look afraid. Did something happen?"

I blinked at her, at first confused. Then I smiled, relieved.

"It’s nothing, mom. I just had a nightmare," I said, shaking my head.

But it was over now. My mom was here, and everything was alright. She spread her arms to her side in a loving, warm hug, waiting for me.

"Oh, Melas. It’s ok now. Everything will be ok. You are safe now. I promise."

I looked up at my mother as she reassured me. She was my sanctuary. My only source of happiness in this world I hated. As long as I was with her, I was happy. So I took a step forward to embrace her, to enter my safe haven, and be away from this wretched world. I reached out to hug my my mother—

Then her head exploded.

I sat up abruptly, waking up in a cold sweat. I grimaced as I upset my injured leg, and carefully lay back down as I brought a hand to my chest. My heart was pounding, and a lump was stuck in my throat. I didn’t scream, although I really felt like I wanted to right now.

I stopped myself from screaming, out of consideration for the others in the room. They probably wouldn’t have liked to hear me scream, because of their… second set of ears.

That’s right, they’re Beastkin, I thought, looking around. There were at least a dozen Beastkin in the cages that filled the storage room we were in. Each cage could barely fit a single person in it, but there were at least three of them in each cell.

In total, there were five cages sitting in the room, alongside dozens of small wooden crates that were stacked on top of each other. Unlike the cages, the crates looked to be transporting actual cargo, as they were no taller than me; and I was only average height for my age!

But I paid no attention to all that. I was only focused on one thing only: the Beastkin.

I remember being told about them by my mom… back when she was still alive. I felt a sinking feel in my chest as I thought about her again, but I forced myself to focus only on the Beastkin.

Beastkin were a species in this continent of what looked like if you took a regular Human and gave them a second set of animal features. There used to be twelve different races of Beastkin in total, but because of a variety of reasons, only half of them remain. These six races now survive and rule the country of Anibes situated in the eastern coast of the continent.

When I learned about them, I was told that they were animal-like; that they looked like a mix between a Human and an animal. I always assumed that meant they were animal-looking humanoids.

So when I thought of a Dog Beastkin, I just imagined a dog in a Human body; a person with fur covering them, and a snout protruding from their face. What I did not imagine, was a regular looking person with an extra set of ears, and a furry tail.

Like why? Why do you need two sets of ears?! What caused evolution to give you both dog ears, and Human ears?!

I sighed and facepalmed again. That was pretty much what I had been doing since I got here: thinking about the ridiculousness of their biology, and then swearing at the world. I bet this was that fake-god’s doing. I sighed out loud once again.

"Hey, you ok?"

My thoughts were interrupted by a gentle voice. I turned my head towards the source, and saw a young woman with an extra set of ears that were perking upwards, and a tail swaying from side to side.

Her hair was short, reaching only to her shoulders, and both her hair and fur were snow white in color with a pale skin to match. Her eyes were a luminescent green, with vertical slit-like pupils, and she had a small fold on her upper eyelid, covering the inner corner of her eyes.

She was the Cat Beastkin I met when I was first locked up in here, and also one of two cellmates I had. Her name was Rin, and she was looking at me with a face of concern and worry. "What’s wrong?" she asked.

I blinked, and just barely managed to stop myself from snapping at her. What’s wrong? Are you seriously asking me that? Everything’s wrong about this!

I only managed to keep my cool because I had gotten used to her over the last day of being locked up in here. I took a deep breath, and replied in a level tone.

"I’m fine. Nothing’s wrong. Thanks for asking."

"Oh good!" She clapped her hands together, and sat back in relief. "Nn, I thought you were hungry, you know! Because I am! They haven’t fed us all day!"

This time, I didn’t need to resist the urge of saying something rude, as the other occupant in the cell spoke up for me. "Of course she’s hungry, Rin. We all are. And she’s not fine either. Her ankle is broken. Please don’t make her feel even worse by reminding her of that."

He spoke disapprovingly at her— almost in a lecturing tone; he turned away from her and gave me an apologetic look.

"I’m sorry about her, she gets a bit… silly, sometimes."

You could say that again! I say she’s a full-on idiot!

I quickly shook my head, and tried to cast away those thoughts. Calm down. Don’t be a jerk, Melas. You had friends like her before, and you got along with them just fine!

But that was back on Earth. In a relaxed setting. Not when we were literally being kept as captives to be sold as slaves. It was a whole different world, and an entirely different scenario; didn’t I deserve to be at least a bit upset? I was bruised and injured from the fight the day before too! Plus, with all these people around, I could not practice my magic. To say I was ‘annoyed’ would be a massive under exaggeration.

I looked up at the man— a Dog Beastkin with a droopy pair of ears and a furry tail— and met his blue eyes. "It’s fine. Thank you, Mr Shang."

I spoke succinctly, and nodded my head at him. His hair and fur shared the same orange-red color, and he had an epicanthal fold on his eyelid just like Rin. But his brown eyes did not emit the dim glow like hers did. That was a trait unique to the Cat Beastkin, as a result of their night vision, their eyes shone dimly in dark places.

Shang smiled at me reassuringly— or at least, he tried to. His toothy grin did anything but reassure me, however I understood what he was trying to convey. "Of course, Young Melas. And please, there’s no need to call me… hrn, a ‘Mister’. That’s a Human formality, not something a Beastkin like me is used to."

"Of course, Shang." I nodded my head to him once again, then I remembered to smile. "Thank you."

And that was that.

Well, it was until Rin spoke up once more.

"So… you’re not actually hungry?" She looked side to side, and met our blank stares. "What? She did not say!"

This time, it was Shang’s turn to sigh as he began reprimanding her.

"Rin, what did I just say?"

"You said she was hungry! But she said she was not hungry!"

"No, Rin. I meant after that."

"Nn, I… forgot?"

"What do you mean you forgot? I just said it."

"I don’t know, Shang! You say a lot of things, ok?"

"Hrn, and do you listen to any of it?"

"I-uh… no?"

"And that’s exactly your problem, Rin. You don’t pay attention to anything."

"Nn, why do you gotta be so mean!"

"Because it’s for your own good, Rin. You need to learn to be more considerate of others, and to do that you have to listen."

"But I do listen!"

"No, you don’t."

"Yes I do!"

"No. You don’t."

"Yes! I do—"

I looked on in disbelief as the two began bickering over something so… trivial. All I could think was, how? How could they be so carefree?!

This has been happening both constantly, and consistently, ever since I met them. They really did not care; if they did, it must have been an infinitesimal amount of emotion dedicated to ‘caring’. I gaped on as the ‘argument’ (it’s not an argument, it’s literally a comedy-routine) came to a close, and when it did, Shang turned to me and apologized once more. "I’m really sorry about that. Please, just… ignore her or something."

"Rude!" the Cat Beastkin called out, "I can hear you say that, you know!"

"Please be quiet, Rin," Shang said without even turning to look at the young woman. He met my gaze, and bowed his head slightly. "She’s a bit annoying at times, but she’s a good person. I promise."

It was at this point, I finally could not take it anymore; for the past day I stayed silent, but now, looking at this, and hearing Shang apologize about it as if it were a normal thing— as if this entire situation was not literally the most terrible to happen to anyone— I finally snapped.

"H— How?!" I barely managed to sputter out the word. I inhaled deeply, trying to calm myself down, and continued. "How are you all so calm?"

This time, both Shang and Rin paused and turned to face me. They both blinked at the same time, as I went on.

"And I don’t just mean the two of you." I pointed around the room, at the other cages filled with Beastkin; Dog, Cat, and two Rabbit Beastkin were all locked up in cages, and just chatting with each other without a care in the world. "All of you! Why are all of you acting like this?!"

The room went silent, as I shouted out the words. All eyes turned to me, and I met each and every gaze with anger. Not righteous fury, or any kind of blazing hatred. Just an anger born out of frustration of being a slave, which was only exacerbated by the incessant pain in my leg.

And I did not understand any of this. Why did I have to become a slave?! Why can’t I practice my magic?! Why did… why did my mom have to die? I sniffed, and realized I was crying. I felt so useless. Despite my best attempts at trying to break free, I failed. I just wanted to run away from all this.

Shang gently placed a hand on my shoulder. Well, not one hand, but both of them since his arms were chained together by a manacle. But it was not him who spoke.

"Sorry," Rin spoke, her voice soft and contrite. "I— I did not mean to make you upset. And we’re not just carefree."

"Yes, we’re not happy about being chained up like this, either." Shang nodded his head in agreement. "But we can’t let ourselves be broken down by this. We can’t let them break our spirits. If they do that, that’s when these people win."

Shang spat on the ground in front of him, and Rin nodded her head. I looked up at them in shock. Win? They’ve already won. We’re slaves! I was absolutely dumbfounded, but it seemed like Shang read my mind, because he continued.

"The city the Mancis Company operates in— which is the same place we’ll be heading to— is Bys. It’s the largest city in Besha, and it’s also one of the biggest cities in the Free Lands. Just like Boleria, it’s known for one thing that makes it stand out from all the other Free Cities. Do you know what it is?"

I shook my head, but I could already guess what it was. And I was right.

"Slavery," Shang said the words acidically. "Bys is known as the Free City of Slaves. And that’s because slaves make up almost three quarter of its entire population. Hrn, that’s almost a million slaves in a single city."

I frowned. That’s a lot of slaves. More than the biggest Confederate State in America in the 1800’s!

Shang was clearly going somewhere with this, and Rin happily picked up from where he left off.

"Nn, that’s right. A lot of slaves in one city. More than enough to overwhelm their masters. But they don’t. And that’s because they’ve given up!"

The Cat Beastkin nodded her head sagely, as if she just imparted some sort of great wisdom upon me. But I already knew that. That made sense, and anyone who heard those statistics would intuitively already come to the same conclusion. The slaves have given up.

Did they mean to stage some sort of coup? A rebellion? A slave revolt? But how were they going to even do that?

They weren’t finished. Shang picked up on my doubts, so he quickly spoke to explain himself.

"I’m not saying we have some grand plan to destroy all of Bys, Young Melas. We’re saying that we will not give up on trying to escape. That’s all. If all the slaves in Bys never give up on escaping, the city would never have survived this long. But their wills were broken, and the city persists. So they will never gain their freedom. But for us, with any opportunity we get, we’ll take it. We will never give up trying to get back our freedom."

"And we will escape," Rin helpfully interjected, "I’m sure of it."

I was in complete disbelief. How? They were just… hoping? This made no sense. But I realized that they were the same as me. I had no plan to escape. But I wanted to get away from all this. And I wanted to make these slavers pay.

But it was not good enough to just hope. So I met their gaze, and challenged them.

"And how exactly will you do that? Say you get a chance to escape. What will you do?"

Rin and Shang exchanged a look. They both paused, and then they laughed; not just them, every Beastkin in the room started laughing and giggling to themselves as if I made some kind of joke. Then Shang turned back to me, and grinned.

"We fight, of course. We fight the guards. We fight the red haired man. Then, we escape."

I hesitated. That was something I could get behind, but once again, I asked myself the same question: how?

"And how will you guys do that? I’ve seen the red haired guard— Marcus— fight, and he’s strong. He’s fast, and he’s good with a sword. He also has a gun that shoots explosives that could instantly kill any of you here. How are you going to beat that, even if you somehow managed to break each other out?"

Shang looked at me, and then he shrugged.

"He’s a Human, is he not? Humans are… fragile. They rely too much on their tools to fight. Unless they’re a Saint, if you take away their weapons, they only have their hands and feet."

Shang then lifted one of his fingers, and pointed a sharp nail— not sharp enough to be like a claw, but definitely sharp enough to draw blood if he stabbed someone with it— at the thing on his mouth; it was a muzzle.

"Meanwhile, other species’ like Elves are naturally more agile; Orcs stronger and larger; and us Beastkin have our own weapons that you could never remove from us— unless of course you get up close and personal. And I assure you, that would almost always end with one of us dying."

Rin was nodding her head, and smiling. Everyone in the room was grinning and smiling. I looked around, and noticed something about the Beastkin for the first time: other than being a bit starved, they looked… untouched.

Unlike the slaves outside who were regularly beaten for misbehaving, it seemed that these Beastkin were usually left alone. Despite being locked up in cages, and despite all Dog Beastkin having a muzzle ; despite all Cat Beastkin having manacles that covered their hands entirely; and despite the two Rabbit Beastkin having chains reinforced by mana crystals around their legs; they were all being avoided.

I realized the slavers were wary of them. But I remembered seeing them fight. The guards were all Humans, and yet they moved faster than anyone in my world could. If Humans here were already that strong, then how about these Beastkin? I looked around, and met every eye in the room.

I always wanted to escape, but I had no plan; I always thought to wait until the chance showed itself for me. But that was not good enough. No one was going to save us, except ourselves.

"So, what’s the plan?" I turned to face Rin, and our eyes locked. "You said you will escape. Do you have a plan?"

Rin looked at me, her eyes serious and full of conviction. Then she smirked.

"Of course we do. You’ve noticed, haven’t you? They won’t come near us, out of fear of making a mistake. But they will have to when they want to sell us. When they do, we will pounce on them. Then kill them all. Or at least, the ones in charge like that Marcus guard, or the old man."

"That’s not enough." I shook my head.

I realized one thing the other day, from the battle with the rich man. And that was: waiting did nothing. Nothing happened as I waited and hoped to somehow escape. But when I acted, something did happen. It sparked the fight, which almost led to my escape.

And even that, it was at the wrong moment. I acted out of impulse, not out of any pragmatism, which still nearly could have gotten us out of here. Perhaps if I called out for help to the Bolerian Officials earlier, instead of just ignoring them; if I called out when the crowd was still around, there would have been too many people to witness what happened.

So it was not enough to just stand around and wait. They broke the spirits of everyone else, but they have left me, and these Beastkin mostly untouched. So we were the ones who had to act.

"Nn?" Rin looked at me confused. Bewildered by my statement. So I explained my plan.

"If you wait for them to gather around and come close to you, they’ll be prepared for you to resist. And especially if you try to escape in Bys— you’ll have to fight through a whole city. We’ll die if that’s the case."

"Better dead free than to live as a slave," Shang said, shaking his head. "But I understand what you’re trying to say. Go on."

"I…" I hesitated for a moment, feeling the pain in my leg flare up for a moment. The healer who treated me only gave me a dab of healing potion— speeding up the natural healing process, but not enough for me to walk around unhindered. I sighed, "I’ll help you. I’ll give you the moment you need to break free. Before we reach Bys."

It was a risk. If I was caught using magic… perhaps the Free Lands would have been kinder to spellcasters than the Church. Yet, a merciful punishment was still a punishment. However, with no risk came no reward.

Even just mentioning that I could help the Beastkin seemed to have elicited some suspicion from them. Shang cocked an eyebrow. "And how exactly will you do that?" he asked.

"I’m sorry, but I can’t tell you," I said, chewing my lower lip. "Just please, trust me."

I gazed around the room with a pleading look on my face. I could not tell them about my magic. But it was my magic that could get them the key. Everyone in the room, including Shang looked at me skeptically, but Rin spoke out in support of me.

"Nn, sure!"

I smiled at her, relieved. "Thank you, Ms Rin."

And she smiled at me back. "Aw, you called me Ms Rin! Shang did you hear that? I’m a ‘Miss’!"

Shang shook his head disapprovingly, and they were back to bickering with one another. But I did not look at them with annoyance, like I did before.

Instead, I relaxed as I watched on.

It took us a week before we left Boleria, the Free City of Trade.

I did not know why it took so long; perhaps it was because of the reduced personnel— they had to hire more guards to replace those who died in the battle— while selling off more slaves to reduce their ‘cargo’; or maybe it was due to the whole killing of a rich man and his bodyguards, which they had to spend a lot of money to cover up.

Regardless, our time in Boleria was much longer than initially planned. But it also gave me more time to recover. Lying around all day helped too.

According to Shang, at the rate we had been traveling, it would probably take us two weeks before we reached Bys. That gave me two weeks to act; I was not yet fully healed, but I found solace knowing we did not need to carry out our plan immediately.

I felt nervous at the prospect of escaping, but I was also almost excited. I’ll live, mom. And I’ll avenge you, I promise. I looked around the cages, the wagon, and felt it jolt as it hit a bump in the road. I stared at Rin, then Shang, before lying back down. But first, I thought, I’ll get out of here.

I closed my eyes, and I dared to dream.

Chapter 16: Light Bump

Light flooded into the room, and I glanced up to see a slaver enter our wagon. It took my eyes a second to adjust to the sudden brightness; the canvas over our heads was thick, which usually allowed too little light for me to see anything beyond the vague outlines of cages and Beastkin.

The slaver grunted, as if he were satisfied with what he saw, and turned to walk away. Rin leaned over the metal bars, calling out after him.

"Nn, where are you going? Come on, don’t you want to at least stay and chat a bit?"

"That’s not going to work, Rin," Shang said, shaking his head. The catgirl ignored him, of course.

"Hey! I just want to talk! Shang is annoying, and you— aw, he actually left." She slumped back down, sighing in an overexaggerated manner. "You scared him off, Shang, with your stupid, ugly face."

The Dog Beastkin ignored her, instead leaning one of his droopy ears towards the side of the wagon. "He’s gone. I think they’re giving an order to resume the caravan now."

"...did you hear me? I said you’re—"

"Do you know why we stopped?" I asked, as Rin continued to whine in the background.

"...Melas! Shang is a big meanie, stop talking to—"

"I don’t know," Shang said with a sigh. "Hrn, but they encountered something on the road. A roadblock, perhaps."

"...you know! I have—"

"Monsters?" I garnered a guess, to which he cocked an eyebrow.

"...he’s a terrible leader—"

"I don’t think any Monster attacked. If they did, there would have been some sounds of fighting. And such an attack is unlikely to happen on a group the size of this caravan."

"...stop ignoring—"

"No," I said, correcting myself. "I meant maybe they might have run into the aftermath of a Monster attack. On the road. That’s what I heard in Boleria— hordes of Monsters have been attacking cities all across Besha."

"...fine I’ll stop—-"

"That’s… unusual," Shang commented, frowning.

"Why’s that?" I asked, suddenly feeling like a weight had been lifted off my shoulders. Or an annoying bug had left my ear.

"I don’t know if we told you this, Melas, but we"— the Dog Beastkin gestured between himself, and the girl pouting in the corner of the cage— "are Hunters. From the Hunters Guild. Do you know what that is?"

"Yes," I said, "you guys just kill Monsters, right? Deal with Monster extermination."

"Hrn, correct." He nodded, before looking over his shoulder at Rin. "And we’re not just your regular Hunters. We’re a good team. Veterans. I, personally, have been a Hunter for almost a decade. And that makes us— for the lack of a better term— experts on Monsters."

I felt a shudder come over me, as I realized the implications of what he was saying. "But if this is… unusual. What do you think could be causing it?" I asked, trying to keep the fear from showing on my face.

Shang turned back to face me. He met my gaze as he responded, "Either something has been starving all the Monsters in the entire region, forcing them to resort to attack settlements. Or something— another Monster species from a different region, perhaps— has forced them out of their homes. Regardless, this is not something that’s good for us."

"Why not?" I asked stupidly. "Isn’t that a good thing— if a group of Monsters attacks our caravan, it could give us the distraction we need to escape. And this only increases the chances of that happening!"

"Because—" Shang started, but was cut off.

"It means that if a Monster horde does attack our caravan, it would not be satisfied with just eating all the slavers, Melas," Rin said, both her voice and her face suddenly serious. "Nn, and if there really are hordes of them attacking the towns and cities, then there’s no way we can escape."

I felt a bead of sweat roll down my forehead as the information sunk in; I looked over at Shang to seek some sort of confirmation, and only felt worse when he lowered his head in agreement with the Cat Beastkin.

A sudden jolt shook me out of my stupor. The caravan resumed its travels, but even the rattling of the chains and the banter between the Beastkin could not distract me from the fear creeping over me. I… did not want to die.

That was fairly obvious. I watched those slavers murder the rich man in Boleria; he was an abhorrent individual, entirely deserving of the fate that befell him. Yet, I could revel in his death with glee. If we had to escape— if I had to witness the brutal massacre of these slavers by Monsters— would I freeze up? Or would I be able to act unhindered?

More than that, however, how would my physical injuries serve as a detriment to such a scenario? I had broken an ankle. It was still in the middle of recovering, even if the healing process was sped up by the medical aid I had received back when we were in Boleria. If I were to die during an escape attempt—

The prospect terrified me, to say the least.

I was not sure if I trusted these Beastkin with my life; Shang seemed competent, but on the other hand…

I looked over at Rin who was bickering with Shang because he opted to speak with me about something of actual substance rather than engage in her quipping, and felt as though my life were already forfeit.

The thought unsettled me, so I closed my eyes, and put it off for a little bit longer. Dreaming was different from actually acting. And right now, I wanted to dream of escaping more than I wanted to try and escape.

"Melas," Shang said, waking me up.

It had been a few days since our caravan ran into whatever it was that forced us to stop while in the middle of the road; such incidents were occurring occasionally— not at a particularly high level of frequency— but enough to the point where we all knew something was up.

It was probably evening right now. Far from the middle of the night which would usually be when most people slept. However, my sleep schedule was erratic: with nothing else to do, and if the world sucked, sometimes it was easy to just pretend it all did not exist.

"What is it?" I asked the Dog Beastkin, sitting back up.

"I’ve spoken with the others. These talks of Monster attacks— they’re making us uncomfortable." I could not exactly make out the features of his face most of the time, since he was wearing a muzzle, however I could tell he looked grim. "We’d find anything preferable to being slaves, and I’m sure you do too. But ending up as food for Monsters is one of the last few alternatives we’d want, if we could help it." He hesitated, but I already knew what was coming next.

"You guys want to escape soon, right?" I guessed.

"No," Shang said, taking a deep breath. "Not soon. We want to escape, tonight."

My heart skipped a beat. "Tonight? But that’s so soon. My leg is not healed yet!"

"I know," he sighed, shutting his eyes for a moment. "I just don’t know if we’ll get a better opportunity than right now. From what I managed to hear from eavesdropping, this is the last small town the Mancis Company will be passing through on the way to Bys. They won’t even be selling any slaves here— it’s just a night layover they’re taking for some odd reason. The rest will be cities full of guards and the like. Far more dangerous if we break out now." The Dog Beastkin opened his eyes again, his ears lifting slightly as he looked at me. "You said you could help get us out. I don't know how you’ll do it. But if you can give us that moment tonight. I promise you, we’ll keep you safe no matter what happens."

I met his gaze, hearing a voice screaming internally telling me that I was not ready yet. I saw Rin leaning over the metal bars, chatting casually with one of the neighboring Beastkin, and that apprehension got worse. But I bit back my tongue, and nodded.

"I will help us get out," I said, trying not to reveal any signs of the nervousness I felt in my voice. "Tonight, right? Just sleep like you usually do. I will wake you up when I’m ready."

Shang eyed me with worry. "Are you sure? I don’t want to push you, Melas. If you need our help—"

"I’m fine," I cut him off. "I… just can’t get distracted, you know?" I made up some lame excuse, but it seemed to convince him well enough; he settled back down, nodding.

And then, it was night. I wanted to try and get some rest before we attempted this escape plan, but my nerves did not let that happen. The slavers came as usual, serving us some slops, while giving the actual cages a large berth; they slid the bowls into the cages, rather than get up close to it, probably out of fear of the Beastkin.

I made sure to pay careful attention to each of the slavers that came into the wagon. Most of them did not have keys on them, which made sense, but one— a supervisor of sorts— seemed to have a set of keys hanging around his waist.

I paid careful attention to what he was wearing; he did not have the same garbs as the other slavers. He was not like Marcus, who wore better armor, nor was he like Julian, who had a suit on. He simply had no armor on, and was dressed in plain clothing. An employee of the Mancis Company hired to handle paperwork, perhaps.

He seemed to pay less attention to myself and the Beastkin, than he did toward the boxes full of wares with us. So keys are going to be with the unarmored man. Got it, I told myself.

Soon after we were served our dinner, the slavers left us alone. Then it was dark, and everyone slowly went to sleep. Shang was the last one to close his eyes, and he shot me a look, to which I responded with a reassuring nod. I waited a few more hours before I finally got to work.

Let’s do this.

A faint blue magical circle appeared around my hand; lines began to appear on the surface of the spell, forming a pattern on the surface of the magic circle alongside symbols and shapes.It was like a round handkerchief with embroidery sewn into it; except the handkerchief is transparent apart for the edges, and the embroidery glowed in the dark.

I felt the magic coursing through the world, and at once, everything opened up; the world grew bigger, and it was like I was suddenly thrown deep into an ocean.

I was so immersed into it, I held my breath for a second, thinking that I was going to drown. But I did not. The cages around me did not disappear, and the shackles that bound me still held tight; I was still in the room with the Beastkin. That was the world I saw.

But in the world of magic, in the vast ocean that I was lost in, I recognized something familiar. It was a small pool that seemed to refract light, making objects in it appear much closer than they actually were. However, when I did dip my hands into the pool, the objects did get within my reach.

The feeling of a third invisible arm settled in, and I experimentally flexed (I can’t actually flex something with no muscles, but the idea is there) it a few times; slowly getting used to the feeling once again.

For about a minute, I accustomed myself to using the spell, moving it around the room, moving it through solid walls, and just touching random objects like small pieces of rocks and dirt.

It was a peculiar thing, really; I could easily control what I wanted my spell to touch, and what I wanted it to phase through. The sensation of doing it was odd— almost indescribable. It was like if you asked me to explain how I moved my real hand to a person without any hands; I don’t know how I did it— I just did.

After getting used to the magical feeling of the basic telekinesis spell, I finally got to work. I sent my mage hand through the front door, and waded my way to the nearest person.

It took me less than a minute to find my first person, and carefully used this magical ‘vision’ (it was not sight, it was simply intuitively knowing what was within grabbing distance of my ‘third’ hand) to figure out who it was.

It took me less than a second to figure out that the person was a guard: I could tell from the sword around their waist.

From what I could tell by the makeup of the room, we were in the main room of a warehouse; it was small. We were not even unloaded from our wagons— they did not plan on staying more than the night in this town. There was a single hallway to the side, with a few rooms on either side of it.

I sent my magical third arm into each of the rooms, trying to find the man from earlier. Unarmored man, is that you? Nope, just another guard. How about you? Nope—

Eventually, after leaving a room full of guards playing a card game, I found an emptier room. Tables and chairs cluttered the room, but only a single one of them looked like a proper desk for work. It was like a meeting room. And there, sat the supervisor from earlier.

He was awake, and he was working. I found the keys hanging around his waist, and slowly pried them off. I did it as carefully as possible, and fortunately for me, it worked. I kept the keys low and towards the ground, carrying it underneath the door and back to the main room.

It was easy. Almost too easy. It was only another minute before I held the key ring in my hand, smiling. I brought the key down, about to try each and every one of them to free myself—

"Hey, what was that?"

I immediately hugged the keys and turned over, pretending to be asleep. A guard stepped into the wagon, frowning.

"I could’ve sworn I heard something…" he trailed off, but after looking about for a moment, he shrugged and left.

I waited a minute before I breathed a sigh of relief. I felt perspiration forming at the palm of my hands, but ignored it. I brought the key ring up. There were only three keys, but one of them had to have worked, right?

I brought the first key down into my manacles. I turned it, and it didn't work. It’s fine, there’s still two more.

The second one was a dud too; I felt my heart racing now. What were the chances I tried the two keys that did not work? Regardless, the last one had to have worked.

I turned the final key inside of the keyhole. There was no distinct clink. I did not feel the heavy chains leave my hand. It was not working. Why was it not working? It had to work! I twisted the key harder in frustration—

And my hand slipped. I watched as the key ring flew out of the cage, landing with a jangle. I heard running footsteps, and I rushed forward for the keys, bringing my hands out between the bars. The wagon flap was thrown open, as I clutched the metallic ring with one hand.

A guard stared down at me, and I just stayed there, frozen. Like a deer in the headlights. The man just stood there for a moment, his mind processing the scene. Then he finally broke out of his stupor.

"You— where’d you get that?!"

He dashed forward at me, as I tried to back up. Unfortunately, he moved faster. He snatched the key out of my hands, pulling back away from the cage as quickly as he could. I managed to grab his shirt, and struggled to keep him from leaving.

"Let me go," he bellowed, holding the keys up above from my reach. He struck me across the face. "Guards, I need—"

The words left his mouth as he reeled in for another hit at me. I flinched, letting go, and immediately heard a scream.

A pair of legs swept the man of his feet, and pulled him into the iron bars. His face smashed into the metal, and teeth came flying out. The chained legs gripped the guard tightly as he struggled to pry himself loose; but the person holding onto him was too strong. The person who came to help me— to save me— was…

Rin.

The catgirl held the man against our cell, wrapping her legs hands around the man’s throat; the other guards ran in to help the man, but one look from Rin quickly changed their mind, and they began to shout for help instead.

Meanwhile, the first man was choking and gasping for air, but he could not escape Rin’s death grip no matter how hard he tried. Eventually more guards for the Mancis Company arrived at the scene, some were carrying long wooden sticks with two metal prongs poking out of one end. They began poking their sticks into the cages to keep the other Beastkin back, and one of them jabbed his pole at Rin’s chest.

Lightning crackled between the metal prongs as it came in contact with the Rin, causing millions of volts of electricity to flow into him; the Cat Beastkin jolted but did not immediately go of the guard. She was recoiling in pain from being zapped by the non-lethal weapon, and yet she held on.

Eventually, Rin released her legs, backing up from the constant shocks of electricity coming from the mana tools. The guards kept zapping her for a moment longer as they dragged the man’s body away from the cages. But it did not matter.

He was dead.

The aftermath from this incident was a chaotic one; there was shouting and screaming by both Julian Mancis and Marcus. They wanted to know how exactly I managed to steal the keys, but no one could answer the question.

As I eavesdropped on their argument, I picked out one thing which made my heart sink: I stole the correct keys. Just not the keys for the manacles. The keys I got were the keys for the cages. If I had not been so foolish, we could have escaped.

My excitement at being free from the chains, coupled with my fear of getting caught led to such a mistake. I sat dejected, for a while, until Rin approached me.

"Hey," she said, "you ok?"

I looked up at the Cat Beastkin— at the woman who protected me, despite my doubts in her— and nodded. "I’m… fine. I should be the one asking you that. Does it hurt?" I asked, gesturing at where they tazed her.

"Nn." Rin sat down next to me. "It doesn’t hurt anymore."

Neither of us spoke for a moment. I averted my gaze from the catgirl, ashamed at myself for getting her hurt. "I’m sorry," I said, finally.

"For what?" Rin replied, almost nonchalantly. "You didn’t do anything wrong. It’s stupid Shang’s fault for rushing you when you still weren’t prepared."

"No," I protested, feebly. "I just… don’t want to be a slave anymore, Ms Rin. It’s so terrible. Why did this have to happen to us?" I looked over at the normally carefree girl, tears forming in my eyes. I was crying. But why was I crying?

Rin did not ask. Instead, she wrapped her arms around me, and brought me into a hug. I froze, almost in shock by the sudden contact. I almost felt like my personal space was being violated for a moment— and yet, my worries suddenly washed away. Not completely. Just for a moment, I could relax.

We stayed like that for a few minutes. Neither of us said anything. I was pretty sure Rin did not know what to say, but it was better this way. Finally, when I had stopped crying, I broke the silence.

"I’m not going to give up." Rin let go of me slightly, and cocked her head. I glanced up, and met the girl’s luminescent eyes. "It is as you guys said: we can’t let them break us. I can’t let them break me. I’ll try again, the next time I get the chance. Not tomorrow, they’ll be on alert then. Give me four days. And this time, we’ll escape."

"Nn, of course," Rin said, trying to throw me a thumbs up but failing because of the manacles covering her entire hand. "Whenever you’re ready, Melas."

I took a deep breath, nodding my head. Four days, I thought. It was an arbitrary number, but that still gave us an extra week before we got to the Free City of Slaves if all went according to plan for the Mancis Company. So if this attempt failed again, we had time to try at least once more.

I eyed the smiling Rin, who seemed uncaring of the fact that she had just been hurt. I hesitated, biting my tongue. But I forced myself to speak. "Ms Rin—"

"Just call me Rin," she cut me off. "Nn, I liked being called a ‘Miss’ at first, but now it’s boring!"

"Right," I said, "Rin."

"What is it?" the Cat Beastkin asked, peering at me.

"Thank you." I bowed my head. "For helping me." In more ways than one, I left that part unsaid.

Rin grinned. "Nn, no problem!"

Chapter 17: A Brief Reprieve

"Oh, it was my birthday last week."

The words casually left my mouth, as the sounds of wheels running over gravel and horses trotting on the road filled the background like white noise from a television. The rattling of the cages and the shaking of the crates were aggravating at first, but I quickly got used to it.

I shifted in my lying position, and felt a bump, as the thought crossed my mind. I feel… bad. I took a quick peek at the young woman sitting to the left of my knees, and saw as she perked up.

"Nn, really?" Rin excitedly leaned forwards to face me. "Happy belated birthday!" she said.

The man sitting across her shook his head, and tried to lift his hand up to pinch his nose. He failed.

Instead, metal clanged with each as his manacled hands hit his muzzled face, followed by a loud sigh. Shang turned to face the Cat Beastkin, and spoke resignedly.

"Rin, do you really think she had a happy birthday?" The Dog Beastkin just barely stopped himself from throwing his hands up in the air, before continuing, "And remind me again, why exactly do you even know what day it is?"

The white haired woman scoffed, then stuck her tongue out at Shang.

"Because I pay attention! Nn, see? Stupid Shang!"

I looked on at this trivial argument, and smiled.

It was not the happiest smile in the world; it was not a wide grin accompanied by boisterous laughter and a witty remark. Perhaps I was not even happy or relaxed: I was just not completely on edge. And the small curling of my lips was indicative of that.

I felt so much better around these two, and I felt bad for how I initially thought of Rin! I know I never said anything bad per se, but just the fact that I thought it made me feel guilty; however I did not let that feeling affect me, and the smile— or curling of the lips, or whatever— stayed on for the moment.

Regardless of what it was, I interrupted their minor quarrel by turning to Rin and bowing my head slightly in her direction.

"Thank you, Rin, for the birthday wish," I said, looking back up and meeting her eyes. "And thanks for reminding me about my birthday," I added, "if you did not bring up the date, I might have become an old woman and never realized it."

The wagon hit a bump, and my joke fell flat.

Both Shang and Rin did not even register the attempt at humor, but the catgirl turned red at my praise, and looked triumphantly at her partner.

"Hehe! Of course!"

Remind me never to make a joke again. I lay back down, and stared up at the canvas ceiling. First Adrian, now them. Where has my sense of humor gone?! At least, I found myself funny! That was all that mattered, right? Speaking of which…

My mind focused for a moment, as a connection was formed between two inane trains of thoughts: Adrian.

His birthday was a week before mine, and I just turned 11 years old. But he was a year older than me, so he was 12 now.

I remembered Walden telling me about how some really talented children in Villamcreek were sent to Rem’s Capital— Remheart— to study, at around the age of twelve. Adrian was quite smart. Well, not as smart as any kid his age in my world.

But who knew? Perhaps he was given the chance to do that this year. Although I was not sure whether he liked that— as far as I knew, he was pretty content just living in Villamcreek. And yet, without me, there was no other kid in the village as smart as he was. It was likely he would have been sent out of the village to further his education... unless he got in trouble with the Inquisitors for being associated with me.

The dark thought crossed my mind, and I quickly shook it away. Nah. I’m sure he’s fine! There’s no way he would get involved with the Church! I reassured myself. That would never happen. I was sure of it.

Right?

The wagon shook as it ran over another bump.

"What’s going on?"

I turned to Shang as he held his hands up to his ear, trying to listen as best he could. I looked up at the Dog Beastkin, and he shook his head.

"I’m not sure. I think... I think something happened to the town we were supposed to pass through."

"Nn, we’ve been stopped for over an hour! They would usually be giving us food by now!" Rin threw her legs up in the air, and slumped to the ground. "I’m so hungry!"

"Be quiet, Rin. I think I hear something," the Dog Beastkin snapped at the young woman. He leaned closer against the metal bars, pressing his droopy ears against the cloth wall of our wagon. "Sh. Someone’s coming."

I held my breath, and tried to listen in as well; footsteps came closer and closer, right until it stopped next to our wagon, and a man’s voice can be heard through the thin fabric separating us from them.

"So, the boss wants us to just continue then?" an unfamiliar voice spoke with uncertainty. It was immediately followed by a more familiar voice that clearly shouted ‘I’m a jerk!’ to anyone listening.

"Yes. Julian wants us to get a good ways away from here before we set up camp. And he wants us to move as fast as we can. Double—- no, triple time," the head guard of the Mancis Company said authoritatively.

"But the horses are tired! We can’t overwork them now, when we just stopped to rest!"

There was a sound of movement that I recognized as a shaking of the head, followed by more words that screamed ‘Hey, look at me! It’s me! A jerk!’.

"That’s too bad. If you’ve got a problem with it, take it up with Julian. His orders, not mine."

With that, Marcus walked away, and left the wagon driver alone; the man sighed to himself and cursed under his breath, before going to do his job.

After a minute, we were moving again, and I stared at Shang.

"What was that about?"

The Dog Beastkin just shrugged.

"I think I’ve got an idea. But we’ll find out soon enough."

Rin and I exchanged looks, and she just sat laid back down.

"Don’t look at me, I barely even know what he’s talking about most of the time."

Shang just sighed, and ignored her. But he was right, we did find out soon enough; less than five minutes after we started moving again, wind blew against the flap at the back of our wagon, and I looked outside.

It was evening, the sun was setting into the horizon, barely illuminating the barren landscape behind us, with dark clouds mostly obscuring it. No, not clouds. Smoke.

I blinked as I realized what I was looking at: it was the remains of what was once a village.

Wooden beams were collapsed on top of each other, and ash piled the ground where buildings once were; some smoke was still rising up from the blackened wood of destroyed houses, while dark red spots were scattered throughout the ground of the town in the distance.

Just one glimpse at this grim portrait, and I knew one thing was for sure:

No one survived.

Whatever it was that attacked the town, spared not a single person in it— to the point that there were no bodies; I remembered the conversations I heard in Boleria, and only a single conclusion came to my head.

"Monster attack," I whispered the words.

It only made sense to me at the moment. But when I turned back to Shang, I saw him shaking his head; he turned away from the devastation and faced me.

"No," he said the words certainly, as if he knew it for a fact. "It was not a Monster attack."

I tilted my head to the side and he answered the unspoken question.

"If it was a Monster attack, the Monsters would have at least stayed to make this town their temporary nest. If not— if it were just a hit and run— there should be survivors. But there are none. Not even any remains."

He brought his hands up, and raised one index finger towards the direction of the town.

"Look. There are no corpses. Monsters are not clean eaters, and if they really came for food, there should be at least some remains— bones, bodies, anything— but there are none," Shang said, shaking his head. "This was not a random attack. It was an extermination."

The last word hung in the air for almost a full minute after he said it. I turned back to look at the town, as the flap flew open one more time; I stared at the desolation, and felt glad that we were not stopping there. Because—

"If whatever attacked the town, attacked us, do you think it will spare us since we’re captives?"

I looked back at the two Beastkin, and neither one met my eyes. I sighed.

"Thought so."

There were still many stops between where we were and Bys. A week and a half worth of travel, at the very least. Enough time to plan and stage an escape— or be killed by whatever it was that destroyed that town.

More days passed and the Mancis Company made their way further into Besha. As the caravan rolled down the gravel and dirt roads that connected cities and towns, they never stopped for long, only setting up small camps to rest the night before continuing at dawn.

Once, we arrived at a small city with stone walls twice as tall as any human man. The walls lacked any form of crenellations, with very few defenses, and guards too ill equipped to fend off more than a handful of Monsters at a time. In fact, it looked like the city had been attacked quite recently, as some parts of the walls were caved in, and replaced with hastily built wooden barricades.

The city itself was mostly untouched; there were only three or four fully collapsed wooden houses, and smoke was not billowing out of the ruined homes, giving off the impression that the attack happened over a week ago.

I only saw this because of the quick routine inspection the city guards did of the caravan, as we entered through the gates. In fact, they seemed to avoid the Beastkin as well, only peeping in through the flap of the wagon, and looking around for anything suspicious or illegal.

Because we were going to stay in the city for more than a night, the Mancis Company had our cages unloaded and placed into a storage room of sorts, alongside the crates full of equipment and food.

During that whole process, I finally managed to see Theodore again for the first time since Boleria. He was one of the slaves assigned to help unload the cargo into a wooden warehouse near the city square, and although I was relieved to see him at first, my face instantly fell when I caught a proper glimpse at him.

The middle aged man did not look well: purple marks and bruises littered his body, with a scar streaking across his face. As slaves, we never were well-fed because of the nature of our position, but Theodore’s pale complexion and thin frame made it evident that he was purposefully starved for days as a form of punishment. And despite all that, they were still forcing him to work.

Immense guilt weighed down my chest, as I knew it was my fault he was being tortured like this. When I looked at him, I instinctively flinched, and averted eye contact. I could not bring myself to see him. And he must have noticed this.

Theodore continued to bring out crates and boxes alongside other slaves, until it was time to bring out the cages the Beastkin and I were in. They were being supervised by the guards to prevent anyone from trying to unlock the cages, but Theodore still went for the metal cage I was in.

Along with three other younger men, they heaved and carried us out of the wagon and into the warehouse. As they entered the building and walked up to the room to keep us in, Theodore opened his mouth and spoke softly.

"It’s not your fault."

It came out barely as a whisper; something only meant to be heard by me. And with the sounds of crates and cages being unloaded filling the air, I was certain none of the guards heard it.

Upon hearing that, I looked up and managed to muster the courage to see Theodore. I stared at him, and the discolorations on his skin, and the wound on his face, finally taking it all in.

"I’m sorry," I said instinctively.

I did not force myself to speak, nor did I feel like it was appropriate to say anything at that moment; but I uttered the words regardless. Because I was sorry.

Rin and Shang looked on at this quiet conversation, and exchanged a glance, but said nothing; they were spectators to this moment, so they just watched.

Theodore looked up at me, and we held that look for a moment. I stared deep into his eyes, past his brown iris, through the pupil, and into the darkness that it held within.

"I had a daughter, once," his voice came out, hollow. Empty. As dark as the black circular opening in the center of his gaze. "She looked nothing like you. She had short orange-brown hair that she liked to tie into pigtails, and hazel eyes that sparkled like gold."

Our eyes stayed locked, and although I wanted to blink— to look away— I did not. He continued speaking, his voice dreamy, as if he were under a spell.

"And yet, when I look at you, I can only see her. I see her smile, shining as brightly as the sun. I hear her voice, as serene and beautiful as the birds singing at the break of dawn."

He finally broke away, and stared up at the ceiling as we entered a room. The door swung open, and we were brought to a halt as we reached a row of boxes placed on top of each other. The older man shook his head.

"And when I see you get hurt— when I see your suffering— all I can see is my daughter going through the same. Before she…"

His voice trailed off, and he slowly lowered the cage along with the others. They placed us amongst a bunch of crates, and the other slaves quickly turned and hurried off to continue doing their jobs. But Theodore just stood there. Alone.

"I’m sorry," I repeated the words, and felt like an idiot. But there was nothing else I could say, and it had to be said. So I said it again, even if it made me an idiot.

Theodore turned his head back to face me, and he smiled. It was a bleak smile, like the sun on a rainy day; the kind of smile you gave someone when you wanted to assure someone, but had no strength left to do so.

"There’s no reason to be sorry, Melas. It was my fault. I thought that I could at least save her— that if I had enough money, she could have recovered from the Noxeus. But there is no cure to that plague. I should have known that the moment my wife died. Then my daughter died too. And I couldn’t pay them back," the middle aged man forlornly spoke; his words striking deep into my chest.

I wanted to cry. Why? Why must we suffer? I wanted to scream at the world for being so unfair. But I did not. Because I knew those words hung between every sentence he spoke. I knew that his cry was silently being screamed into the world at this very moment.

I looked at the man. At the father and the husband. At the farmer who gave up everything he had and owned, just to save his family. And it was all in vain; ending with his family gone, and with the loan sharks he approached selling him into slavery.

He stared back into my eyes, and I knew then that the next words he would speak were not meant for me, but for himself.

"May the Goddess illuminate our lives."

Only when he turned away, did I remember to breathe; I stared up his back, as he went back to work, and was yelled at and beaten by the guards for taking so long.

Slowly, so slowly that I was not even sure if I was moving, I looked away. I turned to face the audience; the two Beastkin that shared my cell, and saw the overcast looks they had.

They both had somber expressions, something that was completely uncharacteristic of them; Shang was gripping his fists so tightly into a ball that blood was dripping off the side, and Rin was clenching her jaw so hard you could hear the grinding of the teeth.

"Hrn, we will get out of here, I promise."

"Nn, and we will make them pay."

I looked at the two of them, meeting the both of their gazes. Then finally, I could not take it anymore, and I cried.

I broke down, collapsing to the cell floor as tears ran down my face. My wailing echoed around the room, as the two of Beastkin comforted me, trying to ease my sadness.

I cried and cried, until there were no more tears; until the day came to a close, and the morrow came about to replace it.

After we left the city, our caravan continued on its track to Bys. I sat in the wagon as it hurried on down its path, and gathered every single ounce of willpower I had, then spoke.

"We escape. Tonight."

Everyone in the room, not just Shang and Rin, paused. The white furred catgirl tilted her head to one side and spoke anxiously.

"Are you sure? It’s so soon after our last attempt. And your leg…" she trailed off.

"Rin’s right. You’re still a child, and after what happened the other day— you don’t have to push yourself."

I shook my head, and resolutely stood my ground; I raised myself to my feet, and turned to every single person— not slave, person— in the room.

"We escape," I said. "I’m sick and tired of all this. I want this to be over already. I don’t care what happens— I just want to make them pay."

Shang hesitated, but he saw the determination in my eyes. "Tell me, Young Melas. Does your decision have anything to do with what I said to you the other day?"

"No," I answered truthfully.

"Very well then," Shang said, nodding. "Same plan?"

"Same plan. You guys just have to sleep."

"Nn, sleep! Sure! That’s the easiest thing you could have asked of me!" Rin spoke out cheerfully. A Rabbit Beastkin agreed with her and then it was settled.

They were not fully prepared for this; we had planned to try and break out again in another day or two. Yet, they put their trust in me: they believed in me.

I was not going to let them down.

I believed in myself, and remembered what I asked of the fake-stupid-jerk god; I had made a simple request, one I was granted as I was kidnapped from the world I loved, and placed into this world I hated. What I asked was this:

To become the most powerful spellcaster in the world.

And he granted it. So tonight, I was going to make use of that stupid request, and break out of this place; I was going to use magic.

I was prepared, and I waited for night to come. I waited for us to stop and make camp. I waited to finally escape and make these slavers pay for what they have done.

Then I can deal with the Inquisitors. And then the fake god.

I eagerly waited. And as the caravan continued down the road, I sat and waited.

And waited.

Night came, and still I waited. What’s taking so long?

I sat and waited as the wagon continued down the road. Ugh, did we come across another destroyed town? I sighed as I waited for us to stop.

And finally— we stopped.

Oh my God, finally!

I nearly threw my hands up in the air, and excitedly sat up. Rin stretched and sat up in anticipation for the plan to finally start, and Shang sat back relaxed, and ready.

I looked at the flaps of the wagon, waiting for people to come in and begin unloading stuff— or at least give us our meals since we hadn’t eaten since morning. The flaps flew open, and I looked up—

And saw a grinning face.

"Huh, that’s quite the merchandise." A man dressed in plate armor poked his head into the room and stared about, he spun away for a second and shouted at someone else. "Hey, come check out what they brought this time!"

I blinked as the man turned back to face us, with a smug look that was the hallmark of an asshole. As another man came up behind him, the man leaned forwards, and spoke mockingly.

"Hey, animals!" The man spread his arms to his sides, as the second man threw open the flaps revealing an array of towering structures and gargantuan monoliths behind their backs.

"Welcome, to the Free City of Bys."

Chapter 18: Bys, the Free City of Slaves

I had always considered myself to be a good person; if my friends called me for advice, I would help them the best I could; if a homeless man (or woman) asked for some change, I would spare them what I could; and if I somehow struck it rich— if my dreams of becoming a successful lawyer came into fruition— I always believed that I would find the perfect balance between living a life without worries, and a life dedicated to helping those in need.

It was a simple philosophy: it might not have been the perfect philosophy, or even the best philosophy; but it was a simple enough philosophy, one that would let me have a clean conscience at the end of the day

And yet, more and more often, I found myself questioning whether I was even a good person in my past life; because only someone so heinous— someone so maliciously evil— would deserve to go through what I had been going through.

If there was any truly grave sin I had committed as a white girl from Southern California, it was probably the fact that I ate meat! I knew I should have gone vegan! the inane thought crossed my mind. I should have listened to Maddie when she told me eating meat was bad! And now, I was sentenced to suffer in this world as a punishment for it.

Or maybe it was dabbing. I paused, and pondered on the malignance of my actions. Yeah it was definitely the dabbing that led to this.

Maybe I was just biased. Surely there were plenty of people back in my world who went through much worse suffering than me, and did not even deserve a tiny fraction of it; but only because I was experiencing it firsthand now, did I suddenly find the world to be so unjust.

And perhaps, I did deserve this. Not because of any transgressions from my past life, but because of the shortcomings in my current one; because I failed to see the slavers as people.

I only ever considered them to be laughably evil stupid-dumb-idiot jerks; but now I know that that’s not true, and that they were simply laughably evil jerks.

It was not an epoch-making revelation: people generally were not stupid, after all. But it was enough of a distinction to have vastly altered my plans to escape— if I was aware of it.

And that was a pretty big ‘if’ that never came to be, because my judgement was severely clouded by constant stress and anger, from… y’know being a slave and all.

As such, I never once considered the possibility that the slavers— the jerks who had us chained up and locked in cages— would have seen and experienced the same things we saw; reacted to it and formed their own opinions on it; before deciding to alter their plans, which probably were also probably quite arbitrary in the first place. Slavers were people too! Who could have known?

To be perfectly honest, I should have expected this; not anything in specific, just that something would go wrong. Because, let’s face it: nothing had gone my way since I came to this world.

I lost my life, then lost my mom, and was captured into slavery after nearly dying, thrice! That was more times I had come close to death in these last few months, than the entire 18 years I spent on Earth— and that was including the time I died!

So now, as the curtains were drawn, and the stage was unveiled before my very eyes, I was faced with the disconcerting reality that this world hated me as much as I hated it.

"Welcome, to the Free City of Bys."

The flaps of our wagon were thrown open, and a cold chill enveloped me as a gentle breeze blew in from the night sky.

My gaze swept over the city, seeing a network of intersecting streets stretch out for over a dozen miles, lit up by lamps and torches lined up alongside this grid. Roads ran parallel to one another, cutting across streets at a 90 angle from the side, creating a uniformed pattern of lines which formed hundreds of square shaped sections of the city.

It was like looking at a city from back home! (And by home, I meant America of course!)

Unlike Boleria— which was characterized by discontinuous streets and haphazard placement of roads— Bys had a regular layout of city blocks which made navigation within the city far easier. The consistent geography and frequent intersection helped with orienting oneself, giving a far more direct route to one’s destination.

I cast my eyes on the houses made of limestone and bricks uniformly wrinkling the landscape of the city: white structures with red tops jutted out of the ground in overlapping rows, leaving the terrain devoid of any personality, and transforming it into what looked like a dull suburban neighborhood.

These houses stood on average at around three stories in height, and occupied a plot of land almost twice as wide across; each house seemed to be split up into multiple buildings, and formed more of a small complex with a courtyard in the middle rather than a single structure, despite clearly being houses people lived in.

Most of Bys consisted of similar looking buildings, as though the same buildings were copy and pasted thousands of times over vast swathes of land to be as efficient as possible; but it was these sprawling indistinguishable architecture that made what stood at the heart of the city even more remarkable.

It was not a single monolithic structure that was erected in the middle of the metropolis like in Boleria, but rather a vast array of massive buildings that stood far above everything else within the city walls.

Dozens of buildings that rose up to a hundred feet stood amongst each other, forming a superstructure that was built in the center of the Slave City. The sudden transition was the same as going straight from a random town in the Midwest United States to the middle of Manhattan in New York City!

Towers and minarets clustered together to form the centerpiece that emerged out of the rest of the city. Varying structures came together to create an eclectic mix of architecture: obelisks poked out of the ground while pillars protruded from the floor, all just to decorate the land!

There was even a statue of a man standing triumphantly with his hands on his hips, standing 60 feet tall next to a clock tower twice its height!

But even among these mini-skyscrapers and giant monuments, there was a massive structure that stood out like a jewel amongst the unremarkable houses that filled the background; this gigantic amphitheatre almost looked like a brilliant round-cut diamond, where it’s base starts out small and thin, growing larger and thicker the further up the structure you went.

Looking at it from the side, it took the shape of an upside down trapezoid with the bottom being only half the length of the top. This was only possible because of the mana crystals reinforcing the foundations of the stadium, allowing it to not only tower over the city at almost 350 feet, and also be more than twice as wide across at its thickest. It looked like it could fit over 60,000 people in it without a problem! Almost as much as a modern sports stadium!

And next to the amphitheatre was another building erected up to 500 feet at its peak; this building stood as tall as any skyscraper from my world, but did not have the impossible proportions the adjacent monument had.

Instead, this towering structure was built layer by layer, slowly diminishing in size as the structured ascended. The ziggurat eventually crested into a flat top, which although could still fit half a football field (I mean American football, not soccer!) in it, it was less than a quarter of the size of the first layer that carried the entire building.

The ziggurat looked old, like it was built over a hundred years ago; the stone that built it was worn down, and the architecture primitive compared to the neighboring stadium.

And the fact that it was not made with any sort of mana tool enhancements on it attested to this idea. The design for the ziggurat had a massive base that was necessary to carry its own weight, since there were no mana crystals used to strengthen and support it.

This juxtaposition of the old with the new, of the unremarkable with the remarkable, and of the background with the foreground all painted the breathtaking portrait that was the city of Bys. And the final touch to this painting was the picture frame that held it all together.

The walls that surrounded the city were not as tall as the ones in the Free City of Boleria, but they were still heavily fortified, with bell towers placed every hundred feet. But despite circling the entire city, there were only four main gates— one in each cardinal direction— almost as if it was designed to keep things in, as much as it was meant to keep things out.

The Free City of Slaves unfurled before my eyes, and for a moment, I had my breath caught in my throat.

It was a beautiful sight. There was no denying that fact. But I couldn’t stare in admiration for long.

The sheer amount of manual labor required to build the vast and sprawling city laid before me had to be the work of millions of slaves. Generations of people entrapped in a society that treated them like some sort of tool.

I caught myself from gawking, and sobered up.

It was terrible.

The machinations of pure evil was what created the city in front of me. And I was caught in its system.

I shifted my focus away from the Free City of Bys, and towards the city guards standing next to our wagon; they were caught in a casual conversation with each other, talking excitedly about us— as if we were some brand new toy.

"Ha! I told you the Mancis Company always delivers!"

"I just don’t understand how they bring in so many slaves each year! And now Beastkin, too? Where did they even get those animals from?"

"From what I hear, these Beastkin were caught in a border conflict between Anibes and those idiots at the Chalstics Confederacy. Captured soldiers that the Mancis Company bought from the Free Cities there, and is now importing into Bys."

I listened in, and noted the ‘official’ story our captors made for us. It was not real, of course. Just a fake cover-up story they created because what they were doing was illegal.

Which, considering how Bys was known as the Slave City, showed how incredibly wretched the Mancis Company is; they were literally the worst of the worst.

Granted, legality was not a good basis for creating a moral compass. But my point still stood. Everyone in the city is a jerk! You two are even bigger jerks! And Mr Jerkface (Julian) is the biggest jerk!

The two city guards continued their conversation, as I continued to call them jerks in my head. Jerks!

"Another border conflict? I swear, those idiots squabble with outsiders over territory every other year. And they’re in a confederation too! How can their members even call themselves a ‘Free City’ with a straight face?"

"Hey, you should be grateful! Their stupidity is what brings us lots of slaves and money! Thank the Goddess that we can profit from those suckers."

"Whatever, everything looks like it checks out. Let’s go and tell the captain that they’re good to pass through—"

"Wait," the first guard placed a hand in front of the second, and pointed in my direction "look at her!"

I froze as the second guard turned to face me and whistled. "Oo, black hair. Never seen that before on a Beastkin. I thought only Elves got it?"

"Who cares about those blue-skinned freaks!" the other man snapped, and placed one hand and feet onto the wagon. He hauled himself up, and turned to his companion. "She’s a Human— you know, like us! And a good-looking one at that."

I shuddered as I heard those words leave his mouth. He stared fixedly at me, and I nearly puked. Grossgrossgross—

"Huh. You’re right."

"Goddess grace us, what kind of a reaction is that? Look at her! She even has the Mancis Brand on her face!"

I reflexively reached up to cover the scar. Disgusting.

"I’m not you," the second man snorted. "Too young for my taste. Maybe if she was a decade older..."

"Whatever, I prefer them this way." The man eyed me from afar. "They just look so—"

"Oi, what are you two idiots doing?" a voice interrupted the two guards. A man who looked to be higher ranked than the two entered our wagon. "Hurry up the inspection. We need to get this over and done with as quickly as possible. We need every man we can get back on the walls— if another horde of Monsters attacked us like today and you two are busy dilly dallying around down here, I’ll have you both turned to slaves."

The two city guards paled, and quickly ran out of our wagon. I stared blankly at their backs as they left.

Shang saw my stare— my face filled with concern and worry— and smiled reassuringly.

"Don’t worry," he said, and mustered a grin underneath his muzzle. "All is not lost just yet."

"But what do we do?" I asked, still feeling completely blindsided by this turn of events. "We’re in the Free City of Slaves. There’s no way we can escape. We’ll die!"

"You’re right, Melas." The Dog Beastkin nodded his head. "This is a terrible city, full of terrible monsters. Fortunately for you, I’m a Hunter. That means I’m used to dealing with monsters."

I met his look, and almost smiled back too. The moment however, did not last, as someone felt left out, and poked her head in to be included in the moment.

"Nn! Don't you mean ‘we are Hunters’? Stop trying to act cool by yourself!"

Shang and I turned to face the Cat Beastkin who spoke; Rin saw our expressions, and blinked.

"What?"

"I’m just saying, you didn’t have to leave out the rest of us!"

"Yes, Rin."

"Look, I know you were having a moment. But we’re here too!"

"Yes, Rin. I heard you the first ten times you said it."

"If you did," the catgirl said, turning from me to Shang, before pouting. "Why are you two still giving me that look?!"

"We’re not giving you any look, Rin," Shang sighed. "You’re imagining it." He rested his forehead on the palm of his hand.

At this point, I had to tune out this argument; it had been almost an hour and it was still going!

By now, our caravan had gone through the checkpoint with the city guards, and our wagons and carts were making our way deeper and deeper into the city. The light breeze from earlier was no more, and stronger winds blew into the flaps of our wagon, allowing me to look into the streets of Bys.

The roads were empty— apart from our procession— and the streets were dark and cold; only the light of the moon and the occasional street lamps illuminated the night. A faint mist covered the city, giving off an eerie and almost luminescent atmosphere to the Free City of Slaves.

It was like a scene straight out of a slasher movie! I fully expected to see an empty street in one second, only to blink, and suddenly see a serial killer standing there. Eventually, the scenery slowly shifted from well-decorated stone houses, to dull brick buildings that were each twice as large as the previous homes.

"Slave quarters," a voice whispered the words behind me. I turned and saw Shang looking into the streets of Bys, and he slowly repeated the words again.

"Slave quarters. We’re in a slave section of the city. One of many. This one looks to be around the massive stadium we saw earlier."

I blinked, as the implications of what was left unsaid slowly sunk in: the slaves here were not builders or manual laborers, but fighters. Gladiators. People, forced to fight in a blood sport for the entertainment of others.

It was wrong; I know the Romans used to do the same, and even in modern times, things like that probably still existed in some parts of the world. But seeing it for myself made me feel sick. I hate this world, the thought once again casually passed through my mind.

Another thought crossed my mind, but this time it was one of worry. Fear. A turning of the stomach as I realized that this was our destination.

"W-why are we— here?" the words left my mouth first with a stutter, and ended like a whisper.

The Hunter shifted in his seat, and spoke with uncertainty.

"I’m not sure. But if I had to guess, the stadium is where most of us will be sold at. It will probably be a public auction, involving thousands and thousands of buyers."

For a second, his eyes flickered to something on my face; then, he qualified his statement with something that probably was not true. "Who knows? Maybe he’ll hold a private auction for us Beastkin."

I blinked, and realized he was trying to console me; he knew I was going to be privately auctioned off to only the wealthiest buyers in Bys, so he was comforting me with the thought that I wouldn’t be alone.

And perhaps he was right. Maybe a few people would be sold alongside me. You didn’t just sell single items during private auctions, right? I did not actually know how private auctions work, but the possibility that I wouldn’t be alone made me feel better.

No, not better. Just less lonely. I shook my head and dismissed those thoughts; wanting others to suffer because I had to suffer was exactly the kind of thoughts horribly cliche bad guys had! And if there were any horribly cliche bad guys here, it had to be the slavers!

If there was anything that would make me feel better, it was not being a slave. Speaking of which, it’s probably time to address the elephant in the room. So I did.

"Hey, uh… what happens now?" I hesitated, and saw blinking faces. I was being vague! I quickly added in the important part of my question, to not appear like an idiot. "I mean what happens with our… plan? To escape. Are we… still doing that?"

I began to turn red over how stupid I sounded. Good job not appearing like an idiot, idiot! I just barely stopped myself from facepalming at myself, only because it would make me seem like an even bigger idiot.

Fortunately for me, Rin was here, and she did not judge people for being idiots. Thanks Rin! I’m really sorry again for insulting you when we first met! Even if it was in my head! That was mean of me, I was being a jerk!

"Nn, I completely forgot about that!" The catgirl perked up. She smiled at me and nodded her head and said "Of course we’ll still escape!"

From across her, Shang sighed loudly to himself.

"How did you even forget— nevermind." The Dog Beastkin resigned that point to Rin, and instead focused on the more important part of her statement. "How do you propose we escape, Rin?"

"The same way we’ve always planned to, of course!" the white furred catgirl grinned triumphantly, and puffed out her chest. "We fight."

She paused and noticed the incredulity everyone was looking at her with; the Cat Beastkin sighed, and her face turned very serious for a moment.

"Look, I know what you’re thinking. ‘Oh no! Everything is bad! We’re in the Slave City of Bys now! We’re gonna be slaves! Ahhh—’" she did a bad impression of Shang’s voice, and waved her hands in the air mockingly. Then, she simply shrugged. "And?"

She met every single eye in the room, and spoke with genuine passion.

"And? We just give up? Even after all that talk about never giving up? After all that talk about fighting for our freedom; we just surrender when faced with adversity?"

Rin stood up, and raised her voice to be carried throughout the room, bringing hope and inspiration with it.

"In the first place—"

"Lower your voice, Rin! They’ll hear us!" Rin’s motivational speech was interrupted by a Rabbit Beastkin from another cage.

"Oops," the Cat Beastkin said, sitting back down. She smiled apologetically. "Sorry."

Then, the young woman took a deep breath, and spoke again; this time, in a much more subdued tone, but with no less passion behind her words.

"In the first place," she declared, glancing around the room to make sure everyone heard her, and continued when she got a thumbs-up from the back, "did we not plan to break out in Bys?"

The young woman gazed challengingly around the covered wagon; when no one responded, she answered her own question for them. "We did, didn’t we?"

She smiled knowingly to herself, and continued her speech.

"When Melas heard our plan, she suggested the possibility of escaping before we had to fight through an entire city of slavers, because fighting through just a company of them would be easier. She did not, however, say to abandon the original plan completely. To her, it was just a worst-case scenario type of thing— am I right, Melas?"

Rin gave me a knowing look, and I slowly nodded my head.

"See?" The catgirl pointed her arms in my direction, and then around the room. "Well, guess what? It’s come to the worst-case scenario— to our original plan! And we’re not giving up! We’ve had setbacks before, but we persisted. Because, as far as I’m concerned, I could kill a hundred of these bastards with my hands tied behind my back!"

Slowly, Rin lowered her arms, and gave a smug grin to everyone in the room.

"Just because they captured us in our sleep, doesn’t mean they can do it when we’re awake. We are Hunters, after all."

The wagon went silent, and it carried on for a couple of seconds, before someone finally broke the silence; from his seating position, Shang shifted, leaning forwards and opening his mouth to speak.

He was going to support his companions speech. He was going to give his own inspiring words to stir up the room even more. He was going to—

"Hrn, did you really say all that, just to get back at me for saying ‘I’m a Hunter’, and not ‘we’?" the Dog Beastkin sighed and began to rub his temples. "And in the first place, weren’t you the one who dozed off during your shift to keep watch at night— which led us to being captured while asleep?"

Shang looked accusingly at the young woman; Rin’s face immediately turned beet red, and she began trying to defend herself. "W-w-what? No, I—-"

Then I laughed.

At first, I giggled, as if someone made a bad pun that was slightly amusing; then I started to chuckle, the kind I made when I was watching a really funny family movie; and finally, I guffawed, laughing and laughing like some sort of insane woman— as if some sort of madness had taken control of me, forcing me to laugh against my will.

It was not a happy laughter. It was certainly not something that came about from being entertained. But it was laughter nonetheless.

And what did laughter even do? Supposedly, it secreted endorphins— some sort of happy hormones— to stimulate my brain, making me happy. That was science. Something which I vaguely learned about in my world. But I was not in my world.

Did laughter work the same way here? I certainly did not feel happy in the moment, so clearly it did not. Or maybe, I was taught wrong; after all, I did learn this from the internet, and not some science textbook.

But there was something which laughter did, that certainly did work across worlds. It did not always do it. But when it did, it just happens, almost like—

Magic.

Not the kind that would get you killed for doing in this world, or the ones that only existed in fiction back in my world. But the kind of magic that just works. That just happened.

And the magic that laughter brought about— the thing that would happen, inexplicably and only occasionally— was a simple thing: it lightens the mood!

Laughter was contagious. It spread like a disease in an airtight room, with everyone in the room squished together, and naked. That’s a graphic thought— in more ways than one. But when laughter spread, it eased the tension of the room; it lightened the severity of the situation, because how could you be serious while laughing?

So when I laughed, at first, everyone stared at me confused. Rin, Shang, and all the other Beastkin in the wagon were simply bewildered.

But as I continued to laugh, Rin joined in, then Shang; and from that moment, it was a domino effect. Dog, Cat, and Rabbit Beastkin alike all laughed together with me, a Human. A young Human girl that gave them false hope that could never be; and yet, because we were together, we laughed together.

The laughing kept going, on and on, and would have lasted forever if we were left unchecked. But that never would have happened, because we were slaves. We had no freedom. And without freedom, we would always be checked.

"Oi! Shut it, you noisy fucking animals!" a voice bellowed into the wagon from the outside. The wagon driver shouted, and spoke in a quieter voice to himself, "It’s even worse than a zoo."

All at once, everyone stopped laughing. A hushed silence enveloped us, and brought us back to the moment. But the moment was no longer one of dread and hopelessness; although it was not one of hope and joy either. It was just different. It was… calm.

Our nerves from before were gone, and we looked at each other with a readiness that will never be enough for what was about to happen. But we had to be ready. And we had to be calm.

So when we finally arrived at our destination, the wagons stopped moving, and the night returned to its natural quietus, I whispered something out for everyone to hear.

"Same plan, different place, but same outcome."

Shang looked at me, and he simply nodded. He did not ask if I was certain or sure any longer; there was no time for that any more. If I were not prepared like during our last escape attempt, then we would simply fall into the fate we had been expecting since we were chained up. Or die.

Rin looked at me and grinned. She might have had a thousand words she wanted to say to me at the moment, but now was the time for action: so the grin sufficed.

The Mancis Company began unloading their goods into their warehouse, and I saw Julian gleefully looking over us with money in his eyes.

The warehouse was large; there were more guards in the building than there were escorting us throughout our trip, and Marcus began ordering them around. Slaves— not the ones with us— but slaves that were already in the warehouse, slaves that have been in Bys for years, came out, and began unloading the cargo and bringing it into the structure; as they did this, they were being loosely supervised by their masters, almost as if they did not expect them to do anything suspicious.

And they probably would not have done anything other than what they were told. They looked worn down, broken and crushed from years of hard labor and torture.

When I looked at them, I knew I did not want to be like them. I was never going to give up. I would never be broken; neither my legs, nor my will. I was going to escape their shackles, and run away from this bondage.

I will be free.

So when we were brought in our cells to a room to be stored; when the door was shut and locked behind the slavers as they left us alone; when the darkness of the night closed in, and the world slept in silence. I did not sleep.

Instead, I reached out. I raised my hand in the air, and felt something. A dim circle of light appeared, and then—

The world opened up.

Chapter 19: Live

I held the keys in my hand, and smiled. The deed had been done, I had learned from my past mistakes. We were locked in a cold, dark room with only a single metal door and a small window, yet I somehow acquired what I needed.

It was not difficult when I could use magic to solve my problems; I was more cautious this time around, when it came to stealing the key with the levitation spell, which ended up eating an hour of my time. Furthermore, I was aided by the fact that the walls in the warehouse were incredibly thick, which let little noise escape from the room. I had the key ring now, and unless I decided to bang the metal keys against the bars of the cage, there was no way any guard could intercept me.

I slowly rose in my cage, and gently touched Shang on the shoulder. The Dog Beastkin blearily opened his eyes, blinking multiple times to wake himself up.

"Hrn, how’d it go?" Shang asked, voice still hoarse from sleep.

I showed him the keys and flashed a grin.

"It went great," I said, not bothering to hide my excitement.

Shang’s eyes widened upon seeing the keys, and his lips slowly curled into a smile; underneath his muzzle, the Dog Beastkin’s mouth widened, revealing dozens of sharp fangs and two dagger-like canines. "Good."

"Let’s get out of here." I began sorting through the keys, searching for what would provide our emancipation. "But first," I said, stopping what I was doing, and looked to the ground. "What do we do about her?"

We both turned to face Rin, the white furred catgirl, lying on the ground, snoring loudly with a snot bubble blowing out of her nose.

"Do we—"

"I’ll wake her up," Shang answered my question before I could even finish.

It took us a minute to rouse everyone from their slumber; Rin was, surprisingly enough, the easiest to wake up. After that was finished, I tried sorting through the half a dozen keys in the keyring to find one that would set us free. None of them worked on our manacles, but one key did unlock the cages, and that was good enough for me.

We gathered in the middle of the small room to plan our next course of action. I had to hobble over, supported by Shang since my ankle was not fully healed just yet. I could walk, and the pain felt from each step was small, but I did not want to reopen the wound by pushing myself too hard.

The metal door to our room was bolted from the outside, so no key I had on me could open it up.

"Nn, I could smash it open!" Rin helpfully suggested, but was quickly shot down by Shang.

"No," he said. "That would cause too much of a disturbance. We want to bring the guards here to unlock it from the outside, and silence him quickly. Hrn, we’ll have to cause a bit of commotion."

I nodded my head. "It’ll have to be a loud one, but not loud enough to attract all the guards in the warehouse to this room. Just the ones nearby."

"Well, that sounds easy enough." Rin grinned, and hefted her manacled hands. They were not ordinary handcuffs which was what most everyone else had— they were shackles that obscured her hands all the way down to her forearms. Some sort of iron bindings which covered her fingers in their entirety.

The Cat Beastkin raised her arms, and slammed it against the metallic bars of the cages. Then she took a step back, and we waited for the door to swing open. It took a moment before the muffled sounds of footsteps reached our door. I heard the sliding of metal, followed by the a clink as the bolt was lifted. A guard stepped into the room, frowning.

"What are you animals—"

Shang slammed his forehead into the guard. The man fell, and opened his mouth to scream, but a Rabbit Beastkin came down on him, smashing his foot on the man’s face. I grimaced as I watched the man’s skull cave in, but that silenced him quickly enough.

Rin swung the door open, and smiled. "That was easy enough."

"Hrn, indeed," Shang concurred, stepping up behind her. They were all still chained up with our special forms of shackles for each type of Beastkin, but that did not seem to deter them in the slightest. "It’s time for us to take our leave."

I followed slowly behind them, trying my best to keep my gaze away from the corpse at my feet. "Yes," I said, taking a deep breath. "It’s time for us to be free from these lands."

No one laughed at my joke!

Ok, sure, Rin did giggle a bit. And Shang did give me a polite smile. But the two of them did not count!

It wasn’t even a bad joke too! Sure, it was a pun— which was supposedly the lowest form of comedy back on Earth— but at least it was not some dumb inside joke nobody would get!

I sighed. At least I’m trying, right? I believed that when someone was stuck in a terrible situation, they should never lose their sense of humor; even if they sucked at making jokes.

Well, that was not to say I was bad at making jokes; my friends back on Earth always laughed when I told one! But we were like-minded! And we enjoyed teasing each other too! Kind of like how Rin and Shang interacted, but less… personal?

There was a line we never crossed when we teased each other; a line that didn’t exist for these two. Speaking of which...

The door swung open, as the guard walked in muttering to himself. "I swear I heard something—"

He was cut off by a pair of hands that grabbed him, and smashed him against the doorframe. "Sacred—"

Thunk. The man collapsed to the ground, his skull cracked open, and blood slowly dripping from his head.

I flinched at the brutality of it, and averted my gaze from the corpse. Did I think that he deserved it? Yes, he did. But I was still not used to such… casual violence. That was why I kept trying to lighten the mood with jokes— even bad ones.

This was criminal justice. We were slaves trying to reject the fate we had been given, and somehow, that was considered a crime. I’d prefer to think of it as vigilante justice, but that was not true— definitely not in the Free Lands, at least. It was a terrible place with a terrible sense of morality, which made for terrible acts of retaliation in return.

Shang grabbed the man he just killed and dragged his body back to our room and piled it up amongst the other corpses of guards. Rin entered this new room, and I followed after her. We found ourselves in what appeared to be a break room. It was small with a table full of half eaten food pieces and dirty plates; there were some glasses of beer and ale, but they were completely empty. Perhaps the guards had been drunk— or at least, not sober— which contributed in the ease of our escape attempt so far.

There was a cabinet full of thin drawers sitting in a corner of the room. I began pulling it open, rummaging through the pieces of paper and writing tools, searching for a key.

"Do you see anything?" Rin asked, peeking her head over my shoulder.

"No," I said. The Cat Beastkin could not help me in my search because the manacles in her arms gave her no fingers to open things with. However, I did appreciate her company because she made me feel safe. "Nothing," I sighed. "This whole cabinet is full of documents, but no keys."

"Eh, guys!" a voice called out from the hallway. The Rabbit Beastkin from earlier popped through the doorway. "We found it."

"You did?!" Rin and I exclaimed at the same time. We rushed out to the hallway, following the Rabbit Beastkin into a room; he could not move fast, because of the special manacles around his feet, however he could still walk, and that was good for me since I did not want to run either.

Once we reached the room on the other side of the corridor, Rin practically shoved the Rabbit Beastkin aside to get in. I hesitated behind her, as I looked at Shang, standing in the middle of the room.

The Dog Beastkin turned around as I heard the clatter of chains hit the floor. I stared at him, his face free from the muzzle, and his arms and legs unbound. He held the keyring with over a dozen keys in it up, and smiled.

"Now—"

Rin ignored him and snatched it off his fingers. "Yoink," she said, the metallic ring in between her teeth. She paused, staring down at her arms. "Uh, could someone help me?"

Shang sighed, "You’re an idiot."

"And you’re a meanie!"

I smiled. And half an hour later, we were all finally freed from our bonds. We were not free from slavery just yet, but this only increased our chances. And it made the Beastkin only more efficient.

We cleared out the rest of the hallway, entering each room and killing the guards inside of it. Rin knocked on a door, and waited for it to open. An unarmored man came out, rubbing at his eyes. "What is it—"

He was cut off as Rin jabbed a finger forward. She immediately silenced the man, slicing his throat open; he collapsed with a gurgling noise, choking on his own blood.

The Cat Beastkin lowered her hands, blood dripping off of her claws slowly. She flicked her wrist, cleaning the blood from her claws, before they slowly retracted back into her fingers.

Wolverine? Is that you?! I didn’t know you were an X-Men, Rin!

I tried my best to ignore the dying man on the ground, and focused on Rin’s ‘super power’. I watched as each of her nails slowly shrink from four inch long daggers, back into normal looking nails.

Well, by ‘normal’ I meant normal for a Cat Beastkin. They were actually quite long and sharp even in their reduced state; they protruded out by about an inch from each finger, and unlike Human nails, they looked sharp enough to draw a lot of blood. Like a cat’s claws.

As they were now, they were like Shang’s nails; in fact, both Dog and Cat Beastkin had sharper than normal nails, but Rabbit Beastkin had normal nails. And by that, this time I meant regular Human nails.

Rin must have noticed me staring, because she began to proudly explain herself. "Cool, right? It’s something only us Cat Beastkin can do! We got these claws that are as sharp as any knife— sharper even! Shang wishes he can do this—"

"I think she gets it, Rin," Shang cut off the catgirl. "Now please be quiet. We don’t know if there’s anyone else in the other rooms."

She pouted. "Stupid Shang, you always ruin the fun."

One by one, we checked the rooms in the hallway, starting from the ones all the way at the end, slowly making our way back to the corner rooms.

Most of the rooms held boxes and crates full of chains, manacles, and other similar bondage equipment. But one of the rooms in the middle had half a dozen guards, sleeping in their beds. I struck up a conversation with one of the two Rabbit Beastkin as they were quietly disposed of.

"So… got any cool powers?"

"Powers?"

"Rin has claws, and Shang has fangs. Do you have… anything like that?"

"Eh, our kind doesn’t really have anything special like that. We just have good legs."

"Good legs?"

"It lets us jump very high. Eh, about 25 feet up for the average Rabbit Beastkin."

I blinked. Nothing special, my butt! You can probably dent metal and smash concrete with that!

The conversation ended, as Shang and the others were finished with the guards in the room; we continued making our way down the hallway, until we finally reached a different room. The door to this room was bolted, just like ours, and I exchanged a glance with Shang.

"Slaves?" I asked, lifting a brow.

"Hrn, probably the ones that work here. The others in our caravan were brought downstairs," he said, unlatching the door. "But be prepared for anything."

The wooden door slowly creaked open, and three sparsely dressed men with thin frames immediately scrambled to their feet; even while standing, they looked like they were laying down, as they took on slumped postures to make themselves as small as possible.

"Yes, master? Is there something—"

They paused as they noticed the people standing at the door, and stared. I looked back at them, and saw two middle aged men who were highly malnourished, and a younger— but just as thin— man standing over thin cloth beds.

After a moment of silence, the younger man managed to muster up a question. "W-what’s going on?"

Perhaps, somewhere deep down inside of them, they knew what was going on; the situation spoke for itself, after all. But they must not have believed it. So I spoke flatly, not bothering to explain how this came about.

"We’re getting out of here. You’re all free."

"W-we are?" the younger man asked, voice shaking with shock— at the suddenness of it all.

"Yes." I dangled the key in front of their faces, and grinned. I walked up to them, and continued. "Now let’s just—"

"Don’t!" One of the older slaves threw himself between me and the man. He spread his arms out, blocking me, and hurriedly spoke. "Don’t do it. Please. Just leave us alone."

"What?" I uttered the words stupidly. I was flabbergasted. I nearly dropped the keys in shock, but held on.

I was not the only one caught off guard by their reaction. Shang stepped forward, and raised his hands placatingly.

"I’m sorry, Eld— Hrn, Sir." The Dog Beastkin paused briefly as he adopted human formalities. "I don’t know what you think is happening, but I can assure you that this is no trick. We are setting you free. So if you just—"

"No!" the man nearly shouted the words this time.

Everyone stared at him in shock; not just us, even the younger man was surprised. He turned to his elderly companion, and asked the question in everyone’s mind. "What are you doing? They’re helping—"

"Do not listen to them!" The older slave grasped the young man by his shoulders. "You’ll die if you go with them."

"W-what?" More than one person in the room said the word, but the younger man’s voice was the loudest. "What do you mean by that?"

The older slave shook his head and crossed his arms.

"What they’re doing is suicide. They unchain you, then what? You fight? Sneak out?" He looked around the room and met everyone else's eyes. He briefly passed his other companion— the second old slave— and got a nod in agreement.

"There’s an entire city out there. If you go with them, you will die! You— you can’t fight through all of them. I’ve seen the gladiators try to revolt. They— they knew how to fight. And how many of them were there— hundreds? Maybe thousands even?" he spoke, voice shaking with each word, and despair the only thing in his eyes. "But how many people are in Bys? How many tens of thousands of soldiers did they have to face? They— they thought they knew how to fight, but they failed. Most of them were killed, and the ones that do survive were punished."

The older slave slowly shook his head, and looked pleadingly at the younger man.

"You can’t escape. Even if you do— you’ll always be a slave. If someone finds you, they can just take you and sell you again. Just stay here."

The young man hesitated, he looked between us and his two older companions, uncertain of what to do. He was torn between doing what he wanted, and doing what made sense— what was safe.

He stared around the room, and for a brief moment our eyes met; I wanted to tell him to come with us, to not lose hope. But I did not.

"It’s your choice."

The young man paused, and looked at me; he looked deep into my eyes, as if he was searching for something deep inside of it. And finally, after much deliberation, he made his decision.

"I will go."

The other two slaves shouted in outrage, but his decision was final; Shang and Rin held back the two older men, stopping them from doing anything, as I uncuffed the man.

"What’s your name?"

"Feri," he said.

"It’s nice to meet you, Mr Feri," I said, trying my best to smile. "I’m Melas."

The manacles clicked open, and dropped to the ground. Feri inspected his hands, turning it over and flexing it, almost as if he thought the chains would suddenly reappear on it. But when it did not, tears welled up in his eyes, and he began to sob.

"Thank you, Melas. Thank you."

He clutched my shoulders, and collapsed to his knees as he cried. I hugged him for a minute, letting his emotions pass over; and when he was finished, he picked himself up and covered his face, ashamed of crying in front of a child.

I almost felt… happy. As if I did something so amazing to free this man. But I did nothing; it was his own actions that helped him free. Plus—

"It’s not over yet."

Feri turned to look at me as I whispered those words. He slowly stood straighter, and nodded his head. "Right."

Shang approached us from behind, and spoke to the former slave. "You’ve been here awhile?"

"Yes."

"So you know the layout of this building?"

"Yes—"

The two of them started discussing plans to escape as they walked out of the room. Rin and the other Beastkin followed after them, and I was about to too, when I heard a voice come from behind me.

"You killed him."

I turned around and saw two pairs of eyes filled with hate staring at me. The older slave from earlier was kneeling down, being supported by his friend.

"You’ll die— you’ll all die— but you’ll die a murderer," he spat the words vitriolically. He turned his gaze up to the sky, and spread his hands out to the side. "You killed him. And the Goddess shall punish you for it in the afterlife."

Rude! That’s not how you speak to a kid!

I shook my head, dismissing the inane thought, and met his stare.

"I did not make the choice for him. He chose for himself." I held my gaze with the man, and continued. "So if he dies, then he dies out of his own volition. Not because I killed him."

I ignored the man as he began to sputter in outrage; I pulled out the key ring, grabbed one of the keys from it, and tossed it at the two slaves.

"Here."

The metal key flew in the air for a few seconds, and landed at the feet of the two older men. They stared at it, as I turned around to leave.

"You can decide for yourselves too." I began to walk out the door, then stopped. I turned around, and looked down at the two slaves; on the two men tied down by fear of others. "But we will not die. We will live."

After all, why would I be afraid of a few slavers, if I was going against god?

The false god wanted me to die. His followers said so. They wanted me to embrace my death. And he killed me before, so how was I supposed to fight back? Yet, I would try to seek revenge. I did not know why he wanted me dead, nor why he sent me to this world. It was probably to fulfill some unknown goal of his, but I would never accept it.

"I will live,"— I raised my hands up in the air, making a declaration to the world— "and I will live free."

Chapter 20: Shaken

I left the room with the two slaves, and followed after Shang and the others as they quietly whispered to each other; it was not as painful on my ankle to walk as it was with the chains around my feet, so I managed just fine by myself. They were standing by the end of the hallway, peering over the corner into the rest of the warehouse.

The hallway led to a catwalk that was about ten feet off the ground in the main room of the warehouse; it covered three sides of the main hall— with small entrances to hallways throughout the first and second floors— and a large entrance on the fourth side of the box room, leading to the outside.

On the corners across from the main entrance, two staircases led down to the vast open space that made up the first floor. Wagons and carts were parked in the center of the room, while some boxes and crates filled the sides closest to the walls.

However, there was a distinct absence of the car which Julian rode in the warehouse; this meant that Mr Jerkface himself probably was not present at the moment, which could also mean that the head guard of the Mancis Company— Marcus— was not here either.

It did not confirm anything for certain, but the very thought itself left me conflicted; on one hand, their presence could have prevented our escape, but on the other hand, that meant we couldn’t pay them back what they deserved.

And they deserve a lot of bad things! Jerks!

Of course, I kept my mouth shut. I did not want to make too much noise, and neither did I want to interrupt this important conversation that I should be listening to. Probably should stop zoning out, I told myself.

I looked up at Shang as he quietly whispered to Feri.

"And they’re being kept in there?"

"I—uh, yes. They had us bring them down there. That’s usually where they bring new arrivals to— um, but I saw them get brought down there, so… so, I’m, erm, sure."

The Dog Beastkin looked uncertainly at the newest member of our party, and even I had to blink at that. The young man was stuttering and tripping over his own words; he did not sound sure of himself at all!

But Feri had been a slave for... God knows how long? His dirty blonde hair reached down to his shoulders, and his body was thin and frail. It was a given that he was not the most confident person in the world.

Still, his words did not instill any confidence into me; I did try my best to believe him, but it was difficult. I shook all my doubts off my head, and turned to face Shang.

"So, they’re in the basement?"

"Yes. If we go down that hallway,"— Shang pointed at an opening next to the stairs on the first floor— "there’s a stairway that leads to the basement. Supposedly, they are locked in a massive cellar down there."

"Good," I said, nodding my head at the Dog Beastkin, "that makes it easier for us. We can get them all out at once." I felt myself bursting with excitement as freedom seemed so close within my grasps, before catching a glimpse of Feri. "And anyone who wants to come with us too," I quickly added in.

"Yes, but—" Shang sighed and turned to face me. "There’s a problem."

Of course there is! My face didn’t change in it’s expression; it was the expected outcome, and reacting took too much energy. I just waited for what he had to say.

"Hrn, the problem is that the basement is also where most of the guards are. They have a small cafeteria down there, and that’s where most of the night guards gather when it’s not their shift."

"So what?" a high pitched voice spoke up from behind me. Rin was standing at my elbow, and she crossed her arms impatiently. "We took care of the guys here no problem! Why do we have to worry about a couple more guys we can easily handle?"

"The problem, Rin, is that these guys might alert more guards to come help them. Or worse, they draw in the city guards." The Dog Beastkin took a deep breath, his lips pressed into a thin line, and shook his head. "We’ll have to be very careful. Move silently and in the shadows. Take out any guards we see as quickly as possible, and stay away from anyone we don’t need to mess with."

"Nn, sounds complicated."

"Rin, I’m being serious right now."

"I know you are. That’s why it’s complicated."

"Rin—"

"Nn, shut up! Of course I know that!" The Cat Beastkin sighed and slumped her shoulders. "I was just trying to lighten the mood. Jeez! Can we not be all doom and gloom right now, and just worry later once this is all over?"

"I— fine," Shang resigned the issue to the catgirl, and turned to face me. "Young Melas, please stick close to Rin. She may not act it, but she’s an incredibly skilled fighter."

I met the Dog Beastkin’s eyes, and nodded my head. "Yes," that was all I said.

"And Rin," the man spoke to his companion, resting a hand on the catgirl’s shoulder. "Make sure you protect her."

"Nn. I will."

There was no more joking or bantering around; the Cat Beastkin spoke simply and with certainty. It was like the gravity of the situation was finally sinking into everyone’s minds. We hugged the walls and silently made our way down the stairs as a sense of dread— the uncertainty of what the next few hours will bring about— hung in the air between. I felt my hands trembling, shaking with an anxiety I had never felt in my previous life. Calm down, I tried to tell myself that, but the feeling never went away.

Slowly and quietly, we crept down towards the corridor that led to the basement with the other slaves. Rin peeked her head over the corner, while Shang sniffed the air and kept an ear out for any noise; the Cat Beastkin’s night vision let her see down the dark hallway, while the Dog Beastkin’s enhanced hearing and smell alerted him to anybody in the main room.

"All clear." The young woman threw a thumbs up back our way.

"I don’t smell anyone either. Not nearby, at least." Shang nodded in agreement, and turned to the rest of us. "Let’s go. Quietly."

The hallway was lined with doors on either side, with only sparse torchlight to illuminate it; Shang stood at the front of the group, alongside Feri who helped direct us through the corridor. There were a few intersections down the hallway, which would have forced us to split up if not for the young human man who just joined us.

We continued straight on the first hallway junction, and came across a ‘T’ intersection that we turned left on; we turned left again when we reached a corner, and left once more at the first side passage we came across. Finally, at the end of this hallway, there was a thick wooden door on the right side. It was the staircase leading down to the basement, and where Theodore and the rest were being held.

Shang pressed his ears against the door, and listened for a moment. After about a minute, he took a step back and looked at the rest of us.

"Well?" Rin stared at the Dog Beastkin expectantly.

"Hrn, it’s faint, but I hear a bit of noise. It’s difficult to make out. The walls and floors are too thick. But it’s like a distant sort of chatter and clamor. Not as rambunctious as a tavern in the middle of night, but something… similar."

Shang’s voice was deep, heavy, almost as if he was hinting at something; but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

All I knew was that whatever awaited us down there was something noisy, yet... unsettling. I felt a shiver go up my spine as all the possibilities flashed through my mind:

A man was lying on the ground covered in bruises. He was frail and looked past his prime. His face was covered in blood, and as he looked up at me I recognized him.

It was Theodore.

And he was beaten for trying to stop something. A guard had battered him for getting in his way, and now there was no one to stop him.

The guard stood over a young woman, his clothes hanging loosely off him, and—

I felt my stomach lurch, and steadied myself. I stared at the wooden door right in front of me, ignoring my imagination; beyond it laid an infinite number of possible scenarios, each one worse than the one before. I did not know what it was going on down there, nor did I want to know.

But I knew that, didn’t I?

I steadied myself. The door held in it not evil unimaginable— since it was an evil that was known— but instead, the possibility of freedom; I should behold it with anticipation, not fear.

I turned to Shang, and grinned.

"If they’re being that loud, and even you can barely hear it, then all the better for us. We don’t have to worry about being heard. But if—"

"If they have an alarm, then we’re screwed," Rin finished the sentence for me. The Cat Beastkin met my gaze, and I saw her eyes glinting like I had never seen them before. She said, "Nn, but that just means we have to be quick."

The young woman spun around, and faced the rest of the group. "We go in, and go in fast. Take them out before they even realize we’re there. No need for subtlety or sneaking around. Do not spare a single life, got it?"

She looked around at the nodding faces, and smiled. She looked hungry; as if she had been waiting for this moment for ages. And perhaps it had been ages. She had been locked up for months by the Mancis Company, unable to do anything but sit around and chat. Plus, Beastkin have a slightly shorter lifespan than humans.

Relatively speaking, she has been waiting for quite a while; and now is the time to go all out. Not just for her, but for all of them.

The door creaked open, and one by one the Beastkin went in; Shang led the way, followed by a Rabbit Beastkin, and then the others. I saw all of their faces as they funneled in through the door, and they were ready.

One of the last to go was Feri. The young man held back, whether it was out of fear or for some other reason, I did not know. But the man went down, and I followed after him. Rin walked beside me, and she held my hand as we went down the spiral stairway; it was not a long way down, perhaps only 40 steps before we reached the basement.

At the bottom of the stairs, we were met with a set of wooden double doors. Muffled noises were escaping out from the other side, barely audible enough for me to pick out a single sound to decipher it. There was clearly a commotion going on beyond the double doors, as a clamor of voices mixed into an incomprehensible mess. But suddenly, all at once, the voices collectively erupted into a cheer— like one you would hear when someone scored a touchdown in a football game, or a point in a basketball match— before returning to the previous hubbub after a moment.

Shang paused by the door, and checked back on us one last time. He then gave us a nod, and threw the doors open into the basement.

They swung open, and inside I saw a large room. It was not as big as the main hall of the warehouse, but it was at least half its size. Long tables and benches were strewn about the room, organized into rows similar to the ones you see in a high school cafeteria.

Around the center, tables and chairs were pushed aside to create a small open space: four tables were used to form a box in the middle of this area, with about four dozen guards crowded around it in a circle.

Two men were standing in the enclosed space, fighting each other. For less than a second, I thought that the guards had set up a makeshift boxing ring for themselves to brawl in, but I quickly dismissed the thought. It was not for them, but for slaves.

The two men were dressed in tattered clothes, and had chains tied around their ankles. They were bloodied and battered, and yet they still fought on. They heaved and wheezed with every punch thrown, and their movements were sluggish, as if they had been fighting non-stop for half an hour. And perhaps that was the case.

It was a terrible thing: to be forced to fight in a blood sport just for the entertainment of others. And yet, for some reason I was relieved.

I was glad that the worst of my imaginations didn’t come true, even though this was arguably just as terrible. I knew I should not have felt this way, but I did.

It was probably a preconceived notion I had from my world; rape was one of the greatest sins in my point of view. It was something unforgivable— robbing the free will of another, and violating them for your own pleasure. It was disgusting.

But, and the thought crossed my mind, is what’s happening here not the same?

Was evil really just evil? Should I even compare two different acts of evil, and weigh them against each other? Was that even necessary? I did not know. And now was not the time for any of these philosophical questions; it was the time for justice.

Shang and the others saw the same scene I did, and they immediately began moving. Whether it was because they wanted to put an end to such an abhorrent display, or because they took this as an opportunity to act while the guards were distracted, I did not know.

But they moved. And they were fast.

It was not like a scene from a movie where the main character slowly approached the first guy from behind: Shang did not tap the man on the shoulder, and waited for him to turn around before he threw a punch. In fact, Shang did not even throw a punch!

The Dog Beastkin ran up to the back of the crowd, and bit into the back of one of the guards. His fangs sunk deep into the man’s neck, instantly severing his spinal cord. The man collapsed to the ground and lay unmoving.

At the same time, a Rabbit Beastkin threw a flying knee at another man. The back of his skull caved in like it was made of papier-mâché. A blood curdling scream erupted from the back of the man’s throat which finally alerted everyone else in the room as to what was happening.

All eyes turned away from the brawl at the center of the room, and to the back of the crowd. But the guards still did not know what was happening: they were in too much shock!

Their reaction time was slow and sloppy. By the time they broke out of their stupor— when the first guard drew his sword— half a dozen of them were already lying on the ground. Some were dead. The others were too incapacitated to act.

Shang grabbed a sword from the guard he took down, and stabbed at the next closest man. The man stepped back, and drew his own weapon. The guard lifted his sword up—

And his hand was gone. Missing. Detached from the rest of his arm.

His hand and sword went flying as Shang swiftly sliced up at the man’s wrists. His eyes widened in shock, and he gripped his missing hand in pain.

The man opened his mouth to scream, only to find a sword buried down his throat. He fell to the ground, dead in an instant. Shang drew his sword back, and turned to engage two oncoming attackers.

At the same time that happened, Beastkin charged and leapt into the crowd. They tore into the lines of panicked guards with the ferocity of a pack of wild beasts. They were like animals!

A Dog Beastkin— not Shang— ran up to all fours up to a panicked guard. He was desperately fumbling to draw his pistol, but he was too slow. The Dog Beastkin lunged into the man, and began biting. He was tearing the man’s face off!

The man was screaming and trying to cover his face, but the Dog Beastkin continued biting. He ripped into the man’s face, as another guard ran over to help him.

The second guard raised his rifle, but a Rabbit Beastkin intercepted him. He was the one from earlier; the Rabbit Beastkin who ran in first with Shang.

The Rabbit Beastkin threw an axe kick, and snapped the rifle in two. The guard took a step back, and reached for a knife in his pocket, but the Beastkin advanced on him. The Rabbit Beastkin took a step forward, then raised his front knee up. With his back foot, he spun his body around, and snapped his front foot at the guard’s head.

The guard raised a hand to block the strike, but the Rabbit Beastkin was too strong. The roundhouse kick shattered the man’s elbow, and continued on unimpeded to the man’s head.

His head snapped back, and there was a crunch. The man fell straight back, not getting back up. His neck was broken from the force of the kick.

Immediately after, the Rabbit Beastkin took a step back. He crouched, placing one hand on the ground, then jumped.

He sprung forwards at another guard with a gun. He landed with both his legs extended on the man’s head. He quickly stomped twice: once to crush the man’s neck, and another to crush the pistol. Then he was off again.

He was targeting those with guns!

I looked around the battlefield, and saw the other Rabbit Beastkin. He was leaping from guard to guard, doing the same thing his friend was. He leapt over the fighting, searching to take down anyone with a gun. He turned, and saw gunshots flying over ten feet away, and jumped to his target, over the head of another Dog Beastkin.

The Dog Beastkin was wrestling with a guard on the ground. She was on top of him, trying to bite at the guard, but he had a dagger out.

The guard stabbed at the Dog Beastkin, and she pulled her head back. The man grinned as she snarled at him. However the man forgot about something. They had claws too.

The Dog Beastkin raised a hand, and cut at the man’s eyes. The man screamed as blood poured out of the sockets, and was quickly silenced as she ripped out his throat with a snap of her teeth.

Just beside them, a Cat Beastkin was tearing into the chest of a fallen guard. His claws were long and sharp, just like Rin’s, turning the guard into a bloody mess.

It was a bloodbath! The Beastkin were massacring their enemies like it was nothing. The guards had to have outnumbered them four-to-one. But they had already lost half of their numbers.

Meanwhile, not a single Beastkin had died yet. Some were injured, but they continued fighting. Only two fell back away from the battle, and that was because they were badly hurt by gunshots.

It was not fatal. At least, it did not look like it was fatal. But it was enough to force them to pull back.

Even still, the Beastkin were still slaughtering the guards; it had only been a minute, but it was such a beat down that it looked like it was going to be over soon. And that’s without Rin.

The thought made me turn to the one person not joining in on the fighting. Well, the one Beastkin, at least, since Feri was watching from the side too. His eyes were wide open, staring at the slaughter before him. It looked like a dozen emotions were flowing through him right now; shock, fear, joy, but most of all— amazement.

He was amazed by the display of the Beastkin; the way they were utterly crushing his lifelong oppressors had to have instilled in him a sort of admiration for the Beastkin. But not for me.

Don’t get me wrong, I liked Shang and Rin and the others. They were my friends. But the brutality of it all was too much for me; the main reason— the real reason— why I turned away, was because I could not stand to watch it.

At the beginning, I forced myself to watch what happened. I was not sure whether my friends would survive; I had to bear witness to it.

But now that I knew they were fine, I could turn away without any guilt in my heart. There was no weight on my shoulders bearing down on me, telling me that if my friend died, I was not even there to see it.

But what did seeing even do? It did not change anything— seeing would not have let me save Shang if he was about to die. And yet, seeing changed everything too.

After witnessing the bloodbath unfold before my very eyes. As I saw my friends killing so easily. And as I looked at Rin, and saw her smiling at the violent scene; as her face resonated a desire to join in. Everything changed.

It was just my perception of it all, and yet that was the most important part; the world did not revolve around me, but I experienced the world through my own eyes.

And it was through my own eyes I stared at Rin’s excitement, and felt a hint of fear creep up my stomach. But why?

Because Rin and I saw the same thing: ruthless killings and bloody murder. They were killing slavers, but my stomach wretched and I had to stop myself from puking. But she smiled and watched it gleefully.

I looked at her standing next to me, yet it was like there was a huge rift separating the two of us; I was almost afraid of her. I nearly jumped when she finally opened her mouth to speak.

"It’s over," the catgirl’s voice was soft, like a whisper. She turned to me and smiled gently. "You can look now."

Her voice and face were kind; I was certain she noticed my aversion and revulsion to the violence, and meant to reassure me. I turned away and faced the cafeteria. Stop it, Melas. They’re your friends, I tried to calm myself down, and realized my hands were shaking.

I was no longer holding Rin’s hands; I didn't even know when I let go. I wandered past the dead bodies in a daze, and headed in the direction Feri pointed at.

At one point, I tripped over a severed arm. I let out a silent scream, and quickly ran past it. Didn’t I want this? The thought vaguely hung at the back of my head; but I could not focus on it.

I moved mechanically; like a machine designed for one thing and one thing only: to set the other slaves free.

I walked up to the metal door Feri directed me to, and fumbled for the keys. I unlocked the door and swung it open. Light poured into the room, and I stared in.

Dozens of figures sat up in the room, awake from the prior sounds of battle. All their eyes turned to me, and I stared back.

I tried to muster up something to say; to announce their freedom, or something to that degree, but found no words inside of me.

After a moment, a lone figure stood up. A disheveled middle aged man approached me from the staring group of slaves. It was Theodore.

It was counterintuitive, but from his gaze, I saw a semblance of normalcy. A kind older man, who lived a simple life— a world free from all of this misery and death, until tragedy struck.

It reminded me of myself; our circumstances might have differed, but the outcome was the same. And I felt a kinship with the man, knowing that I was not alone in how I felt.

It was welcoming.

"Melas—"

I ran in and hugged him.

It took us an hour before we were ready to leave. Unshackling everyone one by one— even when there were multiple keys for us to use— took some time.

In addition to that, the freed Human slaves went to arm themselves with the weapons from the dead guards. Some of the Beastkin did too, like Shang, but Rin happily let the others take what they wanted.

Finally, the injured Beastkin— the ones who got hurt during the fight— raided some of the storage rooms. They grabbed some healing potions, and distributed it amongst themselves; they used some immediately, and kept the rest for future use.

I was no stranger to seeing violence in fiction back on Earth, but repeatedly seeing it again and again in reality was different. I just wanted to get out of here; I no longer wanted to deal with death and slavery. I just wanted to get away from it all.

But what about your revenge? a thought reminded me of my declaration to the world, and of my grand quest.

It was something simple to think about: the idea of inflicting pain upon those who hurt me was a lot more captivating when I was fueled by anger and rage. But when I was simply watching it happen, I suddenly found myself taking on a whole new perspective.

I still believed that these slavers deserved to die. I believed they deserved their retribution by the hands of Rin and Shang. Yet, I still found myself averse to the action of killing them myself. And that was almost a problem.

If we found ourselves in a situation where I, too, had to fight or die, would I simply freeze and let death take me again? I felt my heart rate pick up as my imagination took over, and I foresaw my failure. I did not want to let that happen, but would I even be in the right state of mind to act if such a scenario occurred?

I sighed. There’s no use worrying about it now. Focus back on what’s important. We’re almost out of here.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Theodore discussing something with Rin and Shang; they probably were talking about me and how they were going to take care of me from this point on. They probably realized that I couldn’t stomach the sight of death, nor could I look at them the same way after witnessing such ruthlessness, and were thinking of ways to keep me away from seeing possible altercations in the future.

They probably thought I hated them now, but I did not. Not Shang, or Rin, or any of the Beastkin. I was grateful for what they did for me; I was just a little afraid of what they were capable of.

When they were done conversing with Theodore, Shang and Rin broke off to guide the others, while the older man approached me. I slowly looked up to face Theodore. The middle aged man reached out, and offered me a hand. There were no words exchanged— not just yet.

He helped me up, and steadied me as I got a hold of myself. I bowed my head at him, thanking him, and he smiled back. He simply met my gaze.

It was then I remembered the mark on my face; the symbol of the Mancis Company, claiming me as theirs. I remembered how he flinched when he saw it, and felt like covering it up.

But Theodore did not look away. He just looked at me, and finally he spoke.

"Let’s go."

I stared at him dumbly, meeting his face that showed not a hint of fear; it was only when we left the room, did I realize he had spoken.

His words were short. Succinct. Something to just fill the air, and ease into a proper conversation for later. And it worked.

As we emerged from the stairway, out into the dimly lit corridor, Theodore spoke again.

"When we first met, I thought you reminded me of my daughter. I told you that, didn’t I?" The middle aged man’s grip tightened around my hand at the mention of his daughter. He took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled. "But now, I think you remind me more of myself." He chuckled slightly.

I stared fixedly at Theodore, as we continued on our path. We turned a corner as he glanced heavenward at the ceiling, as if in thought.

"Well, a younger, less-wrinkly, version of me," he added in lightly.

I snorted. It was not even a good joke; in fact, it was a terrible one. Just as bad as any dad-joke my dad would tell me!

And perhaps that’s what made it so funny. A sense of normalcy; not even like banter with its jabs at another person. Just something lighthearted and simple.

His voice then turned more serious, and his smile was replaced with a longing look.

"Over a month ago, you told me that you believed that it’s not been all bad. That there is a silver-lining to all this. Back then, I didn’t believe you." Theodore shook his head, and took a deep breath. "I didn’t believe that the Goddess would plan for any of this. It was all just so terrible."

I nearly froze at the mention of the Goddess. But I caught myself, and continued walking inconspicuously. The man continued.

"But now, I think I’m starting to understand a little bit of Her plan. I was not able to help my daughter or my wife." His face was morose. The death of his family was still haunting him. And yet, when he finally turned to face me, he spoke with a determination that I truly envied, "But maybe I could help you. Even just a little. Maybe that’s what the Goddess wants. For a pure soul such as you to not suffer."

I looked up at Theodore. At the middle aged man. And I felt his pain. Yet despite all that, he still could say this.

It felt wrong. The idea that he lost his family just so he could meet me— no, it was wrong.

But it gave him hope, a voice inside of me argued.

His faith in the Goddess— his belief that all his suffering was not for naught— it spoke to me. Perhaps… if I…

"It is like you said: the Goddess has a plan for us all," Theodore said, the words echoing in my head.

I wanted it. I wanted to have his hope. To cling on to something where I had none. He had faith in the Goddess so he could find light in his life. And so, out of desperation— and out of suffering— I willingly uttered the curse that was repeated throughout the world.

"May the Goddess illuminate our lives."

I smiled at Theodore, and it immediately disappeared. The older man stopped too— everyone did.

It was almost as if the world itself heard me speak, and decided to play some sort of sick joke on me. My infinitesimally small faith in the Goddess vanished, and I finally realized that if She did exist, She simply hated me for I hated Her world.

Because in front of us stood Marcus.

The head guard of the Mancis Company stood at the entrance of the warehouse, blocking our exit. He was not alone. Behind him were a hundred guards, all armed with weapons of all kinds pointed in our direction.

"How—" the words came from more than one source behind me

The crowd of guards parted, and from the back emerged a man dressed in a fancy suit and a cane. Julian Mancis walked alongside two men. Two slaves. The ones with Feri, I thought, heart sinking at the realization of a betrayal. Or perhaps it was my own folly that led to this.

"I’m sorry, Feri. But you would have died. This way you would—" one of them spoke out, but was silenced by Julian.

The owner of the Mancis Company raised his hand. "Yes, we will ensure nothing happens to your… friend." He then stepped forward to address us all.

"Once again, I find you lot futilely trying to escape. Never in my entire life as a businessman, have I had merchandise as troublesome as you all. So for that, I do applaud you."

He cast his gaze around our group, and nodded his head. He took a deep breath, and his voice emanated authority.

"However, you have also caused me a lot of trouble. And for that I’ll have to punish some of you."

Julian lifted his cane, and pointed at Shang.

"You."

Shang blinked, but Julian just moved one. He pointed at a Rabbit Beastkin, another Dog Beastkin, two Humans, and finally at the man standing beside me: Theodore.

"You. You. You. And you," Julian said, before finally lowering his cane, and nodding to himself. "All of you shall be killed and made an example of. So that there will be no more… issues."

Shouts of outrage came from multiple people. Shang stepped forward, and barked at the slaver.

"If you really think we’ll just—"

"You really should just surrender. Do believe me. It pains me as much to kill you, as it does for you to be killed," the slaver spoke without a hint of irony in his voice. "I’ve already alerted the city guards. They’ll be here at any moment. You’ll all die if you fight back. Give. Up."

Shang hesitated, and even Rin was left without any quips. It was all over. Our grand plan to escape was ruined. Foiled by my kindness to two foolish slaves.

Everyone knew it was over. Perhaps we could fight. But we would lose in the end; it was a pointless fight that we could not win.

But something happened.

In the distance, bells began to ring. The city guards mobilized as the alarm was raised, and was echoed throughout the city.

"The city alarm? They did not have to—"

Julian turned around, then paused.

It was not just him. We all did. Everyone stopped and stared at the city walls.

To the west, there were hundreds of gunshots being fired from the battlements of the walls and from below it. Bolts of blue energy flew back and forth at something on the walls. A figure, barely visible in the distance, ran vertically down the inside of the walls of Bys. At the dead of night, such a small and dark figure usually would not be seen from where we were.

But each bolt of gunfire told us where to look. It shone in the darkness, shedding some light at the hooded figure. But even more important was what the figure was doing; a person could not physically run down a wall because they would fall. Not unless they had magic.

And magic they had.

With each step the figure took, a magic circle appeared. The magic circle glowed yellow, and had a radius of about six foot. They ran down the walls with that magic, and dodged the oncoming bullets with ease.

The figure looked like they had their hands raised the entire time, as if they were casting another spell. And if it was a spell, it was not meant for their attackers or to defend themself.

They continued bobbing and weaving as the bolts of energy rained down past them. The figure spun and danced in the moonlight, as if they were in a waltz with no partner but the incoming hail. Finally, the figure was finished casting their spell. They crouched for a split second, and in an act that defied gravity once more, they leapt off the wall.

The figure flew at least 30 feet away from the walls; spinning and dodging the barrage of bullets mid air. Then, when the figure was about to land, they pointed their hands at the gates of the walls.

With that, their spell was complete. A large black magic circle covered the gate, before quickly shrinking in size to a mere speck. And for a second, nothing happened.

Then, from the center of the circle, from where the speck of a magic circle was, a massive ball of green and black energy quickly expanded into a sphere that engulfed the gate.

Everything that the sphere touched was obliterated, and it stayed like that for a moment. However, that moment ended, and the sphere erupted into a massive explosion that blew apart the surrounding walls and all nearby houses.

The walls were gone. Collapsed. And beyond it was a void of darkness that stared into the city.

Everyone— Shang, Julian, Theodore, Rin; both slaves and slavers alike— stared dumbstruck at the sudden destruction of the city walls. No one moved. No one made a sound.

I gazed at their expressions. At the look of shock at such utter devastation that occurred out of nowhere. And I almost wanted to laugh.

I knew this would happen; well, not this specifically. But I knew something would happen. Because—

Because if there is a powerful Goddess that hates me, then there is an equally powerful god who hates me more.

And perhaps I had been arrogant. I dared to challenge god, even when I was only Human. I wanted to defy him. I wanted to exact vengeance upon him.

But he had finally responded to my petty resolve.

I stared as from beyond the walls of Bys, the first abomination stepped out of the darkness. The first of many. Creatures not of this world. Beings made of nightmares and the primal feeling of horror. Hatred incarnate.

These abominations came for the city. The Slave City. And that night...

The Free City of Bys was destroyed.

Chapter 21: Abominations

The Free City of Bys had seen many conflicts in its time. Unlike Boleria, which was a city that focused mainly on trade and commercial businesses, Bys was a city of slavery. As such, Bys would often get into conflicts with other Free Cities, enslaving the prisoners of war for free labor.

It had gotten into conflicts with not just other cities within Besha, but brought it up against the most prominent of cities in the Free Lands. And though it had not won all those wars, it had won some of them. And that was enough. It had worked out for the Free City.

Over a century ago, Bys had finally established itself to be one of the pinnacle cities of the Free Lands. It went against the, then, Free City of Colynas, and won. In their victory, Bys razed the city to the ground, and enslaved its entire civilian population, earning it its name as the Slave City.

But those were wars from times gone by.

In modern times, the Free City of Slaves had not been idle either. Just three decades ago, Bys was a part of the unified force that fought off the Holy Xan Empire’s invasion into the Free Lands. The Alliance of Free Cities had won that war, if only for the Xan Empire’s thin supply lines from fighting a war across the world.

And even more recently were the petty squabbles between Bys and the Free Cities that made up the Chalstics Confederacy. Apparently they were still upset over what happened with Colynas so long ago!

Without a powerful city in their region, the cities in the Chalstics region were being trampled over by the other Free Cities. So they formed a confederation to protect themselves and each other. But even a hundred years later, they still held a grudge against Bys in specific.

These were the relatively recent wars and conflicts that the Free City of Bys found itself faced with. And David had been through most of them.

When he was a young man, David had been conscripted to fight in the Free War during the Xan Empire’s invasion. And when Bys won, he did not retire from the military, but instead continued fighting for his city.

He later found himself fighting against the Chalstics Confederacy, and continued to work his way up the ranks. He had loyally served his country, and was rewarded for it.

David was promoted to a Guard Captain!

Sure, he was only in charge of the western part of the city. And sure, it could be both dull and tiresome at the same time. But at least the pay was good!

And it’s not like guarding the city got dangerous at all! Well, that was what David used to think.

"What are you doing, you idiots? Fire!"

The Guard Captain bellowed at his men. Bolts of blue energy flew up at the walls, but none of them hit their target. David gritted his teeth in frustration, and yelled again.

"What is wrong with you?! It’s only one person! Just kill them already!" He pointed at the lone cloaked figure running along the walls. Hundreds of bullets were flying at the person, and yet they elegantly danced their way through the hail of fire.

That should not have been possible. There were so many bullets. The sounds of gunfire nearly drowned out the ringing of the bells! But the figure evaded them all.

And yet, that was not the only impossible thing the figure was doing. They were running across the walls!

Normally, such an act would be unbelievable. But with magic, it was doable. And that was what the cloaked figure was using. Magic.

David walked up to the nearest guard, and snatched the rifle out of his hand. "Give me that!" he spat as he spoke.

The Guard Captain turned back to the walls of Bys. He saw the fast moving target running along the walls, and carefully aimed. "Now I’ve got you, you filthy heretic." Once he was locked on to the figure, he pulled the trigger—

And the figure was not there. They were gone, like the wind.

David watched as his bullet impacted the brickwork of the walls and nothing more. The shooting from the ground stopped, and David scanned the walls for their target to no avail.

But the firing continued from the battlements. The Guard Captain cast his gaze in the direction of the bullets. He saw the figure flying midair, with nothing but the silver moon behind them.

The cloaked figure pointed a finger at the direction of the city gates. And for a moment, all was nothing. Then, the figure vanished.

David blinked as he stared at the empty space where the figure once was. Out of the corner of his eyes, he saw a dark green light emanate from the gates of Bys.

He turned to the source of the light, and for a second, he saw a green and black sphere where the gates of Bys should have been. But once he fully made the turn, the Guard Captain was met with a massive explosion that blew apart the walls and surrounding buildings.

The blast sent him and the other nearby guards flying back at least ten feet. The Guard Captain felt his back slam into a concrete wall that was still intact. He had barely survived!

Out of virtue from being just outside the blast radius, David had survived. However, he was not unscathed.

David felt warm liquid pouring out the side of his head, and realized he had burst an eardrum. He had cuts and bruises on his arms and legs too, but other than that, he was mostly fine.The Guard Captain steadied himself as he got up, and looked at the devastation caused by the lone figure.

A pile of rubble was all that remained of the gate that had been hit by the spell. An entire section of the wall had been blown apart, and a large plume of smoke covered the area like a blanket.

He looked around, and saw a dozen other guards slowly getting to their feet. The Guard Captain dusted himself off, and barked at his men.

"Get up," he coughed as dust entered his lungs, "you idiots."

David felt for the sword on his waist, checking if it was still there. It was. But instead of drawing it, he bent down and picked up the rifle at his feet instead. Now where did that—

The Guard Captain scanned the cloud of smoke that stood where the walls once were. He saw nothing, and heard only the groans of the survivors lost in the rubble. This was a disaster!

It had been such a bad day for David. First, he woke up in the morning to an earful from his wife over their finances. Apparently, she did not like how he kept spending nights gambling, even though he had such a stressful job as of late!

And in the afternoon, a small horde of monsters attacked the walls trying to get into the city. Then, in the evening, he had to punish one of his guards for messing around while inspecting slaves brought in from the Mancis Company. That was inappropriate behavior, especially considering the influence Julian Mancis had in the city.And now, late at night, when he had been enjoying himself at a brothel—

This.

The old man paused and thought to himself, Perhaps it’s time to retire. He was grateful for his job, for sure. But it was not nearly as exciting as fighting in the frontlines of a battle. He could just remember the thrill he got whenever he—

The Guard Captain’s thoughts were interrupted by a scream. A piercing shriek of agony came from the wall of smoke.

David snapped his rifle to the direction of the sound as it slowly faded away. The guards around him were on alert now, too. He was just about to order one of them to check on what happened, when another scream came. And another.

And another.

And another.

A cacophony of screams came from inside the smog that covered David's vision. It mixed together in a symphony if the choir was a disorganized mess that shrieked over each other, while the violins played off tune to the pleasure of no one, and the pianist smashed all the keys at once to the tune of a nail on chalkboard.

So, it was not like a symphony at all. It was a terrible echo of death that sent a chill down the Guard Captain’s spine. It continued on for a minute, then silence.

"Captain—" someone started from behind him.

The Guard Captain raised a hand, shutting up the guard that spoke. He carefully aimed down his rifle, and whispered.

"Something’s coming."

And as if his words were some sort of trigger, something came.

Out of the dark clouds ahead, a figure emerged. It looked humanoid in shape at first. It walked on two legs, and had two arms, like any ordinary person. And that was why the Guard Captain did not shoot.

But as the figure got closer, David saw that it had a hunch. Not only that, but one of its arms was much larger than the other. It was as though it had disproportionately large biceps reaching all the way down to its hands.

The figure moved faster and faster as it got closer, and David realized the ‘bicep’ did not just go down its arm. Large bulbous protrusions came out from the thing’s chest and face. It also glowed.

The figure sprinted out of the smoke, no longer being just a shadow in the cloud, and David finally got a good look at it. It had the body of a Human. It had the arms and legs of a Human. It had the face of a Human. But it was not Human. Large lumps of some sort of dark blue bumps swelled throughout half of the Human’s body. It was growing out of the person like some sort of fungus. And at the center of these bulbs was a luminescent yellow core, which shone at an ever changing intensity.

The figure emerged from the ruins of the walls, and along with it came a horrific screech. Like a thousand tiny high pitched screams came out at once. It uttered its battle cry, and ran out at the small retinue of guards.

It was an abomination.

David had never seen such a thing before, but the former soldier did not hesitate. He pulled the trigger on his rifle, and fired two shots at the thing.

The blasts splashed across the Abomination’s chest, but it continued running. It did not even stagger! It absorbed the impact like it was nothing.

The Guard Captain loosed another shot. And another. Five. Six. Seven. He aimed for the chest. The head. The legs. Anything—

The fourth shot actually rocked the creature, and the fifth brought it down. However, the Abomination continued crawling towards them, and so the fifth finally killed it. The sixth and seventh was just fired as a precaution.

David wiped a sweat off his brow, and stared at the Abomination. What was that? He had fought all kinds of monsters before, but he had never seen anything like that.

The Guard Captain shook those thoughts off his head. First, he had to reprimand his men—

David froze half turn. Out of the corner of his eye, more shadows appeared in the smoke. He spun back around slowly, and looked in horror. He did not have to shout to get his men’s attention, because what they saw broke them all out of their stupor.

Hundreds— no, thousands of figures moving in the shadows. So many tiny little specks in the distance. But slowly getting larger.

"Goddess grace us." David did not remember uttering the words, but he did.

He lifted up his rifle, and along with his dozen other men, began firing blindly into the storm looming in on them.

Inhuman screams erupted from the darkness, and out came the Abominations. There were so many of them!

The Guard Captain kept firing at the oncoming targets. At all the Abominations. And they were not just Humans.

David saw monsters with the same blue-yellow bulbous cores sticking out of them, mixed in with the Humans. He was not sure if there were animals too. He could’ve sworn he saw a goat at one point.

But it did not matter.

He kept firing and firing into the oncoming mass of Abominations. People, monsters, animals, all disfigured into such horrific creatures.

And they did not fall easily too.

It took only four or five shots to down a single one of them. That might not seem like a lot, but it was still too much! The Guard Captain threw down his gun, as he saw the man next to him get overwhelmed by the Abominations. He drew his sword, and touched the small red mana crystal on it.

A fiery red glow overcame his sword, creating a second edge to his blade. This red aura began vibrating in place, as though it was spinning quickly around the sword, and David readied himself for the coming Abominations.

He saw a Human-Abomination charge at him. It was no faster than a regular Human. But as it approached, it changed.

The dark blue bulbs that reached down its arm shifted. The pulsating yellow core glowed brighter than it did before, as the blue mass formed a shape. A vague outline of a… sword?

It was like the arm became a sword. A very rough sword, with a mildly sharp edge. But a sword nonetheless.

The Human-Abomination swung at the Guard Captain, and he stepped to the side. The creature was mid turn, when David brought down his sword at its head. Its head flew off, and the Abomination collapsed. Dead.

Another Abomination ran at him, and the Guard Captain slashed horizontally this time. He went under the oncoming strike, swiftly slicing the Abomination in two, killing it instantly.

He stood back up, only to be immediately met by another Abomination. It swung at him. The Guard Captain parried the attack with his sword, cleanly cutting through the Abominations arm.

He only paused to blink for a split second, then swung madly at the Abomination. It was like cutting butter! His ‘chainsaw’ blade was certainly supposed to him cut through armor better, but not as easily as this! David quickly disposed of the Abomination, then another. And another.

David was laughing maniacally as he killed a Chimera-Abomination, when a large shadow appeared in the smoke. A looming figure that stood as tall as the walls, and wider than a house. It was a single mass that dwarfed over everyone on the battlefield, even while in the dark clouds.

He only had a second to take in the figure, when something shot out of the smoke. A dark blue tendril was sticking out of his chest. No, it was sticking into his chest.

The Guard Captain felt a sharp pain go through his body, and barely managed to utter a scream as the tendril pulled him into the smoke. Into oblivion.

The remaining guards saw this. They saw their Captain crying out in agony as he was killed by a large figure. They saw the large figure emerge along with an army of Abominations. They—

They ran.

The guards threw down their weapons, screaming as they fled the walls. But there was nowhere to run.

The Abominations came for them. For the city of Bys. They emerged from the smoking debris of the walls.

From the abyss.

From the void.

From a God.

***

I felt the shockwave reverberate through the ground as the green blast destroyed the gates of Bys. I looked on in horror at the Abominations that came pouring out of the fallen walls of the city. It was a calamity!

So much death. So much destruction. I felt a shiver go through my spine as I stared at the chaos in the walls; it was not just me, everyone stared. All of us were stunned— like statues frozen in time, forever forced to watch the destruction ahead.

All of us except for a certain Cat Beastkin.

Rin saw the opportunity present itself— the unmoving guards and slavers— and she took it; the catgirl dashed forwards in a blur, straight at Julian. The owner of the Mancis Company barely turned around in time to see a clawed hand coming at him.

"No—" the words escaped his mouth, as he lifted his cane too slowly.

He’s going to die.

My thoughts were quickly proven wrong, as someone tackled the old man to the side, taking the blow for his boss. Marcus rolled his shoulder, blocking the strike with his gardbrace.

The mana crystal on his armor glowed as the Cat Beastkin’s claws struck Marcus. There was a brief flash of light, and an aura of energy flickered around the man for a moment. The head guard of the Mancis Company stepped back, his shoulders bloody from the attack.

Rin grinned and flicked the blood of her claws. She took a step forward, but Marcus was faster. The man did a quick draw of his flintlock pistol, firing a large red bolt of energy at the Cat Beastkin. She dodged to the side, and the bolt of energy exploded on the catwalk overhead.

The metal railing holding up the catwalk was obliterated, collapsing parts of the catwalk around me; I ducked my head, and felt myself getting picked up. Theodore grabbed me off the ground, getting away from the falling iron bars clanging onto the ground.

The middle aged man held me under my arms, dashing for cover by the crates along the sides of the room. I watched the room erupt into chaos, as slaves and slavers clashed with one another in battle.

Shots were fired from both sides, and screams came from every direction; it was not just the Beastkin fighting, but the other Human slaves armed with whatever they had charged into the battlefield. But even then, we were outnumbered more than two-to-one.

Marcus drew his scimitar, but Rin was no longer there. The Cat Beastkin was dodging gunfire coming from the hundred other guards in the room, but she was too quick. She was fast. Inhumanly so.

She dove into a group of three guards, all of which had their swords and spears out. The catgirl held out her claws at the small group, and spun. All three guards collapsed to the ground, clutching at their chests, neck, and legs, as blood leaked out of their wounds. It was only a moment, but Rin was already charging at another group of armed guards.

Everywhere the Cat Beastkin went, limbs went flying. She left a trail of blood and gore behind her, as she slaughtered the guards around her. She dodged the glowing blue bullets as they flew past her.

A large red bolt of energy came flying at her, and she took a step back. But the bolt was not meant for her.

The red ball of energy exploded at the ground before the young woman, sending her stumbling backwards. A man with a sword ran at her as she picked herself off the ground, only to find a sword sticking out the back of his head. The man collapsed to the ground, and Shang drew his sword back.

The Dog Beastkin nodded at his companion, and immediately was assaulted by two guards from the side. He grabbed a spear mid-thrust by its handle, snapping it in two with one hand. He elbowed the spearman, and parried the sword swing from the other man.

Shang redirected his blade from the parry, decapitating the spearman in an instant. The swordsman stepped back, but Shang charged at him, clashing blades.

The Dog Beastkin stuck out two fingers, and poked the man in the eyes. The man dropped his sword, clasping at his eyes in pain, when Shang ran him through his chest.

Rin watched this happen, and picked herself up. She cupped her hands around her mouth, taking a deep breath. "Hey Shang!" she yelled through all the fighting.

The Dog Beastkin’s ears perked at the sound. He turned to Rin, fighting four other guards coming at him as he shouted back.

"What? Can’t you see I’m a little busy?!"

"I know!" the Cat Beastkin said, rolled her eyes. She quickly ducked under a stray bullet, and stood back up. "I’m not an idiot. I can see that!" She shook a fist in the air.

"If you noticed, then hurry up"— Shang kicked a man onto another, and impaled the third— "and tell me what you want!"

"Ok! So there’s this really annoying guy with red hair, and I’m going to kill him. So I’ll leave you alone m’kay?"

"Yes! Go for it!"

"Nn, thanks!" The Cat Beastkin’s lips curled into a smile. She turned her head to the battlefield, scanning for Marcus. "Found you," she whispered to herself.

Across the warehouse, the head guard of the Mancis Company was escorting Julian out of the large entrance of the room. A small retinue of guards accompanied the two, heading for a car in the distance.

The Cat Beastkin began barreling her way towards the two. She covered half the distance in an instant, cutting down anyone in her way. But that attracted attention to her.

Marcus noticed Rin’s quick advance, and loosed another shot at her. It once again blew up on the ground before her, staggering the Cat Beastkin for others to attack her.

Rin could make no headway; every time she got a little closer, the head guard would slow her down, giving him the reprieve to further the distance again.

I watched helplessly from behind a wooden crate as the game of cat and mouse went on without end; Julian and Marcus were going to escape, and I could do nothing as they did.

No. I can do something! A realization crossed my mind, and I unclenched a fist I did not know I was making; I shifted my focus away from the Cat Beastkin, scanning the battlefield instead.

I looked around the large room, seeing death everywhere. I did my best to ignore a Cat Beastkin getting gunned down as he charged a group of guards with guns; to ignore a Dog Beast ruthlessly rip off the head of a guard with her fangs, baring her bloodied teeth at other guards coming at her; to ignore a Human slave bloodily wrestling with a guard on the ground, smashing each other’s heads on concrete and at each other.

My gaze swept across the room, and I saw Shang slash a guard across the chest. He sidestepped a man charging at him with a spear, and kicked him to the ground.

The Dog Beastkin was about to finish off the downed man, when a spray of bullets interrupted him. A guard holding a rifle unloaded shot after shot at Shang, who deflected each bolt.

Shang slowly made his way to the rifler, blocking and dodging the bolt of energy that came every second. Shang just came in range of the rifler, when someone grabbed him from behind.

It was the spearman from before.

He jumped on the back of the standing Dog Beastkin, wrapping his arms around his neck. They grappled for a second, with Shang trying to pull the man off his back.

The rifler saw his chance, and shot at Shang’s head. I watched my friend’s head snap back as the bullet came for his head. My heart dropped. But Shang just grinned.

The Dog Beastkin’s head slowly turned to the rifler, a savage grin spread across his face. He bared his fangs at the man. It was sizzling. Residual smoke was coming out from in between his canines.

The rifler panicked when he saw the Dog Beastkin standing and smiling at him. He fired more bullets, to which Shang simply turned his back to.

The blue bolts impacted the man grappling at Shang’s back, killing him and dropping him to the ground. With him gone, Shang dashed forward, closing the remaining distance between him and the rifler.

The rifler tried to step back, but he was too slow. Shang swung his sword up vertically, slicing both the man and his rifle in two. Blood splattered everywhere, and a pistol skidded across the floor at me.

I had to stop myself from gagging, but I quickly picked up the weapon and continued my search. Where are you? I paused briefly at Feri, who was taking part in the fighting.

The young man had found a rifle and was taking cover behind a wooden crate. He occasionally stuck his head out to shoot a few bolts, before ducking down from the returning fire. I shook my head and continued my search. Not him, I thought.

I saw fighting everywhere I looked; the sounds of metal clashing and screams echoing reverberated in my ears. But not everyone was fighting. Not all of the slaves had weapons, and those that didn’t were simply taking cover behind crates and boxes.

I glanced past Theodore. He was one of the non-combatants; the middle aged man was sitting next to me and clasping my hand tightly before I shrugged him off. I finally found the person I was looking for. There you are.

Across and to the right of the main hall, a Rabbit Beastkin hopped down from the catwalk on the second floor. He crashed down onto a group of guards, smashing the face of a man into the concrete.

A swordsman came up from behind him, swinging at the Rabbit Beastkin. He back flipped over the attacker, and leapt forward in a flying kick. The Rabbit Beastkin impacted the swordsman from behind, sending him flying back over ten feet.

He continued fighting the group of guards, and I stood up. I’ve... got this. I took a step forward, ignoring the cry from Theodore.

"Melas, what are you—"

I ran.

I dashed across the room through the battlefield, ducking under the stray bullets flying overhead, and jumping over the bodies that littered the floor. My right leg ached, but I could still move without much of an impediment. At one point, I slipped on a pool of blood, and fell face first into it. But I simply picked myself back up, and continued on my way.

By the time I made it to the Rabbit Beastkin, he was down to the last guard. I waited for him to dispose of his opponent, then called out to him.

"Hey! Hey you—" It was at this point I realized I never got his name.

I remembered speaking to him only a handful of times, the most recent of which was when we were clearing out the hallways after we just escaped. He told me that Rabbit Beastkin like him had nothing special, just that they could jump well; one look at the caved in skulls and dented metal told me that that was a lie.

But I already knew that; I had seen him in action down in the basement. I watched him lead the charge with Shang, and later on leap around the battlefield. I remembered that, and that was what gave me the idea.

"Need something?" the man asked as he hopped and landed next to me.

I stared at him, taking a good look of him for the first time. He had hazel eyes, and long blue hair that went down to his shoulders. His long bunny ears were not the floppy kind, but stood up straight at the top of his head.

He looked exhausted; he was covered in grime and gore, and he was breathing heavily. I felt bad asking for his help, but I forced myself knowing Rin was locked in a neverending chase right now.

"The head guard— Marcus— Rin is trying to get him."

The Rabbit Beastkin nodded his head. "You want me to help her?" he asked.

"No—" I panted out, tired from the short sprint I just did. "Just— distract him."

"Isn’t that the same thing?" The Rabbit Beastkin stared blankly at me.

I shook my head, and stood up straight. I pointed at the distant figures— at the occasional red blasts in the distance.

"His gun. It has a recharge time or something. That’s why he doesn’t just fire it constantly! If you just take away his attention for a couple seconds, Rin can reach him!"

The Rabbit Beastkin turned his head in the direction I was pointing; the fighting had spread to a courtyard just outside the warehouse, and that was where Marcus was. The Rabbit Beastkin turned back to me, hesitant—

But he resolved himself. He nodded at me, and spoke over the battlefield.

"Got it."

And then he jumped.

He leapt past all the fighting, out the entrance of the warehouse. I aimed my pistol, and fired at all the guards trying to shoot him. I was afraid of killing them— almost hesitant to shoot— but I pulled the trigger anyway. My trembling hands made me miss most of my shots, but I struck a man on the shoulders, causing him to drop his weapon.

The Rabbit Beastkin landed next to Rin, stopping only to give her a smirk, and bounded for the head guard. Marcus stared wide eyed at the flying figure coming at him. He rolled out of the way from the Rabbit Beastkin, as he landed and cracked the concrete with a flying axe kick.

The head guard whipped out his pistol, and sent a red bolt of energy to the Rabbit Beastkin. He saw it coming, and hopped over the large red light. But Marcus was not done.

Marcus dashed at the Beastkin, stabbing as he went. The Rabbit Beastkin sidestepped the attack. He circled around the head guard, sweeping at his feet.

But the head guard nimbly jumped over it. The Rabbit Beastkin saw this as an opportunity to follow up with an attack. Marcus was still midair when he threw another kick—

The Rabbit Beastkin had just extended his legs when glowing red chains engulfed him.

I watched in shock as Julian aimed his cane at the man, and bindings made of red energy shot out of it. It wrapped around the Rabbit Beastkin, ensnaring him, preventing him from moving.

No. I had a worried feeling in the pit of my stomach for a second. I lifted my pistol and tried to shoot, but I was too slow. In the next moment, my heart nearly jumped out of my chest: in one quick motion, Marcus decapitated the Rabbit Beastkin, instantly killing the man.

I wanted to scream. No, no—

I thought I was going to help Rin. I thought he’d only have to distract them! But I killed him. Nonononono—

I killed him. And I didn't even get his name.

I felt my knees give in to the weight of my body; I felt my mind go numb. I watched blankly as Rin reached the head guard of the Mancis Company.

No. Please no.

The Cat Beastkin swiped continuously at Marcus with her claws. He parried with a flourish of his blade. One. Two. Three—

Rin slipped inside of the man’s guard, and head butted him. Marcus’ armor flashed once again, but the aura of protection shattered under the weight of the blow.

The head guard stumbled back, the mana crystals on his armor broken. Falling to the ground in pieces. His face was bloody from the hit, but he still steadied himself and swung at Rin.

The Cat Beastkin sidestepped the attack, and ducked under the glowing red chains flying at her. She got back up, but was met with a punch to the face from Marcus. She reeled back back from the hit.

The head guard swung his scimitar at the staggered woman. But he was slower. Not enough to make a difference if he was attacking me, however enough of a difference for Rin to easily block the attack.

She parried hard, knocking the man’s hand to behind his back. With the other, Marcus tried to draw his pistol. But he was too slow.

His left shoulder had been injured by Rin earlier. And he was hurting from the head butt and constant fighting. All of this accumulated and took a toll on the man.

Marcus had just drawn his pistol, when Rin smacked it away with a clawed hand. His eyes widened as Rin swung for his head.

"Wait—" he barely got the words out.

But Rin did not care for what he had to say. He just killed one of her friends. So as the head guard of the Mancis Company cried out for mercy— as Marcus tried to plead for his life, where he had so easily taken many others— Rin simply stuck two clawed fingers into the man’s neck, and he froze.

Slowly, the Cat Beastkin withdrew her hand. Blood poured out of the holes in the man’s neck, and he collapsed. He was choking on his own blood. Gasping for air.

Marcus clutched at his neck, as though he was trying to force the blood back in. It did not work. He opened his mouth in a silent scream, but nothing came out. He fell.

Dead.

And perhaps in his last moments, he finally understood the fate of those he condemned to slavery; maybe, he knew what it was like to suffer and be helpless about it.

I watched it happen, and I realized I was walking forwards. I was in a trance as I made my way to Rin. And it was not just me.

I stared around the battlefield; the fighting had mostly subsided. Most of the guards were dead or fleeing. Running, now that their leader was dead.

We had won.

Yet, when I saw the price we had to pay; when I saw only Shang and two other Beastkin emerging from the warehouse; when I saw Theodore, Feri, and only a dozen other slaves behind them; when I saw all this, I did not feel elated.

I wanted to puke. That’s all.

I stared at Rin, and watched her lick the blood off her claws.

"Nn, serves you right…" the Cat Beastkin muttered to herself.

Then, a red light flew at her, wrapping around the young woman.

No! I stared in horror as the chains caught Rin off guard. The catgirl struggled as she fell to the ground.

"What—"

Julian Mancis. The owner of the Mancis Company and boss of Marcus. The man behind our slavery and suffering, stood behind Rin and lowered his cane.

"Well, it certainly seems like you’ve earned your freedom." he attempted to speak casually, but I could hear a hint of fear in his voice.

Shang saw this, and a guttural growl left his mouth. He took a step forward—

"Don’t," the old man warned, raising a gun.

It was a pistol. It looked similar to a flintlock pistol in my world. It was Marcus’ pistol. And he was aiming it at Rin.

"If you come any closer— if any of you comes closer— I will kill her. I might not be a good shot, but this is a good weapon. One of the best money can buy. Even if I miss by a foot, she’ll be dead."

Shang froze. So did everyone else. The old man saw this and nodded to himself.

"It really was expensive. I gifted it to Marcus for his loyalty throughout the years. Such a shame he’s dead now."

"Hrn, what do you want? You have already lost. We are not your slaves anymore." Shang spat at the old man.

Julian turned to the Dog Beastkin and met his stare.

"Yes," his voice trembling as he spoke the words. "Yes you are."

The old man slowly walked up to the Cat Beastkin lying on the ground, his gun trained at her head the entire time. He began to lament to himself.

"It’s just as I said. You’ve earned your freedom. You broke free from your cages, and killed every single one of my guards or sent them running. That is truly a feat that I’ve never witnessed before." he whispered quietly. His words, yearning. "That’s exactly what you did. You—"

The owner of the Mancis Company paused. He caught himself from lashing out, and took a deep breath. Then he lashed out.

"You took everything from me!"

I flinched at the unbridled fury directed at me. His voice boomed into the night, and each step he took sent a shiver up my spine.

"Everything I’ve worked for— everything I’ve built! You took it all from me! You… you... you filthy animals!"

No! the thought crossed my mind; I did not know why it did. It was a natural reflex. A response to something.

I watched as he finally reached his quarry. The old man picked Rin off the ground, as she struggled in the bindings that he caught her with.

"You’ve taken it all, so you can keep it!" Julian spat acidically.

No! No, no, no—

Venom rolled off of the old slaver’s tongue as he continued.

"But I’ll just take her instead."

I felt my heart stop moving. The world around me froze; darkness encroached on me, and I felt the entire world looming over me. At that moment, everything seemed so fragile.

But he was not finished.

Julian continued to back away with Rin in tow. He held a gun to her head, as he spoke his final words.

"After all, I need something to restart my life with. And she’s sure to fetch a good price—"

"NO!"

The words came out of my mouth as a shout. I had had enough of this; enough of feeling so useless; enough of seeing others suffer. I reached out with my hand—

And then, everything shattered.

Chapter 22: Deus Ex Machina

The world was vast. It always had been. But now, it loomed over me; so much more… full.

I stared at it all. Uncomprehending. I saw a lake lying before me. I saw my reflection on it; I stared at the me stuck inside the water. My mouth was moving, a word being uttered from my mouth.

"NO!"

I put a hand out, and reached. It was so calm. The water surface so... fragile. I had been afraid to reach out and touch it for so long, out of fear of being persecuted. But I had no other choice now.

A finger touched the image, and it broke.

The still water rippled; the lake finally distorted. The picture smashed into pieces. And nothing was ever the same. It just… shattered.

This illusion. The immersion. I broke out of it with the sounds of cracking. The echo of metal snapping. I was pointing. I didn’t even realize that I was pointing at something— that I was pointing at Rin.

The chains around the Cat Beastkin flickered. The red energy that kept it together was disrupted, then damaged.

There was a flash of light. Magic flowing through me, before the chains dispelled. The energy dispersed, sending a shockwave to everyone nearby. I only stumbled a little; I was standing a short distance away after all.

But Julian Mancis was not so fortunate. The owner of the Mancis Company was knocked off his feet; unharmed, but lying prone on the ground. The old man was dazed. He fumbled for his gun, but paused as he picked himself up. He was looking at me.

Julian’s eyes widened. His mouth held agape. He only managed to get a hold of himself for a second, and only managed to utter a single word, "You—"

Before a clawed hand smashed into his face. Rin bounded on top of the owner of the Mancis Company and began ripping the man apart. Julian screamed and yelled as the Cat Beastkin clawed her way into him. She tore at his face, his chest, his groin— every part of the man— as she ravaged the slaver.

Shouts of pure agony slowly dwindled into the occasional cry for help, before being reduced into the even more quiet, more subdued whimperings of a broken man— both mentally and physically.

Finally, when Rin was finished she grinned triumphantly to herself and turned around, standing over the dead Julian Mancis. She looked around confused for a second, when her eyes settled on me. Then she stopped moving.

That was when I realized nobody else was moving either; everybody had ignored the bloody murder of Julian. And they were all looking at me.

An explosion tumbled in the background, then the realization sunk in, and I felt my hands begin to tremble; my gaze caught on my outstretched hand, and my throat tightened.

"N-no."

A magic circle, about ten inches in length, dimly shone red on the tip of my hand. Well, it was less of a circle and more of a triangle, but it still had the complex patterns glowing within it. And everyone could see it.

The magic slowly faded, but the silence did not. A bead of sweat rolled off my head, and I slowly met everyone’s gazes.

They all just had a blank look on their faces. My eyes glazed over the other slaves, and I found my friends. Shang’s eyes were wide in shock, Feri confused, and Rin blinking. But then I saw Theodore.

I saw… fear.

The look of mortal terror— as if he were face to face with some sort of Monster. My heart was racing now. My breathing was short and rapid. My chest hurt, and my stomach ached. I was overwhelmed.

It was all too much for me.

The illusion had been shattered. They knew the truth now. That I was not just some random child. That I was actually a—

"Heretic."

The words came from somewhere. From someone. I did not know where. But like some sort of trigger, it spurred me to move.

No.

I… ran.

I did not know why I ran. My mind was a mess, and everything just screamed at me to go. I felt a sense of mortal peril and dread just from being there. But...

Would they have killed me there and then? Or would they have been understanding and kind?

I remembered Rin’s face. The Cat Beastkin was always so nice. So sweet. She never took anything seriously— even when she tried to be serious, she was always relaxed.

But I remember a different side of her too. I saw her kill so easily. I watched her take lives like it did not matter; she just brutally murdered a man in front of me. Wasn’t I right to be afraid of her?

Shang too. They were Hunters. They dealt with Monsters, thinned out large hordes, and cleared out infestations. But did that include people?

Did their jobs have them hunting people like me down? Like some sort of a Witch hunter?

I wasn’t a Witch. I was a heretic. But in this world without Witches, they could practically be synonymous; the concept was the same. Heretics were killed for doing magic like a Witch was from my world.

And Theodore.

The kind older man was nowhere to be found when I looked at him. It just was not the same. Nothing was the same.

I just bolted out of there. It was not real. None of this could be real; it had to be fake. I did not hear the shouts coming from Rin as she ran for me, nor did I hear the fighting that broke out behind me.

I was reviled. Hated by the world and by gods. Everything spun around me, and those sounds simply disappeared in the background. I ignored it.

Screams and shouts came from somewhere. The sounds of fighting blared in the distance. But—

I just ran.

Hot flashes came over me, my legs were sore, my right ankle ached, and tears blurred my vision. But I continued running Down the street, around the corner, into the alleyway, out to a large courtyard. I ran, and ran, and—

I found myself in a crowd of people.

I looked up and saw many men and women gathered together with city guards around them. I felt my heart relax a little. An odd calm washed over me, as I reduced my pace to a walk.

I wandered through the crowd of faces, my head in a daze as voices spoke around me in a chatter.

"Will we be safe here?"

"The guards will protect us!"

"We have to run—"

"But the slaves are..."

"—the Oligopolis! If we make it there we’ll be much better protected than here!"

"Are you mad?! That’s where—"

"Goddess grace us."

What’s going on? the thought stupidly crossed my mind. Everyone was so tense; the atmosphere reeked of fear and dread. I could almost feel the tension in the air.

All kinds of insane, impossible, possibilities appeared in my head, but none of them were right. I had forgotten what just happened an hour before— that the city was being invaded.

A scream came from a nearby alleyway. Every face snapped in that direction. Except for me.

I bumped into a leg and fell to the ground.

I expected the man to turn to me, and I panicked. My heart rate picked up, as I reached out to cover the mark on my face; the mark of my slavery. But the man did not turn. His face was fixed where he looked.

Slowly, I turned to face the dark alleyway. The empty space that beheld something beyond it. But it did not wait for me.

I was half facing the alley when something bounded out of the shadows. My heart leapt in its chest as though I experienced a jump scare, and a creature that was a mockery of a Human being charged out.

This was not a movie, it did not come out alone; all at once, dozens of Abominations rushed out of the darkness— out of the small alleyways and the side streets— and into the large open space. A hail of bullets rained down on the drove of deformed people and monsters.

I stared aghast as I saw the creatures up close for the first time; from afar, they looked like people with blotted and blue skin in parts of their body, but up close they were much more terrifying. The blue bulbs looked like a mass infestation of mold growing out of a person, and the yellow pulsing cores looked like rotten gelatin— and I’m pretty sure gelatin can’t rot!

Pandemonium broke out, and the crowd began to disperse. Sounds of gunfire deafened my ears, as I waded my way through the crowd.

Fear was building up in my chest again. My heart pounded in my chest, and there was a ringing in my head. I could feel my whole body trembling.

I don’t want to die! I thought to myself.

The perimeter of guards had been holding off the Abominations for about a minute, but then came a different Abomination. It was not just the twisted form of a single individual that approached the plaza, but a perversion of multiple people melded into one monstrosity.

Two Humans and a Chimera were joined together by a large blue mass. The Humans formed the feet of the Abomination, and the Chimera was hanging off the side and being dragged on the ground like some sort of oversized arm.

Half a dozen guards turned their attention to the over ten foot tall creature, and began opening fire at it. Bullets bounced off of the Abomination like it was nothing, as it ran forwards and swung the Chimera at the line of guards.

The Chimera’s tail lashed out like a whip, and the blue bulbous body of the Abomination thinned as a blue layer spread from its head to the tail. The large Abomination broke through the guard’s formation, allowing the regular Abominations into the courtyard.

It was chaos! People were running everywhere, and guards were screaming as they were killed by the swarm of Abominations. I did not know what to do, so I just ran with the crowd.

I picked a random group running in front of me, and just followed them; we ran down an alleyway, out into an open street, turning right down the sidewalk—

And an Abomination leapt out of a side street, tearing into the poor woman it jumped on. Someone screamed as more Abominations poured out of the alleys, and I turned to run across the street.

I turned left at an intersection, then ducked into a small alley. I ran through it, and burst out next to a burning building. I looked up at the fire, then at the people gathered around it. They were only shadows in the fire’s light, but I could tell that they were slaves.

Men and women, all with chains around their necks, were standing around a pile of dead bodies. All of them were bloodied, and a few were still beating at the corpses on the ground. They were yelling and chanting to each other.

"If we die, we die free!" A man raised a fist.

Then, as though it were some sort of cue, the first Abomination bounded at them. The slaves picked up arms, and fought back against the coming death.

I only stopped to watch this happen for a second; I turned tails and ran away from it. I could hear fighting in the distance: screams and shouts filled the air; gunfire echoing in the distance; and explosions occasionally shaking the earth.

But I continued to run.

I found myself at another junction, and looked around. Straight ahead, dead bodies littered the ground with Abominations roaming about. And to the left, a small caravan of people were being assaulted by Abominations from all sides. I looked to the right, and saw no Abominations.

So I turned right.

I ran down the street, following it as it slowly narrowed. There was a dead end with only a left turn, so I took it. I continued down the path, before finally reaching the end of it.

I looked up and saw a large structure before me. One of the biggest in all of Bys. A massive jewel shaped amphitheater stood rising up hundreds of feet off the ground. And it was desolate.

The corpses of city guards were strewn about the base of the stadium. I froze, and turned to run—

Then I realized I was alone; I did not know when that happened. I turned around and stared at the dark streets all around me, each one of them possibly holding horrors unimaginable.

I’m going to die—

"Hey, kid!"

I snapped my head to the source of the voice. A woman looking to be in her late twenties or early thirties stood with a large group of people. They were all armed, and the woman had a spear rest on her shoulder.

She approached me, and I backed up.

"There’s no need to be scared. You’re a slave, right?" She raised her hands placatingly, then pointed a thumb back at herself. "We’re all slaves too. Gladiators, actually. But same thing y’know?"

Slaves? Did they kill all these guards? I shook my head. There was no time for this! They were coming! Those creatures were—

The woman continued, and I realized I wasn’t talking.

"We don’t know what’s going on, we just heard the city bells go off and thought it was time to break out. There’s more of us still in there,"— she nodded at the stadium— "but we can take you in."

I couldn’t speak. Why couldn’t I speak? I was breathing too heavily. My throat hurt too much. I— I was catatonic?

"Hey Em, I don’t think she can talk. Maybe she’s mute or something?" another woman piped up from behind her.

"Oh? Well it’s fine—" Em was halfway speaking when an inhuman screech came from the distance. "What was—"

I picked myself up, and ran.

"Hey, wait! Where are you going?! You’ll be safer with us!"

I ignored her, and bolted out of there. As I did, Abominations poured out of the shadows and assaulted the gladiators.

"Sacred piss! What are these things—"

I continued to run, panting heavily as the air left my lungs. My legs burned! I wanted to collapse. I wanted to…

I was limping.

I steadied myself on a wall as I limped down a street. I just wanted to get away from all this: it was too much for me.

I continued to make my way to… somewhere. And eventually found myself in a large plaza. There was a large statue in the center of the square, and a massive clocktower just behind it.

Dead bodies were piled up all around me, and I paused and stared at one of them; there was a small yellow protrusion growing out of it, and it almost looked like the core of the Abominations. But it was tiny, smaller than my fists, and neither was it glowing. However, it was still there.

And all the bodies had them.

I collapsed next to the statue, and sat there for a moment. Only a moment. Because a group of Abominations ran out of the shadows, with millions of chittering noises echoing in the background.

I got up in a panic, as they charged like mindless beasts towards me!

No!

I wanted them all to go away. I don’t know why; whether it was instinct or out of panic. But I raised my hand, and swiped in their direction.

And then, a blue bolt of energy flew out like a baseball. A magic circle rested on the palm of my hand, as I continued to flail at the Abominations in a frenzy as they approached. Bolts of magic flew almost naturally, striking the Abominations down.

Only three of them fell, but there were hundreds more! One got close to me, and I covered my face in a panic. A small bolt of fire flew out and knocked the Abomination back. It laid on the ground, burning and screaming as it slowly died. But still, it tried to get up.

But still, it tried to move.

It began crawling, and I screamed once more. I threw another ball of fire at it, killing it this time. I heaved a sigh of relief, then realized there were many more coming. I looked up—

And saw the Abominations passing me. The Abominations came and went in droves, crossing through the courtyard to somewhere further in the city. They were ignoring me!

I watched in silence as the Abominations continued on, heading to some point in the city. Then, the ground shook. I felt myself stumble, and fell to the ground.

My gaze shifted to the source of the rumbling; at the direction of the coming Abominations. I watched a massive figure make its way through the city.

A giant amalgamation of countless bodies of Humans and Monsters crawled through the streets of Bys. It stood at over 60 feet tall, held together by the blue bulbs that all Abominations were infested with, and with a massive yellow core in the center of its being. Dozens of massive blue tendrils dragged the massive monster into the city, shaking the ground as it did.

But something was different about this Abomination. While all Abominations were a single or handful of bodies joined together, all of their bodies' faces were covered. However, with this many beings meshed up into a single mass, it was impossible to block out all their faces.

And what I saw was eyes. Countless eyes from countless bodies, all of them looking out of the single mass. But they were not normal eyes; they were all glowing red.

I stared at the Abomination, and it stared back. All it’s eyes locked on me as it made its way past me, then turned away. But as it did, a single tendril lashed out towards me.

I flinched and covered my eyes. However, I was not it’s target; the Abomination struck at the statue behind me, toppling the nearly equally tall figure, collapsing it to the ground.

That was it.

The ground trembled from the destruction of the statue, but it continued on. I was alive.

I’m alive!

I threw my hands up in the air and fell on my back; I was so happy, I was laughing maniacally! I did not know why they ignored me, but I was saved!

A glint of red shone at the corner of my eye, interrupting my reprieve, and I turned around to face it. I looked up at the massive clock tower before me, and saw him.

On the giant machine used to tell time. On the device made possible with the workings of many cogs and gears for it to function. On the clock tower, stood a titan.

A giant dressed in silver armor. Someone I had seen before: my twice savior, and a messenger of the false god.

There, on that clock tower, stood one of the three men who visited me the night my mother died. And the message to me was clear.

Was it something you’d understand if you were from this world? Or would only someone from my world get it? I did not know.

I turned my head to a building in the distance; to the ziggurat of Bys under siege from the massive Abomination and countless smaller ones. Then back to the messenger standing atop the clock tower— a giant contraption made by men. A machine.

The message was simple. Meant for me to understand. To comprehend.

Deus ex machina.

God from the machine.

I got up, and limply made my way out of Bys.

The End of

PART TWO

Chapter 23: Interlude II - Hunters

"Do you see it?"

"Uh, I think— I see it."

"Nn, now aim carefully. And don’t miss this time!"

"I’ll try."

"No! Don’t try. Just do it!"

"I— yes."

"Good, now shoot!"

The young man nodded his head, and pulled the trigger. There was a sound, then a bolt of bright blue energy flashed through the air, flying straight at its target.

A four legged animal, standing at around four feet in height, and almost twice as long across, snapped its head to the side. The deer heard the gunfire echo through the forest. It saw the bullet whizzing past trees and bushes. It only took a second to blink, then it jumped to the side.

Blue energy splashed on the ground where the deer once was. A loud sigh came from the thicket where the young man was, and he watched as his quarry fled into the distance.

"Damn it!" Feri dropped his rifle, threw his hands in the air, and slumped over. "That’s the third one today." He turned to his companion and exhaled. "I’m sorry, Rin. I should have—"

"You did great, Feri!" the Cat Beastkin interrupted him. Rin placed a hand on the young man’s shoulders, and grinned. "Nn, not everyone can just pick up a gun and become a master at hunting. Not everyone is like me, after all!"

"I know. But if you weren’t with me— you’d have got them all by yourself. And you’d be back at camp by now. And we’d all have food! I’m not a Hunter, like you. I’ve just been a... burden… to all of you..." The former slave trailed off.

The catgirl blinked, and looked at Feri. He was crestfallen.

His face was overshadowed by his long hair, obscuring part of his face. He had one arm crossed around his chest, tightly grasping at the other. And his gaze kept flickering away from the young woman to the floor, never lingering in one spot for more than a second.

Rin sighed. Then she smacked him hard on the back.

"What are you talking about?!" the young woman nearly yelled. She grasped the former slave by the shoulders, and forced him to make eye contact with her. "How can I be wasting my time when I offered to come with you? I mean— sure, I’d have been done hunting an hour ago if I went by myself— but I’m literally spending my time on something I wanted to do! I’m not wasting my time at all!"

Feri recoiled from both the hit and the shout. He raised his hands up to protest, but the catgirl continued.

"In any case—" Rin paused to take a deep breath, then spoke in a calmer voice, "You’re the one who volunteered to go hunting yourself. You could have just let others do it, but you wanted to help. Don’t call yourself a burden when you’ve been trying your best!"

The Cat Beastkin crossed her arms. She stared at the young man challengingly.

Feri met her gaze, and he felt… happy?

The former slave was not sure how to describe the feeling, but he certainly did not feel upset at the scolding. He was used to being yelled at, however this was different. He nodded his head slowly.

"I— you’re right. Thank you. I’m sorry for—"

"And stop apologizing! Don’t say ‘sorry’ unless you’ve actually got something to apologize for! Got it?" Rin stamped her foot down, and half-glared at him.

Feri paused. He stared blankly at the young woman. Her words slowly sunk in, causing him to stand up straighter. He inhaled deeply, and spoke in a more confident voice.

"Yes. I got it."

The catgirl nodded to herself. "Nn, that’s better."

Rin turned away from the former slave. She bent over to the ground, and picked up his fallen weapon.

"Now let’s continue,"— Rin handed the man his rifle— "then maybe, we can get back to camp before the sun sets."

Feri watched as the Cat Beastkin spun around and walked off by herself. He stared down at his rifle, then back at Rin.

"You coming?" the young woman called out in the distance.

The young man quickly slung the rifle over his shoulders, then hurried after his companion.

"I’m coming!"

Later that evening Rin and Feri returned to the camp after claiming and harvesting two deer. Only the choice cuts were carried back to camp due to the weight. Both carried their own bag, but Rin had taken the heavier one since she was stronger.

They were greeted upon arrival by many people, and began distributing the food. It was a large encampment spreading throughout the plains, so what they brought back could not be shared with everyone. But the two of them gave out as much as they could, and were rewarded with nothing but the heartfelt gratitude of the recipients.

Feri felt his cheeks heat up from all the attention he was getting, and kept his head down. He let his companion do all the talking as they made their way through the camp. And although he stayed silent, he felt a sense of pride and accomplishment building up deep within him.

After a while, the two of them finally reached their destination somewhere in the center of the campsite. There, Feri found his other two companions waiting for him.

"Hrn, welcome back."

A Dog Beastkin sat cross-legged by a fire. Shang bowed his head slightly, as he called out his greetings to them.

"Eh, what’s up? What’d you guys bring back?" their second companion chimed in.

Sitting across from Shang was a Rabbit Beastkin. He had brown hair and the same colored eyes. His long floppy ears were that of a lop-eared bunny, an uncommon— but not rare— trait for a Rabbit Beastkin.

His name was Dawa, and he was the only other surviving Beastkin from Bys.

Feri set down his bag, as Rin just collapsed by the fire. She sprawled herself on the ground and sighed in relief.

"Nn, that was a long day. Also, I’m not a guy. Also, we got some deer meat. What about you guys? When’d you guys get back?"

"About an hour before you. There’s some boar meat if you want it," Shang said.

The Dog Beastkin picked up a skewer cooking by the fire, and offered it to Rin. She took it gratefully and muttered a thanks. Shang then turned to Feri, and raised a second one up to him. "How about you, want some?"

"I’m fine, thanks." The young man was knelt down, unpacking his bag of deer meat. He poked a stick through the venison, and set it to cook by the fire. "I want to try some of what I caught."

"More for me!" The white furred catgirl snatched the skewer from Shang’s hand, and he uttered a curse.

"Rin! You could have just asked and I’d have handed it to you. Your claws are sharper than mine, you could have cut me!"

"That just means I’m better than you! It’s not my fault you’re so fragile!"

"That’s not what I’m—"

The two continued bickering as Feri sat himself down by the fire. The young man waited in anticipation as his food slowly cooked.

"The first hunt is always the most rewarding," a voice came from the side.

Feri turned to face Dawa. The Rabbit Beastkin was nibbling on a bit of meat. The Human man blinked. "Really? It uh— doesn’t get any better than this?" he asked.

"Generally? No," Dawa answered bluntly. Then he added in, "Eh, not with hunting animals, at least."

"I see." Feri nodded his head. Then, he raised his head thoughtfully. "You guys were Hunters, right? Before all this."

"We were, yes. There were a dozen of us in our group. Pretty big for a Hunter team. Some would even say inefficient. But we were good." The Rabbit Beastkin stared longingly into the flames.

"Oh,"— the young man shuffled in his seat— "and as Hunters you guys just… uh, killed animals?"

"No, not animals," Dawa snorted. "Monsters."

"Oh…" Feri flushed at his mistake.

"There’s no need to get embarrassed about not knowing. The Hunters Guild does not extend to most of the Free Lands. And Rem too, but that’s for entirely different reasons. Anyway, you were a slave all your life, right?" The Rabbit Beastkin waited for Feri to nod in affirmation, then continued. "So it makes sense that you wouldn’t know."

Dawa took a deep breath, then began to explain.

"Eh, Hunters in the Hunters Guild are not the same as regular hunters who do it for game or for food. We take jobs dealing with Monsters, and not animals. This usually comes in the form of subjugating Monster hordes that are too large for a town or a city to handle with their guards alone. Of course, sometimes there are Monsters that require a whole team to take down a single one, but those kinds of Monsters tend to be smart enough to stay away from larger settlements."

"I see." The former slave nodded along. "I don’t think they do that in Bys. I, uh— think they usually send gladiators to deal with Monsters."

"Yes. That’s because there aren’t any Hunters here, see? Anyway that’s not what all Hunters do."

"What else is there?"

"Sometimes, Hunters are hired to be bodyguards of sorts. Like maybe escorting a rich man’s carriage through a forest known to be full of dangerous Monsters. But we don’t get hired to defend them from bandit attacks. That’s what Mercenaries do. Eh, although we are required by the guild to protect our clients if they get ambushed by people."

"But you mostly deal with Monsters, right?"

"Exactly. So that’s why some Hunters don’t like taking those jobs. You never know when some asshole has a target on this back, and can’t afford Mercenaries. He’d put a posting for escort through a relatively safe part so it’s cheap, then when you think you’ve got an easy job you suddenly have to deal with assassins, hired bandits, or even Mercenaries."

Feri nodded along. He was starting to get the idea behind it. But there was a glaring problem with the job that even he noticed.

"What if there’s no… Monsters?" The young man paused, then quickly added. "Like, no Monsters attacking villages, and no Monsters attacking travelers. Wouldn’t you be forced to..." he trailed off.

"Do escort jobs?" Dawa finished the Human man’s question for him. "Well that just means you’ll have to fall back to the part of the job that makes us Hunters. Do you know what that is?"

The Rabbit Beastkin just grinned as the former slave blinked in confusion. Feri was just about to blurt out a stupid answer, when a voice from the side stopped him.

"You hunt Monsters," Shang answered the question for the young man. "You hunt Monsters, then you sell their parts to the highest bidder."

Feri turned to face the Dog Beastkin as he continued.

"It’s like what most regular people do when they hunt animals. You kill a moose, then hang its head in your living room. Except it’s a Mammoth Hog, and you can’t kill it yourself. So you buy its decapitated head from a Hunter who has. There’s no sense of accomplishment behind it, but it’s a far better decoration than a moose’s head. At least, that’s what nobles seem to think."

Shang shook his head, and muttered under his breath. "Savages."

Feri saw this, and blinked. Confused. A high pitched voice piped up, explaining it to the former slave.

"It pays well, but Shang doesn’t like it," Rin said from next to the Dog Beastkin. "He thinks it’s terrible, so we never did it."

"Hrn, that’s because it is terrible. It’s like breaking into someone’s house and killing them, then selling their body after. Like killing animals for sport. And these Monsters are the intelligent ones. Maybe someone will buy a Chimera for 10… 15 gold? At most 20 gold. But the ones people are really after— like a Manticore or a Horned Ursa— they are smart. Smarter than animals. It’s wrong, and I don’t like it."

"Nn, I know that and I agree with you! I was just explaining it to Feri, idiot!"

"Both of you are the idiots. Shut up!" Dawa stopped the argument before it even began. The Rabbit Beastkin faced the young man. "Point is, Hunters do a lot of things. But at the end of the day, it has to do killing with Monsters. We preferred to do escort or subjugation jobs, so we traveled around a lot. And that’s how we ended up in Elios. Because there’s no jobs if you stay in one city— or country even— doing nothing," he finished.

And Feri understood. The young man let the information sink in. There was so much about the world he had to learn! He remembered the fall of Bys. He remembered those creatures. Those Abominations.

"Have you guys ever seen those… things before?"

Shang and Dawa exchanged a look, and the Dog Beastkin spoke up.

"No. I’ve never seen… or heard of anything like that before. Even back when I was in the navy, I never even saw any sea creature as terrifying as that. And those get really bad." Shang shook his head, then muttered under his breath. "I should’ve known. All the signs were there but I didn’t realize. Monsters don’t just attack large cities again and again without a reason— they were driven out. Driven out by those… things."

Feri nodded his head. He opened his mouth to ask another question—

"Nn, your food’s burning," Rin interrupted him.

The young man blinked and fumbled for his skewer as the Cat Beastkin laughed. Feri was desperately blowing at the blackened meat, when there was a commotion across the camp.

Feri looked up and saw a small group of riders entering the encampment. A dozen people rode in on horses, with multiple people mounted on a single horse. Half of them were armed, while the other half were not, and looked tired and weary.

"Hrn, they’re back early. Let’s go greet them." Shang stood up and gestured at the riders. "And bring some meat for them, Rin."

"Nn." The catgirl made a sound in affirmation.

Feri and Dawa followed after their two companions. And they walked up to the riders as they were dismounting off their horses.

"Hey, Em. Catch!" Rin grabbed a flank of deer meat and tossed it at one of the riders.

The rider was a woman, looking to be around her thirties. She had green hair, and brown eyes. She was dressed in crude leather armor, with a steel gardbrace added onto her left shoulder, and a spear that had a single edged blade at the end of its pole around her back.

Her name was Em, short for Emma. And she was a gladiator.

Em was helping a young girl off a horse when Rin called out to her. The former gladiator turned her head slowly, and uttered a word. "Wha—"

The venison smacked into her face, and slowly slid off. The food fell to the ground comically, and a muffled laughter came from the little girl next to the former gladiator.

"Oh, haha. Very funny." Em lifted the child off the horse, and set her down to the ground. "Now be a good kid, and annoy your parents instead of me, m’kay?"

The woman patted the girl, and she nodded. Em picked up the fallen food as the child ran off to a man and woman being helped off their horses.

"Kids."She cast a sidelong glance at Rin. "I’ve gone from dealing with one brat straight to dealing with another."

"Hey! I brought you food!" the catgirl sputtered out.

"I know, I know. Thanks for that." Em raised her hand placatingly. "Now run along and go bother your parents." She grinned.

"Nn—"

"How was it? Was there any trouble?" Shang stepped forwards and spoke over Rin.

"Not really. Just brought back a family and two young men. We ran into a patrol of guards too, but they left us alone. They’re more concerned about the Abominations than about us."

"Abominations?"

"Those creatures that brought down Bys. That’s what the Holy Xan Empire is calling them. So everyone’s picking up on the name."

"Hrn, it’s certainly fitting. But I find it odd that they’re the ones doing the naming."

"Apparently they knew about them beforehand or something. I dunno. I just ask questions to travelers, and they either run from me or answer me." The former gladiator shrugged. Em tied her horse to a wooden post, then smirked. "I just find it funny, y’know? Usually all the Free Cities would be up in arms when there’s what? Six? Seven thousand—"

"Nine thousand." A woman— another former gladiator— behind Em piped up. She pointed around the massive camp emphatically as she spoke. "Maybe even ten thousand. But at least nine. We’ve been getting a lot of new arrivals, in addition to those we help bring in every day."

"Whatever,"— Em waved her hand dismissively— "point is, there're a lot of slaves by their doorsteps. But they just don’t care. I find it funny."

Shang nodded his head in agreement. "As long as we’re just passing through, they won’t care. Sending an army and wasting lives in a battle they don’t have to fight is foolish right now."

"Yep. Although…" Em trailed off, uncertain whether she should speak.

"Although… what?" it was Dawa who asked the question.

"Well, this is what I heard. Immediately after Bys fell, everyone was up in arms worried that they’ll be hit by the Abominations next, but apparently it hasn’t happened yet."

"What do you mean?" Shang blinked.

"I mean they haven’t left Bys. It’s been weeks and the Abominations haven’t left the city. They’ve just been waiting there. Apparently."

"S— so you’re saying we could be attacked?" Feri spoke, the first time in a while, and with a hint of fear.

"Look, I’m not saying anything! I’m sure we’ll be fine! Even if they don’t have to worry about the Abominations, we’re not going around attacking anyone! We’re just trying to get the Hell out of this place. There’s an army of maybe…forty thousand from the mines, seventy thousand from the fields, and who knows how many joined them from the city… about two hundred thousand slaves going around and attacking other cities to free more slaves! They’ll be worried about them, not us!"

It was Rin’s turn to speak this time. "I’m sure she’s right, Feri. We’ll get out of the Free Lands. I promise." Her voice was cool, uncharacteristic of her, but reassuring.

The former slave felt himself brighten at the thought. Freedom. What would he do once he was free? There’s so many possibilities! But a voice came from the crowd, and his thoughts focused on something else. Something more somber.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" Someone came running up to the group. "Did you find her?"

It was a man. He had brown hair, blue eyes, and wrinkles line across his face. He looked to be in his forties— middle aged, and weary. It was Theodore.

He took a deep breath, then he asked a question that froze Feri and the Beastkin in their tracks.

"Did you find Melas?"

The young man. The former slave. Feri paused, and he remembered his savior.

He remembered the little girl that freed him. The one who unbound him from his shackles, and pulled him free from bondage.

And he remembered when he last saw her.

***

Feri looked at Melas as she stared at her own hand in horror. At the glowing light. At the magic circle she created, and the magic she cast.

The little girl’s breath quickened, her head snapped from face to face. Everyone was staring at her in shock. But only for a second.

The moment did not drag out for long, because it was shattered by a word. A voice. It did not come from Feri, or Rin, or Shang, or any of the Beastkin. But it came nonetheless.

"Heretic."

And that ten second stupor ended. Melas broke out in a run. Tears fell from her eyes as she ran away.

It only took Rin a second to understand what just happened. The Cat Beastkin turned around and called after the little girl, but Melas could not hear her. Rin dashed after the girl, but—

From the darkness, bounded the first Abomination. Then the second. Then the rest.

The Abominations ignored Melas as she fled further and further away. Rin tore through the first line of Abominations, as gunfire came from behind to support her. But there were too many of them. She could not close the gap.

Dawa saw this, and he leapt forward, closing the gap in two short jumps. He was about to reach Melas when a giant Abomination came.

It was a single Monster. But it looked like it was ripped in half but put back together. It’s lower and bottom halves were held together by the blue bulbs that all Abominations had, but the yellow core was larger. And its light did not pulse, it shone.

It looked like a bear. A giant horned bear towering at over 12 feet tall. And its eyes glowed red, as it stared around.

Shang took one look at the Abomination, and called back his companions. The Rabbit Beastkin dodged one swiped from the Abomination’s claws, then made his way back.

Rin tried to object, but there were too many for her to take on alone. The Cat Beastkin acquiesced, and they all fled, leaving Melas alone as they fought to survive.

***

A voice broke Feri from his flashback. It was Em. She was responding to Theodore’s question.

"I’m sorry, Mr Theodore. But we didn’t see her. Unless she made her way to the camp by herself. She’s not here." The former gladiator spoke apologetically.

"I see. I just thought…" the middle aged man trailed off. He shook his head and whispered to himself. "I just wanted to apologize…"

Feri shifted where he stood, and he saw Rin do the same. Shang and Dawa were behind him, so the young man could not see them. But he assumed they did the same.

Em did not know what happened. She was not there for it. But she could read a mood. The former gladiator took one look at the dour atmosphere, and piped up reassuringly.

"Look, I told you guys I saw her in Bys. Little girl— maybe 10 or 11 years old— black hair, silver eyes, and with an ‘M’ marked on her face, right? She was running away from the Abominations, and doing quite a good job at that too! Maybe a little tired and afraid, but she wasn’t injured. I’m sure she’s fine. Maybe she’s with the 200,000 other slaves!"

"Yeah… maybe," Theodore whispered. His voice hollow. But still he mustered up some energy. "Thanks."

"Sure, no problem. Look I’ve gotta go. Find these new guys a place to sleep, and get them some food. I’ll just be taking this,"— Em took the bag of meat from Rin— "and be giving it out, alright?"

The former gladiator got a few nods, then went her way.

There was a moment of silence, then Shang placed a hand on the man’s shoulder. "I’m sure she’ll be fine. You saw her. She’s strong, even though she’s a child."

Theodore looked up to face the Dog Beastkin, and spoke with a voice full of regret. "I know— it’s just that…"

The middle aged man drew in a deep breath.

"It’s just that I wanted to apologize. At that moment I last saw her, I felt… afraid. I shouldn’t have been. But I was. And I know whatever amount of fear I felt, is nothing compared to what she must have felt then."

No one responded.

Feri looked at Theodore, and he understood how the older man felt. He owed his life to Melas, but—

Truth be told, Feri knew very little about heretics and magic. He was a slave, and he didn’t learn too much about it. But he knew enough to know that they were scorned and feared. Feri himself did not find himself afraid of Melas when she used magic. But he was confused and shocked. And that was enough to help drive the little girl away.

So at this moment, all of them felt regret.

"We’ll be passing Boleria tomorrow. When we do, we have to prepare for a fight. We don’t know if they’ll send an army to attack us. But we have to do this if we want our freedom! To leave the Free Lands!"

Em shouted the last words, and there was a cheer. Feri turned around as the crowd dispersed, and he along with it.

The former gladiator was the de facto leader of the now over ten thousand freed slaves, so everyone listened to her. Everyone was setting up camp, as they had just stopped for the day. Feri was not going hunting today so he was in the camp alone. Well, not alone. There was Em. He could always talk to her. But they weren’t that close. And this was around the time she went out patrolling.

There was also Theodore. But the older man would have reminded Feri of Melas. So the former slave did not like talking to him if not necessary.

So Feri just wandered the camp. Aimlessly. But happily.

The former slave was enjoying his relative freedom. One might say this situation was not ideal, but he’s been through far worse. In fact, he thought this was rather relaxing. That was until someone called out to him.

"Feri!"

The young man did not turn around. He continued walking through the camp.

"Feri, please don’t ignore me. We haven’t spoken in weeks."

It was the voice of an older man. Not Theodore. But someone Feri knew very well. One of two.

Feri jerked when an arm grabbed him.

"Feri. I’ve raised you since you were young. Why are you doing this to me?"

At that, the young man turned around. He stopped to stare at the old man before him. His hair was graying, and his body withered. Feri took a deep breath, then spoke to the man for the first time in a while.

"Paul," the young man said sharply. "What do you want?"

"Feri, please. Why are you speaking to me like that— you used to look up to me. Me and John. We took you in when you were brought from the mines to the city. When you were a child! And now John’s dead, and you won’t even talk to me."

"You know what you did. You betrayed us."

"Please, Feri. I did it for your own sake. If you had been caught, they would have killed you!"

Feri stared at the man. He couldn’t believe it. He still thought he was right! Feri stopped himself from shouting, and spoke calmly.

"We wouldn’t have been caught if it wasn’t for you."

"You don’t know that." Paul met the younger man’s eyes challengingly. "You have not seen what I’ve seen. Too many people have died doing foolish things. You would’ve been one of them."

Feri felt the anger boiling inside of him. He was just about to snap at his former parental figure, when there was a cry for help.

Someone at the edge of the camp screamed, and people began to run.

"Monster attack!" a shout came from the distance.

Feri was just about to turn and run away from the shouts, when Paul tried to pull the younger man.

"We’ve got to move! If the Monster gets to us—" The older man tugged at Feri.

Feri blinked, and stopped. "No," the former slave spoke defiantly. He was free now. He could choose for himself. Perhaps it was a little bit foolish. And perhaps it was in the heat of the moment. But the young man turned around, and ran to the screaming.

"Feri—"

The former slave ran through a crowd of people, screaming and fleeing from the scene. He quickly stopped to grab a knife next to a campfire, then continued his run. Feri turned around a tent and saw—

A large cat. About the same size as a tiger. But instead of black stripes on orange fur, it had gray-needle like fur all throughout. And it also had long protruding fangs from the mouth even when closed. But those were not its most distinctive features. It had a horn.

It was a Horned Panther.

Feri froze as the realization sank in. The young man locked eyes with the Monster. It was cornering an injured man and a little girl, but perked up at the new arrival.

The Horned Panther looked uncertainly at Feri, but when he did not move, it slowly limped forwards to the crying girl and her father. Was it injured? Feri broke out of the thought, and quickly took a step forward. It’ll kill them.

"Stop!" the young man ordered, as if the Monster could understand him.

Of course, it did not stop. It did not understand him. But it did understand loud noises, and the sudden movement together with the shout was perceived as a threat.

The Horned Panther snapped its head towards Feri’s direction. It bent down, then leapt forward to the young man. Feri saw it coming, and rolled out of the way from pounce.

The young man had just got back up, when a tail came swinging at him. The Monster’s tail struck him across the chest. He collapsed to the ground, and the Horned Panther was over him in a second.

The Horned Panther pressed its paw on the man’s chest, holding him down. It snarled at Feri, saliva drooling out of the Monster’s mouth. Feri raised his hand, and stabbed it in the eye.

The Monster recoiled, blood splattered on the ground, and the dagger went flying. It loosened its grip on Feri for a moment, and he slid out from under its paws. The young man scrambled for his only weapon, but the Horned Panther spun.

This time, Feri saw it coming, and he ducked under the tail. He picked up his dagger, and was backing up. But he was too close. The Horned Panther looked like it was about to pounce on him—

And a stick of fire came flying at it.

The Horned Panther flinched as the fire landed on its side. It never would have hurt the Monster. But it was hot. And it came from the side with the injured eye. So it only felt the heat and reacted.

The Monster spun around, scanning around with its one good eye, and it saw a man. An older man. And he was holding sticks of firewood, sticking it into a campfire, and hurling it at the Horned Panther.

It was Paul. And he was yelling at Feri.

"Run!"

The young man backed up, and readied himself for an attack. But it never came.

The Horned Panther kept getting pelted with sticks of fire. And it was getting annoyed. It pounced at the older man, closing 20 feet in a single jump.

Feri felt his heart drop as he watched it happen. "No—" the words left his mouth, but there was nothing he could do. He was not fast enough. Paul was going to die. The Horned Panther opened its mouth to bite at the struggling man—

And a figure dashed forward. Fast. Like a hidden tiger grabbing its prey.

The figure jumped on the back of the Horned Panther. It grabbed the Monster’s open mouth and held it open. The Horned Panther struggled and began pawing at its back but it was no use.

"Nn, get outta here!" Rin shouted at the downed man.

Paul turned and ran as the Cat Beastkin continued wrestling with the Monster.

"Bad kitty!"

The catgirl clawed at the Monster’s remaining good eye, and it shrieked. The Horned Panther fell on its back, trying to crush Rin, but the young woman just spun around its neck.

The two of them rolled on the ground, both trying to stay on top of the other. The Horned Panther was strong, but Rin was too nimble. Every time the Monster tried to pin the Cat Beastkin, she managed to wiggle her way out of its grasps.

The catgirl held onto the Horned Panther’s neck. She grappled with it, maintaining this pseudo-headlock, and clawed its head back whenever it tried to bite her.

After a minute, Rin finally managed to get a proper grip while on its back. The Cat Beastkin grabbed tight as the Horned Panther tried to shake it off, but it was too late. She dug her claws into the Monster’s neck, clasping tightly, then she twisted.

A snap echoed through the camp, and the Horned Panther collapsed. Dead.

The young woman got off the back of the dead Monster, then sprawled herself on the floor.

"Whew. That was tiring." She wiped a bead of sweat off her forehead, then turned to face Feri. "Nn, I’m back by the way. Got some food!" Rin pointed at a bag of meat dropped by a tent.

Feri looked at the meat, then back to Rin. He was wide eyed. He knew the young woman was amazing, but this? He was speechless. He did not even know what to say. But someone else did.

"Thank you." The man who was originally attacked limped up to the catgirl. He was still injured, and was being supported by his wife and daughter. Even still, he bowed his head deeply. "Thank you— thank you so much. I owe you my life."

The father started to tear up, and his family cried with him. They kept thanking Rin, as Feri just watched the heartfelt moment happen. And the young man realized something.

He put a hand to his chest, then looked at his palm. He stared at it for a while, before he was snapped back to reality by a gruff voice.

"Hrn, it’s a good thing that you did. But you need to be more careful. If Rin did not show up in time, you and that other man would have died." Shang rested a hand on Feri’s shoulders, and Dawa was right behind the Dog Beastkin.

"When did you guys get back?"

"Eh, we just did. But we heard what happened. It’s a good thing Rin ran back to the camp ahead of us because she was hungry. You know how she is."

The young man nodded. Then he stared back at Rin, as she puffed her chest with pride as more people came and thanked her.

"You guys are so… amazing. You bring food to share, and you save the lives of others. I— how do you guys do it?"

"Well, we believe that we should treat others the way we want to be treated. Only by doing good, can you die great."

"I see." Feri felt the words sink in, and he realized there was something he needed to do. But Shang was not done talking.

"Plus—" the Dog Beastkin heaved a sigh. "Plus, we want to help out as much as we can. Before we leave."

Feri was broken out of his thoughts. His head snapped up, and he met Shang’s gaze, then Dawa’s, and knew they were telling the truth.

"Leave? When—"

"After we leave Besha. Once we pass by Boleria, when we exit Besha, we’ll be going southwest."

The former slave opened his mouth to say something, but Dawa spoke over him.

"I told you, didn’t I? The Rem Republic does not have a Hunters Guild. And this group will be heading straight south to Rem to get out of the Free Lands as soon as possible. We’ll be out of a job there. So we’ll be splitting away, to head to Elios first. Plus it’s the last country we were in. So we’re just returning back to where we started."

Feri looked at the two Beastkin, and saw that there was no changing their minds. He stood in silence for a moment, then nodded.

"I understand."

Shang breathed a sigh of relief, glad that there was no arguing over it. But he froze when he heard what Feri had to say next.

"I’m coming with."

"What?!" both Beastkin said in unison.

"I said I’m coming with. I’ve got nothing else to do, and I’ve been thinking for a while. I want to be a Hunter. Plus, I like you guys."

"But it’s dangerous—"

"You can’t—"

"Sounds good to me!" a third voice spoke over the first two.

Rin was standing behind Feri, and grinning to herself. "Nn, I don’t see a problem with it. All of us started out not knowing how to fight. And Feri can learn."

"But—"

"He stood against a Horned Panther and didn’t back down. Sure, it was injured. And sure, he’d have died if I didn’t save him. But he has what it takes to be a Hunter."

Shang sighed, exasperated. He turned away from Rin, then gazed deeply into the young man’s eyes.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes." There was no pause. No uncertainty. The former slave spoke without missing a beat.

"Fine. But don’t do anything reckless, got it?" Shang finally gave in.

Feri felt his lips curl up into a smile, and he felt happy. He was going to be a Hunter! I’m going to—

"Yay! Welcome Feri!"

Rin broke out in a cheer, and the young man blinked. The catgirl threw her arms around Feri, and he felt something… soft.

He looked at Rin, really stared at her. At the young woman. Realized she was hugging him. Then his face turned red.

The next day, the group of over ten thousand slaves passed by Boleria without a problem. They crossed through the border of Besha, and everyone breathed a sigh of relief as they made it one step closer to freedom.

There were still 600 miles of the Free Lands filled with cities and towns of slavers ahead of them. But leaving Besha was a sign of progress.

It was a reprieve, even if a brief one. And so everyone was happy. Feri looked around at all the smiling faces as they stopped to make camp, but he did not find the face he was looking for. He wandered around a bit, searching, before he finally found him.

Paul was riding in the back of a wagon. The older man was struggling to get off, when Feri approached him and put out a hand.

"Thank you—" Pauled looked up and blinked. "Feri?"

Feri gestured at his outstretched hand, and the older man took it.

"I should be the one thanking you," Feri said, his gaze unwavering.

"Oh, for yesterday? It wasn't a problem," Paul said as he dusted himself off. "I just thought you needed some of this old man’s help. That’s all."

"No. Not that." Feri shook his head. "Thank you for everything. All you’ve done for me. You and John. And I’m sorry for the way I treated you for the last few weeks. But I have to say it: thank you."

"You’re… welcome?." The older man blinked. Confused. Not sure what was going on.

The former slaves stood there, together. In silence for a moment. Feri enjoying it. Relishing in it. Trying to prolong it. But the moment had to end. So Feri spoke again.

"Thank you for everything. But you’re free now. You can find your own happiness. Your own joy. And not live for the sake of others anymore. You don’t have to live for my sake anymore."

The meaning of what the young man said slowly sunk in. And Paul sputtered. He cried and clasped at the young man’s hands. But the young man still continued.

"I’m free too. And I’m going to find my own calling. Going to do what I want. And so should you. After all you’ve been through— you deserve it. And John too… if he was here."

The old man met Feri’s gaze. His face pleading. And both their eyes were wet with tears.

"Will I ever see you again?"

Feri hesitated. He looked at Paul. At the sad old man, and he wanted to lie to him. But he did not.

"I— maybe." The former slave shook his head. "But not anytime soon. If we ever do meet, it will be years from now."

"I see." Paul’s voice shook. It spoke of grief. And he looked tired and weary.

But there was something in Paul’s look that spoke to the young man. It almost looked like… light. As if a spark had been lit inside of him, and a new fire burned within him. But light most new flames, it was still small. It’s light weak. Yet, it could grow.

"May the Goddess illuminate our lives."

Paul let go of the young man. The boy he raised. And the slave he protected. Then he walked away from Feri, as the younger man watched.

Later that evening, four people left the large encampment set outside of Besha. There were three Beastkin, one human. Three men, one woman. Four Hunters, and zero slaves.

They bade their farewells, and said their goodbyes, leaving behind the hundreds of gold coins-worth corpse of the Horned Panther with Em, then set out on their own journey. A dangerous trek to safety. But it was a path a Hunter was used to.

And more than that, it was a path full of arguments.

"I’m bored! I’m sleepy! I’m hungry! Are we there yet?"

"Shut up, Rin."

"Both of you, shut up! You’ve been at it for an hour!"

Feri watched his companions as they argued, and he smiled.

Part Three: Reality

Reality

Chapter 24: Begging and Stealing

A brown hare sat on a rock, its ears pointed up, and it’s small bushy tail pressed against the stone. It was an innocent creature; a herbivore that never harmed another conscious living thing in its life. But that did not matter to me— not at this moment, at least.

I raised one hand up, and pointed a finger at the animal. A yellow circle of light briefly shone on my fingertips, and a bolt of fire came flying out at the hare. It looked up, saw the firebolt coming at it, and nimbly hopped out of the way.

The magical flames splashed on the surface of the rock, falling onto and lighting up the grass around it. I tried to follow the small brown animal, my fingers trailing after it, but it was too fast; it ran around a tree, through some tall grass, and into a bush. Then it was gone.

I stared at the undergrowth the hare fled into, then back to the rock surrounded by a small fire. I lowered my hand slowly, and heaved a sigh; I stomped over to the growing flames, and stamped it out.

I was annoyed. Hares were annoyingly fast— in fact, most animals were annoyingly fast. Turns out, when you’re evolutionarily conditioned to be a prey, you become very good at running away. I sighed.

I remembered back on Earth, whenever my dad brought me hunting (I might be a girl, but I was an only child, so he had to make do with me) and I just got bored. I should’ve paid more attention!

I loved my dad back in my world, I really did; but I did not enjoy hunting. I much preferred spending our quality time together doing something else he liked— like fishing, which was much more relaxing— but he wanted some variety. So he taught me how to hunt, but I didn’t really listen. And now...

I’m so hungry, I thought.

I had been traveling for over a week now, and hadn’t eaten in days. And it was not like my diet prior to all this had been particularly nutritious; so I was pretty sure I was dying. Or at least, close to death.

Either ways, I was annoyed. So once I was done putting out the small fire I caused (I didn’t want to burn down the whole forest) I kicked a small pebble, and trudged my way back to the road.

I had taken a small detour to try and get some food since I was literally starving. But once again, my efforts had been in vain, and my hard work has produced nothing. Or in other words: there were no fruits to my labor… literally.

It took me about half an hour before I even saw the gravel path that I had departed from; I emerged from the trees, and faces turned to stare at me. There were a lot of people.

Many refugees from Bys had fled the fallen city, and were now trying to enter the neighboring towns and cities for shelter and protection. But people did not like refugees; the last few towns and cities I passed by had already closed their borders. They were only letting in a few hundred to a few thousand people at most, and I had been one of the latecomers, alongside the other people in the road. We were all refugees.

But I was not like them; I was branded as a slave, and the mark on my face was still there. Anyone looking to make some quick gold could just yank me off the streets and sell me to the highest bidder. Obviously, that would be a problem for me, so I had wrapped a piece of cloth around my head, covering the mark— partially obscuring my vision— and tied it tightly.

The best description I had for it was that it was… a headscarf. Like the ones used for religious purposes even until the 21st century; definitely not like the kind of headscarves you saw on workers tilling the fields on a hot and sunny day. So it was safe to say, I stood out a little bit.

This kind of fashion did not exist in this world, or if it did, it was not something you saw around the Free Lands. So in addition to coming off the beaten path like I was Little Red Riding Hood herself, I was dressed like a beaten version of her too. Suffice to say, people stared at me.

I kept my head down, and trudged along the gravel road. Or maybe I was limping. I didn’t know. The pain from my sprained ankle had disappeared, and a numb feeling had taken its place.

I just continued walking down the road until the city appeared in the distance; I blinked and looked up, relief overcoming me as I saw the open gates.

They’re letting people in! They’ll let me in!

I wanted to jump and throw my hands in the air, then sprint straight through the gates and into the city. But I did not. I had no energy to do that; so I had to make do with just imagining it.

There was quite a long queue to enter the city, which I joined and proceeded to make myself as small as possible once again.

I fished into my pockets, and counted the coins I had picked up off the ground in the last week and a half. I had 2 silver and 21 bronze coins, which was quite a lot, but also expected, considering the rush everyone fleeing Bys had been in just after its fall. I could only imagine all the delicious food I could buy with this.

I felt my mouth drooling as I slowly floated my way to the front of the line. Mm, I can finally eat proper food! I didn’t care if the cooking here is incomparable to the refinement of modern earth delicacies— food is food, and I’m hungry.

I let out a sigh of relief as I reached the front of the line; I adjusted my headscarf, and prepared some coins to pay for the entrance fee. Alright, it shouldn’t be more than a single silver coin, so I’ll still have 41 bronze left—

"Three silver."

I blinked.

"What?"

"You heard me, kid. Three silver to enter."

"But— but that’s…"

That’s very expensive. That was probably what the average person in this world made in a month! Well, maybe that was not true for people in richer countries like the Rem Republic or the Xan Empire or the Taw Kingdom; but that was certainly true here in the Free Lands! That’s expensive!

The guard was tapping his fingers impatiently by now, and looked like he was about to yell at me. I quickly spoke up before he could send me away.

"Wait, but I’m a child! Shouldn’t I get a lower price or something?" I sputtered. I desperately looked up at the guard with my best attempt at puppy dog eyes, but the man was unfazed.

"Listen, kid. That is the cost of entry for children. Three silver for kids, and five silver for adults. You don’t like it? Too bad. It’s only there to keep refugees like you from overflowing the city. Now pay up, or get lost." The guard slammed one hand on his desk, and pointed away from the city with his other.

I felt the coins in my fingers, and hesitated. But only for a moment. I looked up at the city before me; it was a place of civilization, and a safe haven from the dangers of nature. And I sighed.

I really hate this world.

Then I forked up the entrance fee, and felt my delicious dinner disappearing from my grasps.

This city… was not big.

It did not have any grand landmarks to define it, nor did it have any impressive fortifications to protect it; its tallest buildings did not come close to a hundred feet, while the city walls stood only 15 foot tall, with only a handful of watch towers littered along its perimeter. Suffice to say, this was a fairly regular city.

I entered the city, and stared around. The first thing I saw was an argument between a man and some guards.

"Are you sure you haven't seen her? She’s a young woman, brown hair, about this tall. She said she would wait here for me."

"I’m sorry, sir. But we haven’t seen anyone like that."

"But she left before me! She should be here—"

"Sir, please calm down. The roads haven’t been safe after the fall of Bys. A Monster could have gotten to her, or maybe... something else. We’ve been getting some reports about young women going missing—"

My eyes glazed over this; I continued scanning around the surroundings, searching for what I was looking for. I saw a young man— maybe in his mid-twenties— dressed in blue robes with a small backpack and holding what looked like a hiking stick. He was grinning to himself, when our eyes met for a second. But I looked past him, and started for the market street.

I walked past the small fountain in the center of the plaza, and ignored the chattering of this city’s people as they watched the refugees slowly stream in.

"Hey, that girl’s traveling alone. Should we help her? Where are her parents?"

"I don’t know, but I don’t think we should. Maybe they’re dead. Or maybe they left her? Like because of some sort of disease."

"A disease? That would explain why she looks… sick. She might even have the plague!"

"Goddess grace us, if she’s got the Noxeus, we need to tell—"

I sighed for the millionth time today, but said nothing. It was still early in the evening; the sun was on its way down, casting a beautiful orange glow on the clouds above. I turned a few corners, then found myself at a marketplace-like street.

It was crowded. Vendors lined the sides of the street, as customers crowded around the shops to buy things. There was shouting and talking, and all kinds of food being sold at the stalls. I took in the fragrance of delicious food cooked with all kinds of spices, and listened to the chatter of hundreds of other people drown out my rumbling stomach.

I waded my way through the crowd, and looked about at the stores selling food; I tried not to grimace as I stared at the cost of everything.

Four bronze for a loaf of bread? I’d rob a house for bread that good!

It was like they doubled the price of everything because of all the refugees coming in; what a bunch of jerks!

I turned around to storm off in search of something I could actually afford, when I bumped into a leg. Ouch.

"Watch it brat—" a gruff voice came.

I quickly picked myself up and bowed my head to apologize. "I’m sorry, sir. I’ll watch where I’m going next time," I spoke hastily.

The man was blinking, but I didn’t wait to hear a response; I turned around and started to walk off in a random direction. Don’t want to attract any attention.

My headscarf was still on tight, so I was certain no one saw the mark on my face. But you never knew what could happen. I was being cautious! I was not going to let myself be chained up again, no matter what happened.

I continued searching for something within my price range, but to no avail. It was nearing the end of the evening, so some stalls were beginning to close shop for the day; I was running out of time! The cheapest store I found was a fruit stand; they were selling apples at 2 bronze each. I did not have enough to pay for it, but I could negotiate.

I walked up to the vendor who was busy showing off some exotic berries he had in stock to a handful of customers. I called out to him.

"Excuse me! Excuse me—"

"What do you want, kid? Can’t you see I’m busy?" he growled.

"I’m sorry, sir. I was looking through your wares, and I was hoping to buy some fruits. But I only have a single bronze coin, sir. I’m not looking for handouts, but if I could possibly get a discount—"

The fruit vendor's eyebrows scrunched up, and he snapped at me. "Go away, beggar. I don’t want your dirty coin. And I don’t want you scaring away my customers."

Blinking, I realized that the other customers were staring at me and murmuring. What’s with everyone being mean to kids? Jerks!

I took a deep breath, and tried once more. This time, appealing to his emotions instead. "Please, sir. I haven’t eaten in days and—"

I couldn’t even finish.

"I said beg elsewhere. Now leave or I’ll make you leave," the man snarled at me.

I drew my lips into a thin line. I didn’t like this man. He was a massive jerk. I met his glare for a second, then sighed.

"Fine," I muttered the word.

Then I grabbed a box full of apples, and knocked it off the table. "Oops." I grinned.

Dozens of red fruits tumbled to the ground and rolled into the street; the fruit vendor shouted in outrage, as he grabbed for his fallen wares.

"Here, I’ll help." I began gathering some of the fallen apples, and placed a few back into the box it fell out of. I was reaching for another one when—

The fruit vendor slapped at my hand and shouted. "Don’t touch it! You’ll dirty my goods!"

I folded my arms, and spoke with a feigned annoyance. "Geez, I was only trying to help, but if you want me to leave so badly, then I’ll leave."

The man gave me a look that told me he felt like strangling me. I grinned back at him, then turned around— arms still folded— and left the stall as he picked up the last of his dropped fruits.

I walked down the street, made a few turns around several corners, then ducked into an alley when I was several blocks away. There, I finally unfolded my arms, revealing two glistening red objects hiding underneath my sleeves.

I held one apple on each hand, my mouth watering as I eyed my meal. I did feel a little bit guilty; stealing felt wrong to me even if the one being stolen from did deserve it. Perhaps that was a carryover of my principles from my past lift. But the fruit vendor did very much deserve it, and I was hungry, so I did it anyways.

I opened my mouth, and took a bite; the apple crunched as my teeth penetrated the red layer of skin and into the juicy insides of the fruit. The succulent pulp fell onto my tongue, and began to melt on the wet bed of saliva it was resting on. I felt a strong catharsis wash over me, as I savored the first piece of food I had in forever

I swallowed, then paused. I stared at the piece of fruit in my hands. I bit once more. Then twice. And began to ravenously tear into the apple.

I vaguely remembered something about how eating too much when severely malnutritioned could be deadly. But I didn’t care. I was hungry, so I just ate. Plus it was only two apples! There was no way that could kill me.

Famous last words, I thought, stopping myself after I finished the first apple. I pocketed the second apple and threw the core of the eaten fruit onto the ground. I dusted my hands off, then turned to leave the alleyway, but found myself bumping into something.

A man was standing in front of me, blocking the exit from me. The fruit vendor? No…

My thoughts were interrupted as the man reached out—

"Wait, I didn’t steal—" I hurriedly spoke out, but the man ignored me.

He grabbed the cloth covering my face, and pulled it off me. My long black hair fell down the side of my face, and I rapidly closed and opened my eyes as my vision was no longer partially obscured.

I could see better now, and I saw it was not the fruit vendor, but the man whom I bumped into earlier. But wait… I slowly raised a hand up, and patted at my face— at the brand upon my skin. I froze.

"I knew it." The man’s voice was sharp.

Wha— how? How did he— I could feel my heart rate picking up as the man looked over me.

The man tossed the piece of cloth aside and grinned. "I knew I recognized that black hair. You can hide the Mancis Brand, but you can’t hide everything."

I took a step back, and the man took a step forward. Have I met him before? He continued.

"You! Because of you, my best friend and I were stationed in night duty. And now he’s dead. I’ll— I’ll make you pay for that."

My mind was spinning. Who is he? He seems... familiar. But I don’t remember…

"You were with the Beastkin, weren’t you? Yes. I remember. You’ll be worth a lot when I sell you. Maybe… 50 gold? Yes, you’ll make me rich."

With Rin and Shang? Wait— Then it all clicked. He was one of the two guards in Bys. The ones at the gate who inspected us. Apparently his friend died? Was it the twisted pedophile who ogled me? Good—

What are you doing, idiot? Run now, think later! I broke out of my stupor, and legged it.

"Come back here—"

The man lunged after me, but I stepped to the side. I ran down the alleyway, the man hot on my heels. I made my way to a corner, and continued on as fast as I could.

But I was only a kid. This was a grown adult. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see him catching up fast. I grabbed a wooden crate full of disposed items, and threw it on the ground behind me. He stumbled for a second, but managed to regain his footing and was on my tail again.

I turned another corner, and then another. He was right behind me again by now. I ran around the next corner, and came face to face with two paths: left or right.

Right is always right… right?

Wrong. I ran down the right alley, and was met with a dead end with some clothes hanging in the building overhead. I heard the footsteps coming closer and closer. I didn’t think, I just moved.

I raised my hand, a magic circle already forming in it, and pulled. My mage hand yanked at the poles up top, dropped the clothes down.

The man turned the corner, but was immediately blinded by the falling laundry. He fumbled for his head, as I scrambled under him to the other side.

I looked up and saw a light at the end of the alleyway. I can do it. My legs burned as I sprinted for the exit—

A hand grabbed me from behind, and threw me further back into the darkness. "I’ve got you now."

I fell to the ground. I tried to pick myself up, but the man was holding me down.

"Don’t struggle, you’re only making it harder for the both of us."

I tried to back away, but he only pulled me closer. I felt my heart pounding in my chest, and tears falling from my eyes. No—

I instinctively raised my hand, releasing a bolt of blue magic at the man. The man’s head jerked. He saw the flash of light, and just barely dodged out of the way. The man froze, and so did I.

"That was… magic?" the man said in disbelief. Then it changed to horror. "You— you’re a heretic!"

"No! I’m—"

The man let go of me. He stumbled as he began to back away.

"Heretic!" he shouted, voice full of terror. "Where are the guards? Where are the—"

The man spun around, and fled for the exit. I panicked. I raised my hand to shoot a second spell. But I hesitated. And so the man escaped—

A shadowed figure stood at the end of the alley, blocking the exit for the man. The man took a step back as the person entered the alley. It was a man.

A young man with blue hair and green eyes entered the alleyway. He was dressed in a light blue scapular worn over his darker shaded tunic, with a hood raised over his head. He had a small sack at his back, and a long wooden stick—- about as tall as he was— on his right hand.

The former guard from Bys walked up to this young man, and began to babble out in droves.

"Please, young man. You have to help me! Or get the guards— anything!" the man spoke wildly. He raised an arm and pointed back at me. "This little girl— she’s a heretic. One of them Demon lovers. She used— she did magic!"

The young man inclined his head to the side. "Magic?" he asked.

"Yes, magic! I saw it myself," the other man spoke hurriedly, "she’s—"

"She’s a Dark Acolyte." The younger man interrupted him. "And you’re scared of her. Even though she’s a little girl?" he asked.

"Yes!"

"I see." The young man nodded his head. "Do you think she might be one of the— ah, Dark Crusaders?"

"Huh— I don’t know! Just get the guards!"

"Hm, I don’t think I will do that."

"What?"

The other man stared at the young man, mouth agape; he tried to say something, but was immediately interrupted.

"You see, I don’t think the young lady has done anything wrong. She doesn’t seem very threatening, so it’s not anything worth calling the guards over. It’s not like she’s a Dark Crusader, right?"

"But she’s a heretic!" The man was outraged. "I don’t care if she’s a Dark Crusader— she does magic!" He stomped a foot down, and pointed at me emphatically.

"Ah, that would be quite problematic for you, then."

"And why would that be the case?"

"Because not everyone who does magic is dangerous. Whereas everyone in the Dark Crusaders are very much so. If you can’t differentiate the two, you could get hurt."

"How so?!" The guard from Bys nearly tore his hair out.

"Well, take a look at her. She’s just someone who does magic. You can tell she’s not a Dark Crusader since she hasn’t killed you yet. Not very dangerous."

The young man pointed down at me, and I blinked. He continued.

"Meanwhile, take a look at me." The young man pointed back at himself, and a grin spread across his face. "I’m a Dark Crusader, and I’m very dangerous."

Then there was a glow. A magic circle formed at the tip of his staff, as he pointed it at the other man.

The man tried to step back, but he was too slow. The wind blade cut halfway into his neck; he collapsed onto his knees, wide eyed, and trying to speak. But nothing came out. He fell and slowly drowned in his own blood.

The young man stepped over the dying man, and walked up to me. I instinctively backed up, but he raised his hands placatingly.

"Calm down. I’m a friend," he said reassuringly.

"W-who—" I took a deep breath, and cleared my throat. "Who are you? Why did you help me?"

I knew he said he was from the Dark Crusaders, and was a friend, but I didn’t know who he was; he could have his own plans for me. Why should I trust him just because he helped me?

I had to know. I felt the mana in the world around me, and prepared myself. Just to be safe.

The young man glanced at my fingertips, then back at me.

"Ah, I can see that you’re cautious. But I can assure you, I am no enemy. So please, be at ease. There’s no need to have a spell at hand."

My eyes widened, and he smirked.

I hadn’t even done any magic yet; there were no magic circles and no glowing light. I did not cast a spell, only preparing myself to cast a spell. Yet he could tell. How did he kn—

"How did I know?" the young man snorted. "That was what you were thinking, was it not?"

I slowly nodded my head, and relaxed a little. Only then did he lower his hands.

The young man looked at me from head to toe, then drew one foot back and lowered his upper body. At the same time, he brought one hand up to his chest, and the other to behind his back. He bowed and scraped, as I stared blankly at him.

"Well, to answer that and your first question: I am first and foremost a Dark Acolyte such as you. But beyond that, I am a child genius who picked up the study of magic far later than he would have liked but was still given the title of a Disciple. I am also a member of the Dark Crusaders, a rather famous organization which I am certain you are acquainted with. My given name is Victorianus, although I prefer to be simply called ‘Victor’ by my peers."

Victor held his bow for a few more seconds, before he spoke again. "Ah, and to answer your second question—"

The young man slowly returned to a standing position. He straightened his robes, and cleared his throat. He met my gaze, and then he grinned.

"I helped you because you are the daughter of the Fiend."

Chapter 25: Dark Crusader

"I helped you because you are the daughter of the Fiend."

Victorianius Valens, or simply Victor, spoke casually. He had never met the little girl prior to this moment, and yet he knew what he was speaking to be true. She was the child of Valeria Aimy Corinna.

That was the conclusion he had reached just earlier.

The young man had spotted her almost an hour earlier, back near the entrance of the city. And although her face was partially obscured, Victor— astute as he was— spotted the rare black hair and unique silver eyes even so. With that observation, he had formed a simple hypothesis. The girl had to be related to the Fiend.

But in what way?

Black hair as a human meant she was of the Corinna family, but that did not necessarily mean she was the Fiend’s daughter. Silver eyes however, was a trait that only the former-Lady Valeria and her mother were known to possess. And still, that did not confirm anything.

But Victor was both a genius and an intellectual. His curiosity had been piqued, and he was not just going to let his question go unanswered

The blue haired man followed the girl and monitored her every action. He took note of everything she did, and paid attention to the movement of the mana surrounding her.

After all, if she was the Fiend’s daughter, it was highly likely that she was taught magic by her mother. And at the end of the day, a child is a child. So even if she was as prodigal as her mother, she would have not had the maturity to hold herself back from doing magic involuntarily.

Victor was disappointed when there was no disturbance in the ambient mana during the whole incident at the fruit stand. However, he did not let that cloud his judgement, and he continued his observation. Finally, his dedication paid off.

The girl was chased through an alleyway by a man trying to sell her into slavery. Victor did not follow them in, because that would have been too conspicuous. Instead, he focused on the mana around the vicinity of the alley.

And when the mana in the air was not just momentarily disrupted, but also fully manipulated, Victor finally came to his conclusion. The same conclusion that he had just presented to the subject herself.

The girl was the Fiend’s daughter.

Victor looked down at her. He saw a wide eyed stare. Her jaws were wide open, working for words to say. Such a deduction could have only been made by one as brilliant as he was.

The young man couldn’t help but revel in the moment. His lips curled up to a smirk, as the girl looked on at him amazed. Just like how he predicted her thoughts, and noticed her pre-spellcasting, he had left her dumbfounded.

There was nothing to say. Nothing but praise, perhaps. And even then, how could you articulate it? Victor did not know, but he waited to hear her comments. Waited for her to find the right words to say.

And finally, she spoke.

"...who?"

***

Many thoughts were flying through my mind at the moment. They were mostly questions like who was this ‘Fiend’? How was I her daughter? What was this guy even talking about? Was he mistaking me for someone else? Suffice to say, I was very confused right now.

I thought he would elaborate, but he just stared at me expectantly. So I said the only thing that was in my mind at the moment: who?

I guess that was not the reply he was waiting for, since the smile vanished off his face; the young man frowned, and placed a hand on his chin.

"...the Fiend?"

"Yes. Who’s that?" I asked dumbly.

"Lady Valeria."

"Uh, I still don’t know who that is."

"Valeria Aimy Corinna!" Victor snapped. He raised his hands and waved it in the air wildly. "A former Lady of the Ducal house Corrina in the Holy Xan Empire! She was disgraced and disowned when she was found to be a heretic, and went on to become one of the founding members of the Shadow’s Evangelium. That’s who the Fiend is!"

"Oh…" I blinked. The Shadow’s Evangelium? I recognized that! That was the organization my mom was in. Which means— "You mean my mom?" I asked.

"That’s what I said!" he shouted.

Victor looked ready to tear all his hair out; I sort of understand his frustration since I probably should have realized who this ‘Fiend’ was earlier just by context clues alone, but I’ve only ever known my mother as… Aria.

Although mom taught me a lot of things about this world, she never liked talking about her past life much; I had only ever gotten bits of information which I used to piece together a rough idea of her history, but I never knew she was called the ‘Fiend’.

"I see." I nodded my head slowly. But Victor did not seem satisfied with my reaction.

The young man had his arms crossed, and was tapping his fingers impatiently, as if he was expecting me to say something else. I continued to stare at him for a few more seconds before I finally spoke. "What?"

The tapping stopped. Victor’s eyebrows furrowed for a second, then he took a deep breath and sighed. "Is there anything you want to say? Anything you want to ask?"

"Uh,"— I raised my eyebrows and shrugged— "does that mean I’m a Duke’s daughter…?"

Victor inhaled sharply, and pinched the bridge of his nose. This time, I was the one to frown.

"I’m sorry Mr Victor, but I don’t even know you. What do you want from me?"

Victor just shook his head and muttered under his breath. "Nevermind."

"What? I’m curious now! Come on, what was I supposed to say?" I threw both arms in the air, but he ignored me.

"So, you are the Fiend’s daughter." Victor inclined his head to the side.

"Oh— uh, I guess so?"

"Interesting. And I take it by her absence and you being on your lonesome, that something has happened to her: either death or abandonment?"

I felt a pain strike my chest; for a moment, I almost couldn’t find the voice to speak, but I managed to utter a few words. "That’s… blunt. But it’s the former. She— my mom’s dead."

"Ah." Victor nodded his head. "You have my condolences. The Fiend—"

"Can you please stop calling her that?" I stared up at the young man. "I don’t think she likes the name. If she did, she would’ve told me about it. But she didn’t." My voice came out soft, barely a whisper.

Victor blinked, then sighed. "Very well. You have my apologies and my condolences. But the Fi— your mother, was someone I looked up to. Truth be told, I would have loved to have met her, but she disappeared when I was only a child. Believe me, her loss is truly a tragic one for us all."

"Thank you." I bowed my head slightly.

"Of course." Victor rubbed a finger on his nose and sniffed. "Now, I’m sure you have more questions to ask of me, and I do have some for you as well. But I don’t believe it would be wise for us to stand around here any longer," he spoke casually.

"Why not?" I blinked.

But he was not listening. Victor had thrown his hood over his head, and was now digging into his bag; he grabbed a shirt and tossed it at me. "Cover your head with this," he said simply.

I did as I was told, but the question still remained on my mind. "Wait, but why rush?" I glanced down at the dead man at his feet and pointed. "You killed him, didn’t you? We’re fine for now... right?"

"Well, in any other scenario, I’m sure we’d be able to stay in the city for at least a day or two before they discover who did this. But"— he gestured around at the alleyway around us— "people do live in these houses. And this man was shouting quite loudly about your… ‘heresy’."

The realization sunk in before he even finished. But it took me a second to work my mouth.

"You mean that—"

"City guards will be arriving right about… now."

"Halt!" a voice bellowed into the alley from the outside. About half a dozen guards armed with swords and spears were gathering at the exit, and more were on their way.

"Right on cue." Victor gave me a smirk, then turned to face the exit.

I felt my heart begin to race as I stared at the carefully encroaching guards; they had their weapons raised and were shouting something at us. I backed up, hurriedly speaking. "Wait— what do we do?"

"Didn’t I tell you? I’m a Dark Crusader." The young man did not even turn around to face me. He took a step forward. "Do you at least know what that means?"

I blinked. Everything I ever learned about them flew through my head. And I realized, I did know that meant, actually.

"That means you’re a terrorist." I frowned.

"Well, I prefer the term zealot. But you are correct." Victor raised his staff and pointed it at the guards. "I am indeed a terrorist."

Then a red magic circle flashed in the air in front of him, and a ball of fire flew at the exit.

The Fireball landed right outside the alley, detonating behind the fleeing guards. A loud, ringing noise filled my eardrums as the explosion blasted a crater on the brick road, crumbling parts of the stonework on the walls closest to it. The shockwave knocked me off balance, and I began coughing as wispy gray smoke filled my vision.

I felt a hand grab me, pulling me upright; Victor steadied me on my feet, and turned my face to him. His mouth was moving. It was like he was saying something, but I could barely make it out.

"I can’t hear you!" I yelled back at him and pointed to my ear.

Victor grasped me by the shoulders, and leaned over my ear. "Follow me. Just trust me." He whispered.

I blinked as sound and sight returned. And then felt myself being pulled along by the man.

"I—" I tried to speak, but a cough came out instead.

We burst out of the alleyway. My gaze swung across the street, glazing over the charred bodies of the guards. Screams and shouts came from all around me as civilians ran in terror. But I didn’t have time to take all this in.

More guards poured out from a street in the distance. Victor tugged at my arm, and we ran the other way. We ran around the dying flames, and I hopped over a black and burnt corpse.

Victor ran down the street and I followed him. A group of guards appeared ahead of us, and we ducked into a side street. He shoved aside a man as we forced our way through the narrow space.

We turned a corner, then another. Left, then right, then left again. A clamoring of footsteps followed after us as we turned the next corner—

A dead end.

Victor did not hesitate. He picked me up and threw me over the ten foot stone wall. He backed up a bit, giving himself a running start. He jumped, kicked off the wall, and gripped at the edge, pulling himself over. I helped him on his feet, and we were off.

We lowered ourselves down the other side, and Victor ran up to the closest door. He tried to swing it open, but it did not budge. He raised his staff, and shot a bolt of energy at its handle, knocking it open.

The two of us barged in as a screaming family backed away from us. We ran through the living room, knocking over all the furniture behind us. Then we sprinted down the hallway and out the front door.

We came out to another side street with two guards passing by. Victor immediately shot two wind blades one after another. One of them barely managed to draw his blade before the magical attack slit his throat, while the second ducked out of the way. By the time he got back up, we were gone.

Corner after corner, we turned. My legs were burning. But I ran. Around another intersection, more guards. And they had guns.

They opened fire at us, as we ran the other way. Victor blocked a bolt of energy with his staff, and let go of my hand. "Go, I’m right behind you!" he shouted.

He deflected another two bolts, then fired a small missile of magic back at them. I saw flashes of yellow light coming from Victor as I ran for the stairs. But the gunfire did not cease.

I flinched as I took my first step. I bit my tongue as bullets soared overhead, and took the second. The third. And then the rest.

I flew down the first flight of stairs, sprinting as fast as I could. I kept up my pace as I approached the next flight, and jumped over all the steps.

I felt a sharp pain on my knees as I landed, and shifted the forward momentum into a roll. I got back up and stumbled a bit, but was back to running in an instant.

I ran out an exit, and into the market street. There were dozens of guards running past stalls as people fled indoors. My eyes flickered to a wagon as the driver hopped off and ran away. Victor appeared backing up behind me, as I pointed.

"Horse, there!" I called out.

The young man’s head snapped to the horse-and-cart at the same time as a guard saw me. I knocked over a nearby fruit stand, and Victor made a dash for the animal.

He hopped on top of the animal, and cut its bindings as he did. I followed behind him. He reached out and pulled me up in front of him. Victor clasped at the horse’s reins, and it took off in a gallop. Some guards tried to block our way, but Victor blasted them apart with magic.

A swordsman raised his shield to block the glowing yellow missile. It exploded on impact, and sent the man’s arm flying. He collapsed on the ground, screaming in agony. It was like Marcus’s gun!

More guards ran at us, but Victor tore through them. A spearman ran from carnage, as another swordsman had his head blown off. A rifler took aim at us—

But I shot a bolt of fire at her. I missed, of course. Yet it served its purpose as she ducked for cover from my attack.

We made our way down a few more streets before we saw the city gates. A row of guards formed a spear wall just before the fountain, and guards from the walls aimed their guns and bows at us. Someone was lowering the portcullis. They’re trying to lock us in!

We zigzagged down the road as bolts of energy and arrows flew past us. Victor raised his staff up, and a dark green magic circle appeared above his head. Small bits of stone broke off our surroundings, forming four shapes hovering over us.

A volley of glowing blue bolts shot at us, and Victor pulled on the reins. We made a sharp turn, dodging the hail of bullets, and ran straight at the spear wall.

The Dark Crusader pointed his staff forwards as four spears of stone finished taking shape overhead. They shot forward like a ballista. Two flew at the guards on the battlements and two flew at the spear wall. It tore into the ranks of guards barring our path, and with a yank, Victor made the horse leap over the opening.

The horse was galloping as fast as it could, past the fountain, towards the walls. A storm of projectiles flew at us, and Victor put both hands on his staff. A translucent barrier covered us like an umbrella, the rain of fire pattering on it.

We were almost there! But the gates were closing too fast. Victor was focusing on his magical barrier. He couldn’t do anything. But I could.

I turned my attention to the portcullis. I saw the guard lowering the chain, and pointed. My arms were shaking, but still three blue magical bolts flashed through the air at him.

The first missed, but the second struck his arm. Blood trickled out of it, and he flinched. And finally, the third sent him ducking for cover.

With that, the gates stopped closing. Victor ducked his head under the metal spikes of the grille. And with that, we were through. Past the gates, and into our escape!

I spun around and watched as the city disappeared into the darkness. Torchlight from the walls and gunfire were the only things lighting up the night. Their shots echoed in the distance, but the bullets just bounced off Victor’s barrier.

And finally, the shooting ceased. The only sounds left was the sound of a horse running on dirt.

I felt my beating heart slowly return to normal. My hands slowly stopped trembling. And then, a thought idly crossed my mind.

So... am I not a Duke’s daughter?

"Owowowow—" I flinched.

"Hold still. It hurts more if you keep moving."

"I know that! I’m trying!"

Victor sighed. He carefully uncorked the bottle he was holding with one hand, and raised my right leg with the other; I grimaced, but managed to keep still.

The young man carried the potion over my ankle, then paused. He raised his head thoughtfully. "Is this your first time getting a healing potion applied on you?" he asked.

"No. My mom used one on me before. When I lost my arm." I gestured my head to my right side, then I shrugged. "But I was unconscious then," I replied.

Victor blinked. "A healing potion regenerated your arm?"

"No, no." I waved a hand to the side. "It reattached my arm."

"Ah, of course not. Only a truly talented alchemist could concoct such a mixture. And in addition to the amount of time required to make it, it probably would cost in the hundreds— if not thousands— of gold."

"Oh, ok."

"Yes. But you were unconscious, correct?" Victor waited for me to nod in affirmation before he continued. "Then this experience is still new for you."

Blinking, I asked, "What experience? You mean… being healed?"

Victor nodded his head. "Now, now. There’s no need to worry. You’ve only got a few bruises, a few small cuts, and a torn muscle. It only gets slightly uncomfortable for injuries like this." He spoke reassuringly.

Slowly, he turned the bottle over, and a translucent red liquid poured over my leg. I felt an odd sensation pass through me; it was almost like the pins and needle feelings you got after sitting down for too long. And at the same time, I could feel the tissues of my body— the flesh and the skin— mending, like a surgeon was sewing it all together.

Except there was no surgery. It was all happening by a healing potion: I saw my skin shift and cover the thin red lines on my leg; I felt the muscle underneath tense for a second and then relax back into normalcy; there was a sense of catharsis that washed over me, as the short moment of unease came and went, and everything felt better than before.

Victor finished pouring the potion over my right leg, and brought it over to the other. There were no muscle tears there, but there were a few cuts and marks still. So he tipped over the bottle, letting a few drops heal the very minor injuries.

I got up from the rock I was sitting on, and stood on my feet. I took a few steps and stretched my legs a bit.

"All better?" Victor asked.

"Mhm." I nodded my head.

It really did feel better; I probably got a mild strain back in Bys, and it must have recovered somewhat before I tore it again earlier. I swear, if I wasn’t in a life or death scenario and I tried to run, I probably would have collapsed in pain. Adrenaline is a hell of a drug!

But there were a lot of things I couldn’t have done if not for the urgency of the situation; I remembered sending bolts of magic at the guards in trying to escape. I never could’ve done that normally. I… didn’t kill them, did I?

No. The most I did was injure one guy’s hand. And it was not like it was a permanent injury— I didn’t even leave a gaping hole where my magic struck, just a cut! Not a small cut. Probably more like a gash. And even if I did somehow kill them, I had not other choice, right?

But still, my conscience was not clear. At all.

I sighed, and turned to Victor. At least I can walk normally now. I bowed my head slightly to the young man.

"Thank you," I said the words sincerely.

Victor grinned and nodded his head. "Ah, of course. It was my pleasure to assist the daughter of Lady Valeria. And it just occurred to me, you never gave me your name," he pointed out.

I raised my head back up, and met his gaze. "Melas. My name is Melas, Mr Victor." I smiled and put a hand out.

The young man blinked. He slowly took my hand, and bowed. "Please, Melas. There’s no need for formalities— Victor is perfectly fine. And although it is a rather abrupt question, I was wondering what you were going to do now?" he asked with a hint of a smile.

This time, it was my turn to blink. "Uh, what do you mean?" I asked in return.

Victor took a step back, and cleared his throat. "Ah, I understand that it is quite a difficult query— and I do apologize for pressing it— but I believe for your own safety it’s necessary to ask: what happens next for you?"

I stared at him blankly. It’s not like I didn’t understand the question; I knew perfectly well what he was asking me. But my mind was just drawing a blank at the moment, so I said nothing. And he continued.

"Right now, you’re safe with me, of course. But back in the city, you were in imminent danger of being killed for your… magick. And moments before that, you were in imminent danger of being turned into a slave."

My hand shot up to my face. I grasped at the mark near my eye, and grimaced. "Could you—"

"Unfortunately not." Victor interrupted me. He took a deep breath, and sighed. "That is the symbol of the Mancis Company, yes? They are quite famous for their slaves all throughout the Free Lands. And those they imprint their logo on are considered extremely valuable; removing it is no easy task."

I crossed my arms over my chest. "Why not? If a healing potion can mend muscle underneath the flesh, why can’t it remove this stupid mark?"

"Sadly, it is more than just a mark. I know it may seem like a simple burn scar, but I took a look at it earlier. Try to think of a stamp and how it adds a layer of ink on top of a surface. Well, this works similarly in that it creates a layer of this complex mixture of liquid mana, black dye, and other substances, on top of you. Except that it seeps into the scorched skin left behind from the burns, and turns it into this hard darkened skin which… is your skin now."

"Then can’t I just cut it off and heal it back that way?"

"Well, going back to my stamp analogy: it’s a stamp that changes the paper, rather than simply layer over it. A regular healing potion would not affect it at all as it thinks everything is fine and that there is no problem at all. And if you were to maybe cut off the scarred skin, and try to heal with a potion, it would simply regenerate the darkened skin back, as most healing potions return your injuries to the state it was before it got damaged. Only a high grade healing potion would return it to normal, since they restore your body to as pristine a condition as possible. The Mancis Company probably had a mana tool designed specifically to remove the 'stamp', so a cheap, regular healing potion could heal the burn mark. But unfortunately I do not have that, or a high grade healing potion."

I slumped my shoulders and sighed. "Can’t you at least try?" I asked meekly.

Victor shook his head apologetically. He tipped over his bottle, and nothing came out. "As you can see, I’m out of healing potions. It was a fairly low quality one, and it was half empty before I used the rest for you. But there are more average quality potions where I’m headed. You could of course try them if you’d like if you feel like following me. However, that once again begs the question: what are you going to do now?"

"Oh, uh, I don’t know? Follow you and try that, I guess? It’s not like I really have anywhere else to go, and this stupid mark just paints a huge target on my back." I raised my shoulders uncertainly.

"But what happens after? Let’s say we somehow remove that mark from your face. Would you just go back into the world, and pretend to live like normal? Or better yet, what do you— Melas— really want?"

"What do I want?" I blinked.

"Yes. I’ve seen your magic. Your control over mana is excellent for a child. Something that should’ve been expected, knowing your mother. And yet, it’s even beyond that. You’d be a great boon if you joined our cause." Victor extended an arm towards me.

What is this, some sort of cult? MLM? Jehovah’s Witness?! I stared at him. At the young man who saved my life. And I saw a glimmer in his eyes.

I looked at his outstretched hand. At the offer he gave me. I wanted to take it, I really did. But I hesitated.

"By joining your cause, do you mean join the Dark Crusaders?"

"Yes." He nodded.

"So you want me to become a terrorist." I narrowed my eyes.

"As I said before, the more appropriate term is zealots. Personally, I believe that is a far better fate than being a slave. And I don’t just mean the kind of slavery that exists in the Free Lands. But a kind of slavery that the Holy Xan Empire holds over all of us with their false teachings. After all, aren’t they the reason for your mother’s death?"

My gaze snapped up to meet his; there was no grin and no knowing look. His face was serious. His eyes locked onto mine.

"...how did you know?"

"The same way I knew you were her daughter: an educated guess. Your mother was a rather prominent figure for over a decade. A thorn in the shoulder of the Church that just disappeared, leaving behind a mark that they would never forget. Even in obscurity, it was only a matter of time before a team of Inquisitors, or a Saint or Saintess found her."

"I see." I felt… angry. Victor was right; the Holy Xan Empire was wrong. They killed my mother. Took away the only light in my second life. I—

"You asked me earlier. About what I really want. I… don’t know. I think— I thought I wanted revenge. To hurt those who have wronged me. And yet…" I shuffled my feet.

I didn’t know. I remembered my mom. My slavery. My death. And something burned inside me.

But I also remembered death. And more recently, I remembered blasting a guard— someone who was trying to kill me— with magic. And seeing the blood on his arms, and thinking that if I didn’t miss. That if I...

My stomach wretched.

I just didn’t know. And Victor noticed.

The young man slowly lowered his hand, and sighed.

"Vengeance. It is something I can sympathize with. It is a truly noble task. But a long and arduous one too. I understand that this is a difficult question, considering your young age. But it is something we all must make eventually."

But I’m not a child! I didn’t have the energy to retort. And even if I did, I wouldn’t actually say that; because let’s be honest, my situation was very complicated.

I just stood still as Victor walked away from me and to the waiting horse. He paused right in front of it, and turned to face me.

"However, until you make your decision, you can’t just wander around by yourself. These lands are not safe for you. So I put this offer out to you: come with me, and the Dark Crusaders will offer you protection."

I blinked, but he continued.

"At the very least, we can protect you until you lose that brand upon your face. Of course, if you decide to lend us your power, it would be very much appreciated. But we can’t force you; we simply offer those like us— those who see the truth of this world— some kindness, and hope that maybe they’d do the same. So what do you say?"

I met the Dark Crusaders gaze, and he just waited. I felt some reservations, but not as much as before. After all, it was an enticing offer; there were no commitments on my end, and I only received benefits in return. It would be stupid to refuse. So I took it.

"I’ll follow you. For now, at least," I finally said.

"Very good." Victor grinned. He climbed up onto the horse, and proffered a hand to me. "Come on."

"Wait, we’re going now?"

"Of course. It’s still hours from midnight, and I’d like to reach the outpost as soon as possible. Honestly, I consider what happened back in that city a blessing since I now have my own horse, and don’t just have to hitch a ride on the back of wagons. It will cut down the travel time from around a week to— maybe three days? Even less if we get going now."

"Oh, ok." I clasped his hand and sat behind him. "Let’s go then." I nodded.

Victor waited until I was securely on the horse, before pulling on the reins. The horse took off in a trot, and with that, we were on our way.

I didn’t know what was going to happen. Everything was so uncertain. Maybe I’d get my revenge. Maybe I’d join the Dark Crusaders. Or… maybe not. I didn’t know.

But for now at least, I would follow them. I would follow Victor and the Dark Crusaders, even if they were… zealots. Because hey, at least they weren’t trying to kill or enslave me, right?

...I think my worldview may be a little bit skewed.

Chapter 26: Outpost

I rode on a pony once— back on Earth. I was a young kid, barely five years old, and I enjoyed it very much.

I remembered laughing and smiling as I rode back and forth the small field. I remembered the joy in my parents faces as they took pictures of me when I turned to face them. And I remembered wanting the moment to never end. To forever ride a pony in that fairy tale world.

Well, riding a horse was not anything like that experience; it was not fun, and it was certainly not something a kid should do for extended periods of time. And especially riding for two whole days straight? Nope, I hate it.

Maybe it was because there was no saddle, but I felt like my entire lower half had gone completely numb; I just wanted to get off the horse and lie down for an hour or two. And thankfully, I could do that soon.

We had just gone off road, into the forest, and were now headed towards some hills in the distance. Apparently there was a small cell of the Dark Crusaders located here in an outpost of over a hundred people; it was one of many that could be found across the continent.

It did make sense: they were an organization composed of individuals who were oppressed and even hunted down by more than half the world. So of course they would be spread out and keep a semi-low profile.

But even with a semi-decentralized power structure, they still had a main base of operations and a functioning leadership, which was where Victor came from. And in all honesty, they were just fighting to survive; as long as I was not committing any war crimes, I decided I’d be with them for now. Plus, Victor insisted that they’re zealots— something more akin to rebels— and not terrorists.

Regardless, they could protect me and even teach me to protect myself, so I was inclined to believe Victor. I was with him now, as our horse trotted through the trees and finally arrived into a clearing.

"We’re here," the young man said, as we slowed down.

I looked up, and blinked. "Uh… are you sure?" I asked, slightly confused.

"Yes. I’m sure."

"But that..." my voice trailed off. I raised an arm and pointed. "That’s a cave."

"That is indeed a cave, yes," he replied, voice flat.

"But you told me—"

"I told you we were going to an outpost to meet with other Dark Crusaders. And this is the location. What exactly is wrong with it?" he interrupted me. The young man folded his arms, and waited for my response.

"...don’t outposts have palisades and watchtowers and stuff?" I asked dumbly.

Victor just sighed and got off the horse. He didn’t even bother to help me down, and started for the cave.

"Hey, wait for me!" I called after him.

I struggled to climb off the horse by myself. Probably shouldn’t have said anything. I mean, I was kinda joking when I answered. But still, it’s a legitimate question! The thought crossed my mind as I fell on my butt. Ouch. Yep, still sore.

To be honest, I did sort of understand the logic behind camping in a cave; being a natural formation, it was discreet enough that most of the time, no one was going to investigate it without reason. That was much better than the clearly man-made settlement I initially imagined, protruding out of the ground and visible to anyone nearby.

I shook the thoughts out of my mind as I crawled to my feet, and ran after Victor into the cave. He was already entering its mouth opening— it wasn’t that big of an opening, roughly seven foot in height at its highest.

I entered the cool dark shelter, exiting the hot afternoon sun, and caught up to the young man. I followed behind Victor as we walked further and further into the cave, and away from the natural sunlight behind us.

The narrow corridor grew in size the further in we went. Eventually, we reached a corner, and Victor raised a hand to stop me.

"Wait," he said.

I blinked and stared into the darkness ahead, seeing nothing. "Traps?" I guessed.

"Correct," Victor replied as he pointed his staff to the ground. "In this case, tripwires."

A small magical circle flashed briefly, before disappearing and being replaced by a ball of white light. It illuminated our surroundings as Victor aimed it at something glistening on the floor; several razor-thin strings hung barely off the floor ahead of us.

I gulped as I stared at the booby trapped hallway; I didn’t trust myself to not accidentally activate one of the traps, even when I could see them. Just one misstep, and boom— I’m dead.

Victor must have sensed my unease as he spoke to reassure me. "Do not worry. Most of these are just there to alert the camp inside. A silent alarm to prepare them in case people are coming."

I nodded and stepped over the first tripwire. Wait, did he say ‘most’? I thought, pausing. I’m pretty sure he said ‘most’! That means some of these can still kill me!!

I wanted to say something, but Victor wasn’t waiting for me. He briskly walked through the booby trapped section of the corridor, as I carefully— and exaggeratedly— stepped over each string. I’m not Sonic, so I don’t gotta go fast.

We continued down the winding corridor, making a few turns as we went; I was pretty sure we were descending just a little bit, but not enough to be completely underground. We avoided a few more small traps— none too big or dangerous— before we finally reached the end of the long hallway.

We stepped out into a large cavernous room, with clusters of stalagmites scattered throughout the uneven floor; there were also stalactites hanging off the ceiling, but they were almost 50 feet off the ground, and barely within my peripheral vision.

A small breeze brushed past my hair as I felt a slight chill go through me from the damp environment; mold grew on the rocks and the walls around us, giving of a slightly eerie glow that illuminated the room. The cave chamber was expansive, spreading out into a slight decline far before me. And down at the bottom, in the center of it all, was an encampment.

Tents were strewn about with torches lighting up the small settlement. A small wooden fence surrounded the camp, and I saw figures moving around in the distance. It was an outpost

Now this is what I had in mind when I imagined an outpost.

I was about to take a step forward when I heard a sound. It sounded like… string? I turned my head just in time to see something whizzing through the air straight at me.

By the time I realized what it was, I was already too late; I tried to react, but all I could do was blink. The arrow flew straight at me—

And a hand grabbed me and pulled me out of the way. The light spell disappeared as Victor raised and spun his staff in the air, deflecting another three arrows that came for us. Then he called out.

"That’s enough! We’re allies. Sent by the Infernalis."

The Dark Crusader raised his staff, and a magic circle began to form in the air. But instead of dissipating or forming a spell, magical symbols began to take shape within the perimeter of the circle; the usual complex patterns that overlapped on top of each other gave way to a… pentagram. And it was flipped.

The inverted pentagram shone red inside of the magic circle. Surrounding it were four small images of a black flame that glowed with the intensity of a real fire.

It was the symbol of the Dark Crusaders; their logo, made in homage to the home of the Demons who discovered magic. And with that very same magic, Victor formed the upside down star out of nothing.

The arrows stopped coming, and there was a moment of silence. The symbol vanished, and the young man lowered his staff. We waited.

Then slowly, out of the darkness a figure stepped into view: they wore a hood over their face, but even in the shadows, I could still faintly see their eyes. Two yellow glowing orbs stared right at me. And the figure spoke.

"Name yourself."

The figure raised their bow slightly. The arrow was nocked, but not fully pulled back on the string.

"Victorianius Valens. A Dark Acolyte, here to provide my assistance. I’m certain you should have been informed of my coming arrival," Victor replied, raising an eyebrow..

The hooded person relaxed slightly at the mention of his name. But they did not lower their weapon.

"We were told to expect you, yes. But we were also told to expect you a day from now, and to expect you to come alone."

The figure turned to me warily. I took a step back, but Victor spoke up quickly.

"The girl is with me. Who she is none of your concern. Now if you would be so kind as to lead us to Gerritt— your Commander— and lower your weapons, it would be very much appreciated." Victor then raised an arm and pointed past the figure. "And the same goes for your five… friends," he added.

The figure tensed. But only for a moment. They carefully lowered their weapon, then called out behind them. "Lower your weapons."

I looked up and blinked as more figures came out from the shadows behind the first figure. They were all carrying bows or crossbows, except for one of them who had a rifle instead. They all began to apprehensively lower their hoods, and I saw—

Glowing yellow eyes that showed barely a trace of the sclera; gray rocky skin that looked rough to touch; completely bald heads with thin eyebrows that had little hair in them; and long pointed troll-like noses. They were small too, and around my height at most. Or in other words: Goblins.

Truth be told, I knew that they were Goblins even before they revealed themselves and lowered their hoods. That was because most of this camp was made up of Goblins— Victor told me as much yesterday.

Of course he’d tell me such an important detail. He wasn’t going to wait until the last moment, only for it later to be too late. He wouldn’t do that. Who would do that?

People in movies, that’s who!

But even knowing that they were Goblins— even knowing what they would look like— I nearly recoiled. Because they were… ugly (I tried not to judge people based on their appearance, but they really weren’t good looking).

They weren’t horribly disfigured: they didn’t have a crooked face, nor were they covered with warts. But they had unnaturally large eyes— like a fish— and an unusually round head. Their proportions just seemed… off. However, I already knew what they were supposed to look like based on descriptions from Mr Walden and my mom, but it was still shocking to see them for myself to say the least. Luckily, I caught myself, and managed to not react.

The Goblins all exchanged a look, and their leader— the first one to come out— walked up to us and nodded. "Follow me," he said.

The Goblin turned around and began to walk towards the camp. Victor followed after him, and I was next, just a step behind the young man. The rest of the Goblins spread out around us— not exactly circling us completely out of fear— but in a way that still showed caution.

We made our way to the campsite, descending slightly as we went. Upon reaching the entrance, heads turned to face us— strangers arriving at the camp for the first— appraisingly. People came out of their tents to look at us as we passed by them, and they stared.

I shifted my feet uncomfortably as I continued walking past all the staring faces; it was not because they were looking at me I felt nervous. It was because they were all Goblins, and I just felt a little bit out of place.

We eventually reached the center of the encampment, and found ourselves in front of a large tent. The lead Goblin turned back around to face us. "Wait here a moment, I’ll get the Commander," he said, then turned around and entered the tent.

It was only a moment before I heard a noise coming from behind the white canvas; it sounded like stomping footsteps, as if they were rushing to get out—

The flap of the tent flew open, and a man came bursting out. A large man stood in front of me. He stood at over eight foot tall, and had the physique of a bodybuilder scaled up to his size. That meant his arms were huge, his traps were huge, his chest was huge— he was huge! An absolute unit!

Also, he was red.

The mass of pale red skin spread his arms wide as he opened his oversized jaw. "Disciple Victorianius Valens! You’ve finally arrived! And a day early, as well," he bellowed.

I flinched as his loud voice reverberated throughout my body. Victor on the other hand, did not seem bothered by it.

"Commander Gerritt, I presume," the young man stated, rather than asking. "And please, just call me Victor," he added.

"Of course." The large man nodded, then turned to face me. "And I see you brought a guest too. A little one. A… Human child?" he asked.

"Yes, she is," Victor replied in my stead.

"Hrmph, that is tremendous! I’ve seen Human children before, but I’ve never actually spoken to one. Tell me, little one, what is your name?"

I hesitated for a moment. But I managed to look up at the large man— Commander Gerritt— and met his black eyes.

"Melas," I answered.

"Melas," he uttered the words as if he were savoring it. "What a wonderful name!"

"Indeed," Victor concurred, stepping between us. "But speaking of her, there's something we need to discuss, and I would like to do so in private." He eyed the tent impatiently

"Hrmph, of course." The Orc took a step back and nodded quickly. He turned to the Goblin waiting at his back, and spoke to him. "Karna, get us some drinks and food please. And ensure no one bothers us while we speak."

The Goblin that led us here— Karna— bowed his head. "Yes Commander," he said, then took off.

Commander Gerritt opened the flap to the tent, and held an arm out. "Please, come in."

Victor bowed his head slightly as he passed by the Orc, and I followed behind uttering a thank you. We entered the large tent with Commander Gerritt, and I looked around the room. It was big.

There were different sections to the room, one being a war room complete with a long table covered in maps and other documents; we walked around it, and passed by a desk that held some sort of device. It almost looked like… a radio transmitter?

I blinked as we walked past the machine. It was definitely some sort of radio. But only powered with mana crystals instead of electricity.

We continued to some seats, and I sat down on a chair next to Victor. Across the table from us, the Orc knelt on both knees, in a sort of seiza style of sitting. Except, not on some cushion or even tatami floorboards, but the hard rock ground.

Commander Gerritt bowed his head slightly. "Apologies, Disciple— hrmph, Victor. And thank you, once again for coming. When we requested for reinforcements from the Infernalis, we were not expecting them to send a Dark Acolyte. When we got the news that you were coming, we were excited to say the least. And now you’re here a day earlier than anticipated, with a curious little one too. Suffice to say, I was a bit too eager to remember my manners."

"Ah, of course. Punctuality is one of my best traits, after all." The young man smirked to himself. Then he leaned back on his chair as he continued. "Unfortunately, my companion came as much a surprise to me as it was to you. But it was a fortuitous meeting— if I hadn’t intervened, she would likely be chained up on a podium, up for sale right now. And by my intervention, I’ve found a potential future ally."

The Orc looked at me, and stroked his gigantic maw thoughtfully. "Hrmph, I see. So that mark on her face is a slave emblem. Is it… the Mancis Company? Apologies, but I’m not too familiar with Human society."

"Yes. She was a product of the now-defunct Mancis Company—"

Victor ignored the glare I gave him for his choice of words, and continued. "But she is something much more than that, of course: she is the Fiend’s daughter."

The huge man paused and blinked. He turned to look at me carefully, inspecting me as he leaned over the table. "Hrmph, yes. I have never seen the Fiend myself, but from what I’ve heard, I am starting to see the resemblance."

Victor sighed, then took a deep breath. And spoke up, but this time sullenly.

"Yes. And tragically, it seems that the Fiend’s time had finally come to an end."

Commander Gerritt continued nodding for a moment, then froze as the words registered in his head. He turned back to the young man— the Dark Acolyte— and their eyes met. And his next words were soft; no longer the loud powerful voice it was before.

"...how?" that was all he said.

"She was in hiding, but was found out by the Church. It was a team of Inquisitors and a Saint. From what Melas told me, I believe it had to have been Saint Theron," Victor said the name with venom in his mouth.

And I would too. I could already feel my blood boiling just at the mention of that name. Saint Theron. Victor told me that was probably who it was; some arrogant young man who discovered he had the power of miracles when he was 18 years old— one of the youngest in history.

And yet I could find no respect for him. Because he was a murderer. He killed my mom, my wonderful mother, all because she did magic. I hated him. I—

I was about to cry. But then I felt a hand gently touch my shoulder, and I looked up at a red face. Something so completely alien to me. And yet, the words Gerritt spoke gave me comfort.

"I’m sorry for your loss. You’re very strong to have managed to come this far."

I froze.

"You must have been through a lot since then. Your mother’s death, and becoming a slave? You fought through it all, and yet you’re still here," he said, lowering his face to meet mine, and smiling. "You are so young, and so strong. So… brave— more so than I’ll ever be."

It did not mean much; they were only words. It was not even life-changing advice— just simple words. They should not have meant anything, for they were merely words.

But still, I found comfort in them.

"Thank you, sir," I said, as a single teardrop ran down my cheek.

"Please, little one, my name is Gerritt," the Orc kindly interjected.

I nodded, and smiled. "And my name is Melas, Gerritt."

He laughed, and I giggled a little bit too. Victor gave us both a sidelong look that totally wasn’t judging us in any way, and he sighed.

"Commander Gerritt, Melas will be with us for the foreseeable future. And being Lady Valeria’s daughter, I’ve found that she has a talent in magic too. But she is still young, so she is undecided on whether she wants to be a Dark Crusader— which is understandable— but she is also a marked slave. As such, I’ve decided we shall offer her our protection until we can find a way to remove the brand upon her face."

"Hrmph, of course! That is only reasonable."

"Ah, and there are two additional things: firstly, if you could transmit my decision back to headquarters, that would be very much appreciated. Secondly, we left a horse, just outside of the cave entrance— you may do with it as you will," the young man added.

"I will do both of that. I’m sure the Infernalis would be pleased to hear about Melas. Although I will also inform them of… the other news you’ve brought me. And the two of us too, have many things to discuss. But— later. Come, let us talk of something less dour. Karna has returned with food and drinks." The large man pointed behind me.

Sure enough, the Goblin from earlier was returning with baskets of bread and fruits. Following behind him were two other Goblins carrying a jar of water and an amphora of wine respectively.

My mouth immediately began to water at the sight of food. The moment Karna came within reaching distance, I started stuffing my mouth.

The Goblin stared at me in disbelief as I devoured everything in the basket. Gerritt guffawed and poured some wine for himself and Victor, while offering me some water; I graciously accepted the cup as he handed it over to me.

"Hungry, are you?" Gerritt chuckled as I took a swig of water. "You look like you haven’t eaten in days."

I shook my head, and gestured at Victor. "He’s been sharing his travel supplies with me. But it’s only a little— we’ve had to ration it," I said.

"Of course. I only brought food for myself on this journey. I wasn’t expecting someone else to join me. Let alone a child that eats as much as you," the young man snorted.

I took a bite out of a loaf of bread as the Orc chortled.

"Well there’s no need to hold back here, Melas. Eat to your heart’s delight."

I brightened as I looked at all the food on the table. I reached for a piece of fruit, and paused.

Wait, did Victor just call me fat?!

Chapter 27: Starved and Stronger

I exited the small bathtub after cleaning myself off for over half an hour. Most of that time had been spent untangling my matted hair, running my fingers through each small knot for five minutes at a time. I wish I had a brush, I thought wistfully.

But that was a longing that did not last; it was simply a recollection of a different place where basic amenities that increased the quality of life were ubiquitous. I had lived as a slave for two months, and lived in the backwater village of Villamcreek for all of my current life. I could very easily make do without dwelling on the absence of such luxuries.

I donned the change of clothes that had been prepared for me: I stepped out of the tent wearing a black cowl hanging behind my neck, and a brown leather tunic stretched down below my waist, slightly obscuring the darker shade of pants that reached near my ankles. A belt held the outfit together, and the look was completed with the arm braces on both my hands.

I didn’t need to wear all that; I could’ve just worn the shirt and pants and been done with it. In fact, I was not even planning on dressing up in all this, and only brought it into the bath because Gerritt insisted I was adequately armored. But when I saw my reflection in the water— when I saw how dreadful my appearance was— I immediately changed my mind. I wanted to look good.

It was such a meaningless thing. A superficial desire that I could— and I did— forgo for more important things. But now that my survival was guaranteed (at least, for the foreseeable future), I could at least enjoy these mundane joys of life— such as fashion.

Of course, there was no makeup here. This was a camp, inside a cave, and deep within a forest. So I had to settle with what I had… which was the typical Goblin wear in this camp. Their clothes fitted me perfectly since I was about the same size as most of them.

I paused and stared at the encampment around me. At all the Goblins milling about and talking to each other. At the way they were dressed.

At least I fit in, right?

I started for the center of the camp; we had arrived here a day ago, and this morning Victor had sent me off to do whatever I wanted for a bit, to only meet him and Gerritt when I was ready. Or in other words: ‘Go away, the adults are talking’.

After all, everyone knew that when there was something important needed to be talked about, you told your kids to go play somewhere else. But I wasn’t a kid, so I knew what adults meant when they said that.

I wasn’t offended by it or anything; I had been a kid for 11 years now, so I was pretty used to being treated like one. However, I would never force myself to pretend to be a kid if it was not necessary, so I was not going to play any childish games. It had been almost an hour, and I was done bathing, so I was going to go back. I walked past some tents, turned a corner, and—

There was a face. No— a person. I was going to bump into them! I raised my arms up and braced myself, but they just sidestepped around me.

Swiftly. Smoothly. I didn’t even realize that they went around me. I blinked and stumbled, but caught myself from falling.

I turned to the person standing next to me. He was a Goblin, of course.

"Sorry about that, uh, Mr... Karna?" I waved my hands apologetically.

He eyed me with a sidelong glance. "...it’s nothing," he simply said.

There was a pause. A moment of silence. I shifted my feet uncomfortably. Awkwaaaard!! What do I say? Do I just—

"Well, um, I’m just going to..." I politely excused myself and backed up.

I turned around and continued my walk to the center of the camp. I took a few steps forward… and we were going in the same direction. Oh my God, I hate it when this happens! This is making it even more weird!

Karna was following right behind me. Apparently we were heading in the same direction— the war tent where Gerritt and Victor were at. We were walking side-by-side, and neither of us said anything. Our destination was nearby, yet it lasted forever; a short walk that was prolonged by the blaring silence between us.

I felt uncomfortable; I tried to avoid glancing at the Goblin, but I found my eyes flicking towards him a couple times. That only served to make me cringe even more, since he had a deadpan expression, facing only forwards. Do I say something? Do I just stay quiet?! Do I— oh thank God we’re here!

I stopped right outside the large tent’s entrance. I looked at Karna, and pointed uncertainly at the door. "Do you want to go in first or—" I began to speak, but was interrupted.

A deep voice resounded from within. "Karna, how did—" Gerritt poked his head out of the flaps, and paused as he saw me. "Melas, you’re back."

"Oh, I—" I started, but the Goblin spoke over me.

"Commander, we’ve returned from our reconnaissance."

The Orc stepped out of the tent. "Hrmph, of course. Where are the others?" He asked.

"We’ve been moving all night, they’re resting now." Karna answered.

"I see." Gessit nodded. His eyes flickered to me for a moment, then back to Karna as the Goblin continued.

"We searched out three towns and two small cities—"

"Apologies, Karna. But could you report back to me later."

"Excuse me, Commander?" The Goblin blinked.

The Orc gestured at me, standing idly by the side. "There’s something important Victor and I have to discuss with Melas. After we’re done, I’ll send for you, so you can just rest with the rest of the scouting party for now."

"But Commander—" Karna paused abruptly. His gaze shifted to me for a moment, and his eyes narrowed. "Yes, Sir," he said simply, then turned around and left.

What’s his problem? I frowned to myself, as the Goblin stalked away. "Sorry, did I interrupt something?" I asked.

"There is not a problem. Come in, Melas, there are things we need to talk about." The Orc ushered me into the tent.

I found myself entering the large meeting room, and curtly nodded a greeting to Victor. The Human was sitting at a table, and smiled when he saw me.

"Ah, Melas. You’re here. At the perfect time as well. We were just about to have someone bring you over," he said.

"Is something the matter?" I raised an eyebrow, as I took a seat.

"You’re not in trouble, or anything," he chuckled, then put on a more serious face. "We just spoke with someone at the Infernalis— you know what that is, right?"

"Yes. It’s the Dark Crusaders headquarters; the same place you were sent from," I replied. I paused to think for a short moment, before continuing. "Also, it moves around a lot, so Inquisitors or the Church can’t find it or attack it easily."

A grunt of satisfaction came from Gerritt standing behind me, and Victor accepted it too.

"Ah, good. I just had to make sure that you remembered what I told you."

"Yes. I’ve heard that Human children are extremely dull, but you’ve only proven me otherwise since I’ve met you," the Orc opined.

"Thanks…?" I couldn’t tell whether that was a compliment or not.

I mean, it obviously was meant to be one; but did that mean other species’ kids were smarter than Humans? I did know that due to their short lifespan, Goblins reached adolescence at around 6 years old, and were considered adults anywhere between 10 and 12. But surely their kids are as dumb as our kids… right?

I shook my head and focused on what was in front of me. "Is this a test? What did the Infernalis say to you guys?" I asked.

Victor was the one to answer. "We were in correspondence with them just earlier. And although they were saddened to hear of your mother’s passing, they expressed relief in hearing that you were safe with us. Your indecision in regards to joining us was wholly understood too… by some… but we’ve got some— ah, good news and bad news, if you will."

The Orc nodded his head in agreement, as I waited expectantly for what the young man had to say. Victor continued.

"The Infernalis offered to send a Dark Acolyte capable of removing the brand upon your face to help restore you your freedom, and even escort you out of the Free Lands. Naturally, they’d only be happy to do so for the daughter of the Fiend— Lady Valeria— which is the good news."

He paused and cleared his throat. He eyed me uneasily, and began to speak again.

"And the bad news is—"

"They can’t send one now," I finished his sentence for him.

I sighed as Victor’s facial expressions confirmed what I had said. He blinked in surprise.

"Ah— yes. Unfortunately, not. But not because of a lack of trying. In fact, one of the more prominent members of the Dark Crusaders themselves said they would come here in person to aid you. Apparently they were acquainted with your mother, and wanted to meet you in person; but they’re busy right now, so the soonest they could possibly arrive is in... three, maybe four, months." He hesitated as he said the last part.

"I see." I felt my face fall. But just a little bit. I expected this even before Victor told me there were both good and bad news.

From the moment last night when they told me that they’d try and get a Dark Acolyte to heal me, I knew no one was coming anytime soon; it was not that I didn’t trust the Dark Crusaders— I did believe (even though I barely knew them) that they tried their hardest. But at the end of the day, they were zealots.

They sowed discord, and saw opportunity in chaos. And that’s exactly what happened in Bys— when the Abominations took one of the most powerful cities in all the Free Lands, and even the continent, causing chaos. There was no better time than to act now for the Dark Crusaders various cells spread throughout the world. And even though neither Victor nor Gerritt mentioned anything about it, I had a strong feeling that that was exactly why the young man was sent here in the first place.

I straightened my back, and kept a straight face as I looked up at the young man. He was apologizing.

"I’m sorry, Melas. I know it’s a long time for a child, however there are a substantial amount of complications that—" he began to explain.

I held up my hands. "It’s fine, Victor. I understand. Truly," I replied honestly. Then I raised an arm to my chest. "But is there really nothing we can do until then? Anything I can do? I’m good at magic— I really am. If you teach me, maybe I can learn whatever spell is needed to heal myself."

The young man pursed his lips, and inhaled slowly. "I… can not teach you anything like that. To physically alter one’s body permanently requires an advanced understanding in ceremonial magic— ritualistic spells that take a lot of preparation to cast. Although I am quite magically gifted— as I have what is considered an intermediate understanding in most fields of magic— not only am I still limited by my area of expertise, but I am also still a student of magic, myself."

"...and only my mom’s friend knows this type of magic?"

"Well, no. There are others who may be less qualified than her, and still as capable as her at removing the slave mark. But—" he said and raised a finger. "She’s the one who can arrive here the soonest."

"We’re sorry, Melas. We really are." Gerritt added in, speaking up for the first time in awhile. "We’ll try to procure a high grade healing potion. In fact, I sent some scouts last night asked by Karna— the Goblin from earlier— to investigate the surrounding towns for any alchemists."

The young man shook his head. "That is our only possible course of action as of this moment, however it is unlikely to be fruitful as such an item can only be found in big cities. But on the off chance that we obtain a healing potion capable of removing that brand upon your face, we will continue our search." Victor said.

I stared at the two of them, as they tried to comfort me; I raised a hand and touched my face. I felt it. The mark in my face. And I remembered.

Helplessness. It was such a terrible thing; I felt it many times before, and I hated every moment of it every single time. I took a deep breath.

"Thank you. Both of you. For trying to help me, I’m really grateful." I said slowly. The two of them— Orc and Human— paused and stared at me, as I shrugged. "A few months isn’t too long of a wait. Not when it’s for something that could change the rest of my life. So I’ll just wait."

I stood up from my chair, and gently placed both hands on the desk. I met both of their eyes, serious as could be, and spoke. "But—"

"Ah, of course. There is always a ‘but’." Victor grinned.

I rolled my eyes. "But," I said, mock-glaring the young man, "four months is a lot of time to learn something. A lot of time to learn magic."

Gerritt’s eyes widened, while Victor narrowed his eyes out of curiosity. "What do you mean by that?" The young man— the Dark Acolyte who was supposedly a genius— asked.

"I want to learn magic still, even if it's not one that can heal me. I want to learn how to defend myself, and fight like my mother. I know some spells, but I was never taught. I need to get better, I really do. So please, Victor, teach me how to do what you did back when you saved me. Teach me magic."

A light shone in my eyes and a fire smoldered within me; the words hung in the air exuding a sense of finality.

Gerritt blinked, then laughed at the audacity of my request, while the blue haired Human just folded his arms. "You’re asking me to train you. Even though you’re not one of us?"

"Yes," I said.

"And to train you so that you can be like your mother, the Fiend, one of the founders of the Shadow’s Evangelium, and the menace that haunted the Holy Xan Empire for so long?" Victor cocked an eyebrow.

"Yes," I said the word again, this time emphasizing it.

I held the Dark Crusader’s gaze for a moment. Then he grinned.

"Well, I’ve never had a student before— considering that I am very much a student myself— so I can not guarantee the results. However, I do believe that I am more than competent enough to tutor you— I am a genius after all. The question is: are you up for the task?"

Victor spread his arms wide, issuing me a challenge.

"Yes," I repeated myself, for the final time.

"Then prove it to me," he said, pointing a finger at me. "Show me you have what it takes— that you have the drive to be a student worth my time. That you are strong."

"What must I do?"

He strutted over to a bag, and pulled out a book. It was a grimoire— a tome of magic. One that beheld in it many spells I knew nothing about. He flipped through its pages, and ripped one out before handing it to me.

"Then learn this spell," the Dark Acolyte said. "If you can master this single spell, then I will teach you. But if you don’t? Well, children are often fickle, are they not?"

I stared at the crinkled piece of paper, before my eyes darted up to meet the man’s green eyes. Slowly, I lifted my hand up and reached for it. Victor allowed me to take it.

I was tired of being weak. I was tired of being dragged around with my face in the mud, unable to do anything for myself. I had enough of it. I was granted a single request by that fake god when I came into this world and I was going to take advantage of it.

I was hungry. I had been starved. But now, I saw food dangling ahead of me. So I gave the only response I could think of at that moment.

"Give me a week; I’ll show you how strong I am."

Chapter 28: Test

I felt my brows knit on my forehead as I squinted. I was staring at the piece of paper Victor had given me; the spell inscribed onto it was called Magic Missile. It was a direct advancement of the Magic Bolt spell I had learned to cast in Bys.

It was not supposed to be hard— or at least, I did not think it was supposed to be hard. Victor gave me this as a challenge, but I doubted he would give me something impossible to learn. Considering that I requested that jerk god for me to be the best spellcaster in the world, it should have been like going on a cakewalk!

And yet, two days had passed but I saw no progress. The paper had nothing but theory— there were no instructions on how to cast the spell. It did go into detail on how the original Magic Bolt spell was modified with a few simple tweaks to become this vastly stronger version, however that was it: nothing else was on it.

I stood up, drawing my lips into a thin line. It was frustrating! I had read the same thing over and over again nonstop, and while I understood the words itself that was written on the paper, its true meaning evaded me completely. Time for a short break.

I was extremely stiff from being glued to a chair for the last six hours, and needed to stretch for a bit. I put my hands together with my palms facing out, and reached up in the air. Then I clasped my hands behind my back and pulled my shoulders back. I spun my neck around for a bit, and began to walk around the room to stretch my legs

I did not want my muscles to atrophy— since I was a kid at a crucial point in her growth— so I decided to exercise for a bit. I lifted one leg high up, until it was perpendicular to the ground, then back down as I brought my other leg up. It felt a bit embarrassing to do a power walk, but at least I was alone—

Someone entered the tent. I froze in place as my face burned red. Oh my God, I hate it when this happens.

I slowly lowered my leg, and turned to face the Goblin, pretending that I wasn’t doing anything embarrassing at all. Karna just stared back at me as I waved a hand.

"Uh, hi," I greeted him. I eyed the tray of food on the Goblins hands, and pointed at it. "Are those for me?"

Karna said nothing; he slowly walked over to the table, and placed a plate down. He began to turn to walk away. Rude! Why is he ignoring me?

"Thank you!" I called out after him.

He did not even pause as he left the tent. Then I was alone again. I sighed, thinking, What a jerk.

There was no reason for him to treat me so coldly, yet that had been pretty much all my interactions with him; I felt my stomach growling as the feeling of annoyance was replaced by hunger.

First, I eat, I thought as my mouth watered over. Then maybe I’ll ask Victor for some help.

I stood right outside the large white tent, waiting. There was no one stopping me from going in; there was no guard telling me to come back later, yet I still waited outside of it.

There was a meeting going inside the room; probably something important Dark Crusader-y stuff. Maybe they were discussing orders from above, or chatting about their favorite types of food. I had no idea; it was none of my business.

And because of that, I was not going to barge right in in the middle of a possibly important meeting, demanding that my problems be immediately discussed. That would have been rude. Who even does that? Karens, that’s who!

I tried not to eavesdrop; however I could not help but pick up a few things mentioned from time to time. I heard things like ‘Abominations’, ‘strategic location’, and ‘the Church’, mentioned a few times; I could have extrapolated some ideas from that, although I did not.

Eventually, the conversation died down, and I saw movement coming from the inside of the command tent. I looked up, and saw Gerritt emerge from behind the flaps of the tent; the Orc paused as he saw me.

"Melas, did you need something?" he asked.

"Hi Gerritt, I just wanted to speak with Victor," I said and gestured at the tent. "Is now a bad time?"

"Not at all. We were simply discussing… our future course of action. There’s no need to worry, it won’t affect you too much. Please, come on in."

"Won’t affect me too much?" I parroted his words dumbly, as the large man led me in. "What’s going on?"

"Hrmph, it isn’t anything serious. We’re planning on leaving this location. Not now, of course. Perhaps in two weeks?"

"Does this have to do with the Abominations— whatever you call them— and what happened in Bys?" I asked, now curious.

"To a certain extent, yes." The Orc nodded his head slowly. He stroked his massive chin as he continued. "What happened in Bys was not limited to that one city. The Abominations themselves have not done much— some have been spotted even near us, but they have mainly remained dormant since they took the city. And yet, it has had a huge cascading effect that has rippled throughout the Free Lands.

"Besha especially is suffering due to being ground zero of the calamity, which has instigated a massive slave revolt there. Last I heard, half a million slaves have banded together and are attacking cities to free more of their own; although how many of them are actually fighters is uncertain. It has caused a mass exodus from the region, destabilizing almost all of the Free Cities."

"And that’s the perfect opportunity, right?" I guessed. "For you guys. Since... you know…" I trailed off.

"Indeed," Gerritt said. The Dark Commander turned to the young man standing over a table and looking over scattered documents. "Victor, Melas wishes to speak with you."

The blue haired man’s gaze flickered up for a moment, before going back down to what he was looking at. He spoke succinctly. "Melas, I don’t believe it has been a week yet. Did something come up?"

"Oh— uh, no…? Well… maybe." I scratched my head. The young man raised an eyebrow, and I elaborated. "Actually, I was hoping to discuss just that. Um, that spell you want me to learn— how exactly do I… cast it?"

Victor paused what he was doing, and looked up at me. Then he sighed.

"Typical," he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

"Um, pardon?"

He stood up, pushing his chair back.

"Melas, when I gave you this test, did you think I would offer you any help?"

"I…" I hesitated. "No?"

"Exactly," he said. "Tests are meant to examine your abilities— to determine whether you have the talent, or the determination, to actually pass it. If you give up so easily, why should I take you on as my student?"

I shuffled my feet uncomfortably. "I… I didn’t mean I was giving up. I just thought I could get some… advice."

"Then you thought wrong." He folded his arms. His gaze bore into me for a moment, then his face softened. "Melas, I don’t mean to be hard on you. However, this is for your own good.

"And I never gave you a deadline anyway, you were the one who wanted to prove it to me in a week. I will not judge you if you fail to accomplish it by then. I really want to teach you, Melas, but if you fail to learn it and give up, it would be your own fault that that doesn’t happen, is that understood?"

I looked up and met the young man’s stare. I felt like a kid being reprimanded by an adult— except, I was not a kid. I slowly nodded.

"Yes," I said. "...and sorry," I added.

"Very good. Now run along. Relax a bit, don’t push yourself too hard." Victor turned back to what he was doing as I meekly left the tent.

I paused just outside when a voice called out to me.

"Melas," Gerritt said, stepping up right behind me. "I’m sorry about what happened, but I’m sure Victor meant well. Are you alright?"

"I’m fine," I sighed, glancing heavenward. "I just didn’t expect it to be so difficult."

The Orc rested his large hand on my shoulder. "You don’t have to push yourself so hard. Magic is difficult. It’s something most spellcasters can spend their whole life practicing, yet could never hope to reach the pinnacle of magicks that the Demon Lord was said to have reached."

"Well, I’d like to think I would have excelled in it a little bit," I said honestly.

"Hrmph, I’m sure you would, considering your lineage. However Magic Missile is not a spell beginners can learn so easily. The fact that you’re able to cast a Magic Bolt at your age is truly impressive— for a Human child, of course."

I was almost cheered up by that until Gerritt decided to qualify his statement; I felt my shoulders raise as my body shrunk down into a slump. "What can I do, Gerritt?" I asked.

"I’m not sure how to help you since I am not an expert in that field of magic," he said and shook his head. "However, if you want some general advice, I’d recommend you come with me. I’m about to hold some training drills for the Goblins, and I’m sure you could pick up a thing or two while watching them spar. If not, relaxing is always an option."

"That doesn’t sound like too bad of an idea," I said, nodding.

"Hrmph, follow me, Melas."

Gerritt started and I quickly jogged after him; I had to keep up the pace as the Orc’s long strides made him cover a longer distance than me a lot more quickly. We made a few turns before we finally reached our destination.

"We’re here," he stated.

I looked up at the training area of the encampment, and saw a lot of Goblins. I assumed at least half of the Goblins in the camp were gathered here at the moment; some of them were just waiting, but others were already sparring or practicing their aim with a bow or magic on some wooden targets at a distance.

I recognized Karna in the midst of the crowd. He was at the shooting range helping other Goblins with their archery…?

No— not just archery. Magic too.

The Goblin archers were not just firing their bows and arrows at the wooden dummy, they were infusing their shot with some kind of magic. Not all of them used the same spells, and it wasn’t cast with every shot, but there was a certain level of uniformity to it.

I saw a Goblin archer nock his bow, and a magic circle quickly passed through the arrow. There were no visible changes— none that I could see, at least. But when he loosed his bowstring, the arrow flew straighter than it should have. Almost like a bullet. I watched as it easily covered over a hundred feet.

There was a crack.

The arrow pierced through the wooden target, jamming the arrowhead all the way through and more.

I found myself blinking in disbelief. A bow and arrow should not have done that! It was not anywhere as effective as a gun from my world, but perhaps it was just as effective— if not more— than one from this world. Well, the weaker ones, at least.

And it was certainly far more impressive than what a measly Magic Bolt could do. Those would leave a gash at most. They were not powerful, unless you hit a major artery or another vital spot on someone’s body; but that pretty much applied to anything, including the dullest butter knife.

Most of the Goblins were casting this spell, generating the same result I had seen— although not all of them were as accurate. However, I saw another Goblin pull back an arrow and choose to use a different spell from the others.

A yellow light slowly formed in front of the bow, barely bigger than the arrow head. It was a small magic circle, about three inches in diameter, yet it weaved a significantly more complex design in the smaller area than made up the piercing spell. The Goblin fired his arrow—

And the magic circle immediately dissipated. The light abruptly vanished in a fizzle, and the arrow flew the distance a regular arrow would fly. Nothing happened.

I stared confused for a second, before turning to Gerritt. "What happened?"

"The spell failed," he replied, angling his massive maw downwards in a frown. "He tried casting magic beyond his capabilities, and it simply didn’t coalesce. I’ll have to…" he trailed off.

The Orc took a deep breath, as I inclined my head. He opened his mouth, and bellowed at the crowd of Goblins causing me to jump in surprise.

"Alright, that’s enough everyone. Gather up!"

Gerritt marched up to the center of the crowd; Goblins began to abandon whatever they were doing, and quickly assembled in front of the Orc. He spoke.

"I’m glad to see you’re all taking your training seriously, but I have an announcement to make."

A few murmurs ran through the crowd, but quickly died down. Gerritt continued.

"In a few weeks, we’ll finally be leaving this damned cave as decided by myself and the Dark Acolyte, Victor. We’ll be heading east, towards the Chalstics Confederacy, and occupying a fort there. So there will be no more small raids, and no more stealing. You lot will finally be putting your training to use!"

This time, there were more than a few murmurs that ran through the crowd; voices came from every direction, and they sounded almost… excited?

"Silence," Gerritt shouted over them.

The chatter immediately halted, and the Orc cleared his throat. "Hrmph, I will be briefing you more on this later. For today, our regular drills will continue. However, there is something else I need to address before that happens." The Dark Commander raised a finger and pointed it at a figure in the crowd. "You," he said flatly.

The Goblin from earlier— the one whose spell failed— froze; he pointed at himself nervously, and Gerritt nodded. "Do not worry, you are not in trouble. I saw your attempt at casting the Blast Enchantment. It was a good effort; truly an admirable attempt."

The Goblin sighed in relief, as the Orc praised him. "Your eagerness to learn is commendable. Trying a spell beyond your grasp and failing is the first step to learning it. But I believe a demonstration is in order." He turned his gaze into the crowd. "Karna."

"Yes Commander." The familiar Goblin stood at attention.

"Show them how it’s done."

"Yes, Commander," Karna said. He spun around, and briskly walked over to the archery range.

He drew his bow and arrow, aiming it at a target all the way at the end. A yellow magic circle— just like the one I saw from earlier— appeared, as he slowly nocked his arrow. The spell finished forming in the air, and Karna loosed the arrow*.*

The magic circle began to bend as the arrowhead came into contact with it. What came next happened fast: the yellow lines stretched as the arrow went through the magic circle, almost wrapping itself around the projectile. The now glowing arrow flew quicker than it should have, almost like it was a crossbow bolt, zipping straight at its target, and—

It exploded.

I covered my eyes as a bright light flashed before me; a loud bang resounded in my eardrums, and echoed throughout the cave. I slowly lowered my hands as the light went away. And I gazed in awe. More than half the target was gone, blown away from the explosion by the enchanted arrow.

It was not some thin board of wood, like most archery targets were. It was an actual block of wood; like a tree log repurposed to be some sort of wooden dummy.

And it was destroyed.

There was a short applause that followed the thin plume of smoke that rose in the air, as the Goblin lowered his bow

"Amazing as always, Karna," Gerritt complimented him.

I was about to clap too, when Karna caught a glimpse of me. He sneered at me for the briefest of a second, then strode back to the crowd. I frowned.

What’s his problem?

I wanted to press the issue, but Gerritt spoke up too quickly. "Alright, our war games for today will be splitting you into—"

He probably hates me, I decided. I felt a vein in my forehead twitch as the realization struck me. So that’s why he always gives me the cold shoulder. But the question is: why?

I disliked being hated for no reason; I also disliked being treated and reprimanded like a kid for a nonissue. I couldn’t relax and watch the training if this feeling of annoyance was eating me up from the inside.

So I strolled up to the shooting range and narrowed my eyes. Gerritt wanted the other Goblins to watch Karna as he performed his demonstration of the spell, yet all I saw was a spell circle taking shape and enveloping the arrow. Were you supposed to pay attention to the symbols and shapes within the circle?

I highly doubted that; apart from looking kind-of-similar— but not really— to the writings of the Venerable Language, the symbols in a magic circle held no written meaning. There was also no mention of memorizing the shapes within them in the piece of paper Victor had given me.

The only thing that paper had mentioned was the modification of the Magic Bolt spells. But what did that even mean? I had no idea.

I sighed, then brought my hand out. Might as well practice old spells if I can’t learn new ones, I thought, choosing to maybe vent my frustrations for a little bit by destroying some practice dummies. I felt at the world around me, and the immersive sensation of the vast ocean of mana came over me. However, unlike the last few times I cast Magic Bolt, there were… ripples?

I could sense mana being pulled from the air and the earth, being turned into something else. People were casting magic— the Goblins were casting magic, and I could feel it. I looked over at where the Goblins were training, and saw some spells being thrown around— they were nothing truly dangerous. Nothing that would do more harm than incapacitate one another.

...how do I know that?

It was almost intuitive; it came to me completely naturally. Then I realized it was just like all the other times I had cast spells by instinct.

"Modify it," I said, resolving myself. "That’s all I have to do."

I pointed a finger at the nearest target, and sent a Magic Bolt at it. Then two. And then five.

The blue bolts of energy cut into the wooden dummy, knocking small chunks of it off with each strike. I didn’t miss a single shot; I had enough practice shooting actual moving targets that hitting this stationary one was easy.

I aimed for the next target, slightly further back. Once again, I hit all of my shots. Only when I went for the one after that, did I begin to miss; and even then, it was only around one in every ten or so attempts that missed.

Yet, despite all that— the deluge of Magic Bolts, the accuracy, and the fact that only a single spell failed so far— I was only getting more annoyed. My attacks were barely pattering the wooden targets! It was nothing like Karna’s spell which blew apart half of it!

A Magic Missile, from what I read, was supposed to be able to at least do as much damage as the ‘Blast Enchantment’ Karna used on his arrow. Yet, ten Magic Bolts were incomparable to it. I had to do something to make it stronger; there was a fundamental difference between the power of the spell Karna cast and these measly balls of energy.

And I was going to figure out what it was.

***

Karna ducked under a sword swing. The wooden sword whooshed just above his head. He grabbed the arm as it went past, and he twisted. In one swift motion, he had the other Goblin in an armlock, and held a wooden dagger behind his head.

Karna let go, and the Goblin staggered to the side. He got back up, picking up his bow and arrow, as he surveyed the battlefield. Good, he thought. It had only been an hour, but his team was already winning.

It was a simple siege exercise. There was one defending team and one attacking team. If you got eliminated, you could come back in after ten minutes. These were the basic rules of the war game.

Karna was on the defending team. Being an archer, he could just hide behind cover and shoot the occasional arrow like others sometimes did. But he did not like doing that. He felt that it was lazy. And yet, that was what he was doing at the moment.

Karna felt… content. Or maybe satisfied was a better word. He did not like the little Human girl that was named Melas. Well, he did not like Humans in general, but he especially did not like her.

Not only was she not a Dark Crusader, but he had to run errands for her. Him! One of the most talented Goblins in magic his age! Sure, he was not like Jasmin the Voodoo. But maybe one day, he could be. He was 13 years old, still a young adult with plenty of time to learn.

He had to go on scouting missions for Melas. Steal potions for her. He did not like doing anything for her. She was useless. The strong did not serve the weak unless the strong wanted to— that was a basic principle of life.

Karna did not understand why she mattered so much. The Commander told him and the others that she was the daughter of the Fiend, which made her important. But at the same time, the Commander told them that the Fiend was dead. So why was this girl important? It was not like protecting her would bring the Fiend back.

It made no sense to him. Maybe she could be powerful? But she was barely even a student of magic. She had first learned it a few months ago from what he was told.

So Karna showcased his prowess. His genius. Very little 13 year olds in any species could have done what he did with magic. That was a spell that took a lot of time and specialization to learn. It might have seemed like a demonstration for the others, but it was actually for the girl.

As a way to say: look, this is how strong I am, you are nothing to me.

And that was why Karna did not feel the need to prove himself in the war game. He was feeling pleased with himself, and thus a bit lazy. He drew his bowstring back, and loosed an arrow at an unsuspecting attacker. It struck the Goblin in the head, as Karna grinned to himself, remembering what he last saw of her 30 mins ago.

And all that Melas can do is a simple Magic Bolt—

Karna paused as he felt the mana in the air suddenly shift. It was being gathered by someone!

He spun around to see the source of the magic. And it was not just him. A dozen other Goblins that were proficient in magic stopped mid-battle to face the same direction. Gerritt, too, was looking around in confusion.

It was coming from the archery range. But that was impossible, the only person there was Melas. And this amount of mana was far more than was necessary for a Magic Bolt. Karna squinted, trying to see where it was coming from. Then he blinked.

He saw… yellow light. Coming from where the black haired girl was. And more and more Goblins were turning to see what was going on.

"H-how?" Karna uttered the words. She couldn’t have possibly learned the Blast Enchantment! he thought.

And he was right, Melas did not learn that spell. He stared in shock as he looked at the spell forming in the air. The glowing orb of energy coalescing onto the palm of her hand. And finally, he realized, it was not a Magic Enchanter’s spell, but that of a Thaumaturge— those that dealt with pure magical energy.

Magic Missile.

He watched, mouth agape, as the spell blasted straight at the nearest target. The magical energy came into contact with the wood, and immediately exploded.

The sound was muffled, as if it happened underwater. The flash of light was brief, almost instantaneous. There were no wisps of smoke rising up to the air like from Karna’s enchanted arrow. It seemed like no explosion happened at all.

Yet Karna’s eyes told no lie. An explosion did happen, even if it was a magical one. He looked at the remains of the wooden target. Almost half of it was completely obliterated!

It was…

The Goblin had no words. No one did. They watched in shock and awe at the damage caused by the spell.

There was nothing to say.

It was—

"Amazing!" Gerritt exclaimed, his voice echoing in the cave chamber. "As expected from Valeria’s daughter!"

Well, sometimes, some people always had something to say.

Melas grinned weakly as she picked herself back up. Her own shockwave nearly knocked her down. She turned to the Orc.

"Next time, remind me to aim for something further back," she said, panting. "Blowing up the nearest one was not a good idea. I could have killed myself!"

Chapter 29: Annoyed Learning

Magic. It was not something that existed back in my world; at least, not in any material form. There was no basis of magic in reality: it existed solely in fiction, works of art, and ideas.

The very possibility of spells being thrown about was considered ludicrous by any rational individual. No sane person believed that they could conjure matter out of nothing; to do so would require an absurd amount of energy, which was unfeasible without some sort of incredibly complex machine. Thus, magic was simply the imagination to me, and I became disillusioned.

My world was disenchanted, so I was too. Perhaps in another world, magic could exist.

Just imagine: a fantastical realm where people soared through the skies by their ownself, and not through some machinations they created; a wondrous reality without any hardship, where you could always solve all your problems; or just a regular world, but with… magic.

It was a beautiful dream. A place most children and adults would want to live in. To be able to just create food with the wave of a wand when you were hungry, or to just snap and teleport to wherever you were going if you were late.

A world with magic. A land of dreams. And a world I lived in.

Yes, I am in a fantasy.

After I died, I found myself in another world. One where magic existed. One without any problems. One where all my dreams could come true—

Why do I have to read all this?! I slammed my head down. The book clattered on the table and nearly fell to the floor. I rubbed my forehead, as I groaned. Ouch. Should not have done that.

I just needed to give myself a reality check; I had to make sure I was not making all this up. A pinch to the arm would have sufficed, but it does not convey the same theatrics a forehead slam did! And it was definitely a warranted one!

Instead of being this marvelous thing that was completely incomprehensible—- true wonder that was enchanting and extraordinary— they…. they turned magic into a science!

Just— why? Magic is supposed to be magic! Not studying and books!

It was just so much reading. I mean— sure, I did plan to go to law school in my previous life, and that required a lot of reading. There was a lot of scrutiny and analysis of benign text that came with being a lawyer, after all. But this was different! I was reading about magic!

And it was so terribly boring.

I slumped over in my chair, and looked around the room; I was alone. After I proved myself to Victor some days or a week ago by passing the test— much to his surprise— he handed me a bunch of books to read when I asked him to tutor me. Apparently I had to learn the theory behind magic so my fundamentals would be better. Which is nonsense! I literally can’t even right now— magic is not supposed to be a science, but… a feeling!

Or at least, that was what I thought. That was not the case in this world; Victor told me there were various different aspects to magic— differing fields of spellcraft.

Victor himself was more of a generalist, though that was because he was still a fledgling Dark Acolyte. He was only a Disciple. It was only the first step into the hierarchy of the Dark Crusaders leadership, but becoming one at his age meant he was talented. He did have a partiality towards Pyromancy— fire magic— since it held quite the destructive potential, despite being a generalist.

Gerritt on the other hand practiced Necromancy, using the mana inside of corpses to reanimate them as puppets for fighting; that meant he could raise Zombies and Ghouls to fight for him.

"What about ghosts?"

I remembered asking the Orc the question last week..

"Like phantoms, wraiths, and other spectral horrors?"

"Hrmph, I don’t think that is possible," he said. "All souls return to the Goddess. I can not command them with magic just like how I can not command you or any other living being. Only the Goddess can do that."

"Huh." I raised an eyebrow. "Well at least you’ve still got Zombies, right? Those guys can easily overrun any city!"

"What do you mean, Melas? Zombies are ineffective. Barely more than fodder."

"But they can spread quickly... right?" I was met with a blank face; Gerritt just cocked his head in confusion. I tried to elaborate. "You know, Zombies can infect other people and turn them into more Zombies— like if they bite you… that’s how it works, isn’t it?"

"I’m afraid not. Zombies are merely the remains of newly dead bodies. Empty husks that are more durable than old skeletons. If a Zombie bites someone, they bleed— and maybe get sick from some disease the dead body carried— but nothing more. Perhaps if a Zombie kills a man, I could then raise his body too for battle; but if I raised too many Zombies, it'll eventually become too exhausting for me to upkeep."

"Oh, I see."

"Yes. Perhaps I should be glad Zombies don’t do that. It’ll drain me quickly if that was the case. Of course, if I were a truly powerful necromancer, I’d be able to raise an army quickly that way. But alas, I am not one, and neither do Zombies do that. But it is a fascinating idea you proposed. Where did you hear about such a concept?"

"Uhhhhh… I don’t know," I laughed nervously, "probably an old-wives’ tale or something from back in my village. You know how villagers like to gossip, am I right?"

Anyways, Gerritt was telling the truth when he said he was not a powerful Necromancer. He explained to me how he was not even a Dark Acolyte like Victor was.

To be given the title of Dark Acolyte meant you were part of the Infernalis; it carried with it a status that placed you above even the leaders of the individual cells of the Dark Crusaders spread throughout the continent— that was why Victor could order Gerritt around despite the latter being a Commander. And to become a Dark Acolyte required meeting certain criteria.

"What is that criteria?" I asked Victor a day ago. "Why are you a Dark Acolyte but Gerritt is not?"

The blue haired man flicked his hair back dramatically, and grinned. "Talent," he said. "Gerritt may be more experienced than me in magic, but that’s because he has decades of experience with spellcasting. But he does not have talent. I do, and that’s why I was given the title."

And it was indeed quite a prestigious title.

During the time of the Demon Lord— even before the Holy Xan Empire existed— anyone who could cast magic was called a dark acolyte. It was not so much a title, but more of a label; a word with even worse implications than being a heretic.

It was an appropriate term, considering the darkness that came over Hell— the lands the Demons came from— caused by the blackness of the soil and the earth from casting too much magic over thousands of years. And more than that— beyond the superficial origins of the title— they were called dark acolytes to paint them as enemies of the Goddess. Because what was more diametrically opposed to the Goddess of Light than a follower of darkness?

So anyone who did magic were called dark acolytes by the Church. But back then, they were mostly Demons. And Demons, with both their long life spans— the longest of any sapient species in this world, even before their discovery of magic— were masters of spellcasting.

By the time of the Final Holy War, there were very few Demons left. Yet, a single Demon could change the course of a battle entirely— even with the Holy Xan Empire’s newly discovered mana weapons.

The Demon Lord himself was so powerful, it was said he once crushed five armies sent against him in a single day. Even when the Great Hero Xander confronted him, he could not defeat the Demon Lord alone.

It took the combined efforts of all the greatest fighters in the world to defeat the Demon Lord, such as: the First Saintess, Xanthe; the Elf Princess, Qabul; and the Demon Lord’s very own daughter, Elara. Oh and they were all in his imperial harem too, but that’s only tangentially related to this.

Point was: Demons were incredibly powerful, and most of the dark acolytes back then were Demons. So there came a connotation with the title for anyone who did magic— that those who were dark acolytes were truly powerful. And it was not like the Demons ever rejected their association with darkness; in fact, they embraced it as their own, and argued that the Goddess was not a deity of light, but a deity of darkness. Which… kind of started the whole Holy Wars thing.

So the Dark Crusaders appropriated the term from history into their own organization, accepting anyone gifted in magic into the Infernalis as a Dark Acolyte. And Victor was truly a genius. He might have been a new Dark Acolyte, but that did not discount his talent.

Meanwhile, most people— like the Goblins in our camp— were average in regards to using magic; they could cast basic spells and some may even use stronger ones like Victor’s Fireball. But that was a rarity, and would take an average spellcaster months to even years to learn similar spells of that level.

This was especially relevant when considering the short lifespan of Goblins: they had far less time than Humans, let alone the likes of Elves or Demons, to learn magic, thus making it almost counterintuitive for them to learn spells, since they could always use a mana tool to achieve the same results.Like that simple Magic Bolt spell I knew; it was probably as effective as— or possibly even less effective than— a gun.

And that spell— that basic spell which I learned in the moment back in Bys— the one I could probably cast 70% of the time before I even had any practice— it took the average spellcaster a month to learn.

It was like learning how to work mana crystals in that it took a lot of time and effort into getting used to doing it. Victor himself— with all the studying he did beforehand he started spellcasting— took a week to learn how to cast the bolt of magic. And it took another week of practicing before he could cast it consistently!

Learning magic was supposed to be hard. Take Magic Missile, the upgraded version of Magic Bolt which exploded upon contact, for example: it was not even something I had mastered yet. My first attempt at casting it was a success, but subsequent tries did not always go well. Apparently I was lucky that the failures did not blow up in my face— like what was a hazard for those learning how to use mana crystals for the first time.

Overall, I would say my success rate was slightly above 50%. But after blowing up a handful of wooden targets, some stalactites fell from the ceiling above, so Gerritt made me stop. He did not want me to cause the cave to collapse in on us, which I wholeheartedly agreed on.

Still, it was suffice to say, I was… pretty gifted in magic.

I didn’t even need the aid of a magical staff like Victor had to accelerate the time it took me to cast spells; Victor timed how long it took me to create a Magic Bolt, and he came to the conclusion I was twice as fast as any beginner capable of casting the same spell.

Magic did not necessitate some sort of medium to pass through of course; instead, it was like a crutch. It was something most people new to magic would use before they finally begin to specialize to simply accustom themselves to doing magic.

There were also things people did when casting a spell. Examples included striking a pose or saying some sort of incantation; it was supposed to help you focus and make it easier for the spell to form. The book I was currently reading had only some spells shown, with diagrams and descriptions to guide the learner.

Like if you took Fireball for example— Victor did it simply by pointing his staff in a direction. But someone who was not as gifted as him would follow the instructions in the book.

First, you were supposed to take a deep breath and aim your wand or staff at your target. Then you would start drawing a circle in the air, while imagining a ball of flame in your mind. And lastly, it was not necessary— but recommended— that you say the words ‘Fireball’ once the magic circle finished forming in the air.

It almost sounded stupid— I got embarrassed just imagining myself doing it. But there was a science to this: all those steps helped someone grasp at the mana in the world around them and turn it into a really powerful spell. Because at the end of the day, magic was simply a feeling.

I was only glad that they did not begin categorizing spells into something like tiers. That would take away all the magic behind… magic. At least, to me, I thought.

There were some spellcasters who vehemently pushed for the idea: they suggested a kind of tiering system where the simplest spell would be called a Tier 0 spell, and the most advanced spells would be called a Tier 10 spell. But it wasn’t frequently used— it was far from the prevalent form of magic theory currently in place.

But in this system, there were classifications to magic which ranked Tier 0 spells as like the light spell Victor used when we entered the cave, while a Tier 1 spell would be more like Magic Bolt, and Magic Missile would be a low Tier 3 spell.

I thought that the fact that I was already able to cast such high level spells would be a good thing, yet that was apparently a problem. At least, according to what Victor told me on the first day he started tutoring me.

"You mean to tell me you can not do a Light, or even a Sound spell?" Victor stared at me, flabbergasted, when I told him about the spells I knew.

"Um, yes?" I said as I scratched my head.

"And the first spell you learned was in Telekinesis— one of the most complex fields of magic that even I struggle to learn? Albeit Levitation is one of the most basic of Telekinetic spells, but the variation you described sounds a bit more complex. An Invisible Hand variant?" He shook his head. "It doesn’t matter— it is still advanced for a basic spell. But it was your first ever spell?!"

I blinked "...yes?"

The young man’s eyes bore into me, and I shuffled my feet uncomfortably.

"Look, I don’t know what else to tell you. Maybe I’m just gifted, that’s all."

Victor snorted. "Gifted would be the understatement of the century. Even genius fails to describe the level of talent you’ve displayed at your age. Perhaps— a prodigy? Ah, or something more. However, you can not rely on your brilliance alone— as abundant as it may be— when it comes to magic."

"Let me guess: I can't just jump straight to fancy big magical spells, and have to start with smaller ones first."

"In a sense, yes." The dark acolyte ignored my loud sigh at his confirmation, and continued. "Without the proper training, or the proper understanding of what magic can and can not do, you will always plateau. No matter how gifted— as you describe it— you are, there will come a point where unrefined talent meets its end. That's where the fundamentals— the theory behind magic and the basic spells— come in."

"I see." I nodded my head slowly, knowing what came next.

"That is why"— Victor reached into his bag, and slammed a pile of books onto the table— "you will be reading up on all of this."

My eyes bulged at the mountain of books placed on top of one another. They were thick, but not a thousand pages thick like some of the stuff I would have ended up reading when I went to university; still, I wanted to groan.

Maybe it’ll take… three weeks if I really try to finish it all? the hopeful thought crossed my mind, before Victor spoke up again.

"Ah, these are just my personal travel stash of books for the history and basics of magic. I’m sure Commander Gerritt has some more he could lend you. and I’ll ensure he asks around if anyone else has anything that would be useful for you in your studies. Once you’re finished with all of that, I’ll have you practice a select few of those spells for a test I’ll set up.

"You’ll have to retake the test until you pass it before I’ll let you access the more advanced books and test you on those too. There’s no rush— read at your own leisure. We’ll only be meeting once every other day for me to track your progress. Just ensure you don’t go straight into casting powerful spells, because the failure to cast said spells could sometimes turn deadly."

And with that warning, that was how I found myself in this situation— sitting in a tent and reading.

Just… reading.

I closed the book, pushed my chair back, and stood up. I was finished reading that book; it was three hundred pages, but I was finally done. It was the third and final book in a series of basic introductory grimoires that contained more history than actual spellcasting in it.

I could’ve been done with it sooner if I was not meticulously studying by taking notes and the like. Plus, it was not in English, my true native language; I definitely would have completed it sooner if it was a book back in my former world. Or I’d have just listened to the audiobook. That way I could multitask and be more productive!

But that was not possible here; or if it was, I did not have access to such resources. So after doing a few basic stretches— while ensuring that no one would barge in on me this time— I reached for and opened the next book, The Thauma.

It was regarding one of the easiest school of magic to get into, yet one of the hardest to master: Thaumaturgy. It manipulated pure magical energy— which was magic in its simplest form; this was what made it so easy to pick up, and also what made it so complex later on.

The Thauma was written by the Demon Lord himself, back when he was trying to spread the concept of magic to other species’. It was dense, but relatively simple to understand as a result. In fact, the paper with directions on how to learn Magic Missile that Victor gave me as a test was from a page in this book.

I knew three spells in the field of Thaumaturgy at the moment. The first two I knew were, of course, Magic Bolt and Magic Missile, while the third was something I recently learned about despite casting it weeks ago— Dispel Magic.

Dispel Magic was considered a rather difficult spell to learn— not because it was complicated— but because it broke down the bonds of the mana particles in other spells to disperse it. To learn the spell required another person to cast magic for you to try and dispel, which made it quite difficult to learn… in the past.

It was far easier to learn now than back when this book was written. Victor wrote a note remarking how with the invention of mana tools, it was far easier to practice this spell on mundane items like a mana lamp or another simple mana tool. However, this thus also made people complacent.

Dispel Magic did not automatically dissipate an opposing spell— that was not how it worked. Instead, it was a struggle; you were trying to break someone else’s hold over their own magic. If their control over magic was better than yours, Dispel Magic would fail. But with practicing on mana tools, there was less resistance to the spell.

So practicing Dispel Magic on a mana lamp ten times was not as effective as practicing it on a Light spell once, because the mana lamp would turn off without anyone fighting back against you to keep it on, unlike a Light spell which has a caster that would.

Of course, there was some resistance for the former, but it was incomparable to struggling against another person's magic— at least, this was true in most cases; there were always anomalies which did not make it a hard law, but merely a general rule. As such, even if I could dispel the bindings created by Julian’s super-expensive mana tool, that did not necessarily mean I could dispel a Binding spell by Victor.

It just was not the same.

I turned another page, and continued reading. Thaumaturgy was not incredibly vast like Pyromancy or Aeromancy was; it started out easy, but became incredibly complex really quickly, making it a smaller field of study than the two— although it was still more studied than something like Shamanism. However, the Demon Lord, as the inventor of magic and all, accounted for the increasingly steep learning curve when it came to learning Thaumaturgy in his writings.

He outlined a step-by-step method to achieve intermediate proficiency in this school of magic. If followed properly and consistently, the average person would be able to learn everything in this book of mostly basic spells and a handful of advanced ones, within… a decade.

I slammed the book shut. Nope, I thought, standing up and heading out of the tent. That’s annoying. Why is magic so hard to learn?! Another two hours had passed since I started reading the Thauma and mental exhaustion was finally starting to catch up to me. Doing nothing but studying every day was tiring, especially without anything else to do to relax; I needed to find someone and just… chat for a bit.

I was not an extrovert— I didn’t need to be around other people to energize myself— but I was also not an introvert. I was your average ambivert: prolonged periods of both isolation as well as companionship drained me of energy. I had to strike a delicate balance between the two, which was not possible when all I ever talked to others about were the things I wanted to avoid when talking to them— studying.

I strolled around the encampment, searching for anyone to chat with; I passed by dozens of Goblins hurrying about in all directions and frowned. It wasn’t this busy the last time I went out. I waved my hand and called out to one of them.

"Hey," I said, and the Goblin paused midstep, but he did not respond. I hesitated, but managed to squeak. "Uh, what are you guys doing?"

The Goblin shuffled uncomfortably on his feet, glancing back and forth between me and his companions leaving him. He opened his mouth as if he were about to give a quick answer, but someone spoke over him.

"He’s busy working. Being productive and helping us move camp tomorrow, unlike you."

I spun around and saw Karna standing there with his arms folded. He gestured for the Goblin to go, and the Goblin listened, quickly hurrying after his friends as they went to dismantle a tent.

"Move… camp?" I asked dumbly. "Has it really already been two weeks?"

"Yes," he said. "Now don’t bother us while we work. And especially don’t disturb the Commander and the Dark Acolyte— they can’t baby you forever, girl."

I raised an eyebrow at that, but he was already off; my lips drew into a thin line as I watched him go, ordering about other Goblins to different areas of the camp. What a jerk, I thought, shaking my head.

Because of that unpleasant interaction, I lost all interest I had to speak with anyone; I was not being unproductive— I was studying. Sure I was currently wandering about the camp trying to distract people who were busy by talking to them, but…

I sighed. I’m so annoyed right now.

I went back to my tent, and resumed reading The Thauma until I finished it, before moving onto the next book. Sometime after that, darkness took over and I fell asleep.

Chapter 30: Feeding Hunger

"Melas," a deep voice said.

It boomed through the very world itself, creating a great tremor upon the ground at my feet. I felt myself free falling as the massive earthquake broke apart the land, the sea, and the sky, shattering—

"It’s time to wake up."

"Huh?"

I sat up, rubbing an eye as Gerritt slowly let go of me. I glanced up at the large Orc as he stared back down at me.

"When did you fall asleep?" he asked, a look of concern on his face. "You look tired. Did you not get enough rest last night?"

I was about to respond when I felt drool running down the side of my cheek; I quickly wiped it off and spoke.

"Uh, I don’t know?" I answered truthfully. I raised my shoulders in a shrug and made a guess. "Maybe two… three hours ago?"

"Hrmph, that’s not good," he said. "A child at your age should be getting a full night’s rest if you want to develop properly."

"I know," I said, sighing and rubbing my temples. "I was just… irritated."

"Why’s that?" he asked, frowning.

"It’s nothing." I shook my head and stood up. I glanced around the tent— at my unpacked belongings— before turning back to Gerritt. "We’re leaving soon right? I’ve got to pack up. Victor gave me a lot of books to read, and I’ll have to find some way to carry them all."

"Hrmph." He eyed the cluttered mess that was my room, and folded his arms. "Once you’re done gathering your things, meet me in the center of the camp. There is transportation arranged to carry our cargo, and I don’t believe an extra bag or two would weigh us down too much."

"Oh." I stared up at the Orc— at his kindness— still slightly unnerved at how helpful he was being towards me. Then I bowed my head slightly. "Thank you."

Gerritt returned the bow before turning and leaving me in my tent; I quickly packed up any and all valuables I had, pausing only once I had it all inside a bag. I looked through my belongings, and for just a moment, I felt a pang of something that was almost like guilt, but not exactly.

And that was because I did not own anything of my own: everything I had on me was something that I had been given recently. There were no objects in my bag of sentimental value— nothing that had been given to me by my mom. I remembered for just a moment a lighter— the simple mana tool my mom used to teach me how to work a mana crystal. I almost wished I did not destroy it, so I could at least have something to remember my mom by.

But I had none.

I shook those thoughts away, and quickly closed the bag. I headed out of my tent, and glanced about; Goblins were almost finished dismantling the camp, but we weren’t about to leave just yet. That was because it was probably still evening outside, before the sun had completely set and night had taken over.

Goblins had night vision, similar to Cat Beastkin, which meant it was advantageous for us to travel under the blanket of darkness, hence why we were traveling at night; I knew we were relocating to a strategic location, although the exact details of what was going on were not told to me. Modern means of transportation did not exist, so you actually had to walk if you did not have any beasts of burden to pull you along. It was tiresome, but I was used to it by now.

Eventually, I found Gerritt. He was directing some Goblins into loading a cart being pulled by… a horse? No, not just a horse, it was an undead horse. The Orc turned to me as I arrived.

"Hrmph, disgusting isn’t it?" he asked, looking at his reanimated Zombie.

"It’s… rotting," I helpfully put in.

"Frankly, I am not a fan of Zombies either, yet they are far more durable than mere Skeletons. Of course, both would serve their purpose with the job of simply pulling cargo. However, it would take too much unnecessary time to raise only the bones of a decomposing corpse."

"I see." I nodded along, then something in my head clicked. "Wait, decomposing? As in, recently dead?"

He grunted in affirmation. "It has been rotting for a week now, but yes, its current state is exactly as it was when I reanimated it."

My eyes widened in shock, and I pointed at the undead animal. "That’s the horse Victor and I arrived in a week ago!" I exclaimed.

"Of course," Gerritt agreed. "Where else would we have found a horse anywhere nearby?"

I frowned. "But that’s…"

That means you killed it.

I wanted to say that, but I stopped myself. What was wrong with killing it? I ate animal meat all the time and never thought twice about it. Plus, it made sense: killing a pack animal and bringing it back with Necromancy meant you did not have to use up resources to sustain it. And considering that we did not have much resources to spare, it was the only smart move.

Perhaps it was more humane to have simply killed it; keeping a horse alive in a small stable inside a dark cave would not have been an ideal living condition for it. There was also no worry of overworking an undead horse. It’s like killing a horse with a broken leg.

"Is something wrong, Melas?"

"It’s nothing," I muttered. "So, do I just put my stuff here?"

"Hrmph, yes." The Orc reached for my bag of books, but I stopped him.

"Wait," I said, glancing around. "Is there anything I can do to help?"

"No. We’re mostly finished, though I do appreciate the offer."

"I see." I nodded, and reached into my bag, taking out the grimoire I had started on the night before. "I’ll just read this in the meantime, while we prepare to leave."

"Of course. Don’t worry about us, just focus on studying and practicing your spellcraft." Gerritt paused, then quickly added, "Just don’t do anything that would bring the ceiling down on us."

"I won’t. Promise." I reassured the Dark Commander with a smile, as I began to walk away.

I was willing to do anything to get my mind off of the serious stuff. Even study. So that was what I did.

I sat on a rock just by some torchlight, and continued where I last remembered I left off. It was not about a specialized book like The Thauma. It covered the general idea behind using magic to manipulate the elements.

Magic was not simply creating things out of thin air; some fields of magic were predicated on controlling the environment. If you took Geomancy for example, creating a wall of stone was possible with magic, yet it was more efficient to use magic to raise the ground up as a wall. Because, with earth magic, you had access to the earth all around you.

This was very different from Pyromancy where the biggest source of fire most people would find near them was a cooking fire. That was why Victor could create a ball of fire from nothing, but manipulated his surroundings to create the stone spear back when he saved me. And yet, apparently knowing how to control real fire was almost as important for Pyromancy as controlling the earth was for Geomancy.

The grimoire did not delve into the specifics of either Terramancy or Pyromancy, but gave an overview of all spellcasting fields. It was a foundational skill— like learning how to walk before you ran. It was something that helped you better grasp magic, and not a guide on advanced spells.

Of course, walking was not useful in a race. You did not walk your way through the 100 meter sprint in the Olympics. Yet, walking had its own uses, like for travelling incredibly long distances. In a similar vein, understanding how to manipulate the environment had its own uses.

It was not just an exercise or some sort of stretch you did before a workout, although that was one of its benefits. It was effective when employed properly on its own, which made it incredibly useful to learn.

One of the principal examples of this was from thousands of years ago, when the Demon Lord was young and magic was still new to this world. An army had been sent to attack Hell during the First Holy War.

At the time, a clash between the Demons and this army would have caused significant casualties on both sides, unlike during the Final Holy War where the Demon Lord would have been able to face them all alone.

As such, the Demon Lord chose to tactically avoid fighting them, and retreated to a better strategic location. He led his people away from the army, leading them through the forests, through the plains, through the valleys, and through mountains. And there, on a narrow pass after a rainy day, he laid his trap.

The army sent by the Church marched unknowingly through the valley, tired and weary from chasing the Demon Lord for so long. It was then that the ground began to move. The earth shifted like some kind of an illusion, but it was no mirage that the soldiers saw. It was a landslide.

The hills were too low and warm for an avalanche, but a landslide could occur on any rocky slope. Light rain fell over the weeks summoned by the Demon Lord’s magic, and it had weakened the soil, priming it to fall. Then, with a little bit of push using more magic, the earth came down on the army.

Not a single soldier survived.

It kind of reminded me of the story with Moses, and how he crushed the Pharaoh's army with a miracle. But this was not a miracle— that was not how miracles work in this world. This was magic. And I wanted to learn it.

I closed the book, and closed my eyes. I focused— concentrating not on trying to create or destroy anything, but to simply feel the world. There was a warmth coming from near me. I did not grab for it; instead, I just felt it.

The warm radiance quivered gently; or at least, it felt like it did. I focused on the heat, on the small blaze that stood silently alone, and I willed it to move.

Slowly, I opened my eyes. And the flames were dancing.

The flames from the torch flickered back and forth like it was in a dance. I watched it spin in circles like a ballerina, going faster and faster as I called on it. The fire began to twirl, losing its teardrop shape, forming into a ring in the air.

It was a fire dance: one where the performer spun their shining poi in the air. It continued coiling into itself, creeping closer to me with its tail end like a rope.

But it was too slow. I wanted it to move faster. So I reached for the flame—

And the fire erupted into the air. A plume of orange blaze burst out of the lone torch, its intense heat overwhelming me for a moment. Then it was gone; the fire was extinguished.

Darn, I sighed. I lost control of it, and the spell failed; I tried to force the flames to me, rather than ease it in my direction. The magic circle on my hand dissipated as I got up to inspect the torch. I shook my head. Completely burned out.

I was lucky. If it was near anything flammable, the fire would have continued to spread. But because it was just on the torch, the flames simply used up all its fuel. I got up, as I heard a voice from the side.

"Melas," Victor called out to me. "We’re leaving."

I turned to face the young man and called back. "Coming!" I strolled over to him, and he regarded me..

"I can see you’re taking your training seriously. Your control over the fire was commendable." He nodded, before pausing. "At least, before the end," he added.

"Oh." I flushed at the praise, ignoring the last bit. "Uh, thanks."

"However,"— Victor raised a finger— "fire manipulation is not so simple. Not every flame burns the same, nor does it all beckon to the same calls. The same applies for the rest of the elements; I suggest focusing on only one for now, lest you overstretch your capacity to learn."

He beckoned for me to follow him as he continued to explain, so I did.

"I believe your focus should be on controlling fire. Its manipulation is a crucial aspect of Pyromancy that is often overlooked. Understanding how natural flames work would better help one in conjuring it with magic. Furthermore, I am partial towards fire magic, so I would be better able to assist you in this regard."

I nodded along as we slowly made our way through the narrow corridors leading us to the outside.

Victor continued. "Judging by what you’re trying to do, I believe you’re reading the grimoire I gave you on the elements?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Very good," he said. "It is one of my personal favorites, and one of the first grimoires I read. Acquiring it as a youth in the Holy Xan Empire was not so easy. In fact, it would have probably been impossible if you lived in its capital city. But Xantus is not as meticulous on that as Xanderia, so I eventually managed. And I’m glad for it, as it staved me away from malpractice when I finally began actual spellcasting."

"Wait." I halted midstep and stared at the young man. "You’re from the Holy Xan Empire?" I asked, aghast.

"Indeed I am. Is that a problem?"

"No—" I hesitated. "How did you… learn magic? Wouldn’t you be taught that magic is bad since you were young?"

He snorted. "Does it matter?" he asked, cocking a brow. "Your mother herself is proof that the influence of the Church only reaches so far into a child’s development."

"I, uh, see. I was just curious. Please continue."

"Very well then." The young man took on a lecturing tone. He wagged a finger in the air as he spoke, and his words exuberated his passion in magic. I simply listened as the Dark Acolyte delved into the intricacies of fire manipulation and how it aided with fire creation.

Then, Victor paused. He put a hand over his chin, and muttered to himself. "Of course, the best way to understand this is by experiencing it yourself. But how would— ah."

At the mouth of the cave, a familiar Goblin stood holding a torch. Karna was organizing the other Goblins slowly streaming out of the cave with us, when Victor walked up to him.

"Sir, did you need something?"

"Yes, I need that for training purposes." The young man gestured at the object on the Goblin’s hand.

Karna looked at the torch, and blinked. "Of course— "

Then Victor reached over and snatched it off his hand.

"Thanks," the Dark Acolyte said without looking back at the Goblin.

That was… rude? I wanted to apologize to Karna for that, but Victor was already dragging me away; I glanced back at the Goblin, and saw him frowning with his arms folded glaring at me. Great, he hates me more now.

Victor continued talking, ignorant of my woes. "Ah, yes. This is the perfect exercise for this."

He handed me the torch, and I stared at it bewildered. "What do I do with this?" I asked.

"I saw what you did with the torch earlier. It was a small spectacle, but lasted only a minute. Not enough time to learn anything." The young man pointed at the torch, and a magic circle formed on his fingertips.

The fire blazed larger than before, and I felt its heat all the way up to my elbows. It was like I was holding a campfire in my hand. The magic circle disappeared from Victor’s fingers, but the fire did not get smaller.

"This," he said as he lowered his hand, "is going to last five hours. Once the time is up, the flame would have consumed all of its fuel, and it will snuff out. I want you to keep it burning without lowering its intensity until we stop to make camp."

"Wait, aren’t we going to be traveling for at least six hours? How do I keep the fire alive for that long?!" I protested.

The Dark Acolyte shrugged. "Figure it out."

Then he turned around and walked away from me.

This sucks.

I trudged along the dark forest, illuminated only by the silver moonlight… and the blazing torch in my hand. Goblins moved around me in the shadows, carrying large backpacks on them. It was not that the bags were big; it was normal in size for a regular Human. However, the key word there was Human, and not Goblin. And most of the Goblins were around my height.

Sure, some were noticeably shorter than me, and even less were significantly taller than me, but on average, they were just over four feet and a half. So their bags filled with equipment were comically big relative to their size.

It was like a cartoon! I felt like doubling over and laughing at the scene. I would have, but… luckily for me, I’m too focused on this stupid fire!

I stared into the flame, smoldering brightly in the night. It was frustrating; no matter what I tried to do, the fire continued to eat up its fuel. I tried making it bigger— thinking there was some kind of trick to it— but that only made it burn out faster.

Realizing that I was an idiot, I decided to spread out the fire more. Maybe that would slow its burning?

Nope, didn’t work either.

I tried calling the fire to me, making it dance, doing all the things I did earlier, but it was all to no avail. It’s literally impossible! You can’t do this without making the fire smaller!

But that was not allowed, apparently. So I had no options I could think of. I was just left with feeling the fire— both literally, and magically. And I had to somehow deal with the former too. It’s hot!

I just stared at it, seeing the orange flames flicker, watching it flutter in the wind; it was always moving, never static— and in that sense, it was no different from regular fires.

I felt it all.

I focused. And recalled something; knowledge from another world came pouring into me. I remembered how heat traveled, how radiation carries heat from object to object. But more than, I remembered a kind of fire that did not dance. That just stood there, like some kind of statue.

The blue flames made from modern machines; that burned so hot, yet so steady. And fueled by a concentrated and an abundant source of energy. Then I realized, I could do that too.

No, I did not have to change the fire. I was fixated too much on that redundancy. No matter what shape I gave the flame, it would eat the same amount of fuel as long as it blazed at the same intensity.

But no matter how hot it was— just like the flames from a bunsen burner, a gas stove, or any appliances that created fire— they would always burn as long as they had fuel. It was a simple realization, really. Not much of an epiphany. Yet it made all the difference in the world.

I pooled mana into the flames, concentrating on feeding it, rather than letting it feed itself. And it was not easy, as the stubborn fire chose to feast on what it wanted. At first, my attempts at fueling it with mana did very little to stifle the wax burning away underneath; it consumed both sources of fuel, and chose to burn brighter.

But I felt the flames, and I felt its hunger. So I understood it.

I quenched its thirst, and fed it till it was full. I left it satiated with mana, giving it exactly what it wanted. Its gluttony was gone, so although the fire still burned, the wax burned no more.

I smiled to myself as I looked at my triumph in my hand. I was just holding a regular torch, but I held it with pride as if I were the torchbearer for the Olympics.

I felt good about myself. However I also felt hot. Because the torch was hot. I sighed. Now I have to figure out how to keep it from radiating heat to me. Or cool myself down.

And I spent the rest of the time walking figuring out how to do just that.

Several hours later, we finally stopped to set up camp in a clearing; everyone began to pitch their tents or put up small wooden barricades around the perimeter of the encampment. Meanwhile, I presented the still-burning torch to Victor.

"Ah, good job Melas," the blue haired man said as he took the torch from me. "You’ve kept it burning for almost seven hours straight. Although I see that its fuel has almost run out and you’ve suffered some light burns."

I blushed, slightly embarrassed. "Well, uh, trying to focus on feeding the fire and keeping it from burning me wasn’t easy," I explained. "At first, whenever I tried to do either, I almost completely stopped doing the other. It took a bit of time for me to focus on both at the same time. I only got a bit used to it in the last hour."

"Yes, I can see that." Victor cast a quick spell, extinguishing the flames. "Regardless, it was a good exercise for you, was it not?"

"It really was." I nodded.

"Good, keep trying to find other ways to manipulate fire. Don’t limit yourself to what you think you can do, but think outside the box; with magic, almost anything is possible." He tossed the torch to the ground, and pointed at my hand. "Now get that healed up. It’s a minor burn, but I understand it probably is quite significant for a child. Go find Karna, he knows where the healing potions are."

"Oh, thanks." I slowly spun around to walk away, then paused. "And thank you for the lesson. I really appreciate it, Victor," I added before leaving.

I barely heard Victor mumble a ‘you’re welcome’, as I searched the camp for Karna. Honestly, I did not think I needed a healing potion for my hand; it was barely even a first degree burn. I could survive without getting it healed.

But it gave me an excuse to find Karna. Because I wanted to speak with him. Eventually, I found him.

"Hey Karna," I greeted him.

The Goblin was strutting out of a tent, and stopped right outside of it. He gave me a sidelong glance and asked. "...what do you want?"

"I, uh, was told you know where the healing potions are."

"Yes," he simply said.

I hesitated. "Um… where is it?"

Karna raised a hand and pointed at one of the unloaded carts. "It’s there," he answered, then began to walk away.

"Wait," I called out to him. "There’s something else."

The Goblin paused mid-step, and frowned. "What is it now?"

"I just wanted to apologize too!" I quickly sputtered out. The Goblin inclined his head to the side, as I continued. "For what Victor did earlier. He was just trying to help teach me. But he was being a bit rude. So... I’m sorry."

The Goblin stared at me with narrowed eyes. There was a moment of silence. Then he finally spoke up. "Can I leave now?" he asked, sounding annoyed.

This time, I was the one that frowned. "Well since you asked: no," I said. "Not yet."

Karna gave off an audible groan, and I folded my arms. "See, that’s exactly it! I’ve never done anything bad to you. In fact, I barely even know you! And all the times I’ve spoken to you, I’ve tried to be nice. But for some reason, you hate me and are a jerk to me."

I gritted my teeth as I watched the Goblin roll his luminescent eyes. He’s exactly like a mean girl in some teen drama! I screamed internally.

I continued.

"I’m not trying to force you to like me. I know better than to do that. But I just want to know: why? Why do you dislike me? What have I done wrong? And what can I do to be better?"

My questions caught the Goblin’s attention. He stopped giving me a bored look, which was replaced with a death glare. "Why, you ask? It’s simple: because you’re weak."

I waited for him to continue, but that was all he said.

"What are you talking about? How am I weak?" I barraged him with questions, forcing him to elaborate.

Karna shook his head, irritated. "You’re weak because you are. You can’t do anything for yourself, the Commander and the Dark Acolyte have to do it all for you. Not only that, but I have to go out into towns and cities to rob potions for you, to try and find anything that can heal your slave mark."

"Why must I do that for you almost every single night, while you get to stay in camp?! You who aren’t even one of us. Because you’re too scared to call yourself a Dark Crusader— even though your mother was hunted and killed by the Church— you’re too afraid to oppose them. That is why you’re weak."

His final words cut deep into me like a knife; I felt a pain in my chest, as he used my mom’s death against me. It was a low blow in every way, so it probably would have been a valid reaction for me to just storm off, mad at his comments. But I did not.

Was he insulting me in bad faith? I met his gaze, and I did not think so; he was being offensive, but that was because he truly meant those words. Yet it was not a meaningless attack, his words had some merit. So, slowly, I responded to him.

"You’re right," I conceded.. "Victor and Gerritt have been extremely kind to me, and maybe I’ve been taking advantage of it— even if it was unintentional. I was wrong."

Karna nodded, and I continued.

"And for that same reason, you’re right. Even though I didn't know you were finding potions for me from nearby towns, the pieces were all there and I could’ve put it together. I was thoughtless and exploitative. For that, I was also wrong."

I raised a hand up to the mark on my face, then took a deep breath.

"Likewise, you’re right that I’m scared," I admitted. "I’ve avoided joining the Dark Crusaders all this while, not because I’m scared of the Holy Xan Empire, but because I’m scared of knowing— of deciding. I thought I wanted revenge against them, and sometimes, I still think I do... but I’m too much of a coward to confront myself on it. So, I’m wrong on that too."

"However," I said slowly, "you’re wrong about one thing: I am not weak."

I lowered my hand to my chest, and felt my gentle heartbeats. I was calm. Completely so. I defiantly stared back at the two glowing yellow eyes, and repeated myself. "I am not weak, and I will prove it to you."

Karna looked at me warily. "How so?" He slowly reached for the weapon on his belt pocket, but I just grinned.

"I’m not going to fight you," I said. "That won’t prove anything. At best, one of us gets beaten up; at worst, one of us dies. I don’t think anyone here will be happy about either options."

"So what are you going to do?" The Goblin furrowed his brows. "If you’re not going to fight me, then what?"

"It’s simple: I will right my wrongs," I declared.

"...how does that prove anything?" Karna asked me, disbelieving.

"It takes real strength to admit one was wrong," I said. "And taking it a step further and correcting your mistake? That’s what I will do."

"What are you even talking about?"

I clarified. "You said it yourself, didn’t you? I shouldn’t get to sit around in camp while you go out and steal things that are meant for me. So I’ll go with you on your mission."

The Goblin blinked a few times, then bared his teeth at me. "Are you sure? You do realize that I’m going out tonight? You can’t delay this until later, and give the excuse that the Commander won’t let you. We leave now." He emphasized the last words.

"Sure." I shrugged.

"What?" Karna stared at me blankly.

"I mean, that’s pretty much what I expected. You did say you went out almost every night, after all. Unless, of course, you don’t want me to come with you?" I cocked an eyebrow.

"I— no. Go ahead. But I won’t babysit you like the Commander does. Do you understand that?"

"Of course," I said, grinning. "You won’t have to, because I can take care of myself."

I was not a kid, after all. Even if I was physically a kid, I was an adult mentally, and that meant I took responsibility for my own actions. And maybe if I showed off more of my magic to the Goblin, he would stop berating me.

Probably not going to happen, but it’s worth a shot.

Chapter 31: Iron-y Golems

The forest was covered by a thick darkness that came with the night and a light mist glowed in the dim moonlight, revealing only the nebulous outline of trees all around me.

But hooded figures stalked through the shadows. Quietly. Nimbly. They stepped around the shrubbery, avoiding its fallen branches as they went. There were only three of them, but they had a mission.

Well, actually, there were four of them if you included me. But I was nothing like them; they were like ninjas, while I was like a massive cannon being blasted into the night!

However, I followed them, and I tried to be as stealthy as I could.

But more than being silent, they were also fast; Karna led the way, moving so far ahead of me I could only see the vague shape of his figure ahead of me. The second Goblin stalked close behind him, however the third lagged behind a bit to wait for me.

I did not know his name, but I was immensely grateful for what he was doing. Thanks to him, I was not going to get lost. Honestly, I would not be surprised if Karna was purposefully trying to leave me behind so I was stranded; I could not ignore the possibility that he was planning on killing me out here in the middle of nowhere.

I felt for my pockets, but there was nothing in it. I did not have a weapon; there was no sword, dagger, or knife hanging from my sides. I was not given any time to grab anything to protect myself with so I could only rely on magic to fight.

To be honest, it wouldn’t have made much difference if I had a sword or a shield since I did not know how to use those effectively; the only weapon I could’ve used was a gun, and we did not have those. It was far too expensive to supply a large armament of mana tool weaponry, especially considering magic could do most of what those did for free.

That only meant that these Goblins were dangerous even when unarmed, and that was not a good thought for me to have considering my woes.

They got further and further away from me. The gap widened as I allowed them to get away, slowing down out of fear. I felt my heart jump when I saw the figures in the distance stop. Only a single thought crossed my mind, Am I going to die here?

Then I spotted the shape beyond the three Goblins— the dim light illuminating the empty night.

We’ve arrived.

I nearly sighed in relief. I quickly regained my composure, and stepped beside the Goblins.

I looked in the distance, and saw the buildings spread out before me. It was not like Bys or Boleria; this city was far smaller and less grand. Its barely ten foot tall walls were made mostly out of wood, and its buildings were not particularly remarkable either.

Is this really it? I thought to myself. Before leaving, Karna told me we were stealing from a relatively well known Alchemist in the region; I honestly expected someone like that to live in a bigger city.

I turned to the Goblin to ask the question, but before I could open my mouth he raised a hand to silence me. "Stay quiet," Karna whispered. "We’ll observe for a bit, then sneak in when the guards switch."

I nodded. Right, he still doesn’t like me.

I did not want to annoy him, so I did not speak after he explicitly told me not to. After all, I was doing this so he would not hate me… or at least, so he would stop being a jerk towards me. So I lay in the grass next to the Goblins, and watched with them.

It was dark, and I could not see so clearly; the Goblins however, could see without an issue thanks to their night vision. Their eyes trained on the guards like hawks staring down at their next prey.

I only saw the briefest of movements, shadows taking the place of one another, torchlight coming and going. Then after some time, more figures came and others left.

We watched this happen three times. In the fourth cycle, Karna gave us the signal. We ran out of the thicket, straight for the city walls. I was far more quiet than before, trying to run silently through the forest gave me a lot of time to practice. I still made a little bit of noise, but it was not enough to alert any of the guards.

I was the last one to reach the walls, but it was not an issue. We hugged close to the walls, hiding under the battlements as the new guards came up onto it; light shone in my peripheries, although it did not cast a shadow. I could not see what they were doing up there, but the restless footsteps of boots and the mundane chatter told me they were bored.

I heard a guard complaining about being overworked because of what happened in Bys. He said that Besha was too far away, so nothing like that would ever happen here, and his extra duties were thus pointless.

It sounded so… normal.

It almost reminded me of my friends complaining about school back when I was on Earth, chatting with... myself. The conversations were rarely about anything serious. We just… talked. Just like the guards while they were at work.

They eventually went away, and Karna got to work. He kneeled by the wall, two hands held together to the other Goblins up. The first went, then the second. I blinked when it was my turn.

Now’s not the time, I snapped myself out of my hesitation. I took a few steps back, and with a running start, Karna threw me up the wall.

One of the Goblins— the one who was waiting for me in the woods— reached out and grabbed me as I was mid air. He pulled me onto the ramparts as I tried to land on my tippy toes. It was not a graceful landing; I could hear a soft thud as my feet impacted the wooden floor. But it was quiet enough not to alert any guards.

I turned slowly, and saw Karna back up away from the walls. He took off in a short running start, and leapt into the air. He was three quarters of the way through when he began to lose his velocity, and he kicked off the wall to clear the rest of the way. The Goblin vaulted over the crenellations by himself, and landed right next to me without a sound. I stared at Karna as he walked past me with a smug grin.

Yep. Just like a ninja.

I sighed internally, and followed after him.

We dodged in and out of side streets, creeping through alleyways, and stayed away from the lamps illuminating the night. The roads were mostly empty; the only people we saw were drunk and heading home from a night out. There were some patrols of guards, but that was incredibly sparse too since most of them currently on duty were probably posted at the walls.

Karna led the way through all of this. I simply followed his cue since I didn’t want to mess anything up. Eventually, we reached a richer area of the city. The houses got bigger, as did land surrounding it. They were not massive mansions, but they were definitely more luxurious. They were spread further apart too, so we had to stick close to the buildings.

We rounded a corner, and came face to face with what looked like a three storey shop. A small hedge surrounded it, with a gate barring our path. There was a little road for wagons that led to its front door, with a sign hanging above it.

I squinted, but I still could barely make out the words. However, I was pretty sure it had the word ‘Alchemy’ in it, and Karna’s nod confirmed my suspicions. This is the place, I thought.

It was fancy: it definitely looked like the place a rich Alchemist would live in. We climbed over the front gates, and this time, I did not need any help!

Karna brought us around the building to a back door. There, the two other Goblins stood at a distance keeping watch, as he took out a set of lockpicks and began to fumble with the doorknob. Only ten seconds went by before I heard a click, and the door gently swung open.

The Goblin held out a hand, and waited to hear any sound. When nothing happened, Karna slowly peeked into the room.

"All clear," he called out in a hushed voice.

He stepped into the room followed by me and another Goblin. The last Goblin stayed put, staying on lookout.

We entered into what looked like a kitchen. Since it was an Alchemist shop, I was expecting to see test tubes and beakers strewn about, full of glowing liquids. But, it was just a regular kitchen.

Karna turned to the Goblin to my left. "Look for a storage room— a place where the potions are kept," he said. Then he pointed at me. "You, stay with me."

The Goblin split off to the right, while Karna and I continued to a door straight ahead. We entered a hallway with a few doors on both sides. "Wait out here," he ordered, before entering the first room.

Fine. I waited impatiently as the Goblin went from room to room. I stared beyond the hallway, and saw the storefront, but it was empty. From what I could see, the display shelves were cleared of potions, except for a few empty bottles on the counter. I narrowed my eyes.

That’s suspicious.

I looked back, and saw Karna was still busy checking every nook and cranny in a room full of books. He was even pulling out books as if it would trigger a trap door to open. While he’s busy, I’m just going to investigate.

I mean, I’ll still be out here, so there’s no problem, right?

I poked my head into the main room of the store. It was almost like a jewellery shop; there were glass displays on the side, and some in the middle of the room. But once again, no potions to be seen. Hiding fragile and expensive potions into a back room every single day sounds like a hassle. Unless the back room is right here.

It was simple logic. Stupid logic, even. But coming from a world with an incredibly short attention span because of automation, I knew how to be lazy. Anything to speed up the process was greatly appreciated, no matter how little it was.

I reached underneath the store counter, searching for what I thought was there. Plus, the best way to hide something, is to hide it in plain sight. My hand found what felt like a lever and I pulled it.

I heard the muffled sound of gears turning and pistons moving, then watched as the floor behind the counter opened up. I grinned.

I cupped my hands around my mouth and quietly called back into the hallway. "Pst, Karna, I found it."

The Goblin stepped out of a room, and stared at me blankly. "What?"

I pointed at the hole in the floor that led to a secret basement. "I found the secret room," I whispered excitedly.

His gaze flickered to what I was pointing at, then he frowned. "I see," he said, not bothering to mask his dissatisfaction. "Wait here, I’ll get Sena."

I sighed. Why do I even bother? Literally can’t even please him. But this was more for me, than it was for him. If this ‘bonding time’ didn’t change anything, then there was nothing else I could do. I only wanted to reach a level of understanding with him— which was proving to be more difficult than I thought it would be.

And no matter what happens between him and I, doing this will only help me finally get rid of this stupid mark.

I placed a hand on my face, on the brand by my eye. It was a possibility; if there was a high quality healing potion, then I would have to immediately use it. I couldn’t wait until I got rid of the slave mark.

Karna returned with the other Goblin, Sena, and we made our way down the steps; the two of them were checking every step for traps, while I followed behind them. I did try and look out for anything that seemed off to me, but I did not have night vision nor the expertise in breaking and entering, so I mainly entrusted it to them.

We reached the end of the stairway, and found ourselves in a dimly lit laboratory. Vials of different colored liquids were scattered throughout various tables in the large room, with more potions locked behind shelves around the sides. Now this is more what I expected when I imagined an Alchemist shop.

Karna handed me an empty bag. "Grab only healing potions. And make sure you take the ones that glow— those are more potent."

"Thanks," I said as I took the bag. Healing potions— of course— were red, so I began sorting through all the vials full of red liquid.

I picked up a vial of something that looked reddish in color, but I put it back down. That’s lightish red! It was not pink though. I might have kept it if it was pink.

I also stayed away from the beakers and test tubes full of liquid; those were probably incomplete mixtures and dangerous to use. All in all, I found four vials of reddish liquid— none glowing— that I hoped were healing potions and stuffed it in my bag.

It was then I saw the safe.

"Hey, uh—" I called out to Karna, but he was too busy inspecting a faintly glowing vial to hear me. I turned to the other Goblin. "...Sena?"

"Hm?" The Goblin looked at me disinterestedly.

I recognized him as the other Goblin who tried to leave me behind with Karna. I asked as nicely as I could, "Do you know how to open this?"

Sena eyed the wooden chest covered in metal bands. "Mhm," he mumbled out, as he reached for something on his back.

"Wait, what are you doing?" I stared at the Goblin blankly, as he nocked an arrow.

"That’s a safe," he stated the obvious.

"Uh, yes? But I don’t think you should do that."

"Can’t lockpick it. Just going to break it. Far easier." He ignored my protests and continued with what he was doing.

"But—"

He loosed a piercing shot into the chest. I heard a loud crack as the arrow broke through the thin layer of metal and wood effortlessly, and ducked for cover as splinters flew at me.

"See? It’s open," Sena announced.

I brushed my face with my hands, and stared into the safe. It was indeed open— if a huge hole in the middle of it meant it was open. I saw something move in the corner of my eye, as the Goblin pried the top of the chest off.

"Look, there’s even a—"

"Watch out!" I grabbed Sena and threw him to the ground as a large sword slashed inches past him.

A seven foot tall humanoid figure loomed before us, wielding a greatsword on one hand, and a tower shield on the other. It was not a person attacking us, but a construct. It raised its sword to strike at us again, when an arrow barely pierced through its chest.

"Get back!" Karna yelled from behind us, as he loosed more shots at it.

The arrows were barely staggering the construct! Karna drew another bolt, and this time a magic circle formed at the arrowhead—

When a spear stabbed past the Goblin’s head. Karna barely ducked under the attack, and turned to face the second construct in the room. But I didn’t pay attention to this.

I raised a hand and backed up quickly alongside Sena, who was fumbling for his bow and arrow. He fired a single piercing shot, before the first construct managed to take a swing at him. He just barely managed to roll under the greatsword, when my magic circle finished forming.

I pointed at the construct, and an orb of energy flashed through the air at it. The magical missile impacted its back, and exploded.

The construct recoiled for the briefest of a moment, then slowly stood up straight and directed its attention to me: nothing more than a small chunk of its back blown away.

It was at this moment, I noticed the features of the construct— both constructs, actually. They were both mostly gray, except for a red glow in their stomach. But they were only gray in the dark room. Maybe, if there was more light, they would be another color. A brighter gray. Something like… silver.

Ah, they are made of metal.

I had the epiphany, then the iron golem charged at me.

***

Karna had heard of golems before. He was told that the Dwarves were especially good at making them, and even using them as a substitute to soldiers as a way to minimize casualties in war. However, Karna had never actually fought one, let alone ones made of metal. They were expensive. They were powerful. And suffice to say, he did not know what to do.

The Goblin loosed more piercing shots at the spear golem. The arrows jutted out of its chest, as it swung at him, but he was too fast.

Karna slid in between the golem’s legs, and the spear struck against the wall. The golem had its weapon wedged as the Karna fired his first explosive shot at its back. Metal parts blasted off its side, but it was unfazed. It continued struggling to pry its spear out, as Karna shot another arrow at its head.

Half of the golems head was blown apart now, and Karna grinned triumphantly at his victory. He was about to turn around to help Sena, when the golem jerked. In one swift motion, the golem pulled out its weapon and swung at the Goblin with the butt of its spear.

Karna leapt backwards, and was immediately faced by a barrage of stabs. The golem was thrusting wildly at him! He dodged the flurry of attacks as he backed up.

The Goblin reached for his belt and ducked under a sideways slash. The golem pulled back for a stab, and Karna deflected it to the side with his dagger. In that instant, he closed the distance to the golem and slashed its sides.

A small cut formed where Karna struck, but nothing else happened. Why won’t you die?! The golem kicked him. He flew back and rolled before he came to a stop.

Karna was picking himself up, when the golem stood over him. It raised its spear to finish him off—

And a magic missile struck the golem in the stomach. The golem reeled back, giving Karna the chance to quickly move away and pick up his bow.

His ears perked up as an annoying high pitched voice called out, "Aim for its stomach! That’s where its core— the mana crystal— is!"

Melas gestured at her own stomach, before running from the other iron golem. Sena sent arrows at its abdomen from the side, attracting the sword golem’s ire.

Karna blinked. "I— got it," he said, as he pulled an arrow back.

The spear golem charged at him, and he loosed an explosive bolt at its stomach. But it saw the attack coming. It turned to the side, taking the blast on its shoulders instead.

"Tsk," Karna clicked his tongue, and began to circle the golem firing a volley of arrows. He was switching between regular shots and magical shots since the golem could not block all of it.

It could only block some, and was tripped up by the harmless arrows that bounced off its armor alternating between the powerful enchanted ones that blasted it apart. The golem raised its spear out and spun.

Karna saw this, and he ducked underneath the swing. He ran up to the golem as he drew an arrow, loading it for an explosive shot. The golem raised its spear, ready to thrust it at the Goblin—

And missed.

Karna jumped up in the air as it stabbed the ground. He aimed his bow at the golem’s core, and loosed. This time, it could not react.

The explosion blew apart the mana crystal powering the iron golem. Without an energy source, it simply slumped over, and slowly collapsed on the ground.

Karna landed next to the fallen construct, and breathed a sigh of relief. What about the other one? He spun around, only to see Melas and Sena standing over the fallen golem— its mana crystal also destroyed.

They were both panting heavily. But they won. And yet, when Karna looked at the golem— at Sena’s broken bow— he could only think of one thing. He walked up to the two of them.

Melas smiled at him. "We did it—"

"What were you thinking?!"

She paused. "...me?"

"You nearly killed us you idiot! Why did you do that?!"

The Human girl frowned. "Are you being serious?"

"Yes!" Karna shouted in frustration. "Why would you just destroy—"

"Ok, first of all, I just saved your life," Melas spoke over the Goblin’s rant. Then she pointed to the side. "Second, I didn’t even do this, he did."

"What?"

"Yes. He did. And before you accuse me of lying, why don’t you ask him?" She folded her arms. "Go on."

Karna narrowed his eyes. "...Sena. Did you do this?"

"I— uh…" The other Goblin shuffled his feet. "Yes."

"And I told him not to. But he didn’t listen. So how is this my fault?" The girl glared at the both of them.

Karna felt his anger turning into embarrassment. He felt… foolish. And her stare did not help with that feeling. She was tapping a finger on her elbow, as if she was expecting something. Like an apology.

But Karna didn’t want to apologize. His pride would not let him. He felt his face grow hotter by the second, before he heard Sena mumble something.

"...potion."

"Hm?" Melas raised an eyebrow. "Did you say something?"

"Healing potion. I saw a glowing one"— he pointed at the chest— "in there. And it was very bright."

Melas blinked. "Why didn’t you say so earlier?!" she exclaimed.

The girl threw herself at the destroyed safe. She rummaged through its remains, before finally pulling out a bottle with a shining red liquid.

"It’s here! This is actually it! My savior! My freedom!"

Melas held the healing potion up and waved it in the air. She hugged it and sighed wistfully. "Things are finally starting to get better—"

"Hey, guys!"

A voice interrupted the girl’s cheers. Everyone turned to stare at the third Goblin. At the fourth member of their party.

At their lookout.

"We need to get out of here. City guards are going to be swarming in any minute."

Chapter 32: Sneaky Escape

The sounds of footsteps echoed through the empty street; a patrol of guards marched past, carrying torches and weapons as they went.

"Sacred piss, why is everyone so up in arms over a robbery? It’s not even morning, and they’ve gathered just about every damned guard available for this!"

"Didn’t you hear? It’s not just some petty thief stealing from any random shop. They stole potions from Alair!"

"The Alchemist? Are you sure?"

"Yep. Heard it from the captain myself. Apparently what they took was worth hundreds of gold. And the damage they caused when breaking in was worth even more."

"They’re really going to make whoever did this pay, huh?"

"If we catch them."

"We better hope we do. Alair’s one of the best alchemists in the Free Lands. If we don't find and bring him these thieves' heads, I wouldn’t be surprised if he ups and leaves for another city."

"Then let’s find them. The captain will chew our asses out if we don’t."

The voices slowly went away, and only then did I breathe a sigh of relief. "They’re gone, right?" I whispered to Karna.

The Goblin nodded in confirmation. "Stay behind me," he said.

He ran out of the alleyway, and I followed him across the street into another side passage. Sena and the other Goblin stalked behind me, presumably covering our backs; we snuck our way down the back street, turning around corners as we made our way towards the city walls.

It was almost sunrise. The orange glow of daybreak has not yet peeked over the horizon, so we still had the shadow of the night to give us cover. I felt my heart wanting to burst out of my chest, fearing that day would come and we would be caught.

I clutched at the potion on my belt. Still there, I thought. It was reassuring to know I had it. We left the other potions behind, as it would have made it more difficult to escape. But this potion? It was the healing potion that would get rid of the stupid mark on my face.

I wanted to use it right this instant, but we were not safe. Not until we got out of the city. So I had to wait. Just a bit more, I told myself, trying to remain calm.

We rounded a corner, and finally we finally reached the city walls. A dozen guards with swords and spears were gathered around the closed gates while archers lined the walls, all of them keeping an eye out for anyone they could find.

"What do we do now?" I asked softly, my hands balled to a fist to stop it from shaking. "There’s no way we’re sneaking past that."

Karna paused, his eyes scanning the area and his night vision seeing things I could not. Then he sighed. "You’re right. There’s too many of them keeping watch, and they’re all on alert. We have no other choice."

"No choice?" I raised an eyebrow, but I already knew what he was going to say.

"We fight."

"Wait!" I put a hand out. "They outnumber us ten to one. We’ll be slaughtered!" I said in a hushed voice.

"Yes." Karna nodded, not disagreeing. "Which is why we don’t fight all of them. We just have to force our way through. Kill anyone who gets in our way, and make a break for it. Maybe they’ll stop pursuing us after a while. That’s our only chance of getting out of here."

"I—" There was no time to argue. I stared at the dozens of armed guards, all blocking our escape route. "I don’t have a weapon," I sputtered out quickly.

Karna unlatched something from his belt. He handed me a leather case with a dagger sheathed inside of it. "Here, take mine. I don’t need it. It’s permanently enchanted to be sharper than a regular blade. Just don’t lose it."

I blinked.

"But— uh, thank you."

I accepted the weapon, and drew it as Karna turned to the other two Goblins.

"You two will target the guards on the ground. Sena lost his bow, so make sure you watch his back, Ihsan," he ordered as he nocked his own bow and arrow. "I saw a few guards with rifles on the walls. I will take care of them. But we have to make a break for it— straight for the walls."

The two Goblins uttered a quiet reply, and readied their weapons; Karna turned around, and I piped up.

"What do I do?"

"You?" He looked me in the eye. "Just stay alive."

It was a simple job; something most people did quite well. But at this moment, it definitely was not going to be easy.

I nodded anyways. "Got it," I said.

"On my mark."

We all waited with bated breath for what came next. The guards by the gates stood restlessly amongst themselves, while the ones on the walls seemed bored. An archer covered his mouth to yawn—

"Mark."

We burst out of the alleyway, and an arrow went straight through a man’s skull. Another gaped in shock as the man fell from the wall, but was silenced by an arrow into his open mouth. A guard on the ground spun around—

But was felled by two arrows to the chest.

"We’re under attack!"

"The thieves? Kill them!"

"Wait, are those children—"

Chaos broke out as the guards both on the walls and by the gates went clambering for their weapons. A man holding a torch was unsheathing his sword, but I pointed a finger at him. At the flames.

A magic circle flashed in the air, and the fire from the torch burst out in a brilliant red plume. It lasted only a second, but still the man recoiled. He dropped to the ground, clutching his burnt arm and screaming in pain. I ignored it and surveyed the battlefield.

I saw Karna loosing arrows and running straight for the walls. A rifler unloaded bolts of energy at him, and he barely dodged the attacks by rolling to the side. He sidestepped more shots, spinning, drawing more arrows and nocking them into his bow. He pulled it back as a magic circle appeared in front of the arrowhead, before he fired the shot at the rifler.

The rifler tried to dodge. But Karna was accurate. The arrow slid in between the crenellations, and exploded on his chest.

I did not see what happened to the rifler since I turned away at the last second, but I assumed it was a bloody sight. Instead, I focused on the other guards at the walls. An archer aiming for Karna. He pulled an arrow out of his quiver—

And ducked as I sent bolts of magical energy and fire flying at him. He took cover behind the battlements from my volley of spells, and even when he was out of sight, I continued casting in a frenzy. It was covering fire— I had to make sure he did not peek out again.

I stopped as a shadow loomed over me, and I barely dodged as a sword swung right past my face. I tried to back up, but was knocked to the ground by a kick.

The guard raised his sword asI raised my hand. I swung the dagger weakly at him, but he easily dodged it. No—

Then, the guard slumped over. An arrow was protruding out of the back of his head. I saw a Goblin holding a bow— not Karna or Sena, but the third one— calling out to me.

"Come on. Let’s go!"

He helped pick me up, and brought me over to the walls. We ran past Sena who was stabbing a spearman to death, before we stopped. I looked up. Karna was already up there. He was alternating between loosing arrows at the guards on the walls and on the ground.

The Goblin standing next to me gestured up there. "You first. I’ll boost you."

Karna was busy. There was no one to catch me if I did not make it, but I did not argue; there was no time for that. I stepped back, and jumped. The Goblin gave me a boost. I reached up for the crenellations, and pulled myself over it.

I stumbled for a bit, but managed to catch myself from falling over. The Goblin landed right after me. Dozens more guards were arriving now. I could see them closing in. Sena saw them too.

He finished off a swordsman, and immediately made a dash for the walls. Arrows and bolts of energy flew over his head, as the guards fired at him from behind. He leapt for the ramparts—

Then he dropped.

A bullet struck him mid air.

He went tumbling down the side of the walls, falling limply onto the ground. Perhaps he could have survived the single shot. But more arrows and bullets rained down on him. He was dead.

"No!" Karna screamed, putting a hand out.

My eyes bulged as I stared down at the boy for a moment. A man on horseback lowered his gun, and pointed at us.

"After those heretics! Don’t let them get away!"

Bolts of energy and arrows whizzed past our heads. I turned around, and saw the other Goblin hopping down the wall. I ran after him and paused at the ledge.

It was a ten foot drop. Enough to injure someone if they did not land properly. But I was small, and according to physics, that meant this would not hurt as much… right?

I jumped anyways. I did my best to tuck into a roll as I landed, and it barely worked.

I felt the air leave my lungs and wheezed as soon as I impacted the ground; the world spun around me for a second, the sun spinning in place as I stared blankly at it.

At least I didn’t break any bones, the inane thought crossed my mind, then it dawned on me. Wait, the sun?

I blinked as I saw the sun barely edge over the horizon. Daybreak had arrived, bringing an end to the night that brought an end to the night— to our cover of dark.

I picked myself up in a hurry, preparing to run for the trees, when I realized that Karna was not with us. "Where—"

I spun around, and saw he was still up on the walls of the city. His eyes were bridled with rage. His hands were a blur, going back and forth from his bow and quiver in a constant rhythmic motion. He was loosing arrow after arrow while dodging the flurry of projectiles being shot back at him.

What is he doing?! I wanted to scream. I cupped my hands around my mouth to call out to him, when an arrow landed on his shoulder. He stumbled, and at that moment, three bolts of energy struck him on the chest.

The impact knocked Karna backwards, and he fell off the battlements. He landed in front of me with a loud thud as I stared in shock.

"Karna, are you ok?!" It was a stupid question, yet it was the only thing I could say at that moment.

He was unresponsive. He coughed out some blood and groaned in pain, clutching at his chest. His leather armor was ruined, as if three holes were burned through it. I ignored the arrow sticking out of his shoulders, and hefted him around my back.

Ack, heavy. He weighed more than he looked. There was no way I could do a fireman’s carry with him, let alone a bridal one. Luckily, I was not alone.

The other Goblin rushed over, and took Karna by the shoulder. "I’ve got it. Just run!" he yelled at me.

I acquiesced and made a break for it. The Goblin still ran as fast as I did even while carrying Karna with him. The gates of the city opened slowly behind us, as we approached the thicket.

We’re not going to make it. I did not know why I thought of the trees in the distance as some sort of safe space; they were still going to chase after us even when we got there. And with the sun out, it was going to be impossible to escape.

But it was a goal. And it being so close gave me strength. So I ran with all my might.

I heard the sound of horses behind me. They were getting close fast. I spun around to cast a spell== to maybe send a magic missile at them to slow them down— and out from the woods, a dozen arrows shot out.

The horse riders reeled as a few of them were dropped from the sudden projectiles. They raised their shields to cover themselves from the attack, when the first Monster emerged from behind the trees.

A large six legged scaly beast leapt out right next to me. It opened its massive maw and I thought I was going to die. I swung my dagger wildly at it, but the Monster ignored me. It ran straight for the pursuing guards and clashed into them.

"Wha—" My mouth dumbly hung open as I stared in shock. Then I saw more creatures run past me. Unlike the first, these were not Monsters, they were animals.

I saw horses, deers, boars, and even some smaller animals skittering about between them. They fought alongside the Monster, and attacked the horse riders and the other guards that came to support them. They were all different, yet they had one thing in common. One thing I would recognize anywhere.

The stench of death.

They were… undead. Zombies. Ghouls. Dead things that were raised back to life by magic. By Necromancy. And there was only one Necromancer I knew.

"Melas," a deep voice spoke out to me. A massive red man walked out of the woods, and up to me. The Orc placed a hand on my shoulder. "Come. While they’re distracted."

Behind him, I saw Goblins hiding behind the trees, firing a hail of arrows down at the pursuing guards. "I— where did you guys come from?" I asked stupidly.

"I heard that you went with Karna. That was a mistake, Melas. Something could’ve happened to you."

The Orc led me deep into the thicket, until the sounds of fighting were far behind us. We were safe now; I wanted to sigh in relief, but I looked at him worriedly. "Thank you. But— Karna’s hurt. You’ve got to help him."

Gerritt inclined his head to the other Goblin carrying Karna around his back. "Hrmph, I see that. We need to bring him back to the camp quickly. He will die if we don’t get him a healing potion soon."

"Soon? How soon?"

"I’m not sure. His injuries are grievous. Even if we gave him a healing potion right now, I’m not sure if he will survive." The Orc’s voice was steady. His inflections did not change. And yet he stared solemnly as one of his best men bled out.

I felt my hands going for something at my waist. I hesitated. But only for a moment. Then I reached out and pulled the potion from my belt. I held out the vial of glowing red liquid.

"How about this? If I give this potion to Karna, will he live?"

Gerritt raised an eyebrow incredulously.

"Well, yes. That’s an incredibly potent healing potion. But isn’t that for you—"

"Good," I spoke over the Orc.

I marched over to Karna who was being tended to by the Goblin that was carrying him. He was trying to stop the bleeding.

"Excuse me," I said, and uncorked the vial.

"Wait, that’s—"

I ignored him, and started to pour the healing potion onto Karna. I saw the insides of his body slowly mended together. His flesh grew anew, covering the injuries on his chest and shoulder. But I didn’t stop pouring.

I kept pouring the potion and my heart sank as I watched the liquid slowly disappear. But I never stopped until all of Karna’s wounds were gone. Because I knew if they were left half regenerated, they would very easily be torn open again, and he could bleed out. And by the time all his injuries were healed, there was only a tenth of the potion left in the vial.

I poured the remaining drops over on my face, but nothing happened. So much for that. I tossed the bottle aside, and looked back down as I heard a grunt.

"Y-you," Karna whispered. He looked barely conscious, and he struggled to speak. "You... saved me."

Thank you Captain Obvious, the stupid quip crossed my mind, and I sighed. "Yes, I did save you. But I didn’t do it for you. I just saw Sena die, and I didn't like that. So I did this because I’d feel bad if I didn’t."

He stared at me in shock. I bent over him and jabbed a finger at his face.

"However, I still saved your life. So the least you could do is stop being a jerk to me. Got it?"

Karna hesitated, but I loomed over it.

"I said: do you get it?"

"I— uh, yes."

"Good." I grinned. "Now let’s get out of here, I’m hungry."

And my stomach growled in agreement.

Chapter 33: Close-quarters Combat

When we got back, Victor was mad. He was angry. Furious.

He was all of that, and more. To say he was just ‘pissed off’, would be an understatement.

"And what made you think it was a good idea to go with them?!"

I winced, as the Dark Acolyte yelled at me; he was pacing back and forth in the command tent, as I sat on my knees in front of him.

"I-I’m sorry. But that wasn’t supposed to happen!" I protested. "Things were going well! Well— u-until…" I scratched the back of my head and trailed off.

The young man stopped; he folded his arms, and tapped a finger on his elbow impatiently. "Until what?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.

"...until it wasn’t?" I said unconvincingly.

Victor snapped. "Not only could you have gotten yourself killed— which would have put me in a lot of trouble with the Infernalis— but you’ve also compromised our mission!" He took a seat, and began rubbing his temples. "If word gets out— no, when it gets out that there are Dark Crusaders in the area— the Free Cities will be on high alert. They’ll fortify their towns and their forts. We can’t proceed as planned, unless we pick up the pace…"

I felt bad; I honestly did not expect any of this to happen. But as Murphy’s Law goes: anything that can go wrong, will go wrong. I should have known better.

"S-sorry," I said softly. There was nothing else to say; I messed up, and I had to own up to my mistakes.

My apology was met with a glare from the young man. He stood up and sighed, while shaking his head. "I saved your life and this is what I get in return? Trouble? Typical..." he muttered under his breath, then stalked out of the room.

I grimaced, but he was already gone. I exhaled deeply, and turned to the other person in the room; Gerritt was standing behind me, with his hands behind his back.

"You’re not mad at me too, are you?" I asked weakly.

"Hrmph, to answer your question: no, I am not mad at you. But I’d be lying if I said what you did did not cause issues for us," the Orc answered truthfully.

"I know, I know," I said with a sigh. I slowly got to my feet. "I really am sorry too."

He nodded slowly. "Indeed. But there’s no need to be too worried. The worst thing you’ve done is force our timetable forwards."

"But that Goblin— Sena— he’s dead because of me. I got him killed for nothing."

I glumly looked down at the palm of my hands as I said that; it was stupid, but it almost felt like I killed him with my own two hands. Intuitively, I knew that was not the case— but I just felt that way.

"Don’t be foolish, Melas." Gerritt placed his massive red hand on my shoulder. "I heard about what happened. Sena made a mistake. It was because of him, the alarm was raised. Whether or not you were there would not have changed that fact. And, if you were not there, Karna would not be alive right now too. He said it himself."

"He did?" I blinked. That did not sound like him; I had expected him to blame me for his comrade’s death.

"Yes. He says it was his fault that you came along. Because he made you do it."

"Oh,"— I shuffled my feet— "but he didn’t make me do anything. I decided to go by myself.".

"Maybe. However, what is done is done. All that’s left now is to make sure we are not pursued. And we proceed with our goal."

"I guess you’re right," I relented. Then I stared at the Orc curiously. "If you don’t mind me asking: what exactly is your guys’ goal here?"

"Our goal?" Gerritt inclined his head to the side.

"Yes," I said. "Your mission. What are you guys— or the Dark Crusaders— trying to do?"

He raised an arm and began stroking his large jaw contemplatively. "If you’re asking about what… we’re specifically trying to accomplish here. Then the answer is complicated. But it’s all because of our main goal. It’s a simple one, really. It’s the reason why the Dark Crusaders were created in the first place."

"And that is?"

"We want justice," he said simply. "To spread the truth to the world. For all to see that magic is not inherently evil— that it does not go against the will of the Goddess. She gave us magic to use, not to abstain from. That the Holy Xan Empire— and those that came before them— lied to the world, simply because they were afraid of magic. Afraid of us."

"I see…"

I remembered my mom telling me something like that, from when she briefly spoke about the Shadow’s Evangelium— her group that came before the Dark Crusaders. She said that they believed that the Goddess was not the Goddess of Light, but the Goddess of Darkness.

The Goddess might have created light and life, but she also brought the night to end the day, and death to end life. Darkness was not evil, but simply a part of the world like everything else, just like Monsters and magic.

When I asked my mom if that was true, she refused to give me a definitive answer. She simply told me that that was what the Shadow’s Evangelium believed back when she used to work for them— back when they were still around. Now, listening to the way Gerrit spoke, it appeared to me that the Dark Crusaders believed in the same thing. I averted my gaze from him slightly.

"And how will us being here help that?" I asked. "Will you… destroy their cities? Or just occupy them with your armies? Because I don’t think doing either of those here helps, since the Holy Xan Empire is in another continent, and they’re the ones in charge of the Church."

"Hrmph, of course not. No, it won’t help at all. Mindless destruction would not support our cause at all. But neither does self destructive peace. We’ve learned from our predecessors. We will simply do what is necessary to perpetuate our survival."

The Dark Commander strode over to the map laid open on the table. He pointed at a spot on the map, as I tiptoed to see it.

"At the mouth of this valley here, lies a fortress called Fort Conon. It belongs to the Chalstics Confederacy, and it holds a strategic position, serving as an entryway into the ‘country’. Unlike the other Free Cities, the cities in the Chalstics are united, and as such, merchants, travellers, or— because of recent events— refugees, will have to cross through this checkpoint and pay a toll if they want to enter the region."

"And what are you guys going to do?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Raid their armory for weapons? Steal their gold?"

"We are going to take it," he said, voice steadfast.

"Take it? But why?" It was a stupid question; the answer was obvious, but I still felt the need to ask it.

"For supplies. We will take whatever weaponry and armor from soldiers in the fort. We will take the gold and cargo from anyone passing through. And because of the valley separating us and the rest of the Chalstics, it will be weeks before any reinforcements are sent to take back the fort. And by the time that happens, we will be gone."

"But that’s… stealing," "I stated the obvious. "You’ll be robbing those innocent people!"

"Yes." Gerrit nodded. "But we will not be killing them. Not unless it’s necessary."

I wanted to object to this. Stealing is wrong! I thought to myself.

And yet, I stole from that Alchemist just last night. I stole from that fruit vendor weeks ago. But I did it to survive! I tried to argue with myself, but the same thing could be said for the Dark Crusaders.

"But… why do you need their gold?" I asked weakly. "Why do you need to take their… livelihood."

"For the same reason they, themselves, need it. We, too, need money to survive. We need the funding. The equipment. And the supplies. Even though we’re recognized as a terrorist organization by the Church, that does not mean everyone shuns us. As you said, the Holy Xan Empire is in another continent. Plus, the fact that gangs and other criminal groups exist proves not everyone follows the law. That includes countries, companies, and influential people. That is why we need the money— to gain allies."

"I… but—" There were many things I wanted to say. But I said none of it. And yet, Gerritt read it all from my expression.

"I’m sorry, Melas," he apologized gently. He met my eyes slowly and held my gaze. "But the world is cruel. I know you understand this as much as anyone else. If it wasn’t cruel, the Dark Crusaders wouldn’t even need to exist. And neither would you be here right now.

"But we do exist, and you’re here too. So we have to do what we must: to protect people like you. Even if we don’t like it, even if we must compromise our personal values. We have to do what is necessary."

I understood what he was saying— I even knew it was true. Slowly, gently, he took my hand and led me out of the tent.

"But please do not concern yourself with this. You are but a child. Come, there is food waiting for you outside."

And I followed him, but I was not hungry anymore.

Ok, I lied.

I was still incredibly hungry. Ravenously so. Food was good, and I liked food. So I ate a lot of food.

"Meat! Actual meat! And it’s even seasoned!"

I devoured the deer leg like an animal. I quickly went through everything but the bone, and moved on to the fruits on the side. I did not dislike fruits and veggies— in fact, I’d say I liked them. But it had been such a long time since I ate meat with any actual flavor, and it tasted so good!

So I finished the meal, and almost let out a loud burp. I caught myself, of course. I had manners. Both from my previous life, and from my mom who taught me how to behave like a proper lady. I’m a Duke’s daughter’s daughter after all! I lied to myself.

I got up, and looked around the camp. We were already packing up; we were leaving in about an hour, since we were trying to get to Fort Conon as soon as possible now, so we were taking a forced march.

I did not have to do anything; Gerritt forbade me from even leaving the camp after what happened. I reached for my satchel, rummaging through it for a book to read. I felt the touch of something leathery, and grabbed for it, thinking it was one of the grimoires Victor gave me—

And I pulled out a sheathed dagger.

I stared at the weapon on my hand. This is… Karna’s dagger. I forgot he gave it to me earlier. I kept it in my bag once we escaped, but I still had it.

I pulled it out of its case.

It was not an ornate dagger, but it looked elegant nonetheless. It was light gray in color, with a bronze hilt and crossguard. The blade was over a foot long, curving slightly back from the center onwards. It was finely crafted— and, according to Karna, it had some sort of sharpness enchantment on it. I wanted to test it out, so I picked up the remaining bone from my meal, and gently pushed into it.

I watched in awe as the dagger sunk into the bone with little effort. That was sharp. It was not like cutting through butter with a hot knife, but it certainly was comparable. I… did not feel safe using it, so I cautiously placed it back inside its sheathe. Don’t want to lose a thumb or something.

Plus, it was not mine. Karna lent it to me, however I doubted he meant to give it to me permanently. So I grabbed the dagger in its case, hefted my bag around my shoulders, and searched for the Goblin.

I already had a reason to see him in the first place. I had to thank him for sticking up for me— for what he told Gerritt. That was nice of him. I might as well have accomplished two things at once.

I was directed to his tent after a couple of minutes; it did not take long to get there, since the camp was pretty small. I was about to enter it, when the flaps opened up, and someone exited it.

He was a Goblin, of course. I recognized him. He was the other one with us last night— the one who waited for me when we first left the camp.

"Hey, uh… Ibsum?" I guessed

"Close. But, no." The Goblin grinned at me. "Want to give it another try?"

"Oh, um… I don’t know? Sorry, I never got your name." I waved my hand apologetically.

The Goblin looked at me, offended. "What? Even after all we went through last night? I’m hurt. Hurt!" He placed a hand on his chest exaggeratedly, and turned his head away from me; but I caught him giving him peeking over at me a few times. I just stared at him.

"Aw, no reaction?" he said, dejected. "Come on, not even a little smirk?"

"That was a joke?" I asked, straightfaced. This time, he actually looked hurt by that quip. I felt myself smiling a bit as I quickly reassured him. "I’m kidding! It was amusing. And I totally did not expect that from... anyone here."

The Goblin’s face did a 180 as he brightened up. "Did not expect what? A sense of humor? Of course not— most everyone here are stuckups." He put a hand out and smiled. "The name’s Ihsan."

I took his hand. "Melas."

"Did I do that right?" he asked, letting go of my hand. "It’s a Human’s greeting— one which I’m not used to. Us Goblins are much more formal than that. Which makes a lot of these assholes like Karna so uptight."

"Uh…"

"I’m kidding, obviously," Ihsan said with a wink. "So did you need something?"

"Yes. Is Karna inside?" I gestured at the tent. "I was hoping to return this to him. He gave it to me last night." I lifted up the dagger slightly.

"Last night, huh? Holy Hell, that was a mess. I still can’t believe we got out of there. Sure, he’s inside. But not in a good mood— which means he’s his usual irate self."

"Can I come in?" I asked politely.

"Go ahead. But I’m not going in with you. He’s probably heard me badmouthing him for the last five minutes." Ihsan shook his head. "If he sees me, he’ll probably take that dagger and stab me with it."

I smiled slightly at the joke. He backed up, and started walking away from the tent.

"Well then, it was a pleasure to finally meet you, Melas."

"Likewise."

"See ya around. And try not to get stabbed." He waved goodbye, and headed off.

I entered the tent, and found who I was looking for. I stood at the entrance, as Karna barely glanced up at me. "May I come in?"

He responded with a grunt, which I assumed meant ‘yes’; he was sitting on his bedroll, and I walked into the room and stopped a few feet in front of him.

"...what do you want?" he asked briskly.

"I just wanted to check up on you. See how you’re doing. Are you… feeling ok?" I awkwardly motioned at his chest. "Any problems or anything?"

He nodded stiffly. "No problems. The healing potion closed all my wounds, and healed everything both internally, and on the outside."

"That’s good," I stated the obvious.

He nodded again in response, and we stood there awkwardly for a few seconds before we both spoke up at the same time.

"Hey, this is—"

"I don’t have to—"

We both paused, and he shifted in his seat. He opened and closed his mouth a few times, uncertain whether he should speak first.

"Go ahead. You first," I quickly said.

Karna paused for a second, then muttered under his breath. "I’m completely fine. I don’t actually have to rest. The Commander is making me do this, because he’s afraid overexerting myself would reopen the injuries. But as I said, the potion was incredibly potent. So that won’t happen."

I could not tell if he was trying to act tough or if he actually believed that; I barely knew him, but he seemed quite proud of himself from what I had seen so far. I tried not to furrow my brows. "How do you know that?"

The Goblin raised a hand to his chest, and pulled down his shirt slightly. He touched just to the right of where I assumed his heart was.

"The first bolt barely missed my heart. Right in the center of my chest. The second, punctured my lungs. I couldn’t breathe, and I was bleeding out. I wasn’t just dying, I was on the cusp of death. The third should’ve left me for dead, yet the potion brought me back. That’s how I know I’m fine. Because if anything was wrong, I’d be dead right now."

"That makes sense."

"Plus," he said, as he poked his chest. "The flesh here isn’t soft, see? Regular healing potions would leave your skin weak and frail for a day or two. But here it’s like nothing ever even happened."

I watched as he switched from a finger, to thumping his chest with a fist. There was a solid noise as he impacted himself; probably due to the Goblin’s rougher skin. I smiled slightly, as Karna turned back to me.

"...thank you."

I blinked. "What?"

"I said thank you," he spoke softly. His gaze swept over to the left side of my face. "For saving my life. Even after the way I treated you. I haven't thanked you for it."

"Oh,"— I twirled my hair uncomfortably— "it’s no problem at all. I mean, I should thank you as well. I heard what you told Gerritt. You saved me from getting scolded more." I tried to change the subject.

"I did nothing but speak the truth."

"Well, the truth really helps sometimes."

The Goblin nodded in agreement. Then there was another moment of silence with him glancing at the symbol on my eye. It made me want to touch it.

I saw a reflection of myself earlier; the few drops of healing potion was not completely ineffective. It did not entirely remove the mark from my face like I hoped it would, but it did make it seem more translucent. However, it was still visible to the naked eye.

I fought against the feeling. And instead, I reached for my belt.

"Here. This is yours, right?" I held out the sheathed dagger to him. "Thanks for lending it to me."

He eyed the dagger with his luminescent gaze, then shrugged. "Keep it. I don’t need it," he said.

"Are you sure?" I asked, lifting a brow.

"Yes. You don’t have a weapon, right? It’s yours."

"But I don’t know how to use it," I insisted.

Karna sighed, then rose to his feet. He reached for the dagger on my outstretched hand—

Then pushed it back to my chest.

"If you don’t know how to use a dagger, then you just have to learn. Come,"— the Goblin strode past me, out of the tent— "I’ll teach you."

"Wait, really?"

"Yes. I am indebted to you. And, I’m tired of sitting around doing nothing. Now follow me."

I obliged.

Karna led me out of the tent, and into an open area. We were still inside of the camp, but there was a small clearing that was mostly flat which I found myself in. He turned around and faced me.

"Show me what you’ve got. Try and hit me with your dagger," he ordered.

I narrowed my eyes. "You want me to use this"— I waved the dagger up— "to attack you?"

He grunted in affirmation. "Yes."

"Isn’t that dangerous? Can’t I… hurt you?"

"You can. But that won’t happen." The Goblin flashed his teeth at me, grinning confidently.

"If you say so," I said uncertainly.

I drew the dagger, and charged at Karna. He was just standing still. I raised my hand up in the air, slashing sideways—

And I found myself on the ground, hands held behind my back, and the flat of my blade pressed on against my neck.

"W-what happened?"

The Goblin let go of me, and I sprawled myself onto the ground. "You were too slow. Swung too wide. Lots of opening in your attack. Easy to see how to dodge— easy to see how to counter."

I flopped over to my back, staring up at him, slowly registering his words. "H-huh?"

He was tossing the gray blade up in the air casually; he caught it, sheathed it in its case, then sighed. "Let’s start with the basics. Firstly, you’re overextending when you swing. Your feet and your arms have to stay connected. Move in one swift motion, like this."

Karna demonstrated a simple stab. He thrusted the dagger forward, taking a step as he did. He did it slowly, and a little bit exaggeratedly; but that was so I could see what he was doing. "Now you try," he said, as he handed me the dagger hilt first.

"Like this?" I tried copying what he did.

"No. Your body is too stiff. You need to be more loose. Like so."

"How about this?"

"That’s not loose. That’s lazy. Try again."

"This?" I looked at the Goblin hopefully.

He raised a palm to his forehead, and exhaled deeply.

"This is going to be a long day."

After an hour, I was bent over, hands on my knees, gasping and panting for air. But it was not over.

"Again. Try and hit me."

My gaze flickered up to the Goblin standing before me. I straightened, raised both hands up, and slowly started circling him. He stood there, unmoving. Once I was behind him, I took a step forward, and stabbed.

Karna moved his head to the side easily, dodging the attack. He twirled around to face me, as I sidestepped around him. I swung at his neck, his arms, his chest—

And he evaded it all. He backed up slowly, ducking his head, bobbing and weaving, skirting past the constant assault as the gray edge narrowly missed him each time.

It wasn’t like I was almost hitting him. That was far from the truth. The Goblin was waiting till the very last moment to dodge the attack because it was that easy for him.

Which was frustrating for me.

I loaded up a swing, and slashed diagonally at Karna. His eyes flashed. He saw me pulling back before the attack, dragging my feet forward. He went under the swing.

In one swift motion, he moved laterally around me, and found my back. I spun the dagger around in my hand, reversing the grip. I pulled back, stabbing at his face.

Karna just leaned back slightly, letting the dagger narrowly miss him once again. Then he headbutted me.

"Ouch!" I yelped as I fell on my knees. "That hurts!"

"That’s the point," he said. "You made another mistake."

"Really? I thought I was doing so well this time. Especially towards the end."

"Redirecting your momentum and switching grips to quickly attack me when I went behind you was indeed commendable. However, it should not have been necessary. Your mistake came just before that. You got annoyed that you couldn’t hit me, and you overstepped. You put too much weight into your swing, allowing me to get past your guard and into a blind spot."

I frowned. "But that’s just one mistake!"

"And one mistake could cost you your life, Melas," Karna replied instantly. "You want to be able to defend yourself, don’t you?"

"But— I mean…" I sighed, because I knew he was telling the truth. "Yeah, you’re right. I do."

The Goblin eyed my disheartened expression uneasily. He took a deep breath, then continued. "However, it’s been an hour. I am sure your exhaustion from doing this— and from last night— probably factored into your sloppiness."

"S-sloppy?! Come on, I’m not that bad at this... am I?"

"You are… not bad." I brightened up briefly, before being shut down by what he said next. "I think."

"You think? What does that mean?!"

Karna shrugged. "For a Goblin at your age, you’re absolutely terrible. However, you’re a Human child. I assume what you’ve shown me is considered good for one of those."

I stared at him aghast. "So if someone attacks me, and I’m forced to fight them off with what I’ve shown you, what happens then?"

"They’ll kill you, of course," he answered honestly. "Any trained fighter— or maybe even an untrained fighter— would be able to take you on without a problem. You’re too slow. Too physically weak to put up a fight."

"Then what was the point of doing all this?" I groaned.

The Goblin’s forehead creased at the comment, and he folded his arms. "Are you saying this was pointless?"

"W-well, no. I’m just saying that if I’m too weak and slow to do anything, how can this help me?"

"It helps for later. For when you grow up. Just because you’re a child now, does not mean you’ll forever be one. You’ll grow stronger one day. Learning this now just prepares you for then. And even if you’re— for some reason— physically incapable as an adult, there’s always body enhancement magic."

I took a second to register what he said. "You mean Shamanism?"

"That is not the only school of magic that focuses on that. But yes. Shamanism is one such example."

I stirred at that. I am good at magic— the best in the world, even!

"So if I learn this type of magic, I can make myself stronger?" I asked excitedly.

"Yes. And it is in fact far more beneficial for you, at your age. Making yourself as strong as an adult as a child is much easier than making yourself stronger than one once you’re an adult. Doing both may alter your body so you can exceed your limit, but the spell required to do the former is much simpler than the latter."

I eagerly roused to my feet. "Wait, so there’s this Dark Acolyte coming who can heal me—"

"Jasmin the Voodoo."

"Yeah, that person," I nodded excitedly. "If they’re here, can I also ask them to help make me stronger, faster, and whatever? Since it’s easy."

Karna scratched his head in thought. "If she is willing to come all the way to us just to heal you, then probably yes."

I felt my lips curling up into a smile. If I can protect myself, I don’t have to worry so much anymore! The happy thought crossed my mind, but was interrupted by a shout.

"Yo, Karna. Melas. We’re leaving soon. Come on, stop standing around."

Ihsan was yelling at us from the side. Most of the camp was cleared out, and everyone was getting ready to leave.

"Coming!" I called back to him.

Karna was already walking towards the rest of the camp. I stepped up right next to him and we walked in silence for a bit.

After a minute, I finally broke the silence. "Thanks. For teaching me."

He continued facing forward as he replied. "It’s nothing. I simply owed you."

"Well, not really. You already paid me back by not being a jerk anymore. That’s what I told you, remember?"

The Goblin gave me a grunt, which I was not really sure how to interpret; I remained silent, before he finally spoke up.

"...if you want, I can continue training you."

I raised my eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yes." He turned to me slightly. "It won’t help you much right now, but it will still help you a little bit. Although I do believe it would be better for you to learn some sort of defensive magic— like a barrier spell— to protect you if anyone gets close. You should only ever have to pull out your dagger as a last resort."

Karna continued talking, as I slowly trailed behind him. I looked heavenward— at the blue sky overhead and at the white clouds that partially obscured the sun for that briefest of moments.

Things are finally starting to get better. I smiled.

Hopefully it stayed that way.

Chapter 34: Choices, Choices, Choices

For the next few days, I spent most of my time studying magic and training with Karna. Not only did he teach me how to fight with a dagger in close-quarters combat, he also gave me practical tips on casting spells in a combat situation.

The scenarios would vary, but he typically would have me use every tool in my disposal to fend him off and escape his attacks. He would not go easy on me; he would scale his efforts of trying to catch me with how well I was doing that day.

And today, I was doing quite well.

I felt my feet burning as I weaved my way through the trees. I could see the camp in the distance— its palisades visible through the thicket. Almost there, I thought to myself.

I heard the sound of the leaves crinkling with each of my steps. A fallen twig snapped in half as I ran over it. There was no subtlety to this: I was simply trying to escape.

But it came.

It was a faint sound at first— not of footsteps catching up to me, but the whirling of something flying through the air.

I dodged to the side, as the projectile whizzed past my shoulder. I kept up the pace, but I heard more arrows being loosed in my direction. I spun around. I saw the volley of arrows coming at me. There were too many to dodge! I was going to get hit—

The sound of wood snapping filled my ears.

I watched as the blunt wooden arrows smashed into the barrier. It was a large translucent rectangle of energy with an outwards curve that hovered in front of me, deflecting the attack. A small magic circle was glowing in its center, as if it were holding the blue shield together.

I let the spell dissipate and the mana circle disappeared. I held the spell at the tip of my fingers— I was prepared to cast it, waiting for the followup attacks to come.

My gaze swept around the forest. Where is he? I narrowed my eyes.

I saw a flicker in my peripheral vision. I stepped back, barely dodging the arrow as it landed right at my feet. I instantly fired a Magic Bolt in the direction it came from, but the figure was gone.

I stood on guard, amongst the trees. It was noon, yet shadows moved around me. I waited. And finally, he came.

Out of the thicket and bushes, Karna dashed out at an inhuman speed. I backed up, magic circles forming on both my hands. I only managed to throw another three Magic Bolts at him before he closed the distance. He reached for me, but I raised my other hand.

My second spell went off. A horizontal line of crackling energy swept at him. He’s going to get hit!

The brief glimmer of hope I felt immediately went away as the Goblin sidestepped under it. The snare wrapped around itself like a magical bolas that caught nothing, falling to the ground in a limp roll.

Karna charged me once more, and I found my back against a tree. I cast the Force Barrier again, unable to do anything else. He tried to go around it, but I kept the magical shield facing him.

I watched the Goblin draw an arrow from his back. In an instant, a magic circle went over the projectile, enchanting it with sharpness to increase its damage. He jammed it at my barrier with his full strength, and I saw cracks form on the translucent surface. I unsheathed my dagger from my sides, and gripped it tightly behind my back as I watched him slowly break my last line of defense.

He struck the barrier two more times before it shattered completely. And at that moment, I rushed at him. I swung sideways at his chest, running forwards as I went. He skirted just past the blade, narrowly dodging it like he always did. He readied himself for my next strike—

But I continued running.

I ignored him completely. There was no way I was going to beat him in a fight, so I made a mad dash for the camp. It was a brilliant strategy! There was no way it could fail!

He caught me after a few seconds.

"Nice try, but you can’t outrun me either," Karna commented dryly.

"I know," I sighed, as I lay panting on the floor. "But I had to try, right? I’m supposed to escape, not fight, after all."

He grunted in affirmation. "You did well today. You caught me completely off guard with that snare spell, and nearly made it to the camp. Good job." He offered me a hand, and I accepted it.

"Thanks," I said, smiling slightly. "I learnt it just this morning. I was hoping to catch you off guard, but you’re just too… fast."

"Another new spell?" Karna considered this. "It would take me at least a week to learn a spell like that, let alone master it. It has been less than a month since you started training as a spellcaster, but you’ve already learned over half a dozen spells. Your magical proficiency is... I’ve never seen anything like it."

I ducked my head down shyly. "Oh, well. I mean, I wouldn’t say I’ve mastered these spells. And it’s not really, uh, you know…" I trailed off as we walked towards the camp.

"‘It’s not what?" The Goblin turned to me with a frown. "What you’ve done is truly impressive. To say otherwise is an insult to everyone below you."

"That’s not what I’m saying!" I protested.

"Then what are you saying?" His large yellow eyes bore into me. I hesitated. We stood at the entrance of the camp for a moment, a slight tension in the air.

And I was saved by a voice coming from the side.

"I think she’s just being modest, Karna. Come on, don’t needa take things so seriously."

Ihsan strolled over to us, hands raised behind his head. Karna opened his mouth to respond, but the other Goblin just spoke over him.

"And before you lecture me on why being humble is a sign of weakness— just don’t. The Commander is looking for you."

Karna sighed. "Where is he?" he asked.

"Usual place. With the Dark Acolyte. I think it’s important."

"Of course it’s important, fool. They wouldn’t summon me over something trivial."

"How about me?" I piped up from the side. "Are they looking for me?"

"Nope," Ihsan answered. "They didn’t ask for you. Just Karna."

I closed my eyes slowly, and exhaled. To be honest, I expected that; I hadn't spoken with Victor since he scolded me a week ago. Gerritt told me that he was apparently still unhappy over what happened, which only made me feel bad.

I wanted to speak with him— to make it up to him. But I wasn’t sure how he would react. I did not know what to do, I just knew that I had to speak to him soon before things got worse.

I resolved myself on that, and opened my eyes. Karna was already gone, but Ihsan was still there. He grinned.

"How’d training go? I only saw the end, but you made it so close to camp. I thought you had it!"

"I thought so too," I said, nodding. "But Karna is too fast. And he’s going easy on me. I probably never had a chance."

"Karna doesn’t go easy on anybody— he’s a show off! Sure, he’s talented and he totally deserves to act like that." Ihsan waved his hand dismissively. "But a show off is still a show off! So don’t be so hard on yourself. You did great."

"No— I mean, I could’ve done better…"

He nodded in agreement. "Anyone could always do better. And it’s good that you want to be better. But just so you know, never reject a compliment from a Goblin. It’s considered rude."

"Really? I’m sorry— I didn’t mean to offend you."

"Yes. Goblin society is based on respect and power. But there’s no need to apologize to me. I’m fine with it, since I grew up with Dwarves. ‘Tis just some general advice." Ihsan gave me a cool shrug.

"Oh, thanks." I bowed my head slightly. Then I paused. "Wait you grew up with Dwarves?"

"Yep. Born and raised in Taw."

That surprised me. The Taw Kingdom was allied with the Holy Xan Empire— they even supported the Empire during the Free Wars! If Ihsan really grew up there, why was he a Dark Crusader now?

He grinned. "I know what you’re thinking. ‘Why did you join the Dark Crusaders, if you grew up in Taw?’ Well, the answer is simple: money."

"What?" I stared blankly at him.

"You heard me right. I joined them for the money." The Goblin gestured to a pouch on his side. "I know it’s not some grand reasoning. But cut me some slack. I grew up poor in a big city, and wasn’t always treated fairly just because I was a Goblin. So I turned to crime to survive.

"So I joined some small gang, but it got busted. Found a bigger gang— got kicked out. And that was around the time I heard about the Dark Crusaders. I talked to some shady people, learned some magic, and somehow found myself here."

"But… couldn’t you have done something else? If you just need money— to survive— can’t you… find a job?" I asked stupidly.

"Not really, no. The only thing I’m slightly good at doing is fighting. I could try becoming a Hunter or a Mercenary, but as I said, very few people would hire me because, y’know." He shot a thumb back to himself, and I grimaced at the implication. "Plus, I’ve got what I want here. Food to eat, a bed to sleep, and money to spend. Well, I can’t really spend money here. Got to be careful in the Free Lands. Someone might try and capture me into…"

"Slavery." I felt an itch right next to my eye, as I finished his sentence for him.

His gaze slowly slid off my face. "Yeah..." he trailed off.

I ignored that.

"So, you can actually go out and spend money? And you’ve done this before, outside of the Free Lands? Despite siding with the Demons during the Holy Wars."

"Of course. And we didn’t side with anybody. No Goblin alive today was alive back then. And half of us here on this continent come from families that left Hell even before the Holy Xan Empire existed. Sure, the other half ran here seeking refuge after the Demon Lord was killed a hundred years ago, and that does make other species’ hate us. But if someone in this continent stabs us while we’re out and about— and that does happen more than we would like— they’ll still get thrown to jail. Well, they’ll get thrown to jail most of the time. But we’re Goblins. Just another species, and not... pests."

"I didn’t mean that. I just thought… since you’re a Dark Crusader..." I fidgeted on my feet.

Ihsan gave me a blank look. "...just because I’m a Dark Crusader doesn’t mean I carry around a sign saying that I am one."

"It’s just… the cave, you know?"

I did not know. But I was hoping he knew.

"We’ve only been in the Free Lands for less than a year. That cave you were in for over a week? Three months," Ihsan explained. "We tend to keep mobile. Take advantage of the disunity of the Free Cities. And escape into hiding if things go bad. Sort of like bandits or pirates, except we don’t just enrich ourselves or cause chaos. We further our agenda by listening to what the Infernalis tells us to do— kind of like rebels, if you will— which are sometimes vague directions, and other times specific orders, like what we’re doing now."

"I knew the second part. But the first is… I didn’t think you guys were pests. I just never really thought about it."

"Don’t worry," he chuckled. "Your questions were pretty amusing. I guess you thought being a Dark Crusader was a lot more formal than that, huh? Well, it kinda is formal. But we’re not a country or an army. We’re a lot more decentralized than that."

"And that lets you go out and buy stuff that you want, right?"

"Yep. And enjoy ourselves too." He stared off into the distance, as if he were reminiscing. "As long as we’re smart with it. If I go into a city full of Humans, and they know about Dark Crusaders in the area, obviously I’ll be taken in for questioning. So I usually go out in a disguise or something. Unless we were being covert like when we were at the cave, there’s really no problem with going out and about."

He gestured vaguely in the direction that we came from.

"Anyways, that’s enough about that. Too much serious talk bores me. Let’s talk about how you duped Karna. That last part where you feinted an attack into a run— you should’ve seen the look on his face!"

"That’s the only way I can catch him off guard. I can’t land a hit on him, he’s too fast!"

"Maybe try hitting him when he’s standing still?"

I rolled my eyes. "Good idea! Next time I’ll only swing at someone who can’t move. That’ll surely work!" I said, feigning excitement at his suggestion.

He laughed, and I snorted. We continued talking for a bit— ust chatting and quipping— but the thought stayed in my mind.

Ihsan gave me his reasoning. He told me why he wanted to be a Dark Crusader.

And I thought about myself.

What do I want to do?

After three more days of travelling, we finally arrived. We were not exactly at Fort Conon just yet; we were a few miles away from it, setting up camp.

Karna left two days earlier with a small party to scout out the area, and returned yesterday. There was some discussion on what to do: the strategies and tactics on how we would be taking the fort.

Apparently we were outnumbered by over two-to-one. There were more soldiers than was expected, which was an issue— not because Gerritt thought we could not win since he thought we would win pretty easily— but because we were trying to win as quickly as possible while incurring as few casualties as possible. It was not the biggest dilemma, but it was a dilemma nonetheless.

Because of this, no one could train me. I had to practice my magic mostly by myself. Ihsan sometimes tried to help, but he was not that good when it came to magic. Most of the time, I ended up having to teach him!

He was trying to learn how to enchant his arrows with the explosion spell. The same one Karna demonstrated two weeks ago when we were still at the cave.

Unfortunately, I owned no books on Enchantment magic, so I did not really know how that type of magic worked. All I could give him was vague advice, which probably did not help him that much.

Anyways, I learned another new spell during that time. It was a basic fire spell: Fire Arrow. It was as effective as a Firebolt in terms of firepower (no pun intended) from what I tested out, with the only only difference being that it flew much slower through the air. However, unlike Firebolt— which I could only cast one at a time— I could summon a hail of Fire Arrows at once.

I wanted to show it to Karna or Gerritt, so I waited outside the command tent for them as I flipped through the pages of the book on Pyromancy I was currently reading. They were having a meeting, planning what to do once tomorrow came. After a while, the flaps flew open—

And I saw Victor step out of the tent.

The young man paused when he saw me. I did too. But after a moment’s hesitation, I spoke up.

"Victor, i-it’s been a while. Is everything going ok in there?"

"Yes," he replied briskly. "Do you want something? I’m busy."

"No—"

"Good," he interrupted me. He began to walk past me. "I assumed you wanted to trouble me with something. But since you’re not, I have things to do. Now if you’ll excuse me."

"Wait, trouble you? Why would I want to do that?" I asked, incredulous.

"Because that’s all you’ve done since you’ve come here, no?" He tilted his head to the side as his gaze bore into me. He began listing things out. "From saving your life; to giving you my books and teaching you; to cleaning up after the problems you caused. You’ve been nothing but trouble. Which, I will tolerate of course. You are the Fiend’s daughter, and a child. Those factors, and my kindness, does implore me to accommodate you."

"W-what does that mean?" I sputtered out.

"Fickle. Females and children tend to be as such— I would know. Thus, it was to be expected. Only on the rare occasion does it not hold true, like with your mother. I expected you to be the same, but… perhaps when you’re older."

"That—" I bit my tongue. I did not want to argue with Victor over that comment; this was my chance to reconcile with him after having not spoken to him in over a week. And… maybe he’s right? About me, at least.

He saved my life, and did all those things for me. I should be more grateful, right? A relationship should be give-and-take, not take-and-take.

"I’m sorry," I spoke softly. "Please, is there anything I can do to make it up to you?"

The young man parroted me. "Make it up to me?" His mouth twitched.

"Yes. I am truly sorry. And I want to prove it." I took a deep breath, and repeated myself. "Let me prove it."

"If you want to… make it up... to me." He paused. Victor turned around slowly, facing his back towards me. Then he continued. "Well, there is nothing for you to do. Everything I’ve done for you, I did it out of my own goodwill. However, if you do insist." He did not turn back to me, instead choosing to remain facing forward away from me. "Two days," he said.

"Two days?"

"Yes." He nodded. "In two days, we will be taking Fort Conon. There have been some complications. Nothing we can’t deal with. But certainly it would be appreciated if there was something to counter those complications. A blessing, if you will."

"You want me to fight with you guys?" I asked, taking a step back.

"Ah, no. Not fight." The Dark Acolyte turned around, face neutral. "Simply aiding us in any way you can. You do want to make it up to me, right?" He cocked a brow.

I hesitated. I was not sure what to say. At least, not yet. And he must have noticed it.

"I’ll give you some time to think about it. But give me an answer by tomorrow. If you sincerely do want to make it up to me. Well, it does not matter to me, of course. It is up to you," he said, voice indifferent.

His mouth twitched. And he walked away.

I took a deep breath, and slumped my shoulders. Tomorrow, huh?

That was a lot of time to think; at least, for most things. But this felt like a life changing decision.

If I fought in Fort Conon, I would pretty much be a Dark Crusader at that point. It was different from fighting for myself, like the last two times I fought with them.

I did not want to… be a terrorist. It’s wrong! But were they really terrorists? Zealot was the term Victor used. Ihsan likened it to bandits with a cause. A form of rebellion. With Gerrit believing that that cause was justice itself— the very will of the Goddess.

Yet, I did not care about the Goddess. I met a god once, and he was a jerk! But that was just the one. This goddess might be a good one for all you know. And you don’t even know if he was even a god!

I exhaled. This is what happens when you’re stressed. You start thinking in second person! And I really was stressed.

But this was a choice I had to make. I was an adult. Not physically, but mentally. I did not want to fight, because I was scared of… killing.

I remembered seeing death; from the one person in this world I loved, to many people I hated. I did not like it. Any of it.

I wanted to exact my revenge on those that have wronged me— and somewhere deep inside, I still felt some of that desire burning inside of me. But when I saw death, I…

I bit my tongue. I do not know.

Could I go my entire life, hunted down by the Church and running from that false god, without killing anyone? The answer was obvious: that was not possible.

Killing had to be necessary, to a certain extent. If my mother never killed those Inquisitors, I never would have survived. If Rin, Shang, and the Beastkin, never killed the slavers, I never would have escaped.

If Victor, Karna, and Gerritt, did not kill all of those city guards, would I be standing here right now? Were they in the wrong for what they did?

I knew the answer to all those questions. And yet—

Yet...

I still don't know.

I put off those difficult thoughts by showing Gerritt and Karna the new spell I learned. They were impressed. They told me that I should be a Pyromancer or a Thaumaturge considering my current skill set.

That made sense for most people, yet I wasn’t sure if specializing was a good idea for me. I did not know the limits that came with being born as the greatest spellcaster in the world, but I remembered seeing my mom cast all kinds of spells. Surely I could at least do that much if I continued training.

I did not say any of that. That would have been too much to explain. So instead, I politely told them I would consider their suggestions, while knowing that was not going to happen.

I kept avoiding thinking about what Victor said, and before I knew it, it was already night. Only a few campfires were set up since we were trying to remain discreet. I just finished my dinner (I ate a lot as usual) and was staring into the flames, still faced with an impasse.

That was when Karna found me.

"Hey, Karna," I greeted him.

He gave me a grunt, acknowledging my existence. But sat down next to me without a word.

I was not affronted by that. Since I got to know him, I learned that that was how he normally was, even when being nice. Karna was pretty awkward and unsociable. A man of few words. He preferred action, rather than talking.

I assume that was why he disliked me initially: because I did nothing he deemed productive. Studying barely qualified as such to him; and although I disagreed with that sentiment, I could see where he was coming from.

We sat there in silence for a while, before finally, the Goblin spoke up.

"We’ll be taking Fort Conon in two days. At midnight."

"Mhm."

I already knew that; Victor told me that earlier. But I could tell Karna was going somewhere with this.

"It’s a big mission. Important," he stated the obvious.

"I heard."

"And I was put in a leadership position. In charge of a quarter of our forces. Two dozen men."

I blinked. "What? I— that’s…" I looked at him in surprise. Then I gathered myself. "Congratulations. That’s a big role!"

"Yes," he said, voice revealing not a hint of my excitement.

I examined his face, then I realized. "Is this your first time… doing something like this?"

"Yes," Karna sighed. "I’ve been a leader before. But only in small missions, like stealing, scouting, and other simple tasks. This is the first time I’ll be leading an important mission. And more than that, this is my first time even being in something this important."

That was right. Karna was still young for a Goblin. He was barely an adult. Only 13 years old. If he was a Human, he would be… 21 years old?

The comparison was not exact, but it gave a good idea of how young he actually was. The reason why Karna even showed some respect for Ihsan— despite his carefree personality— was because the Ihsan was older than him by nearly three years.

He stiffly continued.

"I… should be honored. That they entrusted me— that I received recognition for my talents. But I’m not. I… don’t know."

His face shadowed over, his hands were trembling slightly. And at that moment, I knew he knew what he was feeling. He was too proud to admit it— no, to accept it. I wanted to tell him what it was. But how could you say something like that gently?

The answer was that you could not. Not with someone like Karna. You could not skirt around the issue. You had to be direct. So I was.

"You’re afraid," I said.

His gaze snapped towards me. "I’m not—"

"Why?" I spoke over him.

He opened his mouth, then closed it slowly. He raised a hand, and saw the shaking. He placed it over his chest, as if he were feeling his heartbeat.

"What if I... fail?" Karna asked no one in particular. "I failed Sena. Because of my weakness, Sena is dead."

"You didn’t kill him—"

"But because of me, he’s dead. Because I was not strong enough. I nearly died too, and that cost you your prized potion. What if… because of me, the mission fails completely?"

His gaze bore into my soul. The weight of his problems, so unfamiliar. It was completely alien to me. I could not help him; there was no wisdom I could impart to him. But I understood one thing: what it was like to be afraid.

Our fear stemmed from different roots. From distant trees. So dissimilar, you could not compare them. Yet it all fell under the same canopy, existing in the same forest.

A state of fear.

Uncertainty.

Terror.

It was one where you questioned yourself, but got no answers. It was when you looked to the future, and saw nothing. I remembered dying— having all the bones in my body smashed, watching as my blood pooled up in the middle of the road, and thinking to myself ‘Is this it?’, before I lost everything for the first time.

Then I remembered fearing for my mother’s life. I did everything I could to prevent it; to save the person I cared about the most. And watched helplessly as I failed, and lost everything for the second time.

Finally, I remembered being a slave. Where every day of my life was filled with terror. That I could be sold at any moment. That I could be beaten, raped, killed, and lose everything for the third time.

But that never happened.

Was it a silver lining that I could walk freely now? Or at least, freer than I was before? That even though I died once, I was given a second chance at life— did that make it better?

It was not a consolation. It did not make me feel any better. I was still a slave by the brand on my face. I could never go back to my old world nor could return to the happy days in Villamcreek with my mother.

But these facts alone did not make me fear.

It made me feel angry. Sad. Unhappy. A dozen other negative emotions— none of it was fear.

Because fear came from something else. From questions with no answers.

Or maybe it was an instinct. A survival mechanism built into all living beings, designed to perpetuate life. And yet, it stayed true: I was not afraid of things that had happened, but of things that could be.

And so was Karna.

Not everyone could confront their fears and overcome it. The heroes you heard about in stories could. But I was not a hero; most people weren’t.

Fear could not so easily be dispelled. But there was a way to slightly allay it. If I could not challenge my uncertainty, I could at least find comfort in what I knew. At least, for a little bit.

So I pulled the Goblin’s hand off his chest. I clasped it tightly in between my palms. My eyes locked into his.

"Why did you become a Dark Crusader?"

It was a question. One only he knew the answer to.

"To change the world," Karna said slowly. "Goblins are… hated. Disliked for something our ancestors did wrong hundreds of years ago. But, was what they did even wrong?"

He looked heavenward as he pondered out loud. "What was their sin? Was it going against the Goddess by practicing magic? Defending their closest allies when they were invaded? Or was it… losing? Being defeated, and chased out of our home."

He stared dreamily at something in the sky. A wistful gaze, longing for something.

"Do you see that?"

He pointed at the horizon, southwards, hanging barely at the edge of the sable dome that stretched overhead.

"Inferna."

Karna said its name. I saw the glowing red dot past the tip of his fingers. It was the South Star. The star that hung over Hell itself.

"I was born in the Sharan Enclave within Anibes like most other Goblins. And there was this story that everybody knew, about a Goblin boy. It was a folktale. I’m not even sure if it is true. But I loved it. And I would have my parents tell me about it constantly."

"What was it about?" I asked softly.

"A long time ago, when Goblins still lived in tribes far from one other. There was a boy. He was a bold young boy who loved leaving his village in search of adventure. But his parents told him never to go too far. Never to stray past the valley. For, they said, beyond that valley, was a great desert where many souls were lost.

"The boy however, didn’t listen. He thought that the tall mountains would guide him home. So he went past the valley, exploring the landscape beyond it. But what he found there was a vast desolate landscape. He tried to turn back, but everywhere he looked, he saw the same thing: tall hills jutting out in the distance. He was lost, just as his parents said he would be. He was… alone. Or at least, that was what he thought."

He spoke clinging to every word. Telling the story as much to me, as to himself.

"What happened next?"

"He wandered for days. Day turning into night. Night turning back into day. But time no longer mattered to him. The sky spun around him, the scenery everchanging. He was abandoned by the world. But there was one constant. The only thing that stayed with him. A red star. The star that never moved. The star that waited for him.

"He followed the star, certain it would guide him home. He thought, Why else would it stay, while everything else left? It has to be a sign from the Goddess! So he ran after it. For weeks on end. As he grew hungrier. As it grew colder and colder. He followed it, until he could no longer walk. Until he could only crawl. And when he finally reached it. When it hung directly overhead. He still never found his home. Darkness came over him, and he realized one thing: there was nothing waiting for him but despair."

I listened as Karna spoke from his heart. As he remembered something that was so dear to him— something that made him who he was today.

"Did he die?"

"Yes."

My eyes widened for a moment, but Karna continued.

"Or he would have. If the traveller didn’t find him."

"Traveller?" I inclined my head to the side. "Someone saved him? In the middle of nowhere?"

He grunted in affirmation. "It was luck. Or a blessing. But regardless, a traveller found the boy collapsed in the snow. He brought the boy to his home. Nursed him back to life. The boy was shocked. He thought he had died. He told the traveller his story, and how he ended up lost in the great desert. And when the traveller asked why he ignored his parents warnings, the boy could only cry in response.

"At first, the traveller felt that the boy deserved his fate. His own foolishness brought him here. There was no reason to help him. Yet, when the traveller saw the boy’s tears, he could only bring himself to pity the boy. So he told the boy that he would bring him home. He asked the boy to describe his home, but all the boy remembered was that there was less snow. The traveller grew frustrated. ‘Is there nothing else you can tell me?’ he asked. But the boy had no answer for him."

I could almost feel the traveller’s frustration. "Did the boy manage to remember anything to help the traveller?"

"No." Karna smirked. "The boy was a fool. He never recalled anything else."

"What?" My jaw dropped. "So the boy never went home?"

"He did," Karna said, much to my surprise. "Because the traveller never gave up."

He took a deep breath, then resumed telling the story.

"The traveller swore to the boy that he would return him to his home. He spent days, months, and years searching for a village in a place with less snow. And while that happened, he raised the boy himself. Feeding him, teaching him, and caring for him. Finally, after a decade passed. When the boy became a man, the traveller brought him to a familiar valley. A place with less snow. A village hidden between the mountains."

"He’s finally home? After all those years… he made it." I smiled slightly. Then I felt my jaw drop as the realization dawned on me.

"So you realized it too," Karna chuckled. "Yes, the boy-turned-man returned to his village. He searched excitedly for his parents. But they weren’t there. They were dead, having passed away due to old age."

"That’s… so sad."

"Yes. That was the folly of the boy. The mistake the man regretted for the rest of his life. A tragedy."

"But you said you loved this story!" I sputtered "What… what’s the point of it if his parents died in the end?"

"The point is to listen to your parents. For they are older and wiser than you. Because if you don’t, you’ll come to regret it once you become an adult."

I just sat there, completely appalled by the harsh reality of a kid’s story. But Karna’s lips quirked upwards.

"I’m sure you think it’s a terrible story for a child. And I do agree somewhat. But there’s something else to the story. Something else that is no longer mentioned. Two differences between the version my parents told me, and the one our forefathers told their children."

"And what was that?" I asked, blinking.

"The first is what came next," he said with a smile. "The boy was overcome with regret. So he worked the rest of his life to atone for his folly. And he succeeded. That’s the first difference."

"Why would they leave that part out?"

"They left it out because of the second difference: the identity of the boy and the traveller. Never once in this version, do they mention who they are."

"Who were they?" I waited with trepidation for the answer.

The entire time Karna told me the story, he stared up at the sky. Never once did he look at me. But finally, the Goblin turned to face me. And I saw his mouth move. The words slowly registered in my head and my eyes widened.

"The first Goblin King and the Demon Lord." He licked his lips as he answered my question. "That is who they were supposed to be.

"The Goblin King went on to unite all the Goblin tribes after his parents death. He created a place all Goblins could return to. A place in Hell. Their home. Our home."

"But you’ve never been there," I pointed out the obvious. "How can it be your home, if you’ve never lived there?"

"True, I’ve never been to Hell. Nor have my parents. But when I first heard the story— the original story— I felt a sense of longing as a child. Whenever I saw the Inferna at the edge of the night’s sky, I would dream of following it. Running to the horizon, and swimming across the oceans. Not by myself, but with all the other Goblins in the world. Just like how it brought the first Goblin King back to his home, it would bring our people home. And even now, when I see the South Star, I sometimes still imagine what that would be like."

"But you said the star didn’t bring him home. It brought him despair!" I frowned.

"Perhaps it did. But only at first. The star led him to the Demon Lord, who eventually brought him back home. So in the end, it was by following Inferna that he found himself back home."

That felt… wrong. No, not wrong. It was... naive? Yes, that's what it was. Because it was a kid’s reasoning.

And Karna knew it too. He gave me a half shrug.

"I don’t know if I’ll ever even see Hell. Let alone every single Goblin out there. But maybe, if I could just make Goblin’s less hated, and be more… accepted, so that the Goblins who are born outside of— or leave— Sharan aren’t mistreated, then I’ll be happy."

"And that’s why you became a Dark Crusader?"

"Yes," he said without any hesitation. "Because only the Dark Crusaders can do that. They’re the only ones powerful enough, who are fighting to change the world. The only ones since the Shadow’s Evangelium who are strong and use that strength to fight for us. Because if we win, then we’ll be the ones deciding who is right, and who is wrong."

He finally finished.

It seemed counter intuitive, but only at first; the whole thought process was predicated on their victory. And while it was easy to say ‘what if you lose?’ to disparage that idea, wasn’t the whole point of fighting to win?

So I smiled.

"Thank you," I said.

"For what?" Karna frowned. Then he shifted on his feet. "I… should be the one thanking you. You helped me. I don’t know what you did, but I feel a lot better now."

"You helped me too. By telling me that."

"The story?"

"No. Everything."

"I do not understand." The Goblin was bewildered. And this time, I laughed.

"It’s fine. You won’t understand."

I let go of his hands and took a step back.

"Hey," I said cheerfully as I stood up. "Since I listened to you, you’ll have to return the favor."

"Sure…?"

"Don’t worry," I said reassuringly. "It’s just a song. It’s one of my favorites. I listened to it first when I was a child. It’s also about… dreams."

"Dreams?" Karna cocked his head.

"Mhm. Don’t worry about it. It’s complicated." I took a deep breath, and quickly added "Also, don’t mind my singing. I used to practice as a child— well, I’m still a child. But I haven’t sung in a while. So it might not be so good."

He nodded stiffly, as I opened my mouth to sing.

Karna told me a story about— it was not about himself, yet it told me many things about him as a person. And in that same vein, singing— music— carried a meaning with it. It could convey the thoughts of the musician even without words.

So even though it was a song Karna never heard before— even though it was not one he understood the words of— he was still fascinated by it. To him, it was something out of this world. And it was.

But to me, the words came out weird and awkward. I pronounced the words incorrectly, and overemphasized the wrong syllables. It was a song from my childhood. My world.

A song in English.

"[Somewhere over the rainbow, way up high, there's a land that I heard of once in a lullaby~]"

When I first came into this world, I thought this was a dream. I thought that one day, I would wake up, and find myself back on Earth— back on my bed, having made all of this up in my head.

I held out hope for so long. I imagined mom’s reaction when I told her I had another mother, and thought about the jokes dad would likely make.

But that day never came.

As time went on, I rejected more and more of this world. I spent a decade living here, but only embraced my mother..

And while she taught me to love again, even when I hated everything, I still dreamt of leaving everything behind. Only this time, to leave with her by my side.

I wanted to be always next to my mother, apart from the world around us.

This is not Wonderland.

There is no yellow brick road to follow.

There is no wardrobe to turn back to.

This was my life now. There was no denying it. And there was no escaping it. I had tried numerous times, and I failed each and every single time.

I was the daughter of a criminal.

I was a slave.

And now, I was a... terrorist?

Or maybe not. Maybe it was justice. Maybe it would help an entire species of people.

...or maybe it would help those around me. And that should have been enough, right?

I did not know.

But listening to Karna speak made me realize something: there were far greater worries out there than mine. Not that my worries were unimportant; they mattered a lot to me.

Both were important. Yet they could not be equally important. So which mattered more? I still did not know.

However, not knowing did not excuse inaction. Trying to figure something out— learn what is best as you do it— was better than doing nothing.

Same went for what I wanted.

I wanted revenge; but I was scared of killing. I wanted to fight alongside Karna, Gerritt, Ihsan, and Victor; but I did not want to be in the wrong. Were these really antitheses to each other?

I did not know.

But I had to find out.

So that night, I made my choice.

And I hoped— truly hoped, for myself, and for those around me— that it was the right decision.

Chapter 35: Fort Conon

"Hey, what’s this?"

"Why’re you asking me? It’s your house!" the girl said with folded arms.

The boy pulled out a book from the shelf. He lifted the tome with both hands, carefully setting it down on the floor. He dusted off the cover, and ignored the girl as she leaned over his shoulders.

"What does it say?" she asked. "I can’t see!"

He read out its title slowly. "It says… ‘The Darkness of Light."

The girl cocked her head to the side. "What does that mean?"

"I don’t know. Maybe it has something to do with the Goddess?"

"The Goddess? Why— oh, because it’s about light."

"Exactly. Goddess grace us, this book looks old." The boy gently flipped through a few pages, trying not to damage its ancient scripts. "And it's even in the Venerable Language— see, it uses symbols as characters and not letters!"

"Boring!" The girl rolled her eyes. "Why do you like these boring things? How did you even know that?!"

"Shut up, it’s interesting!" the boy said defensively. "If you don’t want to read it, fine! But don’t disturb me."

"Lame. I’m going to talk to your sister. She’s three and she’s more fun than you."

"Whatever."

"Are you reading that stupid book again? Why don’t you do something else. Everytime I come to visit now, you won’t even greet me at the door."

"Because you’re annoying," the boy snapped back. "Go away if you’re just going to annoy me."

The girl sighed. She sat on the bed next to him, and peered over. "...what’s it about?"

"Well, if you really want to know," the boy sniffed and shut the book. ‘It’s about the history of magic."

"Magic?" She blinked. "But that’s… heresy!"

"Apparently it’s not. The book explains why that’s wrong. Look here." He turned to a page a quarter of the way through. "Read this. The Goddess never cared about magic. Being good just meant you were strong. And magic made you strong! But everyone else feared the Demons because of that— because they got too strong. So they called magic evil, and labeled them heretics."

"But that’s… wrong! Being good means to be kind, and to show compassion. That’s why the Goddess is the Goddess of Light!"

"That’s just what they want you to think. Why else would the Goddess make some people stronger than others? Give individuals dominion over the world? Because strength is justice."

"W-what about Hell?! Have you not heard of what it’s like? They destroyed the land! No one can live there anymore. That’s what magic did to the world. That’s why Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and all the other species’ in the world waged war with them in the first place!"

"Do you really believe that? If no one could live in Hell, how did the Demons survive for thousands of years?" the boy scoffed. "Oh, and not the entire world went to war with them. The First and Second Holy Wars were just Humans and Elves. The other species’ only came to help when they started losing."

"I-I see…" the girl trailed off. She looked at the boy as he continued. And she did not know what to say.

"It’s fine if you don’t get this at first. The Church has been doing a good job at covering this up since when this was written 2000 years ago—"

"Look! Watch this!" the boy exclaimed.

He raised a hand excitedly, and a light flashed. The girl stared in shock as a magic circle formed around his hand. As the wind picked up, nearly blowing the hat off her head.

"T-that’s magic— that’s… you shouldn’t be doing that!" She yanked his arm down.

"Why not?" The boy frowned. "I explained to you , didn’t I? There’s nothing wrong with—"

"But you can’t! You’ll get in trouble! They’ll… kill you ! After what happened with—" The girl paused, then leaned forward and spoke in a hushed voice. "After what happened to House Corinna. After what happened with their heiress. Now, you won’t just be locked up in a dungeon like before! They’ll actually kill you!"

"Please, what happened with Lady Valeria—"

"She’s not a Lady anymore!"

"Fine. What happened with the Fiend"— the boy glared at the girl as she gave him a look— "was entirely different. Just because I can be executed for magic, doesn’t mean I will be."

"But your family will be disgraced. Your father is only a Viscount. I-if this gets out…"

"It won’t get out," the boy said confidently. Then he looked at the girl with a cocked brow. "Not unless someone decides to snitch."

"I-I will never! Lady’s honor!" The girl flushed. "But your servants— they’ll surely notice something!"

"Please. The common folk are too simpleminded to even notice, let alone care." The boy waved a hand off dismissively. "Trust me on this."

And the girl really wanted to trust him.

"This is an obsession, Victor. You know it is. It’s been a year now, and all you ever talk about anymore is that stupid book!" the girl snapped back.

"Listen to me, Elena. I am not obsessed. All I desire is to acquire the truth," Victor spoke succinctly. Then he sniffed. "And I’m not sure why you’re calling me obsessed, when you still pay tribute to the Church, knowing full well that they’re nothing more than a false institution propped up to perpetuate these false ideals."

Elena stood aghast, and replied defensively. "You don’t know that! And I’m not paying tribute to the Church, I’m paying tribute to the Goddess."

Victor laughed. "I see, you’re just in denial. After I’ve explained so thoroughly to you such a simple concept a copious number of times."

"I-I…" Elena reached for his hand, and grasped it gently. She spoke softly. "Please Victorianius. You can’t keep doing this. We’ll be going to the Xanthe Academy soon. If you keep this up over there…"

He shook his head, pulling his hand back. "I can’t just give up on this. In fact, I’m actually quite talented in magic. Without anyone to teach me— without any books or grimoires to study— I’ve learned a few spells all by myself. And I did it all in secret."

"...so that’s what this is about then. Pride?"

"No. I just told you, it’s about the truth. Why do you find it so hard to understand something so simple," Victor snorted. When Elena said nothing in response, he continued. "I’m looking to procure more books on magic and its history too. It’s not easy. But it is possible. I just have to be very discreet."

Victor turned to Elena, and his gaze met hers. He placed one hand on her shoulder and looked solemnly at her.

"You’re the only one who knows this, Elenora. Promise me you won’t tell anyone."

She hesitated. Then she sighed and took his hand.

"I promise."

"You lied."

Victor said nothing else. He looked at Elena as she hid behind his father.

"I’m sorry," she whispered.

"There’s nothing to be sorry for, Lady Elenora. My son has committed a grave sin, and you’ve done good by telling me of it," the patriarch of the Valens family spoke gently to the girl. Then he turned to his son. "Victorianius Valens. You are a disgrace to our family! We are pulling you out from Xanthe this instant, and your education shall resume under our supervision."

"You can’t do that!" the boy sputtered. But his father heard not a word of it.

"Yes I can. And I will. Your actions could have cost our household everything! Generations of hard work gone to waste because of one foolish child. Where did you even get that apocrypha from?! Word of this shall not leave this room. Do you understand me?"

"I— yes, father."

"Good." The man headed for the door, but stopped by Elena before leaving. "Lady Elenora, please don’t tell your father— the Earl about this."

"I won’t, Lord Valens."

"Thank you."

They spoke quietly at the exit, as the boy— a few years away from being a young man— glared at them. No. Not at the man.

His gaze fixated on the girl. His childhood friend. His betrayer.

And he swore revenge.

"It’s time."

The words broke Victor out of his trance. The young man got up from his knees, and faced the figure waiting at the doorway.

"Ah, Gerritt. Is it already midnight?"

"Yes," the Orc confirmed. "Praying before the battle?"

The corners of his mouth quirked up. "Indeed. Not for aid, but to give thanks. After all, thanks to Her, Melas has decided to join us tonight."

Gerritt eyed him with some hesitation. "I am… worried for her. She is too young to fight. Even if she promised she would stay by my side."

"Fear not, Commander. I know you have seen many difficult battles, but this is not one of them. It will be a decisive victory. My presence alone should guarantee it."

"Then why must Melas fight?" Gerritt asked, frowning. "What good would having a child on the battlefield do?"

For a moment, Victor’s smile faded and his forehead creased. Then he strolled past the Dark Commander. "To prove herself, of course. So the Infernalis will see that she’s on our side."

"Hrmph. And who does that benefit?"

The Orc posed the question to the Dark Acolyte. But there was no response. They both knew the answer to it, and responding would be pointless.

***

"Why do we always get the damned night shift?"

A guard rested both arms on the stone crenellations of the wall. He gazed up at the night sky as someone next to him retorted.

"Maybe it’s because you keep running your stupid mouth off to the Captain?"

"It’s not my fault! She’s the one who let’s me do it. You know, I’d think she likes me if she weren’t such a b—"

"Can both of you shut up? We’re supposed to keep watch, not chat," a sharp voice interrupted the mundane chatter.

The third guard turned away from his two companions, and fixed his eyes on the darkness ahead. Only the dim torches mounted on the fortress’ walls lit up the night, a sliver of the moon— not even a crescent— barely visible to the naked eye.

"Why do you gotta be so stuck up, man? The Captain ain’t gonna sleep with you even if you—"

"Shut up," the second guard cut him off. "Why are you like this? You’ve only been stationed here for a few weeks and you’re acting like you’ve been stuck here for years."

"And that’s what I’m saying! Why do we even have to be here? It’s not like those Abominations— or whatever they’re calling it— are anywhere close to us."

"What about the slave revolts happening all across the Free Lands? Not worried about them?"

"Not really. It’s not like we even have that many slaves. I swear I can count the number of slaves I saw in the six months I spent in Neo Colynas on both my hands!" The first guard raised a few fingers, and the other two sighed.

"Why do you have a response for everything we say? We’re soldiers, we’re supposed to protect our cities. With the chaos the Free Lands is in at the moment, of course they’ll reinforce the borders. Especially here— Fort Conon has been a key defensive position for the Chalstics Confederacy ever since its formation."

"Hey man, I just want to get la—"

"Shush. I see something." The third guard raised a hand up as he spoke. He pointed in a direction, and squinted. "There. I see… light?"

"I don’t see anything… wait I see it now."

"Yeah, me too. But that’s not a light. That’s…" he trailed off, then the realization hit him. "Shit! Raise the alarm!"

But it was too late.

A red ball of fire flew through the air, past the trees, straight at the gates of the fortress. The spell detonated upon impact, exploding on the large double doors of the fortress gates.

It dented backwards, still standing strong. It was built to take the force of siege weapons like battering rams and catapults. It would not fall to a single blast.

So a second Fireball struck it. Then a third. A fourth. And it continued, finally until the gates blew open. Its wood burned and splintered. The metal bent and collapsed on itself.

The soldiers of Fort Conon were scrambling for battle. The guards on the walls were waiting in anticipation. Their bows drawn, swords ready. Some even had guns prepared and aimed in the direction of the blasts.

But no army appeared.

Instead, from the nearby trees, arrows flew by the dozens. They came from from behind the bushes, in between the branches, curving around impossible corners, piercing through shields— through armor. Like it was made of nothing.

"Look out—" one of the guards cried.

But he was cut off. An arrow was sticking out the side of his head. He collapsed, weakly grasping at the wound as he slowly died. As soldiers perished around him. As the fortress fell.

The explosions resounded throughout the night with sounds of screaming and shouting accompanying it as the assault started. And that was the signal to move.

Karna did not say anything. He knew the plan. And so did his men. So there was no verbal command. There was only a nod of the head. A movement of the hand. And they were off.

They stalked through the shadows, sprinting past the trees, charging at the walls of the fortress. But there was no fighting here. And neither was there a gate to breach. There was just a wall.

A tall wall. One which most people would not be able to climb. But this group of individuals were not most people.

They were Goblins. And in addition to being short and having incredibly rough skin, they had strong legs too. That was how they could move so quickly. That was how they could scale a fort’s walls with few problems.

So as the guards abandoned their post, and went to assist their comrades at the main gate, the Goblins did exactly that.

Karna leapt up the wall without a problem. He landed silently on his two feet, and almost as quietly, Ihsan came up right next to him. They were followed by two dozen other Goblins. Not all of them could cover such a distance in one jump, but they helped each other make it.

The lead Goblin peeked over the walls and saw figures gathering at the courtyard. They were all armed. Ready for combat in mere minutes. But that was not all of the soldiers. They were far too few. So he ignored them.

He turned to the Goblin at his elbow.

"You know what to do," he spoke quietly.

Ihsan nodded. He took off, followed by five other Goblins. They split off into two groups. One stayed along the walls, and the other went down. But both made their way away from the fighting— from the battle at the front gates.

Karna and his group of Goblins made their way down the stairwell. They waited as a dozen guards ran past, before continuing deeper into the fort.

They snuck past a training area and into a hallway, where the loud footsteps of heavy boots were all they could hear. They avoided the sound of marching soldiers, and proceeded down a side passage. A small group of soldiers were passing through. No more than half a dozen.

This time, Karna acted. He drew his bow quickly as they rounded the corner. Arrow already nocked, he loosed straight at the foremost soldier.

"What the—"

The arrow went straight through his open mouth, and he was silenced in an instant. His companions followed quickly after, as the Goblins silently disposed of the group.

"Lock their bodies in that room. Quickly. The armory is up ahead," Karna ordered his men. They efficiently did as they were told, and in a minute, they were moving again.

The door to the armory swung open, as soldiers went in and out in a hurry. Most of them were still struggling to equip their gear, woken by the alarm from half an hour ago. They froze as they saw the figures appear.

There were just over a dozen of them. Small figures, dressed in concealing clothes. They came with their bows and short swords. Outnumbered more than three-to-one.

But the soldiers were not prepared. They were armed with weapons, but not fully ready for a fight. For battle. And especially for what came next.

Arrows pierced through steel. The soldiers charged, but were met by the swift Goblins. The Goblins easily dodged their swings, cutting and stabbing at the soldiers of the fortress.

A loud voice rallied the soldiers.

"To me, men! Regroup and fight back!"

Soldiers began retreating. Not because they were losing. But they were giving way for… gunfire.

Bolts of energy flashed past the large hall. They were not the most accurate shots, and the Goblins were quick. They evaded most of the bullets. Or, most of them did.

Karna blocked two shots, dodging a third. He ducked behind a pillar, as the suppressing fire forced the Goblins back. He watched a Goblin dodging as many bullets as he could. But there were too many.

One struck the Goblin in the leg, and he fell. And that was it for him. The gunfire struck him down as he dropped. Dead.

Karna’s eyes flickered. He saw the large soldier… a Lieutenant? He did not know military ranks all that well. But he was a leader. Just like me, Karna thought.

He raised his shortsword. It was a regular weapon— he had given his personal dagger to Melas. This one was unenchanted. But it did not matter. Not with what he was going to do with it.

He aimed his sword at the enemy leader, and shouted to his men.

"Kill him."

***

I stood, waiting. There was nothing for me to do; or at least, nothing for me to do right now. I was just standing with Gerritt. No one else was with us.

Well, there were a lot of undead.

Dozens of animals and some monsters surrounded us. They were the rotting corpses of whatever creature Gerritt could find and raise to use for this siege. Other than that, we were alone.

They smelled terrible, as usual. Although the smell got kind of bearable after a while— in the sense that I was no longer choking with each breath. But maybe I was just nervous. Perhaps that was why the stench of death did not bother me as much as it should. Because there was something far more important in my mind. And that was fighting.

I was going to help Gerritt take the gates on the northeastern side of the wall. Victor was assaulting the southwestern entrance with most of the Goblins, while Karna went in with a small group to strike the vulnerable and still ill-equipped soldiers. Ihsan was supposed to open the gates for us while that happened so we could send the undead in.

Other than that, Gerritt and I were not supposed to do much. Our job was to simply split up the forces— a false attack in a way. Not that there was no threat from these undead; they could very well kill dozens of armed guards. But by coming last, the soldiers would panic, thinking we were the main threat. And they would be even more disorganized that way.

An attack from three directions. The front, the inside, and the back. The question was: who would they focus on defending from the most?

Naturally it would be the front; but once we hit them from behind, they would think the frontal assault was nothing more than a diversion. Try and protect their flank, thus exposing their main line of defense.

It was a simple strategy. But it should work nonetheless.

And my job was just as simple— just send some spells flying now and then. To bring attention to us, while Gerritt protects me.

Yet I was still shaking. It was not all fear; I was pretty sure I was going to come out just fine. It was senseless trepidation. The one that came from knowing you were doing something important— that was how I felt.

It had probably been less than half an hour since I heard the first blast from the Fireball spell. But to me, it felt like I had been waiting for days. Finally, I saw the gates move.

The massive double doors slowly swung open. A few figures waited for us at the walls. I turned to Gerritt. He was dressed in full plate mail, complete with a helmet and all. He nodded, as he closed the visor.

"It’s time, Melas. Stay close to me and you’ll be safe."

I made a sound in agreement. Then the first group of undead sprinted down the road. They charged into the fortress. Through the open gates. And straight into battle.

I could hear the tide of the battle immediately shift; the soldiers were shocked by the sudden new enemies. A second wave of undead went forward. Then a third.

I walked alongside Gerritt and a few undead towards the fort. We entered it, and I saw Ihsan waiting there for us. A few guards lay dead at his feet.

"Sorry for the wait," he said, gesturing at the bodies lying on the ground. "More soldiers than we thought there would be. Had to take care of them."

"Hrmph, perhaps they received more troops since we scouted them. No matter. This only helps us more."

Gerritt raised a hand, and a small magic circle flashed in the air. Then, larger versions of the same magic circle appeared around the dead bodies. I thought I could see tiny invisible strings weaving into them. And after half a minute of casting the spell, the dead finally became undead.

The lifeless guards picked themselves up, body still half limp as they moved. A dim green glow was emitted from their eyes, as they picked up weapons and awaited orders. I did not think a verbal or physical cue was wholly necessary, but the Orc pointed at the battle regardless.

"Go," he ordered. "Slay my enemies or force them to surrender. Do not let them escape."

The undead obeyed. They charged into the battlefield, swinging their weapons lamely and possibly ineffectively. They did not sprint. These were zombies— weak ones at that. If the Necromancer wanted to make them stronger, it would have taken more time; but that was not needed. These were meant to be fodder.

And I guess I am too.

I took a deep breath. I briefly glanced at Gerritt, who seemed busy controlling his undead. Then I looked at Ihsan— he was firing arrows alongside a few other Goblins. Time to pull my own weight.

I raised a hand. I felt the spell forming. The mana in the world around me was gathering. Then sparks appeared. The embers quickly took the shape of arrows.

I conjured up the hail of Fire Arrows and sent it sailing across the battlefield. Soldiers raised their shields to block the attack with little issue, but were immediately pressed by the undead swinging wildly at them.

I watched as one of the flaming arrows struck the side of a soldier. The man recoiled in pain, clutching at his wound. It was not a fatal wound— his armor took most of the damage. But it still gave an opening.

An undead bear-like creature smashed his head in and I winced.

Yet, I did not let up. I clasped the dagger on my right hand tightly as I continued sending dozens of fiery projectiles into the ranks of soldiers. They were being pushed back and they were also outnumbered.

I saw groups of soldiers rushing from the other side of the fort to reinforce their rear. They clashed into the undead’s side, cutting them down— barely struggling with the reanimated monsters.

I was about to hurl some spells at them, when from the corner of my eye I saw a flash of light. A bolt of energy flew across the battlefield. And it was going straight at me.

I ducked to the side in a panic, almost falling as I did. The bullet barely whizzed by me. That was close. I steadied myself, looking back up—

And more bolts of energy were flying in my direction. I backed up, and erected a magical barrier in front of me. The gunshots impacted the Force Shield, forming small cracks with each hit.

I clenched my teeth, as I readied for a counterattack. The barrier was not going to last more than ten seconds. I had to start moving once it broke— getting ready to strike back with something big.

But the most powerful spell I knew currently was not enough to take them all out. Perhaps a snare? That could cover enough area to hit multiple of them at once. But did it even go that far?

I did not have time to think. I prepared to cast a spell and held it at the tip of both my hands, ready for the moment my barrier broke. Magic Missile it is, I decided out of necessity.

The cracks grew larger on the translucent blue shield, forming almost a spider web shape on its surface. Finally, after another bolt of energy struck it, it shattered. I stepped to the side—

And a wall of earth rose up in front of me.

I blinked.

"Huh—"

Then I felt it. The mana from the ground being pulled. I spun to my right, and saw rock and dirt flying through the air, forming a spear right next to Gerritt.

"I told you, you’ll be safe with me," he said, and I thought I could see him smiling gently at me.

Then the large projectile launched forward. Into the direction of the gunmen. I heard shouts, and a loud impact. The gunfire stopped momentarily.

I peeked over the corner of the earthen wall. The soldiers were not all dead. Only one or two died, the rest were injured. But they were thrown into disarray.

"Finish them off," the Dark Commander’s voice boomed past me.

I turned to my left, and I saw Ihsan nodding alongside the other Goblins. They loosed their arrows at the enemies trying to get back up. Forcing them down. And killing any who tried to reach for their rifles.

I watched as the soldiers realized their ranged troops had fallen. As they were overwhelmed by the undead and projectiles. They began to retreat, pulling back to the inside of the fort.

I stepped around the barrier protruding out of the ground, and surveyed the battlefield. Then I exhaled deeply. "Thanks," I said. "You saved my life."

Gerritt shook his head, but still focused on the fighting. "You did a good job, Melas," he remarked. "It’s because of your help, we’ve secured the outside faster than we planned."

I looked at all the dead bodies. Mostly Human, only some Goblins, and a lot of undead. Then I murmured an agreement and changed the subject. "I didn’t know you could also do Geomancy. I thought you were just a Necromancer?"

"Hrmph, that is correct." He nodded. "But I’ve lived a long time, and studied magic for most of it. While I can do some earth magic, my list of spells in that field is far more limited than in Necromancy. If I were more talented, perhaps I could expand on it more. But alas, I am not."

"Don’t say that! You can raise a hundred undead by yourself, and control them all at once. And that earth spell— the one that shot like a ballista bolt— I saw Victor use it before. That’s pretty powerful!"

The large man laughed, then placed a hand on my head. "You flatter me, Melas. I am grateful to hear that from one as prodigious as you."

"I am not a prod—" I bit my tongue, remembering what Ihsan said about Goblins. I was not sure if the same applied to Orcs, but I decided not to say anything. "Really. You just saved my life!"

"Indeed," Gerritt said. "But the battle is not over. Now we have to take the inside. Although, Karna’s group should be making its way out now. To regroup with us."

"They went to attack the armory, right?" I asked for confirmation.

"Yes. In the western wing of the fort. They were supposed to disrupt movement inside, before quickly finding their way back out," he replied.

"Do you…" I hesitated. I stared at the fighting, making its way into the stone and brick structure. "Do you think something went wrong?"

"Worry not, Melas. We have contingencies in place. Karna should have barricaded himself off in a room if they found themselves surrounded."

"But—" I was halfway speaking, when I saw figures bursting out of the fortress.

About a dozen Goblins ran out of a side entrance. They were covered in grime and gore, and the lines of undead parted to let them through as they made their way to us. I sighed in relief, as I began searching for the familiar Goblin—

But he was not there.

"Where’s Karna?" I asked the nearest Goblin, as he slumped over in exhaustion.

The Goblin was still catching his breath, but I was already asking the question again. "Where’s Karna—"

"Calm down, Melas." Gerritt pulled me back gently, and faced the group of Goblins. "Report. Where’s your leader?"

A Goblin lifted a hand, pointing it back in the direction where they came from. "In… there…" He paused to inhale deeply. Then continued, "We were overwhelmed. They managed to organize themselves quicker than we anticipated. They tried to cut off our escape. He stayed back with a few others to hold them off— so we could get out."

"Hrmph—"

"Is he alive?" I spoke over the Dark Commander.

The Goblin nodded. "Last I saw? Yes. They were outnumbered. Tried leading them into a chokepoint to hold them off. But there was this big guy. Incredibly strong, and he led the soldiers well. Took out three of us by himself."

I froze. The Orc was just listening. He spoke seriously, but without a hint of panic in his voice. "I see."

"What do we do, Gerritt? We have to help him!" I said in a panicked voice.

"I know, Melas. But we can’t just send them back in." He gestured at the group of Goblins. "They’re too tired for that."

"But—" I was cut off again.

A Goblin strolled up to us from the side; a different Goblin. One that was less dirty and less tired. It was Ihsan.

"I can do it," he said.

The Dark Commander only thought it over for a moment. "Very well. But just extract Karna and whoever is with him to a safe spot. Don’t try anything foolish."

Ihsan grinned. "Well, I am generally foolish. The only exception being when it comes to my life. So that sounds good to me."

The two began discussing over what to do. Who he was going to go in with. And other quick strategies. I closed my eyes for a moment. Then I spoke up.

"Let me go with you."

"What?" the two exclaimed at the same time. I explained myself.

"I haven’t done much. And I’m less helpful once inside— my spells would hit as many allies as enemies in a large battle in an enclosed space. So it’s better if I go with a smaller group."

Gerritt sighed, while Ihsan stared at me incredulously.

"Please," I pleaded.

And after a moment of consideration, they acquiesced.

***

Karna dashed away from the flurry of gunfire, dodging the bolts of energy flying by him, and sidestepping the onslaught of projectiles.

They were fighting in a small space. It was not some narrow corridor where two people could barely stand side by side. But it was not the open area needed to employ these long ranged weapons. Yet the soldiers fired on.

Because Karna was quick.

He was followed by two other Goblins. Only two. More stayed behind with him at first, but they were dead now.

The large man— the Lieutenant— with the axe was powerful. His weapon worked as some sort of mana tool. It created a barrier. Like a bubble. That could protect at least half a dozen of his allies. And…

Karna whirled around, and fired an arrow. The arrow shone as it sped through the air. Straight at the Lieutenant. The axeman slammed the hilt of his weapon on the ground, and a dome covered him. The arrow impacted the shield, exploding—

The smoke cleared up quickly. The barrier only had a small crack where it was struck. Karna grunted in annoyance.

And it was strong.

It withstood everything Karna had thrown at it. It even slowly healed the damage it had already taken. Not quickly, but enough that it frustrated the Goblin even more.

He continued running down the hallway, following his two teammates. He stayed at the back, because he was the leader. He was the strongest of their group. So he had to ensure that they stayed alive.

But the hallway was winding, going in a straight line. There was a large door at the end of it. Was it the exit? Probably not. The soldiers had already cut off their exit long ago.

And because of that, they had no choice. They made a break for the door. They swung it open, slamming it shut behind them. Bullets passed through the opening as it got smaller and smaller.

Karna looked around the room. It was big. More spacious than where they were before. With beds lined up on either side. It was… the sleeping quarters.

"Barricade the door," he barked out the order.

The Goblins immediately got to moving anything heavy they could to the door, blocking the entrance with different kinds of wooden furniture. It would not have made much of a difference. Karna knew that. Yet, they had to delay their attackers for as long as possible. Until the attackers became the attacked.

The others had escaped. He took solace in knowing that more than half of his men made it out alive, even after things went bad. Although in the first place, this was supposed to be a hit-and-run attack. They were never supposed to slow down. But they got trapped. And it was… his fault?

No. There was always the possibility that things went bad. It was a dangerous job. Which was why they got their fastest and most agile men for it. To disrupt the enemy from the inside, and impede them as best he could. Catch them while they were still unprepared.

But the Lieutenant rallied the soldiers. Despite being ill equipped, they quickly managed to counterattack. Before Karna could react.

The Goblin grit his teeth.

There was nothing to do about what happened. All that was left to do was deal with the current predicament. At least a dozen soldiers were trying to break in, along with the axeman. And they did not have enough arrows in their quiver to deal with all of them.

"Ready your spells," he said. "Find cover, and be prepared to shoot the moment they tear down that door."

The two Goblin did as they were told. They hid behind whatever cover they could find, and waited.

The door slammed again and again. The beds and wardrobes stacked in front of it were slowly being knocked off with each hit. Then finally, the barricade was smashed open.

Karna loosed three arrows at once. In an instant, two soldiers fell dead, and one barely managed to block it. Arrows flew beside his, striking other soldiers as they tried to react.

A yellow bubble covered the doorway. The arrows harmlessly bounced off of the energy shield. But that was the mistake.

Karna was out of arrows, and so were his two companions. The onslaught of projectiles stopped. The soldiers waited for a moment, before the barrier dissipated. And that gave the Goblins the opening they needed.

They threw down their bows, drawing their shortswords as they did, and ran for the exit. Past the immobile soldiers. Back out the hallway.

There was a shout from behind, as Karna felt his legs burning— pushing him beyond his limits. But ahead, there were three soldiers. Only three who were barring their path.

One for each of the Goblins. For them to dispatch quickly, so they could break free. That was not a problem. Or it should not have been.

Karna parried the stab from a spear. He drew his sword down the wooden shaft, into the guard of the spearman. Then he swung up, and in an instant, the man was dead. Beside him, one of the Goblins took care of the second soldier just as easily. But the other Goblin—

Was struck across the chest. Smashed in the face by shield. Then finished off with a sword to the back of the head. Then he turned and faced the other two Goblins, blocking their escape.

Karna roared, and charged the man. He braced himself, but the attack never came.

Bolts of energy flew in between the two, forcing the Goblin to step back. Half a dozen more soldiers flanked the two Goblins from behind. In total, there were two gunmen, five regular soldiers, and the Lieutenant.

This is it, Karna thought to himself. They were surrounded. Back to back, the Goblins stood. There was a moment where nothing happened, before the action resumed.

Karna rushed the two gunmen, dodging the blue bolts fired at him. A large axe bore down to block his way, but he slid under the swing. The gunmen tried to back up, but he was too quick. With a flourish of his blade, the first one fell.

He was about to strike down the second, when two soldiers attacked him from behind. He sidestepped their attacks. Blocking. Deflecting and dodging their swings. The two reeled back, timing their attacks—

But Karna pointed. A Magic Bolt shot out of his fingers, impacting one of them on the head. His head snapped back, but the helmet absorbed half the damage. He was still alive. But not for long.

With a quick step around the second soldier— the one that was still attacking him— Karna easily countered him, and finished him off.

The injured soldier backed up, as the remaining gunman tried to give him covering fire. He raised his gun, aiming it at the Goblin. But Karna threw his sword. The man fell, the blade sticking out of his chest.

Karna dashed forward. Grabbing the soldier with both hands, spreading them apart and holding them to the side, before he headbutted the injured soldier. The soldier recoiled in pain as Karna yanked the blade off the soldier’s hand and impaled him with it.

The Goblin glanced back at his remaining companion—

And saw an axe tear through the other Goblin. He fell dead on the floor, lying next to two dead soldiers.

Karna clenched the hilt of the sword tightly between his hands. He watched as the last two soldiers— the Lieutenant and a regular swordsman— focused their attention on him. A savage grin came across the axeman’s face.

"Well, well, well. Seems like you’re the only one left. Why don’t you just do us a favor and kill yourself. Although I’m not sure if the Goddess will accept your wretched soul."

"Why don’t you ask the Goddess about that yourself after I kill you," Karna spat back.

"Witty. I didn’t think Goblins could think for themselves. Always thought a Demon would have to tell you what to say. But I don’t see one around here." The man paused, before laughing. "Ah right, I forgot. That’s because they’re mostly dead. Just like you will be."

Karna snarled, and the axeman charged followed by the other soldier. The Goblin dove under the massive axe, and repelled the stab from a sword. He crouched down, slicing at the legs of the large man. But the Lieutenant jumped back.

He was fast. Faster than someone his size should have been moving.

The Lieutenant lurched forward with an overhead swing, and Karna rolled out of the way. The swordsman slashed at him too, but the Goblin was too quick. He evaded the flurry of blows, dodging, blocking, and riposting—

When hard leather boots struck him from the side.

The small Goblin went flying backwards. He tried to pick himself up, but was immediately met with more strikes from the swordsman. The blade narrowly went by his head— he barely craned his neck by just enough to dodge the hit. Then he grabbed for the man’s legs, and pulled.

The swordsman went falling face-first to the floor. But Karna did not pay attention to that. He saw the war axe coming at him. He raised his sword to block it, bracing for the impact.

But when it came, he moved.

Not his feet or his body. He moved his sword. A subtle movement, almost like chambering. Except to redirect the swing.

The axe came striking the ground. The floor cracked open as the large man was knocked off balance. Karna saw an opening. He stabbed for the man’s throat—

But was pulled back. Yanked off his feet by the swordsman, still on the ground.

The swordsman grappled with the Goblin, as he tried to escape. And although Goblins were not weak, this man was strong and knew what he was doing. He held Karna down as the Lieutenant lifted his axe again. This time, to finish the job.

Karna felt his heart racing. But he could not do anything. He was powerless. Too… weak. Just like he feared he would be. He closed his eyes as the axe came swinging down, waiting for his death to come. But it never came.

The Goblin heard a yelp. A shout of surprise. And when he opened his eyes, he saw the large man on the ground. Covered in magical bindings.

"Don’t come any closer or—"

Karna heard the swordsman behind him speaking, but he was cut off. An arrow struck the man in the shoulder, forcing him to let go of the Goblin. Karna saw a flash of light, and stumbled away from the man.

The snare caught the swordsman too, wrapping around his waist, forcing his arms to his side, and keeping him on the floor, completely immobilized.

"Karna, you’re alive!" a young voice exclaimed.

The Goblin stared as the little girl ran towards him, followed by Ihsan and two others. He recognized the Goblins as some of the ones he sent to open the gates for the Commander. He blinked as Melas hugged him.

"How did you…?"

"We came in from the other side where there’s less fighting so we could sneak around and find you," Melas explained. She smiled, her silver eyes reflecting his shocked expression. "I’m so glad we found you."

Karna shifted his feet uncomfortably. "But… why?" he asked.

"Because I was worried about you. I heard what happened— you shouldn’t have stayed."

"I had to. If I did not, they would have surrounded us all. Ruined the Dark Acolyte’s plan…"he trailed off. "I had to stay. To protect my men. My people. But—"

The Goblin’s eyes wandered off. Towards the two small bodies lying amongst the dead. He spoke somberly.

"...they died anyways."

"No," Melas said in a slightly annoyed tone. Then her voice changed into something more solemn. More kind. "You saved them."

And even Karna had to smile a little at that. But the smile quickly faded. Because he saw movement in the background. A loud grunt.

The Lieutenant was pushing with all his might. His arms stretched outwards, as the snare tried to hold him down. But it was not the strongest spell. And the large man was strong.

He tore off the magical bindings. Raising his war axe as he did. "You little shit. I’ll crush you!" he screamed as he swung the massive weapon down.

Karna shoved Melas to the side, as the weapon came crashing down at the both of them. The Goblin reached for a sword as the girl raised an arm. But they were too slow. The man was already winding up for another swing—

Then he exploded.

He didn’t blow up into a thousand pieces. But something detonated on his back. A small explosion, enough to have blown off a body part if it struck a joint. The man collapsed, dead.

Ihsan lowered his bow and grinned. "Idiot forgot about us."

Karna got up to his feet, still slightly disoriented. But he had to say it. He pointed accusingly at the other Goblin. "When did you learn that spell?!"

Ihsan shrugged.

"Melas taught me it."

Melas paused. "...I did?"

***

Victor leisurely strolled through the battlefield. Past all the fighting, and all the death around him. Into the halls of Fort Conon.

He was not a Necromancer. He did not specialize in death magic. So he could only reanimate a handful of the corpses at most.

So he ignored it.

And he ignored the fighting too. They were winning. Of course they were winning. Victor himself had concocted this plan. Their victory was expected from the moment he arrived in the Free Lands. By now, most of the soldiers were surrendering or dead. Most of them.

"Ah, yes. And I believe this is where the Captain’s been. Not in the frontlines, of course. Not in a defensive battle. But that is standard tactics. Surprising of course, since the Captain is…"

He swung the door open, and was met by an explosion.

Fire bloomed all around him, but he walked through it unscathed. The magic circle dissipated along with the barrier he cast to protect himself as he shook his head.

"Unfortunate. If I were not a Pyromancer, maybe you would’ve caught me off guard. That’s an interesting tool. But it appears it has a recharge time, no?" the young man spoke smugly into the room.

The Captain— a young woman— lowered her gauntlet. The mana crystal on it discolored. She tossed it aside, and picked up her sword.

"You. Bastard, what do you want?" she snarled at him.

"It’s quite obvious at this point, is it not? Why do you even feel the need to ask." Victor sighed as he raised his staff. "This fort. Everything in it. It all belongs to the Dark Crusaders now. To me."

The Captain charged him as magic circles formed around him. Ice spikes shot out of the air, at the woman. She sidestepped around the hail of projectiles, blocking some as she did. She closed the distance to the Dark Acolyte, swinging for his neck.

But she saw a flash. The ground glowed just at her feet. She felt heat emanating from the floor. She backed up, as a wall of flames erupted when she stood.

"You’re quick. Even in all that armor, you have quite the impressive reaction time." Victor pointed, and the fire swept forward. "But try dodging this."

The inferno came at the Captain like a wave. She raised her blade, and it shone red. She swung upwards, cutting the flames in two.

"Oh, you’ve got more tricks up your sleeve," Victor said mockingly.

"Shut up and die!" she yelled as she leapt forward. She stabbed at him, aiming for his heart. There was no way he could cast another spell in time—

And he blocked the strike with his staff. The glowing weapon lodged itself on the wooden pole. But it did not cut through it. It simply stopped, right where it touched it.

"What—"

Victor slapped her across the face. She reeled back, and was struck on the chest by a blast of embers.

"Wisened Wood. Made from the trunks of the ancient Elysian Trees. Difficult to cut down, and even more difficult to make something with. But it works well as a medium for spellcraft, so the effort does not go unrewarded. That also allows me to reinforce it with some enchantments, making it incredibly durable. Not something your weak sword can cut through," he remarked with a smirk.

He sauntered over to the Captain. She was lying on the ground, injured and burned by the fire blast. She looked up as he loomed over her.

"Ah, don’t worry. I told you: we’ll just be borrowing this location for a fair bit. I promise you, we’ll return it later." He chuckled to himself, then he raised his foot and stomped on her head.

By the time Gerritt found Victor, he was seated on the desk of the office, looking through the paperwork. The Captain was unconscious, slumped over on the floor.

"Victor, the fighting is over," the Dark Commander stated.

"Yes, I noticed. Very good. How many prisoners have we taken in?" the young man asked, not even looking up.

"A hundred have thrown down their weapons and surrendered. But there might be more who are still alive. We’re looking through the bodies right now for any who are injured and not yet dead."

"I see. And no one escaped?" Victor raised an eyebrow.

"Yes. We ensured that no one made their way out of either gates."

"Good, good," he said, putting down a document. "I’m sure we want to celebrate, but do remember that we have to be prepared for the next few days. We’ll be very busy."

He picked up the young woman off the ground, as Gerritt reassured him. "Yes, I’ve told everyone to remain vigilant. Tally up the inventory, and contact the Infernalis."

"How prompt." Victor nodded slightly. "The prisoners are in the dungeons, yes? Split up just as I instructed?"

"Yes," Gerritt said. Then he added in quickly. "By the way, we suffered nearly three dozen casualties from this battle. A third of them from Karna’s group."

"Ah, unfortunate. And he lived?"

"He performed admirably, and survived the battle."

"Commendable," Victor remarked without any inflection in his voice. "Let the Infernalis know that I shall contact them tomorrow. Tell them there’s several hundred gold coins stored in this fort. Quite a large sum. But not as much as I expected— apparently they sent some back just recently. Anyway, I’ve been working hard, and I deserve a much needed… break."

The Dark Commander eyed the young man as he walked past him. He knew what he was saying. But still, Gerritt frowned.

"Hrmph."

***

I lay on a bed, just gazing at the ceiling.

It was a hard bed— not the comfiest— but it was a bed. Not a sleeping bag. Not the hard wooden ground. But a proper bed. This is nice, I thought to myself, then I sat up abruptly. But I’m hungry.

I looked to my left for a second, before my eyes darted away from what I saw. Still not done cleaning up, huh? I felt my stomach rumble, but I wasn’t so hungry anymore.

I sighed and walked past the Goblins dragging the dead bodies out of the room. Why doesn’t Gerritt just reanimate them to burn themselves? Seems more efficient to me! I kept looking at eye-level, and tried to breathe as little as possible. Gross.

The thought was there, but the revulsion was not as apparent as before. Apparently I was starting to get desensitized, and I wasn’t sure if that was a good or bad thing.

I eventually found myself outside of the fortress. Still within the walls, but no longer forced to smell the putrid stench of dead bodies indoors. Just have to smell it outdoors now!

There was a big fire as bodies were being burned; it was not for any specific reason, other than the fact that burying them would have taken too much time. And leaving them out to rot would’ve stunk up the place.

We were going to stay here for a while. Not long enough for an army to come attack us, but long enough to take the loot from travelers before they stopped trying to pass through. So at most, we would be here for a week.

I was looking forward to it— to sleep in a nice comfy bed. Which was not so nice and comfy. But it was a bed nonetheless. I hadn't slept on one in months!

So I was content.

But apparently Karna was not. I found the Goblin morosely staring up at the sky. He was not upset, just… depressed? Could Goblins even get depressed? I did not know.

"Hey Karna, is Ihsan not back yet?" I asked the opening question. Just to start the conversation; although I was actually curious if Ihsan had returned. He went with a dozen other Goblins to bring whatever was left at our camp to the fort.

Karna grunted. "Not yet."

His reply made me realize I was an idiot, as I remembered that he did not like small talk. So I sat next to him. "What’s wrong? You don’t look happy," I pointed out.

"Mhm. I’m not," he answered simply.

"Why?"

The Goblin furrowed his brows in indignation. But only at first. After a moment, he exhaled resignedly. "Because I failed. Again."

"What do you mean? We took Fort Conon like we were supposed to, and you even saved half your men from being trapped!" I argued. "How could you possibly have ‘failed’?"

"It does not matter. I should not have allowed it to happen in the first place," Karna said glumly. "The Infernalis would not take this failure kindly."

"Why wouldn’t they? This wasn’t your plan, it was Victor’s! And who cares what they think?"

"I do." His head snapped in my direction. "It matters to me."

"But why?" I asked, curious more than anything.

"Because I want to be a Dark Acolyte. And not just a regular Dark Crusader." His yellow eyes bore into me, as I cocked an eyebrow.

"And that’s your dream? To be like Victor?"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "I want to be something more than that.

"There are three categories of Dark Acolytes: Disciple, Apostle, and Herald. Victor is still a Disciple— the lowest of them all. I want to become the strongest of them all: a Herald."

I listened as the Goblin spoke with his heart.

"Previously, I thought I had a chance to at least do that. I can’t be a Dark Sage— not like Jasmin the Voodoo. But I was talented. Or at least, I thought I was. Then I met you."

He averted his eyes away from me, as he continued.

"And then, Victor showed me today how powerful a real Dark Acolyte is. He took charge of three times as many men as me, and only lost twice as many as I did. All the while they fought the main force of the fortress. I thought that maybe I could still stand— I was the only one who could cast that Blast Enchantment! But now, Ihsan…"

He did not finish his rant. But I understood. I understood that—

"You’re jealous." I poked the side of Karna’s face.

"What?"

I folded my arms, and stared sternly at him. "You’re jealous, Karna. That’s why you’re so down. You saw Ihsan cast your spell, and you got jealous. Just like when you got jealous of me."

"I am not—"

I spoke over him.

"Yes you are," I said simply, and he glared at me. "But that’s fine."

He inclined his head to the side, clearly confused, so I elaborated.

"There’s nothing wrong with being jealous. Everyone gets jealous. But as long as you don’t let it bring you down like it is doing to you now, then it’s fine. After all, we’re friends now. I don’t want to see you obsess over something that could hurt you."

I reached for his hand, and grasped it gently. The Goblin’s large eyes widened even more.

"Melas, I…" He swallowed. Then his eyes flickered, and he turned away from me. "Why would I be jealous of someone like you? I’m strong. And I’ll prove it."

"Oh yeah?" I challenged him with a smile.

"Yes! And then you’ll be the one jealous of me!" he stated firmly, and I laughed.

"Of course. But first,"— I stood up and dusted off my pants— "we’ll have to speak to Victor about that."

"The Dark Acolyte? Why?" Karna asked.

"You said you want to impress the Infernalis, right? Well, we’ll ask him to put in a good word for you."

"But—" he protested, but I spoke over him.

"Forging connections is just as important as working hard and being talented. Trust me, I know." I said with a wink. "You can stay here if you want, but I’ll just go find him and have a quick chat. He shouldn’t be mad at me anymore."

I walked away from Karna, leaving him behind as I went to search for Victor.

To be honest, I was not sure if Victor was still mad at me; I hoped he wasn’t, since he saved my life. And I liked him. He was nice… I think. He was a bit rough around the edges like Karna, but ultimately a good guy. I was sure of that.

But even if I disliked him, I was still going to help Karna out. I knew what I was talking about— from Earth knowledge: networking mattered. I had not even gone to University yet in my previous life, but I knew that much.

So I had to get Victor to… recommend Karna to the Infernalis. Put him on their radar. It made sense to me. I found a nearby Goblin, and asked him where Victor was.

"He’s in the dungeon. But the Commander told us under no circumstances should we disturb him right now."

"It’s fine, I just have to speak to him for a moment." I waved off the Goblin’s concerns, and he shrugged.

It really was a trivial issue as far as the young man was concerned. And— as mentioned— I was not sure if he was satisfied with what I’d done. I wanted to make amends. I had to make amends. After all...

I remembered Rin, Shang, and all the other slaves. Especially Theodore. When I saw all their faces after they found out, I knew I could never have stayed with them. As much as I wanted to.

But here? This was where I belonged. It had to be. There was no other place that would accept me. Where do I go if not here?

Definitely not the Church— not the Holy Xan Empire. I would be killed without a shadow of a doubt if I went there— burned at the stake, like some kind of Witch. I did not want that.

So I had to make amends. Because this was where I belonged. This was where I would be for the foreseeable future— where my story began. With these people, as my friends.

And for your friends, sometimes you had to make a compromise. Bonds were forged in making concessions. No one will ever fully agree with you. And that was fine.

I did not want to be a terrorist. But I was fretting over nothing— fearing over nonexistent moral ramifications. The truth was: I was being indecisive.

I was scared of making a choice; to think and act for myself made me afraid. I was too used to my mother guiding me by hand. I was still mentally in chains, despite being free.

But I was free. I had been for a while. I reached up and touched my face. This mark meant nothing if people did not acknowledge it. My footsteps echoed off the wooden walls, as I made my way down the short flight of stairs.

The dungeon was a separate building to the rest of the fort. A wooden structure alongside one of the walls. It was not like a castle dungeon; this was a place to hold people trying to cross the border illegally.

So I made my decision now. I decided to live back when I was a slave, and now, I had a way to live free. I had people to help me in reaching that simple goal. I was not going to betray them. And I was going to help them if they needed it.

There was no moral descent; I was doing what I believed was right. For myself, and for those around me. It had to be right.

I reached the bottom, and found a door. I heard noises coming from the inside. But I paid it no mind. I pushed the door open, and I saw...

Victor stood over a young woman, his clothes hanging loosely off him, and—

I screamed. But it was probably a normal occurrence for me by now.

Chapter 36: Compromise

I was disgusted. Angry. Disappointed.

I felt my fingers twitch as the young man called after me.

"—listen to me, Melas! They are slavers. Monsters! The same people that hurt you!"

His voice was desperate. Pleading. I whirled around and snapped back at him.

"You’re the monster here! How can you do such a thing?!"

Victor stopped midstep; he raised both arms placatingly, as if trying to calm me down. And then he proceeded to speak in a tone that only made me more mad— as if I was being unreasonable.

"It’s justice, Melas," he said emphatically. "These people are evil— I’m only doing what’s right! Believe me."

Was he serious? To say such a thing with a straight face— to believe it was true? I could only gawk at the absurdity of it all. And he seemed to have noticed it.

Where the young man’s expression was previously frantic— in a panicked state— his face twisted into a scowl; as if he were faced with an affront.

"Don’t give me that look. I was doing what’s right, Melas. You told me, didn’t you? You wanted revenge. This is par for the course— I was helping you do just that, Melas."

"I... I never said such a thing! I never wanted you to rape—" I cut myself off. I jabbed one finger in his direction, and stared at him in revulsion. "What is wrong with you?!"

His brows snapped together as he frowned. "Well, I do apologize for trying to help you, Melas. Perhaps if you made yourself clearer, I would not have misconstrued your intentions."

"What?!" I nearly shouted the question.

Victor raised his voice as he replied, clearly showing his fury at the situation.

"Don’t give me that. You heard what I said. I was trying to help you— don’t pretend you did not hear that!"

"Wh— what?" I repeated myself. "Why are you the one getting mad here?!" I sputtered out.

"Because I was only considering your interests, Melas. But if you dislike my assistance, I will refrain from aiding you in the future as both your teacher, and as your friend. Now if you’ll excuse me, I will be taking my leave now."

The young man spun around, and stormed off. I just watched his back as he disappeared behind a door; my mind was still processing what he just said.

"...what?"

This time, I didn't even have the energy to shout.

"Did you know?"

I stormed into the room and glared at Gerritt. The Orc looked up in surprise. "Melas, did something happen—"

I interrupted him.

"Don’t play stupid!" I marched up to him, and pointed vaguely behind me. "Did you know about Victor? W-what he… he’s… doing— did!" I stumbled over my words as I grit my teeth; a surge of disgust came over me as I remembered what I saw.

I expected the Dark Commander to deny it. To pretend like he did not know. To treat me like a stupid kid, and send me on my way. But his response surprised me.

"...yes," he answered honestly, and I was not sure how to feel about that. His eyes met mine, and he bowed his head. "So you found out. I’m sorry you had to see that."

"I— sorry? Don’t apologize to me! Apologize to that poor woman who had to be…" I trailed off, then narrowed my eyes. "Don’t tell me you also…" I left the words unsaid.

For a moment, I did not breathe. I could feel my heart pounding hard in my chest, as I waited for what felt like forever for his reply. Gerritt shook his head.

"Rest assured, Melas. I would never participate in such detestable acts."

I nearly sighed in relief. But I did not let up.

"Then how could you allow it to happen?" I asked, aghast. "How can you let Victor just— do that?"

"Because I can’t stop him," he said slowly. "He’s a Dark Acolyte. A talented spellcaster. More than I’ll ever be. I never wanted him to come here. When the Infernalis told me they were sending a Dark Acolyte, I was elated. But then they told me about him— about his actions— I tried to ask for someone else. Someone not as despicable as him."

"And they… rejected your request?"

"Yes." His eyes flickered for a moment as he said it. He rested his forehead on his palm as he continued.

"They told me to bear with his tendencies, for he was young and brash. He was wanted for heresy and the attempted murder of an Earl’s daughter in the Holy Xan Empire. He sought refuge from them, so the Dark Crusaders took him in."

"But why?" I took a deep breath, trying to calm myself down. "Why would you accept someone like him?"

"Because," he started with a sigh, "we offer protection to anyone who faces oppression for using magic, and we ally with anyone who opposes the Holy Xan Empire. Victor was both of them.

"So we sheltered him, like a King that protects its subjects when an enemy nation invades. It does not matter if among the plethora of citizens, one is a criminal. The King will fight to protect all of his people."

"And that excuses him? Excuses what he does?" I folded my arms and spoke accusingly. "Is everybody in the Dark Crusader a monster? Are there no morals here other than right is might?!"

"No," Gerritt exhaled slowly. "Power is good, it lets us— gives us the capability to— achieve justice. But senseless acts of violence— intentional maliciousness— is not right. If our members commit such acts, they will be punished and forced to reform. But, Victor is one of few exceptions."

"It’s because he’s talented, isn’t it?" I made the inference by myself.

The Orc nodded.

"It is the unfortunate truth. He has only been studying magic for a few years; and for more than half of that time, he was self taught. No teacher, and few books. He has great potential— they believe he could become something like the Fiend at the rate he’s learning."

I felt my stomach twist hearing my mom being compared to Victor… to a rapist. It was nauseating, but I swallowed the bile that tried to force its way up my throat. "And just because of that, everyone is willing to turn a blind eye?"

"Not everyone. Outside of the Infernalis, only myself and other Dark Commanders who previously worked with him are aware of his actions. "

"That’s besides the point, and you know it," I said. But deep down, there was a small sense of relief knowing that Karna and the others were unaware of Victor’s behavior.

"I know." Gerritt rubbed his temples, and chose his next few words carefully. "This is a contentious issue, even in the Infernalis. Among those who are aware of Victor’s behavior, many of them find his actions to be revolting. However, the others believe that sometimes, it is necessary to make some compromises, Melas."

"You told me that before. But this isn’t a compromise— it’s just wrong," I stated my position clearly.

"Perhaps in a certain lens, yes. But consider this: if we rejected Victor— left him to his own devices. He would still do what he’s been doing, no?"

"But that’s…" I hesitated, as I realized where the Dark Commander was going with this. He continued.

"It’s still wrong, and the outcome remains the same," he agreed at first, before adding. "Except, if he were a Dark Crusader, the Infernalis could direct his actions. Prevent him from indiscriminately harming every young woman, to only harming our enemies. And we can even limit how often he does it too.

"In fact, that is what we’ve done; after all, a compromise requires both sides to make concessions. This way, the outcome is different. It’s wrong, but less so. And we help protect those who could fall victim to Victor."

He finished, although he did not look wholly satisfied with his own argument.

My jaw worked slowly. "But you’re sacrificing the rest."

"No," he said simply. "We’re saving those we can."

I looked at Gerritt, unable to say anything; if there was a hole in his argument, I could not see it. And yet, there was something there. I did not know what that ‘thing’ was, but I could feel it. It was… wrong.

"So you’re not going to stop him?"

"I want to help you, but it’s not possible." He shook his head. "Ignoring the fact that he’s also receiving special treatment, Victor is a Dark Acolyte. You’ll make an enemy of all the Dark Crusaders if you try anything foolish."

I clenched my fists and spoke indignantly. "But my mom— the Fiend’s my mother."

"That does not matter. It does not grant you any kind of special immunity. Listen, Melas." The Orc spoke clearly. "The Infernalis may be the leadership of the Dark Crusaders, but they are not a single monolithic entity. Some people within the Infernalis admire and respect your mother, but others do not."

"Why not? Wasn’t she in the… Shadow’s Evangelium?" I tilted my head to the side.

"Yes, she was." Gerritt nodded. "But not everyone looks upon the Shadow’s Evangelium so favorably. They made many mistakes. Each attempt at rectifying their mistakes only led to more failures. After a while— whether it was out of frustration or something else— their actions became so drastic and extreme it was clear they were only heading towards the path of destruction. The Dark Crusaders may have been born from the remains of the Evangelium, but that does not mean we will excuse their shortcomings."

That made sense; even my mom tried to distance herself from the Shadow’s Evangelium. She rarely ever talked about them to me. I was nodding along when Gerritt added.

"And..." he hesitated.

I parroted him. "And?"

He shifted uncomfortably on his feet. Then he murmured. "There are… rumors. Or speculation. That the reason why the Shadow’s Evangelium fell, was because… of your mother."

"Why—" I cut myself off. I did not care about that; not at this moment. "That doesn’t matter though."

"But it does matter," he countered. "Hrmph, some people think your mother betrayed the Evangelium. That she was the cause of its downfall. They’re a minority, but they do exist. They don’t trust you. I’m sure they are waiting to pounce on you if you show any weakness. And if you were to act against our cause, even just a little bit, I’m sure they would call you a traitor, just like your mother."

I stepped back, affronted. "I’m not going to betray anyone!"

"I know, I believe you. But these are the facts. I can only offer you support. But other than that, there is nothing you and I can do."

I looked at the Orc— really looked at him; he seemed upset, bothered by what he was asking of me. And yet, he still did it.

Was he pitying me? Trying to manipulate me? Or did he truly care for me? I did not know. I was overwhelmed, and so I whirled around and began to leave. Gerritt tried calling after me.

"Melas, wait! What are you going to—"

"I’m sorry, Gerritt. I just need some time to think," I spoke over him. "But I’m not going to keep quiet about this. This… it’s wrong. The others— they have to know."

The Orc wavered, and he did not stop me. "Just… don’t do anything you’ll regret," he said, as I exited the room.

I mumbled under my breath.

"Don’t worry, I won’t. I’m not an idiot."

Ihsan was not back yet, but I found Karna after a while. The Goblin seemed tired and was probably heading to bed— considering the events of today— but I still told him about what happened. What I saw.

Maybe I should have waited until tomorrow, when he was less exhausted; however I could not wait. I had to rant. Vent out my anger to someone who would not justify letting Victor do as he pleased.

At first, I felt vindicated; Karna was appalled when he heard about it, although he was not surprised. He expressed abhorrence similar to mine.

"Hm, I knew I never liked him. He is strong, but he does not carry himself the way one should."

"It’s terrible, right?" I asked meekly, just to confirm whether he agreed with me.

"Indeed," Karna said with a frown. "The Dark Acolyte’s reasoning is flawed; there is no justice in his actions, only pleasure. It is unacceptable."

"I know!" I exclaimed. Then I buried my face into my hands. "It’s disgusting… but when I told Gerritt about it, he told me we have to compromise. That it’s better this way," I said with a sigh.

The Goblin jerked. "The Commander knows about this?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Yes, Gerritt— and some of the Infernalis— are letting Victor do whatever he wants. Just as long as he does it to their enemies, it’s fine. But it’s not! It can’t be. You can’t excuse something so vile just because it benefits you."

"But that’s…" Karna hesitated. He lowered his head, an overcast expression on his face. "No, I do not understand the reasoning behind that. The Infernalis should not be allowing this."

He placed a hand on my shoulder, and I smiled for a moment; I was glad there was at least someone who agreed with me here. But I pushed the feeling aside, focusing on the task at hand.

"So what do we do, Karna?" I asked.

"I am… not sure."

"What do you mean? Is there really nothing we can do?" I asked pleadingly.

"If the Infernalis refuses to stop Disciple Victor, we can’t stop him," he said. I was about to protest, but he raised a finger and spoke over me. "But, that does not mean we stay idle. There is still one thing we can do, Melas."

I raised an eyebrow at that. "And that is?"

"We change the Infernalis," Karna stated.

"What?"

"The Infernalis is the one that is willing to overlook people like Victor. He may be an exception, but tell me: is he the only one?" He cocked a brow as he quizzed me.

The realization hit me and my eyes widened. "There are more like Victor?"

"Exactly," Karna said, his eyes glowing more than just its usual yellow. "This is not an isolated problem. There is no single unique individual in the world, and the Dark Crusaders have very many members. So the chances that he is the only Dark Acolyte receiving this special treatment is incredibly low. I’m not saying every Dark Acolyte is treated that way, but there has to be at least dozens more like him."

Karna had to be right; things like this might not always have been endemic, but it certainly was not the only time it happened. "So what can we do? How do we change the Infernalis?"

"We have to get stronger, of course."

"How would that help?" My lips curled downwards into a frown. "Are you suggesting we kill him?"

"No"— the Goblin stared at me with a blank face— "Absolutely not, why would you even think that?"

He sighed as I shuffled my feet uncomfortably at my own suggestion.

"If we become stronger, we can become a part of the Infernalis. There, we can change it from the inside. Fix all the problems within the Dark Crusaders. Not just with this, but there are many flaws— problems that need to be addressed— that are left unaddressed. I’ve always believed in doing that."

"But that’s… how long will that take?" I asked, even though I already knew the answer.

"It will take time," he said. "But, if we become an Apostle, we’ll be part of the Infernalis and able to enact change. Convince others to listen to us. And do more than what we’re doing right now. And it could even take less time, since some Disciples are allowed into the Infernalis too. It depends. But it’s all the same in the end."

"So what do we do until then? Just let it continue happening? Do I just ignore what’s going on right in front of me?" I glared at Karna, as I waited expectantly for his response.

He looked down at his palms, and slowly balled it into a fist. "These injustices, they should not— no, they can not— be tolerated. It reviles me, knowing that people like Victor are committing such acts while pretending to be a Dark Crusader. And it angers me, knowing that my people are treated with contempt across the world too. But all these feelings— I use it to give me strength. To make me stronger, so I can do something about it."

He wanted to fix the problem from the inside, and prevent it from happening again. It made sense: that would help a lot of people. But still, that solution did not satisfy me.

"I don’t think I can do that, Karna. It’s… too much for me."

The Goblin walked up to me, and placed a hand on my shoulder. "Then I’ll give you the strength you need. After all, we’re friends, right?"

I stared at Karna, and I saw his resolve, his determination to do what he believed was right. And I agreed with him. I was grateful to him for trying to help. So I smiled. But…

There is still something.

Later that night, I could not sleep. I tossed and turned in bed, even though I knew it never helped with falling asleep. I could not stop thinking about that young woman— the Captain in charge of Fort Conon.

I was nothing like her: she was a soldier, while I was a slave; she was from this world, while I was from another; she had been raped, while I have only had nightmares of it. And yet, I felt for her.

It was not because she was a girl. There was more to this than being the same sex as her. And it certainly was not because we were both Humans. If I found a Beastkin or a Goblin in the same situation, I knew I’d be as equally reviled.

It was like torture. But even torture had a goal. This was senseless torture. An act only to derive pleasure for Victor.

There was no logic behind it; no justifications for it.

Gerritt told me to compromise. To give up some of my values to benefit as many people as possible. I could see his logic in that.

Karna told me to change the Dark Crusaders. Climb my way up the hierarchy of the Infernalis, and end the system which enabled innocents from being hurt, obviating any future suffering. I could see the justification behind that. But there was something still there. Something which I saw, that they did not. And that was:

Victor. And he stood over a young woman and—

I saw the young woman suffering, but they didn’t. In a literal and figurative sense, they did not see what I saw. That allowed them to see something else— to gain a different perspective from me.

But I saw what I saw.

I liked Gerritt, Karna, Ihsan, and I had liked even Victor— despite his actions. I had to change him. Maybe with a compromise. Whatever it was, I just had to stop him from doing it ever again.

So if a compromise was necessary, then let Gerritt compromise. If change was necessary, then let Karna bring about change.

They were not wrong; they were right in their own way.

And I was right too. She was suffering. That was evinced by the look on her face.

So I had to stop it; put an end to her suffering. I was not an idiot. I was hoping— praying to any god who would listen to me— that this went smoothly. I knew that if this went badly, I would make an enemy out of the Dark Crusaders.

But still, I have to help her, I told myself.

Help her? Why would I do that?

Because I can help her.

But why?

To help her.

It was a circular reasoning; flawed in many ways. But she was right in front of me.

I couldn’t help it. I had to do something.

And as I stood alone amongst the growing fire; as the young woman and the other prisoners made their escape; as Victor stepped into the burning building, approaching me with unbridled rage, I finally knew...

It was the right decision.

Chapter 37: The Right Decision

I stood amidst the flames as the wooden building collapsed around me. The fire was scorching through the entire structure, tearing down the walls of the dungeon.

It was hot. Raging. Burning. But it did not touch me. It engulfed everything in its path, but was staved away by my magic.

I could have left. I could have joined the young woman and the other prisoners when I freed them. They looked apprehensive; slightly afraid of me. But they were grateful. They were even willing to bring me with them.

And yet, I chose not to go with them.

Instead, I stood here. Because I was waiting.

I was not going to run. I made my decision, and I was going to stick to it. So I waited.

And he came.

***

Victor was annoyed.

What should have been some good alone time was quickly soured the moment Melas found him. She got mad at him, and stormed off— ignoring everything he had to say!

The problem was that she should not have been there.

It was not his fault that she was there. He had made it explicitly clear that he was not to be disturbed. But because Gerritt was incompetent, the Dark Acolyte now lost favor with the girl.

Everything he did to get her to join the Dark Crusaders was now ruined because of that. He had already told some of his higher ups in the Infernalis that Melas was going to be under his tutelage, which would’ve elevated his position more. But now, they would think he was a fool.

Victor had to deal with that. Somehow. Someway. He would have to get Melas to see things from his perspective. After all, what he was doing was not wrong.

It was vengeance. A noble goal. One that was worth pursuing in life.

That Captain was probably a slaver. This was the Free Lands, after all. And even if she wasn’t one, she enforced rules that protected slavery. It was prevalent here, right? And if it wasn’t, she definitely subscribed to the belief that magic was evil. If a spellcaster were being persecuted in front of her, Victor was certain she would simply let it happen. So Melas should be grateful to him for exacting justice against her.

The Captain deserved this. They deserved this. And more than that, if he was allowed to feel pleasure in doing good, then was that not better?

Victor was not to blame. He knew that, despite Melas’s chagrin. He just had to get her to see it his way. That was what he thought when he went to sleep.

But when he woke up, his mood only worsened.

There was… a fire?

Yes. The smell of smoke, soot, and ash came into his room. That should not have been unusual— they were burning the bodies of the dead. But this felt different. It felt like… magic.

Magical flames roared in the distance, and Victor could sense it. Fire ran ablaze, and was continuously being fed by someone’s magic. It burned more than it should have burnt. Bigger than it should have been.

And the Dark Acolyte could feel it only growing larger. Because it was not a natural fire, but one started and exacerbated by magic. And still, this should not have been much of a problem.

However, where it came from— now that was a problem.

Victor ran out of his room, out into the courtyard of Fort Conon. He saw Goblins streaming out of the large stone structure too, confused by what they were sensing and smelling, with eyes widening at what they were seeing.

A fire raged at one of the buildings. It was not the main body of the fortress. That was not flammable as it was made of stone and brick. Instead, the dungeon was completely engulfed in flames.

The Dark Acolyte stared. His brows snapped together, shock written all over his face. Then it slowly changed, morphing into that of anger at the realization of what happened.

"Gerritt. Where is Melas?!"

Victor stormed past the Goblins surrounding the Commander. He shoved aside a disbelieving Karna, and shouted.

"The Fiend’s daughter, where is she?" He pointed at the burning building. "And what happened? Who did this?!"

Gerritt straightened, and faced the young man. "She’s not here. I—" The Orc hesitated, but eventually continued. "I have not seen her. But I got reports. From the guards at the prison."

"What did they say? Hurry up and tell me!" Victor nearly screamed.

"It was… Melas." There were a few gasps, and Karna’s head snapped up. But Victor did not look surprised.

"They said she came in, and threatened them," Gerrit said. "Chased them out, taking the keys to free the prisoners— all of them." He emphasized the last part.

Karna spoke up uncertainly. "She wouldn’t do that. Melas wouldn’t betray us—"

Victor interrupted him. "Where is she now? She couldn’t have gotten far."

"We don’t think she left with the prisoners. I think… she’s in there," Gerritt said. Then he faced the young man. "The prisoners have a head start, and I’m not sure if we can get all of them back. If they— what are you doing?"

Victor ignored Gerritt. He was already walking away. Towards the fire. Towards the burning building. Towards Melas.

"Victor," the Orc called out. "With all due respect, I think there are other things we should focus on. If we don’t stop all the prisoners from escaping, we’ll be compromised and forced to leave in a few days. We should either take what we can and return to our camp before Ihsan and the others—"

"Be silent," the Dark Acolyte snapped. "Leave me. Go and return to the camp and wait for me— that’s an order."

Gerritt paused. He frowned, narrowing his eyes. "...affirmative. But, what are you going to do?"

"She betrayed us," Victor said simply, his calm voice hiding his intense fury. "Look at what she has done. That Fiend’s daughter. It’s as you said, she ruined everything. And now you ask me what I’m going to do? Isn’t it obvious?"

Victor stopped only to look at Gerritt for a moment. He opened his mouth and spoke one word.

"Vengeance."

Then he stepped into the raging flames.

Victor came, wading through the fire. It was not hard— he specialized in fire magic, even if he were still a generalist. He raised his staff, and the flames kept back. Almost as if the blazing inferno itself were afraid of him.

But he was not afraid of her. He saw the child standing in the middle of the burning room. The black haired girl was waiting. Her silver eyes flickered up at him.

"Victor," she spoke softly. And yet, it was clearly audible despite the roaring fire in the background. "We need to—"

She was cut off as the fire danced. Then it snapped at her. Almost as if it were some kind of a whip. She stepped back, and pointed at the fire.

The Dark Acolyte felt his control over the fire disappear. The flames dissipated in the air. Like fire without fuel, flying through a vacuum before getting snuffed out.

Dispel Magic?

Victor narrowed his eyes. He slowly lowered his staff, as the girl continued, voice full of desperation.

"Victor, please," Melas pleaded. "I need to speak with you."

"You need to speak with me?" he asked, almost amused. He slowly brought one hand behind his back as he continued. "After betraying us, do you really think you have the right to do that?"

"Yes," she answered without hesitation. Her gaze bore into him, and she stood firm. "I freed the prisoners. But only to save them so they won’t suffer because of you."

"Suffer?" Victor laughed. "They only got what they deserved. They. Are. Slavers. The same one that did that to you."

He gestured at her face. And she instinctively winced. But she continued.

"You don’t know that. You know nothing about them or what they’ve done, and you’re delivering their sentence? Claiming that it is justice? That’s… wrong."

"Wrong?" Victor shook his head. "Pathetic," he spat. "Is that really what you’re going for? After I saved your life— helped you through so much— this is how you repay me? You really are all the same, aren’t you?"

Melas grimaced. But she ignored that end comment.

"Victor, you saved my life. I was beaten down and had nothing at that point, but you gave me a home. A place to stay. I truly am grateful for that. That’s why I wanted to make it up to you— but this?" she said slowly, gesturing vaguely behind her. "I can’t allow it."

"Allow it? And who, pray tell, asked for your permission?"

"Nobody," she said. "But I won’t stand idly by as I watch someone get hurt. I’ve had that happen to me too many times, and I hate it. That’s why I freed them. And that’s why I want to speak with you— to ask you to stop what you’ve been doing."

The Dark Acolyte cocked a brow. He sighed deeply, and looked away from her.

"Ah, but Melas," he started, "you don’t seem to realize that although no one asked for your permission, I told you not to interfere."

Victor pulled out his other hand. The one he was hiding behind his back. A glowing magic circle was already fully formed on it. Then it expanded rapidly as he said the spell’s name.

"Fireball."

"Wh—"

A dense red sphere of flame shot out. The girl raised a hand, but she could not dispel it in time. That was the beauty of keeping a spell at the ready. It drastically lessened the time required to cast it. Victor was glad he chose not to teach her how to do that. She could only react by sending a Magic Missile back at him.

The ball of energy impacted the Fireball mid air. But it was far weaker. The explosion blew in the direction of Melas and Victor grinned as she went flying back.

The blast slowly cleared, with wisps of smoke dancing away to join the raging storm of gas gather atop. Victor squinted as he saw something glowing. It was not the orange glow of fire, but a blue color. The signature color of pure magical energy.

The Force Barrier protected the girl. It was cracked, already breaking apart. And it finally collapsed a moment after Victor saw it. Yet it still took the brunt of the attack. Melas got up as he looked on in disbelief.

"I don’t want to fight you. I just want to… compromise. That’s all. Please."

The Dark Acolyte stopped to think. He raised his head for a moment. Then he lowered it back down.

"No."

Flaming projectiles flew at Melas. They came from all around the room. From the raging fire that surrounded them.

She started in a panic. She dodged to the side, sidestepping the volley of attacks.

"I’m not asking for much," she said, panting heavily as she kept moving. " I just don’t want you to hurt others without a reason. It’s not right."

"It’s revenge," Victor said nonchalantly. "You, yourself, wanted it."

A bolt of fire struck Melas on the shoulder. She flinched. It was not a light singe— almost a third-degree burn.

She rolled under the hail of Firebolts, as she sent her own bolts of energy back at Victor. He only grinned as he dodged her attacks with ease.

"If you believed revenge to be without suffering then you are the fool, Melas. I am not at fault for your error in judgement."

"I know," she said. "It’s obvious— revenge is bad. There are so many stories which say the same thing. But I forgot about that. I was a fool."

Victor scoffed.

"Stories are not real life. And these ideas are perversions of the Goddess by the Church."

"I’m not talking about your stories." Melas shook her head. "But none of that matters. I wanted revenge because I lost my reason to live. Because my mother died, and I was bound and broken. She was the world to me and I had become a slave. I needed something to cling on to. But I realize now that that is not what I want, nor is it what I need."

"So because you’re an enlightened child now, you believe revenge is wrong?" Victor asked sardonically. "Congratulations, but I disagree. I was wronged, and I deserve my justice."

There was a crackle, as the flames raged on around them.

"I know, I know," she sighed. "And I won’t stop you from getting your… revenge. If you’re going to kill someone who has terribly wronged you, then I will let you. I won’t condone it, but I can understand where you’re coming from. It’d be hypocritical for me to condemn you for that."

The girl took a deep breath, then she continued.

"But what you’re doing is not even revenge anymore. It’s pointless, unnecessary suffering. You’re hurting those whom you’ve never met before, just to feel better about yourself. That is not right."

"Do I not deserve to feel good? To be happy. What is the point of living if you are not content? Why must I suffer while the world goes on to enjoy itself without me?"

"Perhaps," Melas hesitated. What she spoke next was not some sage wisdom. But it was the natural instinct ingrained into every living being in the world. "Living is its own reward. It is not wrong to want more in life— to seek some sort of self-fulfillment. But there’s nothing wrong with simply being alive either."

"Ah, of course. What a beautiful philosophy," Victor remarked. "And you want me to assimilate into your world view."

"No— I just want you to stop doing this. For you to change. I can’t agree with it. There’s nothing more to this than that. And I’m willing to do anything at all for it. Help you get further up in the Infernalis, or just disappear if you don’t want me around. Anything at all— just a compromise so you’ll stop. That’s all."

A burning wooden beam crashed into the ground from above, but neither man nor child reacted. Melas stood her ground, meeting his eyes.

The Dark Acolyte waved his hand in the air. "And I suppose you’re going to try and stop everyone else you disagree with too? By talking to them and making countless compromises."

"Only those I can." Melas took a step forward. "And I’ll... kill if I must. But I believe in you, Victor. You’re not a bad person."

"I am not, indeed," he agreed. "But do you really think you can stop the Holy Xan Empire? The Dark Crusaders? All the powers in the world. If they’re committing what you believe are, ah, wrong? Are you going to fight them all? How are you planning to defeat the world? How are you going to change it all?"

"I’m not saying I’m right. And I’m not going to challenge everyone in the world. I just want to live. I want to live free from suffering and free from a guilty conscience. So if I see anything truly wrong, I’ll try and stop it."

Melas paused for a moment. She considered her next words carefully.

"And there’s this thing, from my— where I come from. They’re called [Witches]. They’re considered evil and ugly, just because they do magic. If someone thinks you’re a [Witch], they’d burn you at the stake. But that’s in the past. Now they aren’t seen that way anymore. They just… do magic. Whether it’s good or evil, depends on who it is. Just like everyone else in the world. So it’s possible for things… to change. But I can’t just let evil happen in front of me."

"How naive," he said. "That’s nothing more than a fantasy."

"But it’s true," Melas said firmly. "Things can change. And they always do. That’s just how life works."

"I’d be inclined to believe you, Melas. If not for your lapse in judgement."

She blinked. "What’s that?"

Victor grinned savagely.

"You can’t stop me."

He lunged forward, as Melas backed up. She sent a dozen flaming arrows flying at him, but they bounced harmlessly off a barrier.

He pointed his staff at her as her eyes widened. A blade of wind shot out at her. It moved fast. Almost impossibly so. The girl barely reacted in time, ducking out of the way.

The Wind Blade briefly cut a path through the fire, before striking the back wall. For a second, the wall stood strong. Then it collapsed entirely.

Parts of the roof rained down around the two of them. But Victor ignored all of it. He sent a gust of air at Melas, sending her back.

She tried stepping to the side, but it still clipped her. She stumbled, caught herself, and was knocked back by Victor’s staff.

Melas fell into the fire. It gave way for her as she found her back against a wall. The Dark Acolyte followed after her. The flames rose, enveloping them as he stopped right in front of her.

The girl tried circling around him. "I don’t want to kill—"

The fire behind Victor stopped rising. And suddenly, it rushed forwards at her. But she was ready for it. She aimed the direction of the magic circle, and it vanished.

The Flame Wall dispersed, and Victor clicked his tongue.

"How troublesome."

He found that annoying— not because she was negating his attacks, but because she should not have been able to do that. He was the superior at spellcaster— her Dispel Magic should have failed against him.

Yet it worked.

So Victor ran forwards, a ball of flames building on the palm of his hand. But Melas pointed yet again, and it, too, dissipated. However, this time, he was expecting that.

He brought his hands down, balling it into a fist, and punched the little girl. She barely saw it coming. She ducked under the fist, trying to pivot around him—

And was kneed in the face.

She flew back, landing prone on the ground, The Dark Acolyte was on her in an instant. She tried getting up, but his staff smashed her across the stomach.

"Take that you, little—"

Victor pulled back for another swing., and saw a flash of light. A snare wrapped around him. His arms stuck to his sides.

"Victor, if you don’t—"

The bindings vanished. Melas blinked. The magic circle glowing on Victor’s hands faded away.

"You’re not the only one who can do that trick," he sneered.

Then he kicked her.

Melas tried to crawl away, but he was all over her. Victor grabbed her arm, stopping her from escaping. She tried raising her other hand. But he was prepared for it this time. He would dodge the snare—

And he did dodge. But he froze for a second. For it was not a snare or even a Magic Missile that came flying at him. Instead, a Fireball whizzed past his face, exploding the roof, collapsing even more of the building.

How?

Victor snarled. He grabbed the girl’s other arm, and headbutted her. She recoiled in pain, as he pinned her down.

How is she doing this?

He held the struggling girl. She was so weak. Why was she able to cast spells so easily? Why was she able to overpower his magic and dispel it like it was nothing while he had to struggle to do the same to her?

"I will kill you."

That was right. He miscalculated. He thought he could use Melas to rise up in the Infernalis. But that was a mistake; she was only going to bring him down. Even without freeing his prisoners, she would have made him look weak— bring his place in the Dark Crusaders down.

Victor brought his hands to her neck. The girl gasped for air, trying to pull him off. But she was still a child. And even if she had the strength of an adult, his grip was too tight. She was going to die here.

The young man callously stared down at her. She reminded him of Elena. So childish. So foolish. And only ever a burden to him.

He watched her punch weakly at his chest and he wanted to laugh. But suddenly, he paused. For a moment, he saw the fear in the girl’s eyes. He saw his own reflection in her silver eyes. He saw himself, as he stared down at her, grinning like a madman.

Victor hesitated. He thought his grip would loosen for a moment. But instead, it tightened. Harder than it ever was before.

"No," he said softly to himself. "I spared Elena because I was weak. But not anymore. You die tonight."

He was a Dark Acolyte. An exemplary student of magic. He learned from his mistakes.

As much as it pained him to do this. He had to. It only made sense. If he wanted to get his revenge on those who have wronged him, he had to get rid of every obstacle in his path. And Melas was one of them.

He did not want to. Truly he did not. But it was necessary. Logical. It made sense.

And yet, he felt pain. Pain in his chest. A warm feeling in his heart.

It was a weakness. One that would go away.

He told himself the feeling would go away.

Eventually.

He just had to get the job done.

.

.

.

It did not go away.

The pain in his chest stayed. The warm liquid continued dripping off the wound on his heart.

"H-hgh..."

Victor stumbled back. And the sharp feeling— no, the sharp object went away. Melas drew back her dagger as she clasped at her neck, coughing and panting.

"H-h— wh—"

Victor tried to speak. But nothing came out. Where did that dagger come from? He did not know. He did everything right. He won that fight! She should not have had that! He did not give it to her. He should’ve killed her.

Unless…

Someone else gave it to her.

That was right. Someone gave Melas a weapon to fight with. He did not know that. So it was not his fault he did not consider this. It was the fault of whoever gave her the dagger. It was their fault for not telling him.

He was not to blame.

The young man collapsed on the ground. And he saw the girl turn away from him. For a moment. But she mustered the courage to face him.

And as she looked at him with pitiful eyes. All he could do was curse her. And curse whoever it was who gave her the dagger. And finally, curse the world for letting him die.

Everything was to blame.

Everyone else was at fault.

Everyone.

Except for him.

***

I watched Victor as he slowly bled out. As the fire around me slowly stopped burning. The ceiling collapsed, and the silver moonlight of the night sky was the only thing illuminating the night.

And then—

I threw up.

I could not hold it in anymore, and I vomited in disgust. But I wiped away the bile and saliva from my mouth. And that was it.

I did not cry; I was not going to cry anymore. And if I did, it was not for Victor. I thought he was a good person— that he could have changed. But he did not.

So I did not mourn him. The only thing I mourned was the outcome— that he did not change. Maybe in some alternate reality, we managed to reach a compromise. And I could return to the Dark Crusaders; maybe face a punishment for freeing the prisoners, but nothing more than that.

Karna would be mad at me for a few days, but we’ll make up eventually. Gerritt would express sympathy for me, and Ihsan would not care too much. While Victor would train me as a Dark Crusader. To maybe become a Dark Sage.

However, it did not happen.

It was only another thing that never came to be. Just like if I never ran from Rin, Shang, Theodore, and the others. If I stayed with them, maybe they would have protected my secret.

It was just another possibility in this world of endless possibilities.

I hesitated for a moment. If my mom never died—

It would not have been a happily ever after. She and I would have been on the run from Inquisitors and the Church. But at least we’d be together— and that was all that mattered to me back then.

Now, however, I was alone again.

And I was not the same person as I would have been in those alternate realities. I had different priorities. Different goals. So I gathered whatever I could from the fort and from Victor’s body, and walked away.

There was no one to stop me. Fort Conon was completely deserted. I stumbled out of the broken gates that were haphazardly repaired, and out into the darkness.

Live.

That was what I wanted. I realized that when I was a slave.

Live, and help whoever you can.

I made that decision when I saved Karna. When I gave him my freedom in a bottle.

It was a simple goal. Not grand. Maybe not even good.

But it was enough for me.

And as the darkness of the night crept up on me; as I trudged through the forest, surrounded by only shadows; something in me shone.

There was something. Inside of me. Outside of me. Beyond me. And it all came to me.

I fell on my knees as the light glowed brighter. As the magic circle formed around me. It lit up the night with its blue light.

Only at first.

Then it shifted.

Its color changed. From blue, to red. From red, to purple. It increased in intensity. The lines in the circle weaving into itself, forming nebulous symbols I wouldn’t recognize. And then it blurred.

It was no longer a shape on my feet. It engulfed me like a sphere. The purple lines crossed around me. Forming a three dimensional design. I saw the world dying around me. Outside of the magic circle, grass, trees, and bushes all began to wilt as minutes passed.

I did not want that. So I pulled it all back in— back towards me. It stopped expanding as I slowly reached deep inside me.

Then one of the purple lines touched me, and—

I shone.

Where it connected to my body, the purple lines spread out. It forked off multiple times, going around me, until it covered me in my entirety. It was…

A miracle.

I felt everything grow lighter; as if all the stress and worries I had momentarily vanished. And I touched something. Not inside of me. It was… beyond me?

No. I did not understand what it was. But it felt so close, yet so far.

Then the purple lines. The magic circle. Everything began to move. It began to shrink, warp, change into something else.

At first, I was in a lot of pain. More than I had ever felt before. But the feeling went away, and I felt more alive than I had ever been before.

And when I looked down, all I saw was a light. A light so bright, it reflected the world on it; I could see myself in that silvery light.

I closed my eyes, and I could still see it. It calmed me. Made me feel powerful. It healed me.

I exhaled slowly, reveling in the moment. But just for a moment.

Because, after that moment passed, it was gone. The light vanished. I was all that was left.

I opened my eyes, and looked around. There was only the moon and the night surrounding me. But I knew that I was stronger. I knew that I was finally free.

And that from this moment on, I was going to live.

I watched the night turn into day. I watched the sun replace the moon. The dark blue skies brightened overhead into something new. Into a brighter day.

So I picked myself up, and finally entered the world.

The End of

PART THREE

Chapter 38: Interlude III - The Saint

"In the beginning, there was evil."

The voice echoed throughout the building. A man stood in front of the vast crowd, and spoke with an intensity that entranced every single person in the room.

"The world was black, empty of naught but suffering. Humans, Elves, Dwarves, and all the other species in the world— yes, even the Demons and all the animals and Monsters— lived together in this eternal torture. There was no hope. No good. No light."

The crowd stayed silent. They bowed, and lifted a candle up above their heads, lighting up the room. The man continued.

"Then the Goddess came. She illuminated the world with her radiance. Liberated every living creature from their Damnation with Her light. She shone and lit the world anew. So that the world would become good.

"She gave us dominion over all things. She gave us the power to moveth upon this world as though it were our own. She made us rulers of this land, and left us, returning back to Eden. Where all who die would forever be restored unto Her."

Heads rose, but their hands stayed in place. The crowd solemnly looked up at the man.Their candles flickering in the darkness, hundreds of tiny flames keeping the room alight. Then the man spoke out, and his voice reverberated in the silence.

"But before She departed, She told us to be good rulers. To rule the world with grace and light. For if we were evil. For if we were to abuse our authority, and bring about great suffering upon this world, She would cast us back to Damnation. To a world where we would once again face eternal torture."

The man looked around the room. He saw all the faces staring back at him. And he nodded, seemingly satisfied.

He lifted up his own candle, and with a quick blow, put out the fire. The crowd followed him, the room slowly darkening as they did. Then the man finished.

"May the Goddess illuminate your lives."

And the lights turned back on. The darkness lasted only for a moment. The light crystals along the walls and ceiling flickered, now shining brightly.

With that, the silence ended. Murmurs broke out throughout the crowd, as they began to disperse. Various conversations were held at once. But the man stayed standing on his podium. And as the crowd left, he added one last thing.

"So as you go about your day, please remember to be good. To treat your neighbors kindly, and help those in need. For that is the will of the Goddess."

Some people stayed. Although most of the crowd exited the building, a few individuals remained to speak with the man.

The man greeted them all warmly. They came to him asking for help, seeking advice, and the man offered them what he could. Kind words. Genuine care for their problems. They took the man’s words to heart, and thanked him for his help. Then they, too, left the temple.

The man thought he was finished. He was about to turn around and leave as well, when the last person came up to him. But this person was not like the others.

"Reverend Caius, it’s good to see you." The visitor walked up to Caius with a familiarity that the others did not have. He paused and corrected himself. "Or is it Bishop, now? Congratulations. I’m sorry that I was not there to celebrate your appointment."

The visitor stood in sharp contrast with the Bishop. While Caius was short, rotund, and balding from reaching his early 50’s, the visitor stood tall, handsome, and with a head full of blonde-golden hair. But that did not matter to either of them.

Caius spread his arms out, and smiled.

"Saint Theron! How have you been!"

Theron smiled back and embraced the Bishop. They held the hug for a moment, as they spoke. "Come now, Bishop Caius. You know you don’t have to be so formal with me."

"Same to you, Saint. You’ve grown so much since I last saw you." Caius clasped Theron’s shoulders. "How long has it been? Two— three years? It’s been far too long!"

"Indeed it has. I’m sorry I haven’t had the time to visit you. I’ve been busy with missions, so I haven’t been in Xanderia as often. But now, we’ll be able to frequently meet up again," Theron reassured the older man.

"Ah, of course. The duties that come with being a Saint. It seems like it was only yesterday you were still the young rascal causing me trouble in the orphanage. Now look at you! I heard about what you did. Everyone knows about it! They were broadcasting it all across the country last week. You slayed the Fiend! You deserve your break, Theron!"

The Saint hesitated for a moment. He shifted uncomfortably, although the Bishop did not seem to notice. "I— thank you, Caius. But I feel as though I could have done better. Even with my miracles, my team... I wasn’t able to protect them. I was only able to save one."

"But you did save one, did you not?" Caius asked the question as he cocked a brow. "Even if you could not save the rest, you tried your best, and that’s what matters. But worry not, for now their souls shall rest with the Goddess."

Theron nodded. Then he took a deep breath, and spoke up. "About that, Bishop. I came here because I wanted to ask you about that."

"I’d have thought you kept up with your religious studies, Theron! I guess some habits die hard." The older man laughed. Then he saw the serious look on the Saint’s face. "...is something the matter?"

"Yes, it’s about the Fiend," the Saint sighed, and he asked his question. "I was wondering what happened to her soul. After she died. Does she… also return to the Goddess? Along with everyone else."

The Bishop blinked. He stroked his chin contemplatively, as he answered.

"Why, I do believe heretics are treated no different from sinners: they are judged on the weight of their sins. The less sinful one is, the sooner their souls will find their way back to the Goddess. But those who have committed grievous sins… the Goddess might never accept their souls. Certainly, one such as the Fiend might never be accepted by the Goddess. Not in the next thousand years, at least."

The Saint looked up. There was a flicker in his eyes, as he inquired again. "And there’s no exception to this rule?"

"Not that I know of." Caius shook his head. "But you should have already known this. Why the question?"

Theron paused. Then he just scratched his head and laughed. "Ah, I’ve just been so busy I must’ve forgotten. Thanks for reminding me."

The older man narrowed his eyes.

"If something’s bothering you—"

"Bishop Caius, your counsel is needed."

Both men turned around. A young woman dressed in robes bowed her head slightly at them. She regarded the Saint politely.

"Apologies for the interruption. But this is an urgent matter. The diocese is holding a meeting, and his presence is necessary for it."

Theron raised his hands and smiled. "It’s not a problem, Priestess...?"

"I am grateful for your patience, Saint." The young woman did not give her name. She kept her head down, as the Saint waited. Caius chimed in, and gestured at the woman.

"Saint Theron, this is Priestess Elenora. She’s a noble who gave up her title to join our parish because of… an unfortunate incident. Elenora, come, greet Saint Theron."

The Priestess raised her head slightly. "Saint Theron, it is an honor to meet you," she said softly.

"Likewise, Priestess Elenora." The man put out a hand, but she did not take it. She took a step back and bowed again.

"Bishop, if you will follow me." Elenora slowly turned, and slowly began to walk away.

Theron and Caius looked at each other, and the older man began to apologize. "I’m sorry about that. She has… problems when interacting with younger men. I assure you, she meant no disrespect."

"There’s no need to apologize, I understand..."

The Bishop nodded, and started to follow the young woman. But he paused. "Listen, Theron. If there’s anything…" he trailed off.

"I’m fine, Caius. Really," Theron said. The older man hesitated, but the Priestess was getting further and further away. The Saint added. "Thank you for asking. But it’s not a problem."

"I see." Caius acquiesced. "Well, it’s been good to meet you again after so long. Do visit this old man once in a while."

"I will," the Saint promised. "Although you’re not even that old."

They laughed, and bade farewell.

It seemed like a normal conversation at first. A reunion between two old friends. There was nothing else to it.

But Caius raised the boy. He was there when the boy told lies. He was there when the boy cried for his parents. He was also there when the boy did his first miracle. And Caius knew, despite the reassurances, that Theron had seen something that had truly shaken him.

That had shaken his beliefs.

What is a miracle?

Theron did not know. He thought he knew what it was. He was a Saint, after all.

Miracles were supposed to be powers bestowed by the Goddess on those who were good. Truly good. Not the kind of everyday good which most people were. But those who were exceptionally good— who exhibited all the virtues of the Goddess, would be given the power of a miracle.

Of course, there have been reports of regular people performing miracles. People who were not especially kind or just. Some of those reports were clearly fabrications, but others have had multiple eyewitnesses. And while it was easy to dismiss all of them as hoaxes since some were verifiably fake, further investigator showed one thing in common with them:

They were always suffering.

Like how a boy stuck underneath debris suddenly got the strength to dig himself out. How a woman lost at sea suddenly could swim to the nearest port. How an old man struck with illness suddenly recovered.

These were miracles. Indisputably, they had to have been miracles. But these people never could repeat what they did. So the Church came to a conclusion.

A regular person could do a miracle, as long as they were going through great suffering.

The Goddess was taking pity in the cruelty of their situation, and bestowed upon them temporary powers. The kinds that Saints and Saintesses had. But just to help them escape their situation. Once they were no longer suffering, they could not do a miracle again.

So theoretically, anyone could do a miracle. As long as they were a regular person and they were suffering. But the first qualifier mattered more than the second. Because although being a regular person meant you were not the kindest person in the world, it especially meant that you were not evil.

Which must then mean, that the Fiend was not evil.

That was the only conclusion Theron had come to after thinking about it over the past few months. The Fiend was good.

She had to be. She performed a miracle before his very eyes. She was dead, and yet she could still move. She could still speak. She could still love.

Theron was not a fool. He would not deny what he saw. If it was some sort of trick, the Fiend would have killed him. But she did not. She died there and then. Only that she somehow lived for a little bit longer to save her daughter had to have been an act of the Goddess.

And her daughter...

The Saint shook his head. There was no use worrying about it. She could be dead for all he knew. If not from Monsters, then from hunger and dehydration. And although she was probably dead, there was still a chance that she lived. Which was why he—

"Saint Theron," a voice called out to him.

The man jerked, and he looked up at the speaker.

"Fria," he greeted the red-headed woman standing in front of him.

The Inquisitor— the only surviving member of his team— saluted him. "I was told you needed to see me, Sir."

"Be at ease. This isn’t a formal meeting. You’re no longer under my command."

"Yes Sir— I mean, yes Saint." Fria relaxed. But her face still held a stiff look. Theron did not comment further, as he was used to her rigidity. "So, uh, why did you want to see me?" She looked around the courtyard as she spoke.

This was not a public space. It was the military wing of the Xan Palace. Various individuals dressed in decorated uniforms passed by, yet some still eyed Theron. He was, after all, a Saint.

"I just wanted to check up on you. How have you been feeling since you returned?" he asked.

The Inquisitor blinked. "Oh, I've been given a break by the Grand Inquisitor himself when he heard that we killed the Fiend. I’ve also been getting a lot of attention because of that. And I’ve been doing desk jobs, but I plan on taking up proper missions again soon since... " She paused, and fidgeted on her feet.

"It’s good to hear that you’re doing good"— Theron shook his head— "but there’s no rush for you to get back into the battlefield. Your first mission went horribly wrong, and only I am to blame for that."

"Don’t say that!" the young woman protested. "I’ve been getting credit for something I didn’t even do. I was… impatient, and because of that I couldn’t do anything."

"Exactly," the Saint agreed. "Now you know better than to be impatient. So don’t force yourself to do anything you’re not prepared to do yet. Your mission… was more than most Inquisitors ever have to deal with. Take your break, and don’t fret over it."

The redhead’s face loosened. A light shade of pink came over her face, and she nodded. "Yes, uh, thank you, Ther— Saint," she mumbled.

The man smiled. Then he changed the topic.

"How’s the boy doing?"

"Adrian?" Fria’s expression changed. Her slight grin turned into a scowl as she folded her arms. "He’s been nothing but trouble in the Academy. Keeps on picking fights, and I swear he only has one friend. But his grades are good, and you were the one who got him in, so he hasn’t been expelled... yet."

Theron looked at her as she complained with a raised eyebrow. Almost like… an older sister.

"That’s good," he remarked.

Fria frowned. "What’s good? That he gets into fights or that he’s almost expelled?"

"Neither. That he’s got a friend. And that he’s studying well."

"Well, I’m not even sure if they’re friends. Not for her, at least," the Inquisitor muttered under her breath. "But he’s one of the top in his class. Could be the top if not for history and language. He keeps questioning his teachers history, and he refuses to speak with manners. And he does struggle with reading the Venerable Language, since it’s his first time learning it. But why are you asking me this? Is he still… not talking to you?"

"I’m afraid not," Theron exhaled deeply. "I believe the last time we spoke was when we first boarded the flying ship. And I think that was an accident. He seems intent on not acknowledging me or my existence."

The young woman snorted. "He should be more grateful. I don’t know why he’s so stubborn."

"Who knows?" the Saint said. He closed one eye, and peeked at her. "Maybe he gets it from you?"

"Hey, wait, I’m not stubborn! I—"

Theron laughed as the redheaded woman protested. Then, after they finished speaking, they parted, and the Saint felt his smile fade away.

He enjoyed that moment of reprieve. Where he did not have to worry about what happened in Villamcreek. What the Fiend had said. And that’s not to mention the whole situation in the Free Lands—

Then the man bumped shoulders into someone. He spun around and began to apologize. "My apologies, I—" Then he froze.

"Hello Theron, what a coincidence to meet you here."

Another young woman regarded him. She smiled as she greeted him. The Saint did not return it.

"Saintess Lilith," he spoke coldly.

"Please, Theron. We’re friends, right? There’s no need to use titles here. Just call me Lilith." The Saintess put an arm out, and the man shook her hand after eyeing it for a moment.

"What are you doing here?" he asked, as he backed away from her.

"Here? I was just enjoying a stroll. The Xan Palace is lovely, don’t you agree? Named after the Great Hero Xander. Ever wonder why he named everything after himself? Sometimes, I think he might be a bit of a narcissist, you know? Just a little."

"No," Theron answered.

"No?" Lilith spoke innocently, as she tilted her head. "To what? That the founder of our Empire is a huge egomaniac, or that the Xan Palace isn’t a very nice place?"

"I did not ask why you’re here. I asked why you’re here. In Xanderia. You should be in the Gates of Hell."

"Oh!" the Saintess exclaimed as she pressed her cheeks with both hands. "You’re wondering why I’m not on Hell duty? That’s because they called me back."

"What? Explain."

"Come on, Theron. You’re being awfully rude to me. You know I hate demands," she said, and her eyes flashed.

They stared at each other for a moment, before she finally shrugged.

"But if you must know, I was doing my thing. Killing any of those Abomination-thingies that tried to cross the border. Keeping a tight lip on them, so word doesn’t spread about how these terrifying worse-than-Monsters have existed for decades, and could possibly overrun the world in a moment's notice. You know, so people don’t panic and start rioting and all that stuff. When suddenly, I get the news that these same Abominations popped up in the Free Lands and destroyed Bys, all because poor Theron failed his mission to stop the Cult."

"We did not fail. There was a complication," the Saint growled.

"Right, a complication. I wonder, what kind of complication leads you to where you enter a random village, kill their herbalist, orphaning a little girl."

"We did not just—" he cut himself off as he realized what Lilith had said.

Saintess Lilith leaned over to him, and winked. "Come now, did you really think I would not hear about this little girl that you oh, so conveniently, omitted from your reports? I thought you were an honest man, Theron. I’m sure you’ll get in a lot of trouble if people hear about this. It would certainly crush a lot of young women’s perception of you, the infallible, handsome Saint."

"...how did you find out?"

"It’s a secret. Unlike you, I know how to keep those." She grinned, then took a step back. "Anyways, to answer your original question: since you failed to catch those Devil worshippers and allowed them to unleash the Abominations on another continent, they called me back."

Theron stared at her, aghast.

"They’re sending you to Bys?"

"They’re sending me to clean up your mess. Which, the Grand Inquisitor, the Archbishop, and the Emperor seems to have forgotten just because you killed an innocent woman in her home."

He clenched his fists, but he ignored that comment. "But why would they send you? You’re supposed to—"

"It’s because of that, I’m the best for this job. Do you really think the Church cares about the Free Cities? Of course not. If it were up to them, both the Free Lands and the Abominations could be wiped from this world, and it would only be a better place."

Lilith waited for his reaction, and when he scowled, she laughed.

"They could’ve sent—"

She cut him off.

"Plus, I’ve been doing nothing but fighting Abominations for the last three years. Ever since it got too much for just Inquisitors or the Holy Knights to deal with. So, they’re sending me along with some Inquisitors on extermination duty. Then I’m supposed to return after that’s done."

Theron felt relieved at that. "Good," he said. "The sooner you return, the better. I don’t trust you, Saintess Lilith."

"Aw you’re hurting my feelings," she said merrily as she danced around him. "What? Are you worried that I’m going to disappear again? Don’t worry, they’ll probably send someone to keep an eye on me."

"Good," the Saint stated simply. He folded his arms, as she just stood in front of him, twirling her hair. "Was that all you wanted to say?" he harrumphed.

"Nope. I just remembered one thing." The woman clapped her hands together as if she just realized something. "I wanted to tell you something. That’s why I came looking for you!"

"Out with it already."

"Rude. I might not— but, actually… well, whatever. Since I’m nice, I’m going to tell you anyway."

She spoke nonchalantly as she leaned over his ear. The Saint tried to instinctively pull back, but stopped himself when he heard what she said.

"A black haired girl was spotted in the Free Lands. They say she was with the Dark Crusaders."

"I— what?!"

Theron nearly shouted. But the Saintess was already leaving.

"I’d love to stay and chat, but I’ve got to go now. Ta-ta. I’ll see you when I get back. Or not. Who knows, I might just decide to stay and investigate these rumors."

The Saint watched as she left, laughing. He stood, nearly speechless at what he just heard.

And for the first time since he was a child. Saint Theron. Worker of miracles. A man of virtues. The gifted young boy who was granted powers by the Goddess to uphold what was right—

Found himself not knowing what right was.

Author’s Note

I hope you all enjoyed my very first piece of written work. Yes, if you’ve read my other book, Salvos, this was written before that even though that had been published first. The themes for Melas are quite different from the themes I decided to focus on for Salvos, however I don’t particularly feel that one is better than the other.

My own interpretation of Abomination has a significant focus on escapism. One thing I’ve found quite ingrained in the isekai/portal fantasy genre is how much ‘better’ these fantasy worlds are usually supposed to be. So, the main driving force behind this book, for me, was ‘what if the fantasy world was just as bad as Earth?’.

I’m sure this is not the most novel idea, but it was pretty much what I was thinking of the entire time I wrote it. From being a withdrawn recluse in Villamcreek, to avoiding her problems as a slave, Melas is constantly running away from everything she faces in Abomination. But the end finally has her standing her ground, not running anymore.

Anyway, I hope you all take the time to leave a review or rating on Amazon. This is my first ever KDP Select book, and I look forward to seeing how it does!

To hear news about my books and Melas stuff, subscribe to my newsletter here: https://melasdnewsletter.ck.page/

Read More

From the same series:

The Witch: Melas Book 2

Demon’s Den: Melas Book 3

From the Deltaverse:

Salvos

The Netherworld: it is a hellish landscape inhabited only by demons, creatures born from the dark abyss. It is also the only world Salvos knows.

Joining the ranks of newborn demons, Salvos is thrown into the violent, anarchy-ruled landscape of that world. To survive, she will have to learn, she will have to adapt, and she will have to evolve. She will gain experience to reach new Levels of power.

Her curiosity aids her but her pride could be her fall. It is the nature of the Netherworld to avoid or conquer any threats faced. After all, the law of evolution is survival of the fittest, and Salvos is a survivor. And perhaps, eventually, she will leave this world behind for a better place. But is that what she even wants?

Do note that it's a slow-paced but action-packed litrpg!

This novel is an action-packed monster evolution litrpg fantasy following the adventures of a Demon girl! It is set inside a game-like world with Classes and Levels, but it is not inside the world of a video game. For the characters in the novel, the world is as real as the real world is to me and you. It is also technically an isekai, sort of a portal fantasy but not really, however I feel like it fits the genre well enough!

Curious Beginnings: Salvos Volume 1

A Demon’s Pride: Salvos Volume 2

The Plaguelands: Salvos Volume 3

***

Copyright © 2020 MelasD / V.A. Lewis