《Thorn-Cursed Cultist》


 Chapter 1 - Blessing

    Hooks held his eyes open.


    His hands were chained to the ceiling, clasped in forced prayer. Anger burned in his heart and made all other light dimmer. I won¡¯t die like this.


    ¡°Gerald of no family. Unrepentant, violent, self-flagellant, drunkard. We are gathered here to witness your expulsion into the Vast Underworld.¡±


    Father Ache spoke into flickering candlelight. The church was gloomy. Its pews were crammed full of gnarled worshippers whose faces no longer resembled the townspeople Gerald knew and had ranted to. They¡¯re like vultures. Sharp-beaked and hungry.


    He tried to spit on Father Ache¡¯s hand, but the man gestured grandly at the last instant.


    ¡°Still, we will send you laden with gifts! Let none say that the Emissaries are unmerciful to the sinners and the lost.¡±


    Applause broke out in the sect chapel. Gerald turned pleading eyes on every smile.


    Something was materializing from the shadows on the ceiling. A mass of leathery hands, fluttering wings¡ªnot feathered, but those of a stinging insect¡ªand elbows in triplicate. Gerald wished to stop seeing.


    ¡°The gift of the Jointed Goddess!¡±


    The writhing passed through his eyes and into his mind, where it became raw data for which he had no frame of reference. It burned! It burned like a brand upon the heart! Gerald¡¯s mouth filled up with foam and terror.


    When it was done, the contents of his brand were still vivid. Wherever he dragged his sight, they were hovering beside it:


    Class: [Penitent]


    HP: 18/18


    RANK: [1]


    Attack: 1


    Core: 2


    Endurance: 1


    Speed: 2


    (Passive) Aura of Thorns L.1 ¡Ñ?


    Enemies that make contact with your body take 3 (Level + Rank + 30% per Core) piercing damage.


    Still, they did not unhook his eyelids. Gerald moaned in pain. I''ve become an Accursed. What more will they take from me?


    ¡°As for mortal offerings... weaponry! Clothes! Bronze coins in their pockets! May these serve you well in your passage through the Vast Underworld.¡±


    Two of the heretics brought forth ragged robes and draped them upon his tied feet. A third, standing on tiptoes, pressed a dull knife between his bound palms.


    I won¡¯t need any of this when I¡¯m a bleeding corpse. You¡¯re just trying to soothe the crowd¡¯s guilty conscience.


    Father Ache¡¯s cloudy eyes passed over the congregation. Weighing their devotion, measuring that dark fervor in their eyes. ¡°Acolyte Anna,¡± he intoned. ¡°Step forward and send this sinner to our Jointed Goddess.¡±


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    A susurration ran through the ragged cultists. The woman who approached Gerald was tapping nervous fingers against her palms. She can¡¯t be older than twenty.


    Father Ache produced a sacrificial knife from thin air. He gently guided Anna¡¯s fingers to clutch it.


    The priest whispered into her ear. Only Gerald was close enough to overhear.


    ¡°Until now, you have only butchered livestock. But this knife is empowered by my hand to kill sinners in a single blow. With your first sacrifice of another Blessed, you will truly become one of us.¡±


    Gerald¡¯s mind was whirling, groping in the darkness for any escape. Time seemed to slow for him as Anna steadied the ceremonial dagger in her hand.


    Blessed? Is that what they call the Accursed from inside? No, it doesn''t matter. Think! What can I possibly...


    Anna exhaled. Gerald¡¯s eyes widened further.


    That¡¯s it! If I sacrifice¡ªthat is, kill¡ªthis acolyte, I¡¯ll surely be accepted as an Accursed in her stead! But how? My curse¡¯s only power requires touch, and she has that dagger! She won¡¯t need to be near my skin at all!


    As Anna¡¯s expression hardened into steel, Gerald began to laugh hysterically. The convulsions wracked his lungs and sent his dangling body swaying lightly in the chains. Wait-


    The dagger flashed toward his throat. Gerald swung backwards and his spine jolted against the wall. Anna¡¯s blade hung in the air mere inches from his neck, and he was already swinging back toward it.


    I get into barfights every other week, heretic! You¡¯ve never even fought something that can bite back, have you?


    Before his momentum could impale him on the dagger, Gerald brought his bare legs up, kneeing Anna in the stomach. She stumbled back and the knife went with her.


    Beside his sight, the curse flashed with a quick report...


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to R1 [Acolyte].


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Acolyte].


    Gasps filled the hall and some of the light leaked back into Gerald¡¯s world. I have a chance.


    Anna stood, pain still sinking into her expression. Three deep dripping puncture wounds had appeared through her robes. It doesn¡¯t have to be skin on skin. Just close physical contact is enough! Abruptly, her face twisted into a raw snarl.


    You, R1 [Penitent], have been addled with Joint Lock. Left Patella sealed for 2 seconds.


    If Gerald were not already bound, he suspected his suddenly paralyzed leg would have dropped out from under him, leaving him prone. Instead, the burden of his shackles became half again as heavy.


    Anna was already lunging. He caught a dagger-glint and a flash of furious eyes. At that moment, he didn¡¯t have time to spare on complex thoughts.


    I won¡¯t!


    Gerald¡¯s thigh muscles strained. He wouldn¡¯t reach Anna before the dagger found his jugular. He bent the only knee that could still move and it slapped uselessly into her chest.


    The scream that followed was decidedly not a war cry. Gerald¡¯s legs were tied together. One leg had been forced by sheer grit to move in a way that his locked joints forbade. Naturally, the bone snapped.


    You, R1 [Penitent], have taken a Major Injury!


    Your Max HP reduced by 4.


    Further damage may degrade your Max HP further.


    HP: 13/14.


    Anna was wailing too, in fury. ¡°You horrible animal! It stabbed me in the breast!¡±


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Acolyte].


    ¡°Enough!¡± boomed Father Ache. Anna ignored him, pouncing upon defenseless, cringing Gerald.


    Her momentum cut. She stood stock still, as if a puppet with the strings taut. A moment later, her eyes became clear. Her fingers resumed tapping on her palms.


    Anna dropped into a hasty bow. ¡°I was reckless, Father. I will accept any punishment.¡±


    Gerald glared at Anna through tears of pain, then turned his eyes on Father Ache. The undisguised calculation in the priest¡¯s cataract-filled irises sent a shiver through Gerald.


    The man¡¯s a shepherd. Of course he wouldn¡¯t let me murder his flock. What was I thinking?!

 Chapter 2 - Aces

    ¡°Clearly,¡± said the preacher, ¡°you defy the natural order of the Blessed. A [Penitent] should not shame an [Acolyte].¡±


    He pinned his cold gaze upon Anna. ¡°Worse, an [Acolyte] shouldn¡¯t shame herself. Give me a reason why I should not have you both expulsed to the Vast Underworld.¡±


    Anna paled, and in the growing light of hope Gerald remembered how young she was. They locked eyes and realized both were being measured against each other.


    ¡°I am willing to renounce myself,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll follow the teachings of your Jointed Goddess. I¡¯ll not touch drink, nor injure your Blessed, nor beat my head with my fists. All I ask is survival. I do not yet deserve forgiveness.¡±


    I might be laying it on a little thick, thought Gerald as he shut his mouth.


    ¡°His leg is broken,¡± said Anna solemnly. ¡°It¡¯s a Major Injury, so he may never walk unaided again. Please allow me to act as his caretaker.¡±


    Clever. She may have failed as an [Acolyte], but she can still be an asset to him by taking on a thankless job. She¡¯s tying her fate to my own. But why is Father even considering my survival as an option? A moment ago, he cared nothing for me.


    ¡°I¡¯ll teach him the proper observances, as well,¡± Anna offered.


    Father watched the two of them until Anna¡¯s cheeks began to twitch in fear. Gerald kept his head bowed.


    ¡°Guide him properly,¡± said Father. ¡°May our lady bend our fate.¡±


    ¡°May our lady bend our fate,¡± echoed the congregation. They began to disperse. Gerald was left with many questions, but only one was pressing.


    ¡°Can you please take the hooks off my eyelids, Caretaker Anna?¡±


    I won¡¯t die like this. But can I really call it living?


    <hr>


    ¡°Gerald, what do you know about Blessed mechanics?¡±


    Anna was fiddling with his leg shackles. They had several identical pin locks which all had to be opened in order to loosen the cuffs. My power must not see her as an enemy right now, even though I don¡¯t trust her. How can it tell? Can it be fooled?


    ¡°Nothing,¡± said Gerald with closed eyes. ¡°I migrated to Marshweld just last month. Before then, I only knew hearsay about Accursed; cultist organizations with strange powers. Heard them whispered of in taverns. Never gave much thought to the rumors.¡±


    ¡°I see. I¡¯ll treat you as an uninitiated, Gerald.¡±


    She frowned. Clunk. Gerald¡¯s manacles fell to the floor. Anna rose on her tiptoes but still couldn¡¯t reach his hands. She dragged a stool over while she lectured him.


    ¡°Blessed have strange bodies. They¡¯re governed not by the laws of physics, but by the Aces. That means Attack, Core, Endurance, and Speed. If a Blessed strikes another, no matter how strong or weak each is, the aggressor''s Attack will be subtracted from the defender¡¯s HP. Mundane injury can only reduce your HP by 1.¡±


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    ¡°What does HP mean, then?¡±


    ¡°No one really knows, but it¡¯s colloquially referred to as Holy Power. If a Blessed runs out of it, the force animating their body departs for the Vast Underworld.¡±


    ¡°What¡¯s the Underworld, anyway? I thought it was a euphemism for death.¡±


    Anna¡¯s eyes lit up. ¡°In the Vast Underworld, faithful followers of the Jointed Goddess¡ªAll Emissaries of Bone are eligible, really¡ªwho pass away are rewarded with an afterlife. The higher your Rank when you die, the longer you¡¯ll live there. It¡¯s not the only reward for increasing your Rank, but it¡¯s certainly the largest.¡±


    Gerald¡¯s eyes widened in performative curosity. ¡°And how do you increase that Rank?¡±


    ¡°At first? Simply kill another Blessed of the same Rank in single combat! Most deities only reward their followers for defeating foreign Blessed, but the Jointed Goddess is a realist who rules fate, bones, and non-equivalence. As such, she permits fratricide between her believers!¡±


    How barbaric!


    ¡°It sounds... ruthless.¡±


    ¡°I suppose it would be if the dead weren¡¯t rewarded. But one Rank is worth a hundred years of afterlife, so it¡¯s not such a raw deal.¡±


    Huh?


    Gerald gulped. ¡°Sorry, caretaker, I must¡¯ve misheard. I thought you said each Rank provides a hundred years.¡±


    ¡°That¡¯s what I said.¡±


    ¡°But I might not even survive this life until I''m forty!¡±


    ¡°Not a problem. The reward is unconditional. Why do you think we were so happy to slaughter you after the goddess¡¯ gift?¡±


    Because you¡¯re all wicked cultists!


    ¡°I wasn¡¯t sure you had compelling enough reasons.¡±


    Anna¡¯s eyes hardened. Gerald dropped out of the shackles and landed right on his injured leg, which gave out from under him.


    HP: 12/14.


    ¡°Augh!¡±


    ¡°Oh, you can handle it, you big baby! Pain is vestigial for a Blessed. After a good long rest... your HP will recover fully.¡±


    ¡°Does that mean my Major Injury will recover too?¡±


    Anna simply grimaced. Gerald felt his face fall.


    ¡°Is there really no way?¡±


    ¡°In theory, you could increase your Rank to restore your body and extend your lifespan by a few years. But in reality, fighting an [Acolyte] with one leg already broken is suicide. You¡¯ve seen my Joint Lock! They¡¯d just lock your second leg! And a [Penitent] like yourself? They¡¯d have more HP than you, but the same abilities otherwise, so if you trade blows, you¡¯ll fall first.¡±


    ¡°What if I had a higher Core or Attack?¡±


    ¡°Unfortunately, the Aces only increase with Rank.¡±


    Gerald ran his hands down over his face. Finally, his eyes were no longer irritated. He opened them to stare directly at Anna.


    ¡°Then I must kill a Blessed that doesn¡¯t belong to the Emissaries. It¡¯s a gamble, but... asymmetry is the only way I¡¯ll have a chance!¡±


    Anna shifted under his gaze, eyes flicking toward the chapel door for just a moment.


    She collected her thoughts.


    ¡°You can be quite intense when you want to be, [Penitent] Gerald. I¡¯ll see if I can find you an opportunity. It¡¯s just... we rarely see outsider Blessed around these parts. Moreover, Father Ache¡¯s favored [Acolytes] get dibs on fighting them.¡±


    Her voice turned glum. ¡°That would¡¯ve been me, once. But I¡¯m certain I¡¯ve ruined my reputation in his eyes.¡±


    Gerald, uncertain how to reassure her, merely cleared his throat.

 Chapter 3 - Guest

    It had been two weeks since Gerald bravely put his survival above his own scruples. In time, he suffered through many more of Anna¡¯s lectures. The lessons ranged from proper etiquette to the cleaning of carcasses. Before she was accepted among the ranks of the Blessed, Anna had been a butcher.


    ¡°...In any case, Gerald, you were only the first of many. Every day, new refugees from the Peeking Woods pour into our Marshweld.¡±


    She¡¯s not using my title, [Penitent], right now. This could be a sign that she¡¯s warming up to me and doesn¡¯t wish my social status to interfere in casual conversation... but I know the truth. She¡¯s simply too annoyed to sound proper while complaining.


    Anna scowled as she marched ahead. ¡°Still, they¡¯re well-behaved, so we don¡¯t have cause to turn them away or sacrifice them.¡±


    Gerald hobbled after her on crutches. He kept up with Anna only due to his nature as a Blessed; the two had the same Ace of Speed. His head was bowed, but his eyes were flicking back and forth as if he were reading a script off a parchment.


    ¡°Indeed, Anna. Yet surely a sinner worth making an example of will eventually appear?¡±


    It had become a familiar sight to the [Acolytes] of Marshweld. Anna insisted that Gerald get regular exercise, so the two did laps around the Bent Chapel¡¯s cloister each morning. Anna would complain, and Gerald would dissemble. The two failures were inseparable.


    ¡°Excuse me. I have a delivery for Father Ache. Can you guide me to him?¡±


    Abruptly a young woman stood in front of the two. She carried a burlap sack, a club, and a blithe smile. There were far too many pockets on each of her clothes. Gerald¡¯s eyes narrowed. He¡¯d been taught by Anna how to check the Class and Rank of another Blessed.


    You scrutinize the R2 [Tourist].


    It¡¯s not a Class that the Jointed Goddess provides. However, her Rank marks her strength as out of my reach. This is not to be the site of my gamble.


    He bowed his head to her. ¡°Of course. I will lead you to Father Ache now. [Acolyte] Anna, I¡¯ll meet you for the congregation tonight.¡±


    Anna nodded warily to the messenger and marched away. Her footfalls were notably quieter than before.


    Gerald began to hobble forward. ¡°If I may be so presumptuous as to ask your name?¡±


    The [Tourist] grinned, eyes roaming over the cloister¡¯s crenellations as she walked. ¡°Oh, how quaint! The servants back home are not nearly so polite... address me as Lady Brenda, please!¡±


    At Rank 2, she¡¯s killed at least once before. I must remain respectful. Even if her manner annoys me. ¡°Yes, Lady Brenda.¡±


    ¡°Say, do you know what era the Bent Chapel was constructed in? Its architecture seems largely functional, but there are hints of the visceralist movement in its embellishments, to say nothing of the open floor plan.¡±


    Do you take me for a stuffy academic?


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    ¡°I haven¡¯t the foggiest, Lady Brenda. I only immigrated to Marshweld a month and a half ago, so I fear I¡¯m not well-educated on its history.¡±


    ¡°Hm. A poor choice of tour guide on my part, then.¡±


    Gerald did not reply. There was a short, awkward pause.


    ¡°Where do you hail from, if not Marshweld?¡±


    ¡°My hometown of Rivervall was swallowed up by the Peeking Woods. My wife and our children refused to follow me to seek a new home, believing the known dangers of the Woods safer than the sheer unknown of travel.¡±


    Seeing as I was nearly sacrificed, they¡¯re probably right.


    Gerald spat on the ground, then paled. ¡°Pardon me, Lady Brenda. It is a harsh topic for me. I meant no offense.¡±


    ¡°No, I see I¡¯ve touched a nerve. You are pardoned, [Penitent]...?¡±


    ¡°Gerald, my lady.¡±


    ¡°I see. I myself am a widow, for similarly ignoble reasons.¡±


    She leaned in, like a delighted child whispering a secret.


    ¡°You see, I burnt my husband to death for this second Rank.¡±


    Gerald¡¯s neck sprouted chills


    ¡°...We¡¯re here, Lady Brenda. Father Ache¡¯s office lies through these doors.¡±


    Gerald was already unlatching the gates. They opened with a cavernous groan. Lady Brenda skipped into the gloom without so much as a backwards glance at him. As the doors began to close, he saw her untie the twine that held her burlap sack shut. Silver coins began to spill out.


    Bang! The doors clattered. Gerald stumbled away, suppressing the convulsions of his throat. How many of the local deities permit fratricide?


    <hr>


    It was time for the Emissaries¡¯ congregation. As usual, it began on Tuesday afternoon and continued long into the night.


    Gerald sat on the farthest pew beside Anna. His view of the pulpit was blocked by robes. Instead he watched the candlelight play on the ceiling, letting Father Ache¡¯s solemn voice wash over him. I wonder if I¡¯ll see the Jointed Goddess again, now that I have accepted Her gift? Though perhaps my reasons remain too selfish.


    ¡°Transformation reigns over all things and passes through all worlds... Both the Vast Underworld and our flesh and blood lives are inconstant... In celebration of this, today, I have a guest speaker here among us to discuss ephemeral beauty. Brenda of the Traveler¡¯s Guild, come forth.¡±


    It can¡¯t be!


    But her voice was unmistakable. A light, gleeful thing, not entirely at home in the cold black chapel, but carving a place among its shadows.


    ¡°Good evening! I thank you for this opportunity in the hallowed name of the Traveler. I¡¯ve chosen one of my favorite passages for today. It just so happens to be relevant to one of you. Now...


    ¡°Between us and stardust, there is only air and time. In all things there is a semblance of nothing and a tendency towards extinction. Like water flowing downhill, our greatest clarity comes as we are physically diminished...¡±


    Gerald felt his cheeks heat up as she continued. She clearly views me as a friend, to deliver a sermon on this topic just after meeting me. But I don¡¯t plan to remain ¡®content in injury and age¡¯, as she puts it... how embarrassing!


    Still, the contemplative murmuring of [Acolytes] marked her sermon as a success.


    ¡°Now, to demonstrate my sincere commitment to these beliefs, I shall be maimed. Father Ache, please select a suitable Rank 2 to kill me.¡±


    Huh?!


    Father Ache¡¯s similar stunned expression appeared in brief between uncomfortably shuffling believers. He recovered his dignity before even disappearing beneath the crowd.


    ¡°...You know it is blasphemous for our fully initiated to accept a suicide offering. There must be an actual fight to the death, or Our Lady will detest the winner...¡±


    Brenda¡¯s grin was audible. ¡°Then I will fight back, of course.¡±

 Chapter 4 - Body

    Gerald¡¯s mind raced. Is this a ploy to kill one of our Rank 2 [Acolytes], and thus become a stronger Blessed? Wait, the silver... Did she buy a believer¡¯s life? But why request to die herself? We simply don¡¯t know enough!


    What can a [Tourist] even do?


    The ceiling began to flutter and twist. A gnarled finger stretched from an inverted pool of shadows and pointed into the crowd. Gerald glared at the man who stood.


    You scrutinize the R2 [Acolyte].


    ¡°Our Goddess has spoken! [Acolyte] Knur, come forward!¡± boomed Father Ache.


    Gerald recognized him. Knur was the carpenter who had finished his crutches. The man charged Anna exorbitantly, certain he could get away with it.


    He had.


    The two strode toward each other, meeting in the middle of the chapel. They were close enough for everyone to see, even Gerald.


    I hope he gets his ass beat, thought Gerald darkly.


    <hr>


    Though it really wasn¡¯t the time, Brenda found herself ruminating.


    I hope Father Ache doesn¡¯t hold my theatrics against the Traveler¡¯s Guild. I¡¯d prefer any grudges like my husband; forgotten by all who¡¯d care.


    [Acolyte] Knur was a broad, predictable man. His gaze was beady and baleful. He suspects a trick, but knows not where it comes from.


    Just in case, Brenda flicked her focus to the left.


    Class: [Tourist]


    HP: 32/32


    RANK: [2]


    Attack: 4


    Core: 1


    Endurance: 4


    Speed: 3


    (Active) Touring Body L.5 ¡Ñ?


    Create a copy of your body and possessions that may be controlled remotely. Controlling the Touring Body and reading its senses consumes all of your focus. You may not bring the touring body farther than 77


    (Level*10 + Rank*10 + 10% per Core) steps from your true self.


    (Passive) Mundane Weapons Enthusiast L.1 ¡Ñ?


    Weaponry not sanctioned by your Class deals 4 (Level + Rank + 35% per Core) bonus adaptive damage.


    You, R2 [Tourist], have been addled with Joint Lock. Right Patella sealed for 5 seconds.


    Oh my, he¡¯s already starting.


    Knur punched her in the stomach. The blow nearly lifted her off her feet.


    Attack dealt 5 crushing damage to you, R2 [Tourist].


    Grinning wildly, Brenda¡ªor rather, her duplicate body¡ªslapped Knur across the face. It doesn¡¯t matter what form the attack takes, so I may as well humiliate and upset him!


    Attack dealt 4 crushing damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    He snarled and stepped out of her striking range. With but a single functional knee, Brenda still tried to limp closer. After all, if I can''t get near him in the end, I won¡¯t have a win condition!


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    Knur backed up. Even then, he was losing ground to Brenda. His Ace of Speed must be 2, or even 1! The frustration was clear in his grit teeth.


    There was a sound like meat tearing.


    One of Knur¡¯s teeth fired from his mouth and shot through Brenda¡¯s other leg.


    Bone Shrapnel dealt 7 piercing damage to you, R2 [Tourist].


    You, R2 [Tourist], have taken a Major Injury...


    She collapsed forward, prone. Both her legs were now useless.


    But my arms will still work!


    Brenda reached into her coat pocket and lobbed a stone at Knur¡¯s head. Perhaps expecting it to deal standard damage, he didn¡¯t even try to duck.


    Mundane Attack dealt 5 crushing damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    The impact sent Knur into a dazed stumble. Meanwhile, Brenda had been crawling toward him since she first threw the rock. She grabbed at his robes and dragged him, already off-balance, to smack his head against the chapel floor. She was careful not to strike him properly; if she did, it would register as an Attack and deal only 4 damage.


    Mundane Attack dealt 5 crushing damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    Then the two were locked in a hissing, spitting grapple.


    Attack dealt 4 crushing damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    Attack dealt 5 crushing damage to you, R2 [Tourist].


    Attack dealt 4 crushing damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    Attack dealt 5 crushing damage to you, R2 [Tourist].


    They slowed.


    Attack dealt 4 crushing damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    Attack dealt 5 crushing damage to you, R2 [Tourist]...


    HP: 5/28


    The two were breathing heavily, now. Blood smears spread over both their faces as they paused. Even now, Knur was refreshing the joint lock on her uninjured leg.


    Brenda smiled wildly, reached into her pocket, and produced a lighter.


    ¡°In pursuit of freedom and beauty, I will greet death as a [Tourist]! See the rest of you tomorrow!¡±


    And set her clothes on fire.


    Mundane Attack dealt 5 burning damage to you, R2 [Tourist].


    The agony was fresh and invited her into a black stupor.


    HP: 0/28


    Your Touring Body has expired.


    In Father Ache¡¯s office, Brenda opened her eyes. She glanced around, stretched, inhaled the dusty air...


    And then, of course, checked her Blessing.


    Mundane Attack dealt 5 burning damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    Mundane Attack dealt 5 burning damage to R2 [Acolyte].


    R2 [Acolyte] perished.


    All R2 conditions fulfilled.


    Return to your deity to undergo Suzemony.


    <hr>


    Gerald stared at the charred bodies. One had collapsed atop the other. Like dominoes. Like they weren¡¯t ever human.


    Two senseless deaths for the crime of one¡¯s ambition.


    He gulped.


    Father Ache sold Knur¡¯s life for a sack of silver. From the looks of it, he didn¡¯t even expect her to declare a pretense. This is the world of the so-called Blessed.


    Father Ache was closing the sermons, now. Gerald heard not a word. Eventually, Father stopped talking.


    ¡°May our lady bend our fate,¡± Gerald muttered in tune with the rest. They were already shuffling out the chapel¡¯s large arched doors.


    ¡°[Acolyte] Anna, please help me to my quarters. My leg needs rest.¡±


    Silent, she offered him a hand up. Gerald took it gratefully.


    I can¡¯t laze around and wait for an opportunity. Father Ache has proven his willingness to trade the complacent. From here on out... I must be the aggressor, not the aggrieved.


    Blessed life isn¡¯t so different from visiting unsavory bars, huh?


    They were traveling alone now.


    ¡°[Acolyte] Anna, I¡¯ve changed my mind. I still have some energy. Please lead me to the Civil Outreach office. I¡¯d like to sign up for a job.¡±

 Chapter 5 - Drown

    Civil Outreach was an ostentatious, grand tower, stark in contrast to the mostly-humble cloisters and annexes of the Jointed Chapel. It stood on the very edge of the grounds.


    Atop its solid stature, staring out at Marshweld¡¯s village proper... there was a gleaming eye.


    Inside, Gerald sat behind the receptionist¡¯s desk. Perched on his nose was a pair of spectacles. Still, he squinted to read the Book of Prophecy And Nonequivalence. It held many of the Jointed Goddess¡¯s most important teachings... but the text was crammed tight on the parchment, and his vision was swimming.


    It had been a month since his fateful inauguration as a Blessed. Anna refused to visit him at work¡ªshe¡¯s sulking, isn¡¯t she?¡ªbut Lady Brenda often stopped by to tease him. The first time he saw her alive, he nearly jumped out of his own skin. The ingracious noise he¡¯d made was a favored topic of hers.


    How long is she staying, anyway? A [Tourist] surely has better places to be.


    Of course, thinking of her impending migration brought a tight knot of remembered guilt to his stomach.


    To tell the truth, I was misguided after leaving my family. In desperation and loneliness, I attacked others without discretion or even malice... Those days are long gone; now my violence must be guided by purpose.


    I must repent.


    Gerald realized he¡¯d read the same line thrice in a row now. He reached up and cast his spectacles aside. His head rolled toward the vaulted ceiling. He sighed.


    ¡°I¡¯m tired of waiting,¡± he told the empty room. ¡°Tonight I will propose my plan to Father Ache..¡±


    He was certain that the shadows on the bas-relief deepened.


    The front door opened.


    Gerald slapped the Book of Prophecy shut and glanced up at the civilian who stepped, nervous, into the grandiose foyer.


    Not a civilian. A child.


    The boy had farm-calloused fingers and short, functional hair. Truthfully... he must¡¯ve been in his early teens. It was just that everyone below twenty-two felt like a child to Gerald.


    ¡°Hello,¡± he said. ¡°Mum has a request. Is this the Emissaries¡¯ Outreach office?¡±


    Gerald leaned forward. ¡°It is indeed. How can this humble servant of the Goddess help you today?¡±


    The boy gulped.


    ¡°My brother¡¯s very sick. Usually he is, really. We¡¯re poor, so Mum wants to... um... place him under your Chapel¡¯s care.¡±


    Gerald¡¯s eyes widened slightly as he read between the lines. Too few resources to feed dead weight, is that it?


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    Gerald tilted his head. His gaze softened.


    ¡°Son, a family should stay together. Take it from me, this sort of thing isn¡¯t worth regretting for the rest of your life. You bring your Mum down here and have her ask herself. None of this middleman business.¡±


    The boy gulped again, but the tension around his eyes was slightly relieved. ¡°Okay. I¡¯ll bring her.¡±


    He scuttled out the door. Gerald reopened his book.


    Not twenty minutes later, the door slammed against the wall.


    The boy from before held it open. His mother was a thundercloud. She held one end of a stretcher and a meek, muscular man gripped the other. Upon the cloth was the most feeble child Gerald had ever seen.


    His skin was like paper. Gerald could hear his lungs rattling against his ribcage. The cheeks that should have been rosy were sunken, recessed.


    The man and the storm carried the stretcher in and set it gently on the ground in front of Gerald.


    ¡°We¡¯re traveling merchants,¡± she announced. ¡°Our lifestyle is too dangerous for our frail Desmond. The frequent climate changes are just too much. Please look after him and we will remain in your debt forevermore.¡±


    She bowed.


    Gerald had to admit he misjudged her slightly. It wasn¡¯t out of intentioned callousness that she sent the child; through the open door, he could see her carriage on the muddy road. She¡¯s leaving in a hurry, since the roads are deadly at night. Of course she¡¯d delegate! No, wait, are we an afterthought? A last-ditch desperate attempt at saving that boy¡¯s life?


    Gerald didn¡¯t hesitate. ¡°I will have him put up in our guest quarters at once. No charge. Just... be aware he may be exposed to our church¡¯s beliefs during his stay.¡±


    The mother rose with sudden tears in her eyes. ¡°Oh, thank you, thank you! And don¡¯t worry. Even if the Orthodoxy is more, ah, acceptable, their guest quarters are too full of Peeking Woods refugees... At least, that¡¯s the reasoning they gave before turning us away. As far as I¡¯m concerned, you Emissaries of Bone lent a helping hand that the Orthodoxy refused to. Keep him safe, you hear?¡±


    With her rapid-fire barrage concluded, she fled from the tower as if she feared Gerald would renege. Or ask a price. The others went with her.


    Gerald blinked. He glanced at the boy on the ornate floor. Is this really okay?


    ¡°Desmond, was it?¡±


    ¡°Yes, sir.¡±


    ¡°I need to speak with the Father, but before then, do you need any water or food?¡±


    ¡°I¡¯m a little thirsty.¡±


    ¡°Alright. Give me a moment.¡± Gerald brought himself up on his cane. His leg had finally gotten to the point where he could put the slightest weight on it, but he was certain it would never bend again.


    Unless I undergo Suzemony, that is. But first I¡¯ll have to kill someone of Rank 1.


    Indeed, the process of Suzemony would not just slightly extend his lifespan, but also heal his Major Injury. It was everything he could possibly want.


    Though I¡¯ll always be below [Acolytes] of the same Rank. As followers of the Goddess who rules nonequivalence, the Emissaries truly love their caste systems.


    Gerald was far from the only [Penitent] servant on the grounds, but he was the only pardoned sacrifice. In the past week, there had been two more [Penitents] Blessed and immediately expulsed to the Vast Underworld. I guess we were bound to see some more lawbreakers eventually.


    Gerald shook his head and brought Desmond a jug of water.


    ¡°Slowly, boy. Don¡¯t choke yourself!¡±


    Regardless, he drank like he wanted to drown. Gerald watched and knew in his heart that he was being offered a choice.


    If I stay to care for this child, I won¡¯t be able to move forward with my plan. But he¡¯s a second chance at the family I left behind.


    ¡°Oh Goddess,¡± he muttered. ¡°You test me so...¡±

 Chapter 6 - Shivering

    Father Ache¡¯s office was filled with ornate iron skulls. Upon each forehead was carved a numeral. They ranged from I to V, and the latter variety were myriad. There was but a single skull trophy marked with an I; it was silvered, on the center-most of pedestals.


    Gerald stood against his cane and moved as little as possible. Only his eyes shifted over the priest¡¯s collection. Father Ache, sitting, read through the report that Gerald had delivered.


    I can¡¯t stand still for much longer. My leg aches. How cruel! But it¡¯s his right. The mountain of dead he¡¯s left behind in his journey towards Rank 5... Well, I suspect they¡¯re enshrined on the shelves behind him.


    Father Ache turned his milky eyes on Gerald. His mouth was a severe line.


    ¡°You rate this burden highly, to give up that expedition you were working towards.¡±


    Of course he already knows. [Acolyte] Anna must have reported first. Or perhaps the shadows themselves whisper into his ears?


    Gerald bowed his head. ¡°I have no excuse to offer. Caring for a child is simply something I must do.¡±


    Father Ache did not often emote. Still, that twitch at the edge of his cheeks... Disappointment?


    The man folded leathery hands upon his desk. ¡°Do you know why I pardoned you, [Penitent] Gerald? Let¡¯s not mince words. I see you as you see me; a predator content to lie among sheep.¡±


    A cold wind blew down Gerald¡¯s spine. He could tell? He swallowed, then opened his mouth-


    ¡°No, Gerald, don¡¯t bother denying it. Behind that submissive smile is an ambitious mind.¡±


    ¡°...I¡¯m flattered you think I''m dangerous, Father,¡± said Gerald.


    ¡°Hah!¡± The shepherd¡¯s laugh was a sharp bark. ¡°Not to me. Not for several years. And you never will be, if you choose this path. I¡¯ll speak plainly. The others at Rank Four are content. They attend sermons, but they no longer practice their Blessed gifts. I¡¯m sure you know of Levels?¡±


    Gerald shook his head. ¡°No, Father.¡±


    He scowled. ¡°What is Anna teaching you? Nevermind that. I suppose it isn¡¯t relevant until Rank 2, and she suspects you¡¯ll never reach even that. Look upon your gift. Do you see the L, number, and eye beside it?¡±


    (Passive) Aura of Thorns L.1 ¡Ñ?


    ¡°Yes, Father.¡±


    His lips quirked. ¡°Good. The L is Level. The eye denotes a gift at its peak Level for your Rank. When you undergo Suzemony, that symbol will vanish. Your limits will expand, and only fervent practice will reach them again. I believe... to be eligible at Rank 2 you must reach Level 5 in your original ability? Regardless, once all your Blessings have an eye, you¡¯re ready for another Suzemony.¡±


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    Details joined together in Gerald¡¯s mind. A shock of endless light and shadows of his own situation. Epiphany.


    I see where this is going.


    ¡°While we¡¯re speaking plainly. Not a day goes by when I don''t agonize over my relative weakness within my Rank. You¡¯ve reached your peak, haven¡¯t you, Father? And no Emissary wishes to join you in Rank 5, lest they be killed by a better version of the same Class.¡±


    Father Ache stared at Gerald. Then, harsh laughter bubbled free of his chest. it rolled over the office, bounced off the skulls, battered Gerald into a shivering fear. It was the laugh of a coyote; no, perhaps a beast more exotic and deadly... a hyena?


    ¡°Indeed, [Penitent] Gerald. But in the years since our Jointed Goddess revealed herself, we have seen no [Penitents] reach even Rank 3. You were willing to gamble your life once. Now, here¡¯s my wager. I bet a Rank 5 [Acolyte] can kill a Rank 5 [Penitent] easily. And if you bet against me, I¡¯ll favor you, aid you, and protect that other burden until you return from your excursion.¡±


    Groomed to duel the Father? When I can¡¯t even stand to look in his blind eyes? But I don¡¯t have a choice. Refusal to climb the ranks could see me sacrificed by my betters regardless.


    And that boy...


    Gerald thought of Desmond, weak, frail, trusting his life to strangers and cultists because he had no other choice.


    ¡°It¡¯s a cunning deal, Father. I fear I shall have to take it.¡±


    ¡°Of course you do. We¡¯re the same type of man, for all we rest in different fundamental strata.¡±


    Father Ache smiled like the kind uncle he had been months ago, listening to Gerald scream and spit in the pubs.


    I hate him. I¡¯ll kill him for this someday.


    But for now, I can only curse myself.


    <hr>


    In the morning, Gerald stepped onto a caravan heading toward the Gnarl of Blood.


    It was a blighted pustule upon the land; an offshoot biome of the Peeking Woods that had become particularly vicious and spiteful. However, it had appeared on a major trade route between two of the Orthodoxy¡¯s cities. Oh, sure, you could travel around it... If you had weeks to spare. Over the past two years of its life, many merchants fed themselves down the gullet of the Gnarl. Greed begets gluttony, after all.


    Gerald had heard of the Gnarl, but he had little experience with forestry. It was for this reason that he had fled his home back then.


    No more. If this plan is to work, I must confront my fears.


    Gerald¡¯s plan, in truth, was simple. He lacked the political acumen to challenge a foreign Blessed to life-or-death combat and leave their holy grounds unscathed. As such, he could only win in an ambush scenario. I need them isolated and, if possible, unsuspecting.


    Where the Peeking Woods grew, guide huts sprung up in their wake as if mushrooms after a storm. If you could live in the area, it stood to reason you could guide rich, terrified men through for an ample sum. And be left alone in the woods with them.


    There¡¯s just a single root issue. I¡¯m inexperienced. If I try to learn the lay of the land, I¡¯d probably get killed myself, Blessed or not. Mundane means may only reduce my Holy Power by 1, but the Peeking Woods are not mundane. Plus, Lady Brenda proved that fire can strike a Blessed down. What about poison? What about beasts?


    I simply don¡¯t know. How frightening!

 Chapter 7 - Countryside

    When they were within a mile of the Gnarl, Gerald became further certain that the Peeking Woods were unnatural. He¡¯d heard tales, of course, and even lived in a place that was curdling into more of the Woods. But the air was alive in a way he¡¯d not felt before. The sky is hungry here.


    Gerald sat in a position of honor; beside the stagecoach driver, rather than inside the covered wagon where the travelers packed like sardines. Father Ache had secured his safe and comfortable passage with several glimmering coins. More still rested in the pouch at Gerald¡¯s side.


    Gerald¡¯s eyes locked on his copy of the Book of Prophecy And Nonequivalence. Its words were becoming clearer and larger to him each day. He suspected the Book had been enchanted somehow to hide its deeper meanings from nonbelievers. As only a basic member of the Emissaries of Bone, he had not been permitted to see its deeper truths until he acquired Father Ache¡¯s favor.


    The effects of truth were intangible. They would not make him a better fighter, nor guide him throughout the Gnarl¡ªat least, not at Rank 1. What they could do was provide him with an innate aura of superiority... no, separation from the earthly. He felt the trepidation of those in the cabin who met his eyes. He saw the way the darkness bent towards him, caressing him, when they passed under the shaded boughs that littered the countryside of Marshweld.


    Now the forest was thickening into ichor, turning from occasional trees to a continuous tangle of vines and brush. Soon, the plants became bulbous and red, like fleshy growths about to pop. Guards ahead of the caravan sliced at the undergrowth with machetes and axes. The trail they cut closed up behind the last of the caravan. We¡¯re properly in the Gnarl now. It tolerates our presence because we are violent. It knows and respects that.


    Maybe I¡¯ll be a better fit for the Gnarl than I thought. I can¡¯t be certain if it¡¯s my status as a Blessed or just reading of the Book, but I have a sense for the Woods¡¯ intent here. This is a place of struggle.


    A clearing opened up before them. It was filled with boarded huts and suspicious glances. Gerald noted a general store, a small trading post, and a pub where three elderly foresters wasted their dues.


    The carts rolled to a stop and working men began to unload their cargo. The travelers stayed inside, of course. Like rats, they could smell the danger outside.


    Gerald snapped the Book shut. He tucked it under one arm and brought himself to stand upon his cane. He smiled blandly.


    ¡°Gentlemen, thank you kindly for aiding me here. I¡¯ll depart now.¡±


    The driver passed him a wary look. ¡°Yup, take care stranger.¡±


    Gerald wandered toward the pub, inspecting every staring face he passed. He clicked his tongue. Not a single Blessed among them. Hardy folk, to survive here with no divinity. But it means I can¡¯t just ask how dangerous the woods are to a Blessed. I¡¯ll have to find out the basics of survival... then experiment for myself.


    ¡°Young man,¡± called one of the foresters drinking out front. He was a man of graying hair and calloused fingers. His eyes lingered on Gerald¡¯s stiff leg. ¡°You look like you¡¯ve seen a harsh ride. Come. Drink with us!¡±


    Gerald blinked. ¡°I fear my faith doesn¡¯t permit me alcohol.¡±


    ¡°Bah, just a sip? It¡¯ll take the edge off aching bones!¡±


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    Gerald, who had indeed suffered from the bumpy ride, sighed. I suppose it¡¯s not a hard requirement, anyway. Just a rule I imposed on myself to make restraining my anger easier. But out here in the Gnarl of Blood, I have the strangest sense that belligerence will impress the biome.


    Gerald graciously took the offered mug and drank from it. ¡°I suppose just one sip couldn¡¯t hurt. Say, what¡¯s it like living out here?¡±


    His vision suddenly blurred.


    You, R1 [Penitent] have been addled with Mundane Tranquilizer.


    Awareness impaired for 1 second.


    Someone screamed. ¡°What the hell?!¡±


    His eyes cleared. The would-be thief had his hand on Gerald¡¯s belt. He drew back as if burned. Gerald saw puncture wounds had burrowed through his rough fingers and come out the other end as open air.


    He wasn¡¯t looking at just my leg. He was staring at my money pouch!


    Only now did the man begin to bleed.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Mundane Chemist Barry.


    ¡°He¡¯s a fucking Accursed!¡±


    The two others at the table rose. To their credit, they quickly wiped the shock from their faces. One grabbed for a chair. The other, her hatchet.


    Gerald swung a palm toward the side of Barry¡¯s head, but the man stumbled out of range. Inexperienced fighter. He lunged and-


    Abruptly, Gerald arrested his own momentum on the cane. A hatchet whistled right past his nose. The woman had thrown it at where his head was going to be! Are other villages all this barbaric?! No, it¡¯s probably the Gnarl¡¯s influence at work.


    Then the chair shattered over his head.


    Mundane Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to you, R1 [Penitent].


    Shards of wood had been impaled above his skin by the Aura, trapped in invisible spines. Gerald snarled like an animal. His next wild haymaker mashed into the chair-swinger¡¯s nose. Needlepoint wounds burrowed far deeper. The man dropped to the ground with a sickly thunk.


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to Mundane Thug Richard.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Mundane Thug Richard.


    Mundane Thug Richard perished.


    The last message was a cold bucket of water over Gerald¡¯s brain. That was a human being. He had a name.


    The shock on his face mirrored onto the other two robbers¡¯. In Gerald¡¯s thoughts, the sound of the kill played twice more.


    Shaking, furious and afraid, he hobbled over to where the hatchet had embedded in the wooden wall. No one stopped him. The chemist whimpered on the ground.


    He yanked it free in one smooth motion, sending a small shower of sawdust spraying over his arms.


    ¡°Hah!¡±


    Gerald¡¯s bark was a poor imitation of Father Ache, but it still sent the two would-be thieves fleeing down the road. He gazed after them with a hideous look in his eyes. Then, when they disappeared around a corner, Gerald sighed.


    One day in the Gnarl, and I¡¯ve already potentially blown my reputation. I bet the whole town¡¯ll know of this by nightfall.


    From behind the bar¡¯s door, a voice whispered: ¡°Psst. Are those ruffians gone?¡±

 Chapter 8 - Red Worms

    The Serpents Three had not been liked. Gerald was told as much while the server passed him a complimentary meal of thinly spiced bread and milk. I suppose they¡¯re The Serpents Two, if they decide to continue their banditry.


    The suspicious gazes had filtered out from their boarded-up houses and now the town, suddenly, was alive with people. Hardy, gaunt men chatted as they split towards the deeper Gnarl. Women with machetes whacked at tufts of red grass that sprouted from the pavement, tossed the stems into baskets. Children drew lines in the dirt road and ran about them in games as arcane as they were universal.


    ¡°Tag, you¡¯re the Hopper!¡±


    Gerald blinked. He was occupying the pub¡¯s front table all on his own, and the civilians gave him a respectful berth. All except for the child beside him, who had fearlessly slapped his side.


    ¡°My legs don¡¯t work well enough for that, I fear.¡±


    ¡°Oh. I¡¯ll get someone else!¡± The boy gave him a smile and ran off in small frog-hops, giggling.


    I was ambushed earlier. Aura of Thorns cut that thief before I even knew he was an enemy. This child slaps me without fear, but receives no damage... it must discern targets based on malicious intent, then.


    (Passive) Aura of Thorns L.1 ¡Ñ?


    Enemies that make contact with your body take 3 piercing damage.


    Enemies indeed! But could some madman harm me without realizing, and face no consequences?


    Gerald shook his head. The Goddess has provided me quite the esoteric Blessing, as punishment for leaving my family in the Peeking Woods... it¡¯s just...


    ¡°This place thrives,¡± he whispered. My old village might have, too. Was I truly such a coward? Even beside this Gnarl of Blood, children can play.


    Gerald wiped his face. Salty tears dripped down his fingers and into the bread as he ate. He tightened his mouth into a thin line.


    What a mess I am. I can¡¯t forget what I¡¯m here to do.


    So it was that Gerald marched up to one of the men heading into the woods and bowed deeply.


    ¡°Please allow me to shadow you through the Gnarl. I will not disturb you. I simply wish to watch how you navigate.¡±


    The hunter frowned. ¡°Even if you can keep up, I don¡¯t want your blood on my hands.¡±


    He turned and stalked away. Gerald watched helplessly.


    How to convince-


    ¡°That¡¯s not the problem.¡±


    A small, elderly person had approached him from the side. Their face was too shriveled to discern if it belonged to a male or female.


    You scrutinize Witch Olson.


    Ah, a witch. She must be a woman.


    ¡°What?¡± Gerald asked.


    ¡°It¡¯s not that the hunter¡¯s afraid of you interfering with him, boy. It¡¯s actually the opposite. The Gnarl has its rules. The damn thing punishes those who travel too far without fighting the wildlife. It¡¯s why there are so many outposts like our Feverton; the place forgives and forgets passive people once they sleep in town.¡±


    There¡¯s a lot to unpack in that statement, and offered generously, too. However...


    ¡°I¡¯m thirty-four, ma¡¯am. Not a boy at all.¡±


    ¡°Well, I¡¯m not a ma¡¯am, but we can¡¯t always get what we want the first time. Call me Olson or I¡¯ll steal your cane.¡±


    Gerald blinked. There was something of the Father¡¯s command there.


    ¡°Yes sir,¡± he said unconsciously.


    Olson¡¯s entire face melted into a scowl.


    ¡°Not that, either! So hung up on formality before your betters you end up impolite. Bah.¡±


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    Olson spat to the side and began to trundle off. Their footsteps still weren¡¯t audible.


    Only when Olson had disappeared behind houses did Gerald relax. I really thought that old hag would steal my cane! Even as a Blessed, witches still give me chills.


    Gerald slapped his own cheek.


    ¡°Enough thought! If the Gnarl respects only active and decisive prey, I¡¯d better show those characteristics.¡±


    Without further hesitation, he strode past crimson foliage and into the Gnarl proper. The sounds of Feverton¡ªlaughter, play, work¡ªwere swallowed up behind him. Here there was only silence and crunching grass underfoot. It smelled, oddly, of wax.


    Gerald¡¯s eyes wandered as he walked. The florae here were truly alien. Meaty bulbs hanging from the canopy twitched when he passed them.


    One vibrated angrily and exploded into chunks. A swarm of stinging insects flooded out and broke themselves apart on his Aura.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Swarming Figwasp.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Swarming Figwasp.


    Aura of Thorns dealt [...]


    Forty-six notifications flashed through his Blessing.


    Gerald gulped. For some reason, he found himself thinking aloud into the quiet woods.


    ¡°Not twenty steps into the Gnarl proper and it¡¯s already sent a small horde of pestilence after me. If I wasn¡¯t a [Penitent], I¡¯d have been shredded. How vicious! It must disdain me for relaxing in a caravan. I hope it¡¯ll allow me to prove myself.¡±


    Was it his imagination, or did the waxy smell thicken?


    Gerald continued deeper into the raw mouth of the woods. He had the sense that a crack was opening underneath his feet; that he was only barely too stable to fall in. That if he had a deeper understanding of non-equivalence, he would sink into an equally deep spiritual quagmire. As it was, Gerald still felt a strange weight playing at the edges of his consciousness.


    Noise cut through the stale air behind him; not just a howl. It was gurgling, too. Already alert, Gerald dove forward. Something passed over his head and sliced the hood of his robes free. Farther away still, claw-marks shaved at the bark of the Figwasp Tree.


    Gerald landed in a prone heap. His unseen attacker was snarling behind him. It¡¯s going to jump on me! He desperately rolled to the side; a rush of air buffeted him. The creature had stamped deeply into Gerald¡¯s leg. Foliage flattened itself in the wind.


    Attack dealt 6 crushing damage to you, R1 [Penitent].


    Your Major Injury has worsened!


    Your Max HP reduced by 3.


    HP: 8/11


    The creature was two-hundred pounds of emaciated wolf carcass and red worms. Its mouth dripped with froth; its jaws were locked open.


    He had but an instant before it savaged him. Time seemed to slow.


    Two images merged in Gerald¡¯s mind.


    The sickly crunch of his fist hitting a thug¡¯s nose. Punctures traveling deeper still.


    Claw marks planting themselves into tree bark from a swipe several meters distant.


    I¡¯m going to die just like him.


    Gerald knew he required skin contact for Aura of Thorns to function. He had no hope of delivering a solid punch to the beast while pinned.


    All innovations in violence are born of such wild odds. His body acted on his epiphany before it had even crystallized as a thought.


    Gerald swung from the ground. It was a wide hook, easily avoided by any man who¡¯d seen a fight before. But he was facing a beast. His sweeping palm was open and his fingers splayed.


    Anna explained to me that any strike is enough for a Blessed to maim. I hadn¡¯t understood until Brenda slapped Knur half to death. Maybe I still didn¡¯t understand back then.


    The middle finger struck first; incidental, for it was the longest of the five. The other four fingers trailed shortly behind it. Then his palm slapped deep into the beast¡¯s worm-infested fur.


    Six impacts. All negligible, all combined and treated as one dense attack.


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to Ingestion Hound.


    And yet.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Ingestion Hound.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Ingestion Hound.


    Two puncture wounds had burrowed into the hound. The first radiated from Gerald¡¯s middle finger through its cheek and throat. The second passed from its lower jaw to its brain. His palm was cupped around the bottom right of the wolf¡¯s snout.


    The hound¡¯s joints locked up; it collapsed onto its flank and moved no further. The worms continued to writhe gleefully in the corpse.


    Gerald gasped out his agony. How did I just do that?


    Then he screamed.


    ¡°I¡¯ll burn you down if you try that shit again! Understand?!¡±


    The smell of wax vanished. He stood shakily on his cane and fled only one step before he again found himself in Feverton.

 Chapter 9 - Cold Shining

    Gerald lay awake in an unfamiliar bed. Moonglow slipped through cracks in the boarded window. It was his second night in Feverton.


    After his encounter with the Ingestion Hound, he¡¯d rented a room and promptly passed out. The next day, he¡¯d asked around town thoroughly before setting off. When he again entered the Gnarl, he¡¯d found...


    Nothing.


    It wasn¡¯t nearly as hostile a biome after his first fight. By traveling in safe numbers he¡¯d unknowingly offended the Gnarl of Blood. Now that he¡¯d proven himself, he got the sense that their relationship was neutral, if not exactly amicable.


    It¡¯s a fucking forest.


    Gerald clutched the covers angrily. What right did this place have to decide life and death? It wasn¡¯t even human! Just an arbitrary collection of plants, insects, and rules. But now that he knew those rules, he was certain there was some way to turn the Gnarl on whatever Blessed he decided to kill.


    Cold moonlight was shining in his eyes. Gerald turned over in bed.


    <hr>


    Gerald stared at the red stalk growing from the ground. He placed his palm against it. Sighed.


    Although his Aura of Thorns had previously shattered chairs and faces, he was struggling to make it strike objects at will. It made sense on paper; this plant hadn¡¯t done anything to harm him. It wasn¡¯t an enemy.


    But it¡¯s part of the Gnarl. Surely that counts for something?


    After a few more moments of uselessly pressing his hand to the stem, Gerald grumbled.


    ¡°What are you doing, uncle?¡±


    It was the Hopskip kid again. Gerald had rented the bedroom from his parents. Contrary to Gerald¡¯s fears, his reputation was stellar after he¡¯d chased away the Serpents Three. No one living out here seemed to mind his status as a Blessed; if anything, it was a boon in the hardy settlement.


    ¡°Oh, just trying to figure out if I can help chop the plants with my Aura. I would feel bad if I wasn¡¯t contributing to Feverton.¡±


    The boy tilted his head, then eyed Gerald¡¯s paunch. ¡°The men are supposed to hunt. Usually only the mothers and Olson take care of the sprouts. Are you pregnant? You don¡¯t look too pregnant.¡±


    Gerald sputtered.


    ¡°Nevermind. Mom says that I shouldn¡¯t ask stupid questions any more.¡±


    He was already wandering away.


    ¡°Little devil,¡± Gerald muttered fondly.


    I wonder how Desmond is faring?


    <hr>


    Four days later, the Gnarl sent him a peace offering as he walked its depths. A pack of three snarling rabbits¡ªeach a quarter the size of an Ingestion Hound¡ªcharged him. Gerald¡¯s eyes lit up.


    Perfect! I can more easily experiment with Aura of Thorns on live targets!


    One leapt! Gerald yanked it out of the air by one hand, slapped it twice with the other. Blood spilled.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit.


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit.


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    Interesting. Grapples activate Aura of Thorns even if they aren¡¯t technically Attacks. The two blows in rapid succession were consolidated, of course, but I still don¡¯t know why it only lets me strike two times with the Aura!


    He dropped the dead rabbit. The other two split from each other, then pounced at his face from different sides. Gerald¡¯s eyes widened.


    Of course! I was missing the most obvious of connections!


    Speed: 2


    My Speed Ace is 2! That must be why I can only trigger two punctures at a time! Let¡¯s put that to the test...


    He slapped both rabbits up into the air, then juggled them from freefall.


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit 1.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit 1.


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit 2.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit 2.


    ¡°As I thought,¡± he said aloud.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit 1.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to Foaming Jackrabbit 2.


    ¡°I¡¯m limited to two Attacks and two Thorns each period. It¡¯s not perfectly two per second, but it¡¯s close enough.¡±


    He caught the dead rabbits before they could drop to the ground, then began to limp towards Feverton. The journey in was always shorter than the journey out; something about the Gnarl resisted escape, but it was perfectly content with allowing Gerald back in.


    ¡°Uncle Gerald! You caught something!¡±


    A familiar face waved at him. It was the boy Din, who had become accustomed to pestering Gerald whenever he saw the man.


    ¡°Little devil, of course I did! The Emissaries wouldn¡¯t send someone incompetent to a place like this.¡±


    Din stuck out his tongue. Gerald reciprocated with a rude gesture. Bright laughter startled both.


    ¡°Definitely a frontier town! Good evening, you two. I don¡¯t suppose you could point me to a local guide?¡±


    Gerald turned. The man that stood before him was, down to the jovial grin and glistening armor, a classic storybook knight. Of course, Knight Orders were often more vicious and warlike than tales of them would lead you to believe... and yet, the man was perfect. Something about his face glowed with trustworthiness and charisma.


    You scrutinize the R1 [Hero].


    Gerald¡¯s eyes widened. The [Hero¡¯s] followed suit.


    Earlier than I expected!


    ¡°A fellow Blessed, eh? Hail, and well met! I¡¯m Duncan. Traveling to Marshweld in search of a cult. Would you happen to have heard any rumors?¡±


    Gerald blinked. Finally, the man to gamble on! And he seems so gullible!


    ¡°Indeed I have. I¡¯m Gerald. I grew up in Rivervall, but the Peeking Woods swallowed it up. I passed through Marshweld, but there were a few too many... disappearances. I cleared out pretty quick and learned the lay of the Gnarl instead. Say, I¡¯m a little familiar with the route to Marshweld. May I assist you on your way there?¡±


    Duncan paused. His eyes seemed to weigh Gerald uncomfortably. Then, they flickered to Din and he smiled.


    ¡°Well, of course! I see your virtuous nature reflected in the company you keep. But may I ask... what deity offers [Penitent]?¡±


    He¡¯s nowhere near as gullible as he looks. But I only know of the Jointed Goddess, and that¡¯ll certainly raise his guard... no, wait!


    ¡°The Traveler offers my class, though only in certain niche scenarios.¡±


    Duncan seemed to relax. ¡°Of course. The Traveler¡¯s Guild is a good ally of our Orthodoxy. But then, they are to everyone. I¡¯ll have to look into those scenarios once I¡¯m home; not that I doubt you, but rare classes always fascinate me!¡±


    Gerald smiled. ¡°Of course, sir Duncan.¡±


    My best shot at a target belongs to the Orthodoxy?! I¡¯ve really stepped in it now! But if they¡¯re already investigating the Emissaries of Bone, he¡¯ll find out I¡¯m a liar the moment he learns of other [Penitents]. Shoot, I hope Duncan doesn¡¯t pay much attention to the line about the Emissaries sending me!


    For my self-preservation, there¡¯s only one option! I¡¯ll pretend to guide Duncan while he still trusts me at all, then leave him slaughtered in the woods!

 Chapter 10 - Your Flaw

    Not five steps out of Feverton, Gerald stopped Duncan.


    ¡°Sir, be cautious. The wildlife in the Gnarl of Blood is highly aggressive, especially to those it does not recognize. If you kill anything, this place will know.¡±


    Duncan gulped and stared out at the blood-red succulents. ¡°What an unnatural biome. I hadn¡¯t had space to see it during the caravan. The Peeking Woods should truly be eradicated as soon as possible!¡±


    ¡°Would that it were feasible,¡± Gerald muttered.


    The two set off for many more paces. The mood was grim and quiet. As such, it was only natural that the stillness broke.


    Gerald watched as an Ingestion Hound slipped out from empty air behind Duncan.


    ¡°Duncan, dodge!¡±


    Perhaps it was the sweltering heat. Perhaps it was the heavy armor. Maybe Duncan merely did not trust Gerald enough. Either way, he hesitated slightly.


    The invisible claws tore into his arm. The bracer rent open with a metallic shriek.


    Attack dealt 4 slashing damage to R1 [Hero].


    R1 [Hero] has taken a Major Injury!


    Their Max HP reduced by 3.


    That¡¯s far less actual damage than I took. Does he have some kind of damage reduction Blessing?


    Duncan hissed in pain. Still, he brought his hand to the pommel at his side-


    Gerald¡¯s slap crushed the head of the Ingestion Hound and left two distinct tunnels through it. Duncan reset his stance, then winced.


    ¡°Gah, that was a Major Injury! I¡¯ll have to get it healed by an Orthodoxy [Priest] before we reach Marshweld proper.¡±


    Gerald looked up. ¡°You can do that?!¡±


    If Major Injuries can really be cured without Suzemony, then what am I doing?


    Duncan shifted uncomfortably. ¡°Yes, but the service is only for full devotees. It isn¡¯t offered to... Traveler¡¯s Guild members.¡±


    What had he been about to say before that pause? Strangers? Outsiders? You wound me, Duncan. I¡¯d be more offended if I wasn¡¯t planning to kill you. What a kind gesture that hound was!


    <hr>


    The crimson canopy loomed over Duncan and Gerald. Evening colors tore through it and cast the whole Gnarl in an unearthly light. They had been walking for hours.


    ¡°Are you certain we¡¯re going the right way, Gerald?¡±


    Not at all.


    ¡°I know these woods like the back of my hand,¡± lied Gerald smoothly. ¡°It¡¯s just that our pace is drastically slowed by my injured leg. My apologies. Just a minute longer.¡±


    Duncan paused. There was silence for another few minutes.


    ¡°...You know, Gerald, I¡¯m not that kind of fool. I know there¡¯s something you¡¯re not telling me about all of this. And I heard you mention the Emissaries sent you earlier.¡±


    They both stopped under a fig tree. The shadows stretched into Gerald¡¯s face, bathing him in stark black and ruddy-cheeked red.


    ¡°But,¡± Duncan continued. ¡°I¡¯ll have you know that the Orthodoxy¡¯s power is endless and gentle. Trust in that. If not, trust in my personal boon, Eyes of Justice. You lied to me about knowing the way through these woods. You lied about your affiliation with the Traveler. I can sense you¡¯ve killed people, but only in self-defense. And you were so kind to that child. If you¡¯re being blackmailed by some cult... Now is the time to tell me.¡±


    His mouth was a grim line. The darkness deepened as the sun set. It smelled of wax here.


    ¡°I¡¯m not being blackmailed,¡± Gerald said, and he saw on the Hero¡¯s face that he knew it was true. Duncan slowly reached a hand to the sword at his hip. The tension in the air became a solid, noisy thing.


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    ¡°But nor do I really want to do this.¡± Gerald continued. Both of them paused. In stillness, that tense buzzing became louder and louder. Gerald licked his lips.


    ¡°You know what your flaw is, Duncan? Hesitation.¡±


    Endless insects erupted from the figs. They were headed straight for the [Hero], who had not bloodied his blade for the past day.


    The sword left its sheathe, swinging in a wide, electric arc. Lightning shot through the swarm and cooked half of it.


    Two separate powers at Rank 1?! No, is a personal boon something different? But what sourced the damage reduction?


    Yet more wasps closed in, aiming for Duncan¡¯s injured side. They crammed into the torn armor, stinging and gnawing.


    R1 [Hero]¡¯s Major Injury has worsened!


    Their Max HP reduced by 1.


    R1 [Hero]¡¯s Major Injury has worsened!


    Their Max HP reduced by 1.


    R1 [Hero]¡¯s Major Injury has worsened!


    Their Max HP reduced by 1.


    The horde only had time to inflict a single thorn¡¯s worth of damage. Sparks coursed over Duncan¡¯s body. The rest of the fried wasps hit the ground curled.


    Suddenly, Gerald stood alone against a knight who¡¯d melted an army of pests. His preparations were exhausted, and had only further revealed the difference between them.


    I won¡¯t hesitate!


    Gerald banished his terror and pounced toward Duncan. A light sidestep took the [Hero] out of his reach. The sword drove up in a one-handed disdainful stroke. Moonlight caught on its edge.


    Gerald¡¯s cane smacked the ground and he bounced back from the blade. Even then, a shallow cut opened on his cheek.


    Any wound was enough between Blessed.


    Attack dealt 3 damage to you, R1 [Penitent].


    Like lightning striking the earth, the blade abruptly reversed into a downward cleave; it left another line beside Gerald¡¯s mouth.


    Shock & Awe Strike dealt 4 damage to you, R1 [Penitent].


    HP: 4/11


    Chips of metal and sparks of light fled the sword when it landed. Duncan¡¯s eyes widened. My Aura of Thorns damaged his blade! No matter how perfect the edge is, it can¡¯t take a needle from an angle!


    And now the two were close. Duncan had over-committed for his punishing second swing.


    Gerald planted his one good leg on the downed weapon. The strength of the knight nearly yanked it free immediately.


    Then Gerald, in the same motion, reached out and grabbed the [Hero] by the face.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Hero].


    His palm slapped in as he dragged Duncan¡¯s head forward.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Hero].


    Forgoing his unstable stance on the blade, Gerald brought his knee up to Duncan¡¯s stomach.


    Attack dealt 1 crushing damage to R1 [Hero].


    Aura of Thorns dealt 1 piercing damage to R1 [Hero]


    Damn, it¡¯s that body armor! It protects him from even fellow Blessed!


    The freed longsword whistled through the air toward Gerald.


    If he does that combo again, I¡¯ll be sent to the Vast Underworld! But he has to be low on Holy Power. I¡¯ll bet it all on this last gamble!


    Gerald whipped out a fist. The sword neared his head. The knuckles neared Duncan.


    For the purposes of Gerald¡¯s Aura, near was enough.


    Aura of Thorns dealt 3 piercing damage to R1 [Hero].


    R1 [Hero] perished.


    All R1 conditions met.


    Return to your deity to undergo Suzemony.


    The blade bit into Gerald¡¯s neck.


    Attack dealt 3 slashing damage to you, R1 [Penitent].


    But the hand that swung it was empty of Holy Power; the follow-up never came.


    HP: 1/11

 Chapter 11 - Just Consequences

    The sun had snuffed itself out upon the horizon. In the dark, Gerald began to limp back to Feverton.


    Deep in the Peeking Woods with only a single unit of Holy Power remaining... I can only hope my savagery appeased the Gnarl.


    Gerald bowed as low as he could, hands clasped and fingers knitted. It was a gesture of supplication to the Jointed Goddess. I hope it applies to whatever intelligence animates these malevolent Woods.


    He made his way, flinching at every breeze and rustle. Having traveled farther from the civilized pocket of Feverton than ever before, Gerald was uncertain if the Woods would even let him return.


    I can¡¯t think like that. I¡¯ll return. I must.


    But he had traveled fifty steps and not left the twisted boughs of the fig tree... Honorable Duncan¡¯s body seemed to leer at him from each gloomy patch of ground.


    I was too rash! Nightfall is always dangerous for travelers... Monstrous beasts, of course, but every landmark looks the same dyed in black. And that¡¯s without accounting for the Gnarl¡¯s effects on distance!


    If I can just return to the Jointed Chapel, I¡¯ll have my Suzemony...


    But Gerald was lost.


    The corpse on the ground was changing. It wasn¡¯t just Duncan¡¯s anymore. Red entrails spiraled from its stomach, crawled across the ground, draped onto the branches like a spiderweb. Fig-leaves festooned in rot. A malicious haze rolled from between the reaching branches.


    Gerald knew it then. I am somewhere hallowed. Sacred, but not to me. The knowledge appeared to him as a shape he¡¯d memorized by heart, if not mind. Upon the first page of the Book of Prophecy and Nonequivalence was a passage he¡¯d never quite been able to make out:


    You¡¯ll stand in the grove of the Gutted Man.


    It is the curse of every oracular vision to remain as gibberish until destiny has revealed itself. By then, it¡¯s too late.


    The air itself hates me!


    Gerald prostrated himself before the body, quivering.


    I¡¯m going to die. This before me is a death more complete than by Anna¡¯s sacrificial dagger. In a metaphysical manner, I stumbled off a hundred-meter cliff! I¡¯m free-falling deeper into this foreign deity¡¯s domain every moment... I¡¯ll die as soon as I hit the metaphorical ground!


    It¡¯s as inevitable as gravity.


    Gerald did the only thing he knew how to do.


    ¡°I have done violence upon your sacramental grounds. I have partaken in the parasitic fruit called malice. I have forgotten the value of a life. Please, I beg you! Set me free as a different being; as if a wasp through ruptured skin!¡±


    He made himself small.


    I want to live! For that, I¡¯ll give up everything I am!


    The wind cackled through the trees. Gerald knocked his forehead against the muddy ground. His teeth ground against each other.


    Feed off my desperation, but don¡¯t take my life!


    The sensation of falling slowed. For a moment, Gerald¡¯s soul hung motionless, inspected by something he couldn¡¯t see. Then:


    Physical pain! Burning, heavy lungs! Wet wounds and sulfur stench! Gnawing teeth upon incinerated flesh! Drowning in my own blood!


    Spiritual pain! Needles in the grieving heart! Endless weight making thoughts sluggish! Boredom! Drowning in my own blood!


    Every part of him was in agreement:


    This hurts like hell!


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    What is it doing to me?!


    And the answer branded itself upon his Blessing.


    (Passive) Gutted Man¡¯s Boon [Minor] L.1 ¡Ñ?


    You may possess as many Boons as your Rank.


    Major Injuries within ten meters worsen by 2 (Level + Rank) Max HP every 8 minutes.


    [Minor] bonus: When you become splattered in fresh blood, recover 2 (Level + Rank + 35% per Endurance) HP throughout the next 6 seconds.


    Gerald felt himself being gathered up by the air around him, then flung. Trees flashed past. It¡¯s a slingshot. No, it¡¯s spitting me out with force!


    The whirling space resolved itself into a dark country road. It was familiar to Gerald; he lay, dizzy and gasping, on the very route his caravan had taken to Feverton. Right behind him was the boundary of the Gnarl.


    Gerald ignored the mild friction burns over his arms and legs. He simply stared out to the horizon, where the gleaming tower of Civil Outreach was a distant spark.


    I¡¯m out. I¡¯ll make it home!


    He caught his breath, then chuckled. Then erupted into laughter, slapping the ground with his palms. He didn¡¯t know how long he celebrated hysterically.


    Your Major Injury has worsened!


    Your Max HP reduced by 2.


    HP: 1/9


    Gerald jolted from his stupor. With a pit growing in his stomach, he read the Gutted Man¡¯s Boon properly.


    Major Injuries near me will worsen... even my own?


    He hauled himself onto his cane. There¡¯s no time to waste.


    He limped forward.


    He rushed over the wispy grass.


    His leg ached.


    Gerald nearly stumbled on a rock. The deep night mocked him overhead.


    His stomach rumbled with hunger.


    His breaths came as ragged smoke.


    Your Major Injury has worsened!


    Your Max HP reduced by 2.


    HP: 1/7


    And the horizon was no closer. Gerald stopped to gasp into the dark. I can¡¯t do this. If only I hadn¡¯t gone out at night to kill a man. If I hadn¡¯t buckled under Father Ache¡¯s goading... If I had both legs... If I hadn¡¯t been so belligerently drunk... If I hadn¡¯t left my family.


    If I hadn¡¯t left my family. That¡¯s the real mistake I made! Everything else was just consequences.


    The [Penitent] bowed his head.


    Then he grit his teeth and continued down the packed dirt road.


    The wide, distant moon was the only celestial body in the sky.


    It shone down on his muddy footprints.


    Gerald hiked onward with unfocused eyes.


    There was a distant rumbling.


    Your Major Injury has worsened!


    Your Max HP reduced by 2.


    HP: 1/5


    He hit the ground prone and couldn¡¯t get up again.


    He began to crawl.


    The rumbling grew into a thunderous roar.


    ¡°Good lord! It¡¯s that Emissary. He looks half-dead!¡±


    Many hands were lifting him onto a stretcher. Gerald focused his gaze on a familiar mother.


    ¡°Desmond¡¯s safe,¡± he rasped to her. ¡°But I¡¯ll die if I don¡¯t reach the Jointed Chapel in the next few minutes.¡±


    The shock in her eyes shattered under the weight of determination. Through a delirious haze, he felt himself being slung around a horse¡¯s back. He woke and fainted several times; the galloping sent vibrations through his feeble body.


    Your Major Injury has worsened!


    Your Max HP reduced by 2.


    HP: 1/3


    He was barely conscious.


    I won¡¯t...


    Your Major Injury has worsened!


    Your Max HP reduced by 2.


    HP: 1/1


    ...


    You¡¯ve returned to your deity.


    Would you like to undergo Suzemony?


    ...


    ...Yes.

 Chapter 12 - Pupa Splits

    Gerald was engulfed in grasping tenebrous hands. The caress of the Jointed Goddess slid over every inch of him, folding away his aches and pains.


    Your Major Injuries were treated.


    HP: 18/18


    Her palms began to knead and transform his flesh. It softened and gave way; like clay in the grip of an experienced potter. And still the fingers tightened.


    The first crack rang through his body.


    Was that my skeleton? There was no pain. In fact, swaddled in Her embrace, Gerald felt nothing at all. He was wholly numb. For some reason, he wanted to be terrified.


    I''m in the grip of an entity that could snap me like a twig, he reminded himself. If She were truly malicious, I''d already be dead.


    The sound of more cracking bones crawled throughout his body. There was something dispassionate and surgical about the way she broke him apart. But surgeries and amputations are supposed to be painful. Right now I feel...


    Gerald was aware of the bone shards in his body fusing back together. Right now he was alive by grace of his full HP alone. But something divine was seeping into his marrow, now.


    HP: 19/19


    She''s improving me, he realized. My body is being reshaped to hold more of Her Blessing.


    His HP continued to climb as he fused back together. Eventually...


    HP: 23/23


    Gerald felt content; his body was healthier than it had ever been. And still, Her Blessing gave more to him.


    You''ve been promoted to Rank 2.


    Select one new power to develop:


    (Passive) Fist as Weaponry


    Offered for displaying proficiency in barehanded combat. You may only possess one Weapon skill.


    Attacks made without physical weaponry deal 5 (Level + Rank + 35% per Core) bonus damage.


    A cut-and-dry damage increase? Surely there are better options, but it makes a fine fallback. Best of all, it grows with my Core Ace!


    (Active) Inequal Rite [Minor]


    Offered to all [Penitents]. Upgraded for reading one truth from the Book of Prophecy and Nonequivalence.


    If you¡¯ve been struck by anything with higher cumulative Aces in the last minute: Increase your Attack by at least 1 and at most 5 (Level + Rank + 45% per Core) for the next two blows you strike. Cannot activate from the same target¡¯s blows more than once a day.


    [Minor] bonus: While the condition is satisfied, your Aura has triple its usual radius.


    Ah, no wonder [Penitents] never reach Rank 3. To undergo Suzemony, you need to kill someone on your own. But this is an ability that shows its worth only if you have several weaker [Penitents] in the same battle!


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    Have an [Acolyte] with higher stats strike the first [Penitent]. They gain 5 Attack. They strike the next in line, who gains 4 Attack... and so on. Then you send all of them to dog-pile on your target.


    It''s a power uniquely suited to cannon fodder!


    In my case, the [Minor] bonus might redeem it. It''s worth thinking about after I see the other options.


    (Passive) Aura of Regeneration [Minor]


    (Replaces Aura of Thorns)


    Offered for living a month with a Major Injury. You may only possess one Aura skill. As you already possess an Aura skill, Its value has been upgraded to Minor.


    You and nearby allies recover 5 (Level + Rank + 40% per Core) HP throughout 8 seconds.


    [Minor] bonus: Once a month, you may flare this Aura to heal Major Injuries for 8 seconds as well.


    As vastly useful as this would be for anyone else, I have no desire to neuter my attacking power. Not with Father Ache''s demands looming over me.


    It might suit Desmond, though. I wonder if his constitution counts as a Major Injury?


    I should stay away from him so we don''t have to find out.


    (Passive) Aura of Thorns [Minor]


    (Upgrades Aura of Thorns)


    Upgraded for killing 50 aggressors with Aura of Thorns.


    [Minor] bonus: After receiving an Attack, you may flare this Aura to mirror the wound to the aggressor at a third the potency.


    Fifty aggressors? Oh, right, the Figwasps!


    Now this is interesting. If it weren''t for how the Gutted Man''s Boon functions, I might be tempted to take this upgrade now. Imagine if it didn''t weaken me, too! I''d be able to reflect a Major Injury to my attacker, then keep my distance as they succumb to the wounds they chose to inflict. Not terribly honorable, but very effective.


    It''s a shame, then, that any strategy that revolves around me being injured is even more of a gamble than it would otherwise be.


    Well, let''s see the next option.


    ...Nothing. Gerald''s heart sank into his stomach.


    I should have expected it. Of course the [Penitent] class''s choices are all generic or self-flagellant.


    In the end, what decided it for Gerald was potential.


    Fist as Weaponry is, at this moment, stronger and more consistent than Inequal Rite. But Inequal Rite scales far better with my Core Ace, which I expect I¡¯ll be able to increase now that I¡¯ve reached Rank 2. It¡¯s worth it. It¡¯s extremely worth it!


    And so the hands of the Jointed Goddess separated locked fingers over his body; a pupa splits. Candlelight again shone bright into Gerald¡¯s eyes. He was lying upon the pulpit under Father Ache¡¯s watchful gaze.


    ¡°May our Lady bend our fate,¡± chorused the congregation, filtering away into the darkness. Gerald flicked his gaze to his Blessing.


    Class: [Penitent]


    HP: 23/23


    RANK: [2]


    Points: 1


    Attack: 1


    Core: 2


    Endurance: 1


    Speed: 2


    (Passive) Aura of Thorns L.1


    Enemies that make contact with your body take 4 (Level + Rank + 30% per Core) piercing damage.


    (Active) Inequal Rite [Minor] L.1 ¡Ñ?


    If you¡¯ve been struck by anything with higher cumulative Aces in the last minute: Increase your Attack by at least 1 and at most 5 (Level + Rank + 45% per Core) for the next two blows you strike. Cannot activate from the same target more than once a day.


    [Minor] bonus: While the condition is satisfied, your Aura has triple its usual radius.


    (Passive) Gutted Man¡¯s Boon [Minor] L.1 ¡Ñ?


    Major Injuries within ten meters worsen by 3 (Level + Rank) Max HP every 8 minutes.


    [Minor] bonus: When you become splattered in fresh blood, recover 4 (Level + Rank + 35% per Endurance) HP throughout the next 6 seconds.


    And he rose on his own two legs.

 Chapter 13 - Deific Factions

    Gerald and Father Ache locked gazes in the gloom. Rows of empty pews faced them both. Flickering candlelight danced upon the seats.


    The Father¡¯s voice was the first to break the silence.


    ¡°As expected, [Penitent] Gerald, you have risen to meet the occasion of Rank 2. How did it feel?¡±


    Gerald only nodded. The depth of his usual bow had reduced greatly.


    ¡°There was no honor in the act, Father.¡±


    The chuckle that followed was far more human than Gerald remembered of the Father recently. Must be since we¡¯re still in public. It¡¯s the kind of laugh he would have revealed to Gerald the drunkard.


    ¡°Not that,¡± he replied, flicking his withered hand dismissively. A manic gleam came over his eyes. ¡°How was your Suzemony?¡±


    Gerald cocked his head. ¡°I don¡¯t understand. It was... alien. Not painful, but not pleasant either.¡±


    Father Ache frowned. ¡°[Penitent] Gerald, Suzemony is the most rapturous thing an [Acolyte] can experience. It is a moment of great closeness with the Jointed Goddess. Take care to savor it in the future.¡±


    I suspect it must be different for the punished, Gerald thought but did not say.


    Father Ache turned his disappointed face to the side. Warm light shone at the edges of his profile; gathering in wrinkles on the bridge of his nose.


    ¡°That said, you might not have another chance to experience Suzemony,¡± he muttered. ¡°Regardless, you¡¯ve uncapped the Level of your first skill. Look upon your Blessing; above the Aces, you will see a new piece of information.¡±


    Gerald checked.


    Points: 1


    Attack: 1


    Core: 2


    Endurance: 1


    Speed: 2


    ¡°It is so, Father.¡±


    ¡°Whenever you increase the level of a power¡ªsuch as, for instance, your Aura of Thorns¡ªyou will receive a single Point. The Point can be invested into any of the four Aces to increase its value by one.¡±


    Gerald blinked. ¡°Then wouldn¡¯t those closest to Suzemony have an advantage in battle over those who have been recently elevated?¡±


    ¡°Indeed... Moreover, elevated is a good way to describe it. Suzemony itself is derived from the old tongue''s root word ¡®susum¡¯, which means upward. And of course, the act ends much like ¡®ceremony¡¯.¡±


    There was a short silence after that pronouncement.


    ¡°I did not take you for a linguist, Father.¡±


    Father Ache chuckled. ¡°To be a student of the occult is to research all fields in search of hidden knowledge. But I forget myself. We are here to discuss the leveling process. All you need to do is practice your power frequently. Simple, right?¡±


    Gerald held his tongue. The old priest flicked him a smile and then went on.


    ¡°For an [Acolyte], it is simple to train. They must activate Joint Lock on a large number of targets. But tell me, [Penitent] Gerald, how often do you encounter true enemies acknowledged by your power? How often do you expect to be able to use that power in peacetime?¡±


    More than you''d expect, but I want to see where this sales pitch goes.


    ¡°Not often, Father.¡±


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    Father Ache''s curled lip could not quite be called a smile.


    ¡°It would you take a year of opportunistic practice or a month of reckless, suicidal behavior to become eligible for Rank 3. In fact, I know a place that will feed vicious beasts to the flame of your experience. At the nearest edge of the Orthodoxy¡¯s reach, there lies the City of Accursed: Undergrowth. Three deific factions war in its alleys. Would you care to represent the fourth?¡±


    Gerald''s eyes flicked back and forth.


    I suspect I could train just as well on the beasts of the Gnarl, but...


    Gerald recalled crawling intestinal webbing, red worms, grinning eye-sockets. He shuddered. Never again. I refuse to step foot in that place.


    Gerald spoke up: ¡°If you''ll allow me the honor, I would request a detachment of [Penitent] forces to accompany me in Undergrowth, as well as all available information on the Accursed we may encounter.¡±


    Father Ache raised a black feather of an eyebrow.


    ¡°No [Acolytes]? You should understand that indicates a lack of trust in our Lady''s caste system. The other high-ranking believers will develop grudges.¡±


    He''s not content to commit [Penitents] alone to this. Why? Does he fear that I will create a splinter faction? Upset his carefully-crafted balance of control? Or does he value [Penitents] more than he lets on?


    Gerald grit his teeth.


    And I have no idea if he''s warning me about the other [Acolytes] or merely through them. Thus, the only safe move is...


    ¡°I do not wish to have my command usurped... but it cannot be helped. Very well; send two Rank 1 [Acolytes] with me, including Anna. I shall return them at the cusp of Rank 2.¡±


    Concessions!


    Father Ache grinned wolfishly. ¡°I shall grant your requests, [Penitent] Gerald.¡±


    ¡°...And how is little Desmond?¡±


    ¡°Oh, he''s made quite an impression on the [Acolytes] who stay in the Chapel proper. The boy takes in our materials well. Admirable, for an outsider. He may be Blessed when he comes of age.¡±


    Gerald''s eyes hardened. ¡°Surely, Father, the world of Blessed is no place for a child!¡±


    ¡°Do not take that tone with me,¡± snapped Father Ache. ¡°That is why we are waiting until his adulthood. I know full well how cruel fate can be to children, [Penitent].¡±


    Gerald recoiled as if slapped.


    ¡°...Forgive me, Father. I forgot my place in the height of passion.¡±


    ¡°See that you do not forget again.¡±


    Father Ache searched Gerald''s expression, then nodded briskly. ¡°You''ll have your regiment by Tuesday. May our Lady bend our fate.¡±


    Gerald turned at the dismissal. ¡°May our Lady bend our fate,¡± he murmured.


    <hr>


    Gerald massaged his eyes as he read of the factions that had laid claim to Undergrowth. The report was positively brimming with flowery language that filled him with a deeper headache each line.


    Most of it is Lady Brenda¡¯s work, no doubt. I can¡¯t believe I have to take notes on these notes!


    His quill flew over the parchment, summarizing, picking apart.


    First to arrive, but weakest of the three: the heretical followers of God Hypnagog, who ruled dreams, persistence, and altered states. The group had access to only one class: [Hypnotist]. Reports gathered from the Traveler¡¯s Guild indicated they could extend the duration of any mundane affliction; from poison, to sleep, to even burning. It wasn¡¯t known what [Hypnotists] could do at higher ranks.


    Next came the [Preceptors] of shattered Goddess Moon Omen. Moon Omen ruled over mystery and fragility while alive; now, in death, her domain had reduced itself to stillness and nothing else. The [Preceptors] were numerous. They were somehow still able to undergo Suzemony, despite the fact that dead deities should not exist to promote their Accursed. However, the main power that they wielded had been extensively documented, so they found it difficult to establish a foothold in Undergrowth.


    In essence, their power was much like Joint Lock. [Preceptors] could enforce stillness on an area; those who refused to abide by this rule would accumulate psychological torments. If the [Hypnotists] had been unaware of the rule in advance, they might have been defeated en masse.


    As it was, they merely had to sit still whenever [Preceptors] approached and ignore their jeers. There was a tenuous balance between the two forces. The fact was that both the Accursed factions had little in the way of direct combat power.


    Thus entered the followers of wicked Goddess Pulsar, who ruled blood, conquest, and tempo. Unlike the other two factions, Pulsar had two classes to bestow: [Dancer] and [Carver]. They had appeared in the last two weeks, throwing Undergrowth¡¯s delicate economy into disarray with sprouting brothels and underground arenas. They had not yet made real moves to evict Hypnagog, but were locked in open war with Moon Omen. The power of enforced stillness was anathema to Pulsar¡¯s [Dancers] and [Carvers] both, stalling their advance.


    It was into this tumultuous situation that Gerald would lead a group of only seven Blessed.


    Including himself.


    I should ask for more men!

 Chapter 14 - My Fault

    The day after he¡¯d finished studying the reports, Gerald knocked politely against the door to Anna¡¯s quarters. A vicious shout came from inside: ¡°I told you, go away!¡±


    He cleared his throat. ¡°[Acolyte] Anna, it¡¯s Gerald.¡±


    It swung open. Anna stood there, tear-streaked and furious. Her sour expression didn¡¯t vanish when she saw him standing there, but it did soften.


    ¡°You made it,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m...¡±


    Glad you survived? But she didn¡¯t have the heart to say it. An unexpected awkward pause hung in the air.


    Gerald managed to paper a smile over his grimace.


    I¡¯m her superior within the Emissaries¡¯ caste system, at least until she reaches Rank 2. I hadn¡¯t considered it until now. Of course she¡¯s uncomfortable! Her whole life, she¡¯s been told that she belongs above [Penitents]. Then I humbled her and even surpassed her Rank. The fact she holds no resentment for me is both a stroke of luck and a testament to her character. I can¡¯t expect it from the other [Acolytes].


    ¡°I¡¯m here to discuss the details of our coming expedition to Undergrowth.¡±


    ¡°Oh,¡± she said, schooling her expression into impassivity. ¡°Of course. Can I offer you some water? I understand wine is off the table.¡±


    ¡°Yes, water would be appreciated. I stayed up far too late while planning our route... forgot to care for my more mundane needs.¡±


    Gerald didn¡¯t comment on her tears. What she needs right now is normality. He plopped himself down on a wooden chair and thanked Anna for the offered mug. She hovered about like a nervous dragonfly.


    ¡°Please, [Acolyte] Anna. Sit. I know our relationship has been mostly formal, but this is a time of celebration for me¡ª and a moment of opportunity for you.¡±


    She did so. Now the anxiousness in her expression was mostly hidden behind a veneer of professionalism.


    Normally, I¡¯d find something to reprimand her for. It would put her off-balance socially, and I¡¯d be able to establish a dominant position to negotiate from; this is essential, as I plan to uplift two [Acolytes] to Rank 2. They¡¯d outrank me afterwards, so I need some kind of leverage...


    Gerald watched Anna nervously tap the sides of her armchair. Auburn hair framed her sharp, businesslike face. Her eyes were the same blue as...


    She looks so much like my daughter.


    Do I really need to manipulate her? It¡¯s a lot of effort, and it might end up souring our dynamic rather than fostering loyalty. And...


    Gerald sighed.


    ¡°What¡¯s wrong?¡±


    ¡°I feel so heavy, [Acolyte] Anna. I hope you never have to understand. it¡¯s my...¡±


    He trailed off.


    She tilted her head. ¡°But Blessed don¡¯t get aches in old age like regular people. In the absence of Injuries, our bodies fail all at once. It¡¯s why Father Ache¡¯s blindness is speculated to be part of a Boon or a mystical wound. Since class powers never come with explicit downsides.¡±


    Gerald smiled placidly. ¡°Oh. I wasn¡¯t aware of that.¡±


    There was another pause. This time, only Anna found it awkward.


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    ¡°[Acolyte] Anna,¡± Gerald started. ¡°I plan to bring you to Rank 2 before the other [Acolyte] in our expedition. You¡¯ll capitalize on that head start and never fall behind them. Is that clear?¡±


    The surprise on her face was overtaken by unguarded delight. ¡°Yes! I mean- Yes, [Penitent] Gerald. But how will you do it? You can¡¯t guarantee we¡¯ll meet a Rank 1 on the road to Undergrowth, and once we¡¯re in the city proper they¡¯ll be everywhere! You won¡¯t be able to stop the others from dueling at that point.¡±


    ¡°I don¡¯t plan to rely on chance encounters. This kind of journey is simply dangerous for Rank 1 [Penitents]. If one of ours happens to sustain an Injury¡ªand trust me, that¡¯s nearly guaranteed¡ªwe will have little choice but to sacrifice them to you and return for reinforcements.¡±


    She blinked. ¡°Wise and expedient.¡±


    Gerald felt strangely dissatisfied. My daughter should have more compunctions.


    ¡°But,¡± she went on, reading the dissatisfaction on his face, ¡°Are you really okay with endangering others of the same class? Isn¡¯t that a little...¡±


    She gestured vaguely.


    Gerald laughed. ¡°[Acolyte] Anna, Rank 1 [Penitents] are nothing like me. If I could accomplish Suzemony while injured and feeble, surely they could do the same if they only had the will!¡±


    Her expression brightened. ¡°I suppose you¡¯re correct about that. Yes... I see. An animal is always an animal, but anything with willpower can become a man on its own inherent merit.¡±


    Gerald suppressed his shudder. You buy into things too quickly! Someone needs to teach you not to be so gullible!


    But that someone isn¡¯t me, Anna. It¡¯s great that you¡¯ve learned to separate me from other [Penitents] in your mind. That worldview will serve you well in dehumanizing the others while still remaining an effective partner-in-command to me.


    ¡°Say, [Acolyte] Anna, do you know of [Acolyte] Ribb? He¡¯s been assigned to the expedition alongside you. What can you tell me of his temperament?¡±


    Anna bit her lip. ¡°He¡¯s a little strange, but he¡¯s not a bad person. Just make sure to keep his tent away from ours.¡±


    Gerald tilted his head.


    ¡°Why so?¡±


    ¡°He fights in his sleep.¡±


    <hr>


    In the hallowed blue halls of the Orthodoxy, light cascaded through arched windows and kissed throne-room tiles. Rows of [Priests] stood at attention, each clean-shaven and bald. Their solemn lines painted the background.


    Upon the central dais stood [Thrombulist] Duncan, fourth of his name. The lines in his face were deepened with worry as he watched the [Priests] conjure holy water into the pool before him. [Scriers] peered into the ripples and waves. Eventually, they marched over to line up in front of Duncan.


    Three raised their left hand. None raised their right.


    Duncan¡¯s face darkened with fury and grief. He did not speak, except to dismiss the [Scriers]. It was the third time he had requested this ritual from the Farseer¡¯s Union, and the second time he had received the same result conclusively.


    My son is dead! He went off to be a [Hero] instead of a [Priest], and died in some backwater!


    It¡¯s all my fault. If I hadn¡¯t allowed him to pursue that class... If I had prepared him more thoroughly for the treacheries of the outskirts... If only!


    Duncan IV did not grit his teeth. He was too important, now, to rage in public. Moreover, his political rivals were vultures seeking weakness.


    ¡°I¡¯m retiring to my chambers,¡± he told the [Priests] who attended him. They shuffled off, still in rows, moving like caterpillars across the grass.


    Duncan walked a familiar route through the Orthodoxy complex and felt more lost than ever before. When he reached his humble room, he locked the door and sighed.


    Then he began to scream.


    ¡°Argh! Mother-fucker! Piece of rat shit!"


    He picked up a chair and smashed it against the ground. He splintered his desk with a mighty slap. He pounced on the bed and shattered its frame.


    "It¡¯s not my fault!¡±


    When he stood, not the least bit winded, in a pulverized room, Duncan IV dusted off his robes.


    He was investigating reports of a cult, wasn¡¯t he? The Emissaries of Bone... I¡¯ll have them all executed! Put to stake and tortured in miserable manners!


    He opened the door and waved a servant over. His face was once again stone.


    ¡°I¡¯m of a mind to file for Holy War. Bring the paperwork. And I would like to redecorate; find me a new bed and... a chest of drawers, perhaps.¡±

 Chapter 15 - Butchery

    The paved road to Undergrowth was a pale scar upon the swampland. Along its length, Gerald led a single-file procession.


    Following closely behind him was [Acolyte] Anna. Her bright, watery eyes swept over the marsh. Every time a branch moved in the wind, or a frog stirred a current, she would snap her gaze to it warily, thumbing the cleaver at her side. It was her first time leaving the Jointed Chapel¡¯s grounds for an extended period. Some anxiety, Gerald reflected, is only natural.


    The second [Acolyte]¡ªRibb¡ªwas dragging his feet. Often he slowed enough to obstruct the [Penitents] behind him; one would poke him gently in the back, and he¡¯d sprint up to Anna once more. Far be it from me to question the judgment of Father Ache, but... I¡¯m doing just that. Is Ribb really worth the effort of carrying to Suzemony? He seems careless.


    Behind Ribb, four [Penitents] were a shapeless, hooded mass. They kept their heads bowed and their faces obscured. Gerald¡¯s thoughts were harshest to them.


    Weaklings.


    The seven had set out in the morning. Now the sun was looming just above the horizon. Night would soon fall; tents and a watch were necessary.


    Gerald turned around to coordinate his party. At that moment, he saw in the extreme distance...


    A plume of smoke.


    It rose from the position of the Jointed Chapel. Beside the sprouting dark pillar, there were grand flashes of Blessed lightning visible to even Gerald.


    Shamefully, his first thought was not of Desmond.


    The Jointed Chapel is under siege! Father certainly won¡¯t spare additional men for my mission to Undergrowth.


    No, that¡¯s not the problem. A deity derives power from its worshipers, after all... Oh no. I get it! We¡¯re a contingency plan for the worst-case scenario! If Father Ache somehow perishes, the Jointed Goddess will live on in Undergrowth.


    Provided I can complete my mission, that is.


    ¡°[Penitent] Gerald?¡±


    Anna followed his gaze and tilted her head.


    Why can¡¯t she see it? No, rather, why could I notice it over such a vast distance?


    Gerald shook the cobwebs free from his brain. ¡°Right. [Penitents], set up our tents. No fire. We don¡¯t know what kinds of beasts lurk in the night around here.¡±


    Also, I refuse to give away our position to the Orthodoxy!


    The robes shuffled about, producing packs, hammering stakes. Gerald oversaw them without lifting a finger.


    Instead he turned his head to Ribb, smiling thinly. ¡°[Acolyte] Ribb, I¡¯ve been told you need a personal tent due to your affliction. I regret that an extra tent was not possible to procure for you. Will accommodations with one other serve?¡±


    Ribb shrugged. His deep crow''s feet and wide eyelids made him seem perpetually dazed. ¡°...[Penitent] Gerald. My roommate would still be in danger. But I fail to see how that would be necessary.¡±


    ¡°Is that so?¡±


    ¡°Yes. We''re seven travelers. An odd number. You say I need to bunk, but... no matter how you slice us, the only way I''d need a roommate is if another person was sleeping alone instead of me.¡±


    Gerald motioned him to continue. After a slight moment''s pause, Ribb did.


    ¡°If there were four two-person tents, I could sleep alone in the fourth. If there were three three-person tents, I could rest by myself in the third. On the other hand... if the number of tents were lacking, I would need to sleep cramped together with at least two others. But you didn''t say two. You said ¡®one other¡¯.¡±


    He''s sharp! I fell for his dopey facade!


    ¡°[Penitent] Gerald,¡± continued Ribb. ¡°If you want me to discipline someone, order me honestly. This cloak and dagger chicanery is beneath us.¡±


    And he¡¯s got a scholar¡¯s vocabulary! What the hell is chicanery?


    Gerald cleared his throat. ¡°Of course. My apologies. I¡¯d like you to break...¡±


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    He gestured to one of the penitents as they hammered away.


    ¡°His arm.¡±


    Ribb¡¯s gaze was intense. ¡°Nothing else?¡±


    Gerald met it calmly. ¡°Of course not. Despite this necessary punishment, we still need to travel as a unit through much dangerous wilderness.¡±


    Ribb nodded. The suspicion on his face eased up. The [Penitent] swung his hammer at the instant his elbow joint locked up. By then, it was too late to stop the momentum.


    The sound of shattering bone echoed through the dark marshland. The other Rank 1 [Penitents] winced in collective sympathy.


    That should be enough to qualify as a Major Injury.


    ¡°Our Lady!¡± swore Gerald, jogging over to the injured [Penitent]. ¡°What happened, lad?¡±


    Though he was sure they were far enough away that his command wasn¡¯t overheard, the [Penitent] still stared with fear and suspicion. His gaze flicked between Gerald, who was immediately before him, and Ribb, who watched the proceedings from a distance with an eerie amount of focus.


    ¡°Nothing, [Penitent] Gerald,¡± gulped the man. ¡°I must¡¯ve pulled something swinging too hard.¡±


    He must assume the [Acolyte] inflicted the wound behind my back... but he doesn¡¯t even have the guts to accuse Ribb?


    Weaklings, the lot of them.


    ¡°A worrisome omen. You rest for now, then, and consider what you might have done for fate to turn against you so.¡±


    ...


    Eight minutes later, Gerald knew the Major Injury must have worsened. After all, it was within the range of the Gutted Man¡¯s Boon.


    (Passive) Gutted Man¡¯s Boon [Minor] L.1 ¡Ñ?


    Major Injuries within ten meters worsen by 3 Max HP every 8 minutes.


    [Minor] bonus: When you become splattered in fresh blood, recover 4 HP throughout the next 6 seconds.


    But the only sign was a slight grimace at the side of the aggrieved party¡¯s mouth. He made no move to inform Gerald, content to bear it.


    That won¡¯t do at all. After I ¡®failed to notice¡¯ Ribb¡¯s attack, he seems to have lost trust in me as a leader.


    The tents were complete now. Healthy [Penitents] were rolling dice to decide the watch. Gerald wandered up to them.


    ¡°I''ll take the first shift with your injured fellow. You three rest well.¡±


    They bowed.


    Night had truly fallen now. Gloom leaned out from the trees and dripped into marsh puddles. The world was only lit by starlight.


    Sixteen minutes later, the [Penitent] beside Gerald moaned in despair.


    ¡°What''s the matter?¡±


    ¡°[Penitent] Gerald, my injury...¡±


    The robe pulled up his sleeve, revealing a human arm. Spreading from his elbow was a spider-web of lacerations. It had already overtaken the [Penitent''s] shoulder and wrist. Even now, flakes of red drifted from the wound. They hit the ground softly; like snow.


    So that''s what it looks like, thought Gerald. It''s far too conspicuous.


    ¡°Oh, good lady!¡± he wailed. ¡°What kind of terrible curse has befallen you?! I''m afraid you are fated to perish!¡±


    The party¡ªexcept Ribb¡ªstumbled from their tents at this, bleary-eyed and frightened.


    ¡°[Acolyte] Anna. Though it pains me to say it, he will not survive the night. Do him a mercy and carry out his expulsion to the Vast Underworld.¡±


    The [Penitent] rose on shaky feet. Realization dawned in his expression as he stared at Gerald.


    Curse me to your last breath. Or fight back. Struggle! Show me your life has value!


    He squared his stance and turned to Anna. Fists raised. From his cracked lips:


    ¡°I never had a chance. Why resort to this?¡±


    Not like that! You''re full of openings! Have you ever even fought someone barehanded?!


    Anna slid the cleaver from her belt. Moonlight glinted on its edge. It was no sacrificial dagger, enchanted by Father Ache to bring certain death. But it was enough.


    ¡°May you find peace in the Vast Underworld.¡± she intoned.


    Her first slash cut deep into the sacrifice''s injured arm. He howled, bestial, as he drove the other fist into Anna''s stomach. She stumbled back. Frowned.


    And then began the second reason Gerald avoided Fist as Weaponry.


    Anna danced out of range.


    For Blessed, glancing blows were enough. The [Penitent] swung and charged wildly, but he was never close enough to strike back. Anna''s blade was cautious, biding its time until the moment where the man overextended.


    There was a glint of starlight. A wide cut opened on his chest.


    Her cleaver picked up nicks and chips from the aura. Anna herself was unharmed.


    The dance continued. Gerald saw the other [Penitent''s] mounting desperation. It was in the little things. A reckless charge. A wild swing. His gnashing teeth, under the hood.


    Of course, this revealed further openings.


    When Anna stood over the corpse, exhaling softly, she had only taken one blow. It was the punch from the start.


    I expected nothing and was still disappointed. The other [Penitents] lack that enduring, human spirit! It''s practically butchery.


    Gerald stared at the savaged body. He realized he was hyperventilating.


    They''re only animals. They must not be human. Or...


    That night, Gerald couldn''t sleep.