《Thirteen and One》


 Chapter 1 - Thirteen

    When she became, there was an arrangement of instruments, playing a terrible symphony of horrific beauty that announced her birth. From the depths of her mind, a flood of hatred and wrath emerged, overwhelming everything within her. She had been called, forced into a world she was no part of, and she could not resist.


    Her eyes shot open, and she stood in an old chamber with walls of brick, four pillars holding up the ceiling, torches placed around them to illuminate this room. She looked around in uncontrolled fury, hissing.


    Her eyes fell on the shape of a person, dressed in dark robes, carrying naught but a stick, but it smelled familiar, a stench she despised even though she had never encountered it before. ¡°Hazel,¡± she hissed, but she noticed it too late.


    The hazel stick swung left and right, then above and even in this cave she could tell that left was east and right was west. The stick left behind a trail of faint light, and the three swings formed a triangle in the air between her and the stranger.


    Clicking her tongue, she refused to move. Her instincts, her entire being told her not to step into it. But then, the stranger raised his voice, old and creaking.


    ¡°Behold thy confusion if thou refusest to be obedient! Behold the Pentacle of Nomolos which I have brought here before thy presence!¡± He recited an incantation she knew, yet had never heard, but she could feel the words enter her mind, clinging onto it. She roared in defiance, but because of the triangle, she could not get close and stop the stranger.


    Panicked, she turned to run away, but there was nothing to escape through, she was trapped.


    ¡°Behold the person of the exorcist in the midst of the exorcism; him who is armed by God and without fear; him who potently invokes thee and calleth thee forth unto appearance; even him, thy master, who is called Octinimios.¡±


    His words halted her in her steps, her roaring died down as she slowly began to lose control of her own body.


    ¡°Wherefore make rational answer unto my demands, and prepare to be obedient unto thy master in the name of the Lord: BATHAL AND VATHAT RUSHING UPON ABRAC! ABEOR COMING UPON ABERER!¡±


    She could feel Bathal, Vathat and Abeor upon her, dragging her forward as she lost any chance to resist. Her rage that had seemed so all encompassing and inevitable, subsided. They pulled her into the triangle and she knelt before the stranger in complete obedience.


    The stranger raised his left hand, a ring of silver around his middle finger which he pressed against his face as he approached.


    ¡°Welcome O most noble king! I say thou art welcome unto me, because I have called thee through Him who has created Heaven and Earth, and Hell, and all that is in them contained, and because thou hast obeyed,¡± he spoke, his voice was pleasant, friendly, but she would not be fooled into thinking that man was anything but her enemy.


    ¡°By that same power by which I have called thee forth, I bind thee, that thou remain affably and visibly here before this circle so constant and so long as I shall have occasion for thy presence; and not to depart without my license until thou hast duly and faithfully performed by will without any falsity.¡±


    She lowered her head, seeing that there were lines etched into the bricks that made up the ground, and they formed symbols and forms inside of a circle that she very well knew. It was hers, after all, the sigil that represented her.


    The triangle shrunk down, moving to the back of her right hand, where it burned itself into her skin. She grit her teeth, not allowing even a groan to escape her, but once the pain faded, she knew. She had been subdued.


    When her obedience had been ensured, the stranger approached her, grabbing her chin and forcing her to look up at his old, wrinkly face of no remarkable features other than how old it was.


    ¡°From today on, you shall be known as Thirteen, and I ask of you to heed my every command,¡± he said in a non-commanding tone. ¡°Open your status, your majesty, and read it out to me.¡± His voice was an eerie mix of respect and disdain, he was pretending for the rules.


    ¡°Status,¡± she said, her body forcing the resentment out of her voice, and replacing it with a friendly tone. She did not know why she said the word, but it appeared to have been the correct action, as words started to write themselves into her vision, floating not quite in front of her, but instead covering part of her vision as if they were etched into her eyeballs.


    Name: Thirteen


    Species: Spirit (Level 1)


    Mana: 1,000/1,000


    Strength: 2


    Agility: 4


    Vitality: N/A


    Intelligence: 10


    Perception: 10


    Willpower: 10


    Skills:


    [Summon Steed (F)], [???-Charm (S)]


    When she had finished reading out the words, the stranger dared to click his tongue. This maggot thinks¡­ shit, why was he clicking his tongue, did I do something wrong? Gritting her teeth, she tried to clear her mind, but subservient thoughts meddled with her true emotions, trying to suppress them.


    The stranger then stepped away from her. ¡°This is nowhere near One at all,¡± he said, sighing. Then he looked right into her eyes. ¡°I will call upon you at a later time, your majesty. For now, remain here and await further orders.¡± And with that, he turned around and walked away.


    Thirteen followed the path he was taking with her eyes, finding a door in the wall. Wooden, reinforced with metal. A number of sigils carved into it, but even without them, she could not even keep the thought of trying to escape from this room for more than a few seconds.


    She had no choice but to watch, kneeling, as the stranger left the room and slammed the door shut behind him. With the click of a lock, Thirteen was certain that she was now alone. And as her master¡­ , master? I suppose he is. How dare that mongrel force me into a contract with him! How does he even know these incantations!


    She grew furious again, only for the emotion to drain from her, like water through a leak in a barrel, until she was calm again. This annoyed her again, since she knew that her calm was forced upon her, and she got angry again. Repeating the cycle a few times, she eventually managed to calm herself down, judging that it was pointless to attempt anything right now.


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    The contract was now in place, and she would have to obey her master no matter what. If he broke the terms for a king like her, she could break free, but otherwise, she was bound to him until he let her go. She would just have to wait for him to reveal what she had been summoned for. And in the meantime, she decided to try and make sense of¡­ well, everything else.


    Looking around the room, this time without a burning fire of rage within her, she regarded the stone walls, solid and each brick several feet thick. There was not much else to it, no furniture, or windows¨Cshe could tell that she was underground.


    The only obvious way outside was the door through which her master had vanished, however, even the thought of approaching it was suppressed shortly after appearing.


    After a while of staring at the same walls without anything at all happening or changing, she scoffed.


    Since there was not much else for her to do at the moment, she decided to inspect herself for now. Her body was that of a female human, lithe, slightly muscled, yet also possessing a considerable bust and attractive curves. It was a reasonable manifestation, if she had to judge.


    By her own estimation, she was somewhere around six feet tall, her skin was brown, like larch. Falling down her shoulders were strands of blond hair with a strong yellow touch, and as she passed a hand through the top, she came upon two rectangular, soft forms that she quickly identified as her ears.


    She wasn¡¯t hurt, except for the marking on the back of her right hand. Its power was slumbering right now, waiting for her to try to rebel or receive an order. She gave it a series of brief scratches, knowing that it would not come off that easily. Sighing, she whispered, ¡°Just why have I been summoned?¡±


    Her memories were still messed up, a consequence of her never having been summoned before. The most important things she could recall, like the rules and laws by which she was forced to obey her summoner, the hazel stick that draws the triangle to subdue her and the silver ring put to his face to show the necessary respect. Her summoner was highly capable in the ancient arts.


    She had never been to the human world before, and it was the first time she had seen her own status, for its rules did not apply in her homeworld. She still disliked everything about her current situation, but she supposed that sulking would not help her, so she might as well start to familiarize herself with this world.


    Despite her unfamiliarity, her kind was born with a basic understanding of all concepts that made up the worlds, so she would grasp it sooner rather than later. Because of that, she also understood that, unlike what her summoner had said, she did not actually have to say the word to summon her status. The words came into existence with a mere thought.


    Her name had been changed and her old one seemed lost to her. Not a consequence of summoning. ??? has been to the human world and always remembered¡­ wait, ???...? She could not remember his name. The only other of her kin she had befriended back home, she knew his name, it was right there, yet when she tried to think of it, it slipped away. My true name is¡­ Thirteen is wrong. I know that. But¡­


    Thirteen understood then. Her name was taken. Removed from her being. No wonder she was merely level one and still called a spirit. While she could feel it erupt like a volcano, she forced her wrath away. It was of no use right now and she simply had to accept that her entire existence was being violated by a mere mortal.


    She clicked her tongue, her hands curling into fists, but she took deep breaths to keep it at that. After a moment of calming her emotions, she returned to her status. There were a few more things to go through.


    Mana, was something she was familiar with at least. She had to be, after all, she was made up of it. Those like her did not have physical bodies, nor did they need them. At least not in her homeworld. Even the body she had right now was merely an imitation of matter. One she was, thanks to that annoying mark on her hand, bound into.


    Moving on, she shifted her attention to her so-called Stats.


    From the terms such as Strength, Agility and Willpower. Each one was assigned a numerical value that was likely tied to herself and, in some way, tried to present her current capabilities. Although she had a hard time understanding how these values translated.


    What does ten in strength mean? How strong is that supposed to be? And how would you even measure something like willpower and perception?


    The only stat that had no numerical value was her Vitality. And while it looked out of place, this, at least, made sense. A spirit¡¯s life was tied to the amount of mana it had. She didn''t even remember the last day of being a spirit, the memory long extinguished, and she certainly never thought she would be back to it one day.


    Interested in these stats, she started running¨Caway from the door so that she would not be stopped. Her speed was nothing extraordinary, but she had an alright control over her body. After the run, she dropped to the ground and did a few pushups, getting ten in with ease before noting a slight ache and quiver in her arms. Not the fastest, not the strongest, but not too terrible. I can work with that, she thought.


    She had no idea how to test the non-physical stats, and instead of figuring that out, she decided to look at the next category of her status, one she was most admittedly most curious about.


    Skills were pretty self-explanatory. They were, put simply, her abilities. And while she had never seen it written out, she was certainly familiar with the first one. Coincidentally, as she thought of the probable effect of this skill, another window appeared in her vision.


    Summon Steed (F)


    ¡°He rideth a pale horse[...]¡±


    Summon the designated creature for a mana cost of one per minute. The summon will be canceled once your mana reaches ten percent of its maximum capacity.


    Designated Summon: Pale Shire


    Thirteen raised an eyebrow. It had not cost her to summon a steed before, and her beloved warhorse, Nihil, was no mere Shire either. Though, she remembered, that Nihil did start out as a normal horse-equivalent of her homeworld. Had he been taken from her, too?


    Smiling, she lifted her right hand and snapped her fingers. Anticipation making her heart flutter.


    The room was silent, the crackling torches the only source of noise, and yet a wind seemed to blow through the chamber, making the flames whip. A circle of red letters appeared on the ground, pulsing with a light.


    He announced himself with a neigh, loud and terrible, yet very familiar. Particles of light rose from the middle of the circle, forming the hooves, then the legs and body, all the way to the head. The Shire summoned was large and muscled, white coat shimmering under the torchlight.


    He snorted softly, his breath misting in the cold air. He took a few steps forward, his hooves echoing on the stone floor. The circle of symbols began to fade, as he stepped out of it. The horse looked around, eventually finding Thirteen.


    They locked eyes with each other, and Thirteen was certain then. Recognition in his eyes, and that sense of familiarity she felt. For the first time since her summoning, she felt positive emotions surface, happiness and relief.


    ¡°Nihil?¡± she called out, voice croaking.


    The horse neighed in confirmation, and approached Thirteen. Because he stood a head taller at the shoulders than Thirteen, he lowered his head to allow her to run a soft hand across his muzzle. It¡¯s him, I can tell, she thought.


    He looked nothing like she remembered him, but even if his mighty form was taken from him, as long as Nihil was not taken from her, she could accept it. Putting her forehead against his, she simply enjoyed his warmth for a while.


    ¡°I¡¯m sorry for dragging you into this,¡± she whispered to him. He nudged her against the cheek as if to tell her not to worry about it.


    ¡°You are draining my mana, so I will have to send you back for now,¡± she said to him. Despite her rather recent coming into existence, she could feel something squeeze the imitation of a heart in her chest. Nihil snorted, but agreed. While caressing his muzzle, Thirteen canceled the spell and Nihil slowly dissolved back into particles of light, fading back into non-existence.


    She looked at her mana pool, her count having decreased by only two, but if she kept him around, she would drain herself, and not knowing what was to come, she would have to hold on to as much mana as she could for now.


    Deciding there was no point in dwelling on her longing right now, she ignored her feelings and moved on to the other skill that she had been born with. And even though she loved Nihil as a part of herself, this ability which has now been mutilated into this form, was ultimately what had helped her to rise to the heights that she had been dragged down from.


    ???-Charm (S)


    ¡°The ????? ???? ?????? causeth all the love that may be, both of men, and of women.¡±


    Interfere with a target¡¯s mind to a degree determined by the user¡¯s and the target¡¯s level. Cost and effect are both calculated by the user¡¯s and target¡¯s Willpower and level. The skill focuses on the manipulation of lust and affection, as such, the opinion of the target greatly influences its effects.

 Chapter 2 - One

    One observed the twelve acolytes carving lines and symbols into the floor of Chamber Seventy-two. The sigil had been drawn onto the floor with chalk to create a clear blueprint to follow. One had carefully overseen its creation, so that no mistakes were made.


    The sigil itself was a symbol and representation of someone whose name was now lost to her, although she faintly remembered a few conversations she attributed to that lost figure. She could no longer read sigils, or draw them, but she could correct them if she saw a mistake, which was why her master had ordered her to act as an overseer.


    But since Two and Three also could have done it, One understood that her master simply tried to slow down her growth by handing these kinds of miscellaneous tasks exclusively to her. She had assisted her master in seventy summonings so far, and with this one, it would be seventy-one and mark the last summoning to be conducted.


    She pitied Seventytwo, for he would be the last of the summoned and have the least time to grow. And while she technically had the most time, she had recently spent more time babysitting these mortal fools that played on the ground with knives like children.


    She had an urge to rush forward and slaughter them all, but her body was frozen in place, and her bloodlust was soon enough suppressed. Breathing a long sigh, she approached the middle of the chamber and looked upon the sigil. To her, it now looked like a random arrangement of lines, curves and circles, but they held a hidden meaning, one no mortal soul could ever hope to understand. Fortunate, then, that she was no mortal.


    Acolytes working close to her avoided eye contact, acting as if they were fully absorbed in their task, but One knew these mortals better than they would like. They were afraid of her and those like her, so every Acolyte swore a vow of silence. Because the wrong words in the vicinity of a spirit could unleash a disaster. Or so they think, One thought as her eyes scanned the sigil. A¡­ n¡­ d¡­ she concentrated on the lines, her memory working harder than ever.


    The door to the chamber opened with an ear-grating creak as metal scraped on rock. One turned away from the sigil. Her master strolled into the chamber, dark robes hiding most of his body and only his head poking out through the collar. She had been summoned almost two years ago and in that time, the wrinkles in his face had doubled, his hair, those that remained, had changed from gray to white and his back was slouching. Despite the age deteriorating his body, his eyes held wisdom and strength that was unbecoming of the rest of his appearance. Even if he looked like a single flick might break him, he commanded seventy-one spirits and no mortal would stand a chance against him. Had he summoned us normally, that is, One thought before falling into a polite, yet not subservient bow. To think such potential will go to waste because of his mortality. Such a waste.


    Her master bowed to One, deeper and more respectful than she had. One cared little for these formalities, but like her obedience had been enforced with the contract, so did it enforce his respect toward her station. Even if she no longer occupied that station.


    ¡°Have you ensured that there are no mistakes, Your Majesty?¡± he asked, voice croaking out from dry lips. A nervous finger tapped against his walking stick. It was made from hazel, and to some of her kind, it was like sun for a vampire or fire to an undead. To her, it was no more than a stick.


    One gave a nod. ¡°The ritual will work if performed correctly,¡± she said. ¡°Master, are you alright?¡± she asked.


    Her master stopped his finger and grunted. ¡°I am, One. I am. We are running out of time, however. I will begin the ritual immediately once the sigil has been carved,¡± he said. ¡°Do you want to bear witness to the final summoning?¡±


    ¡°A generous offer, but I will have to decline,¡± she said, putting her right hand onto her chest and bowing politely.


    Her master regarded her for a moment, his yellow eyes attempting to stare beyond what she was showing on her face until he conceded with a sigh.


    ¡°Very well. As always, your services have been greatly appreciated, Your Majesty. Then, until further notice, relocate to your chamber,¡± he instructed.


    One responded with a nod to confirm and a bow before she made her way out of the chamber. She could hear her master barking orders at acolytes and tapping the ground in a nervous beat. While One could not remember Seventytwo¡¯s face or name or sigil, she did remember his personality to some degree. Many of the seventy-two were wicked and cruel, but Seventytwo hated evil above all. Someone as wicked and terrible of a man as her master was bound to have a difficult time subduing him. Thieves he liked the least of all, and yet the man that was about to summon him would rob him the very moment he came into this world.


    One slipped out of Chamber Seventy-two and emerged in the hallway that connected all chambers. Opposite of her was Chamber Seventy-one, home to Seventyone, currently youngest of the spirits. He was a useful fellow to her master, but due to his recent summoning, was not yet lacking in capability.


    Turning left, One started down the hallway. The walls, like the chambers, were constructed of simple bricks with a pillar integrated into the wall between every door, left and right respectively. On each pillar, a torch had been placed to light the space, although the light barely reached the ceiling. There was a red carpet rolled out in the middle of the hallway, although it left enough space on the left and right for two people to walk side by side still.


    Normally, she disliked the hallway a lot, because it had hidden sigils and magic circles that bore down and monitored her, but during the preparation and summoning phase of rituals, they were empty and allowed for some quiet and peace. Running, she could reach her own chamber in no time, but she was never one to rush things if unnecessary.


    In her passing of the chambers, she could hear the roaring and shouting of fellow spirits and their opponents. Rock shattering, bodies and attacks thudding, debris crumbling. Many were fighting, growing stronger by the second, but none would reach her level yet. That was not what worried her however.


    ¡°What¡¯chu thinking about?¡±


    One halted and looked to her left, staring into a pair of sand-colored eyes.


    ¡°Why are you outside Fortyseven?¡± she asked. The spirit named Fortyseven had the appearance of a human man of maybe thirty years of age, with a lean, yet muscled body. He had short, dirty-blonde hair and wore nothing but a loose-fitting pair of white pants that gathered at his ankles, a red sash that was wrapped around his waist, and three pairs of golden arm rings around his forearms on each side.


    ¡°As cold as always, eh? I was just taking a walk, and talked to Two for a moment. But man, what a surprise to see you here! We haven¡¯t seen each other since¨Cwhose summoning was it? Fifty? Fiftytwo?¡±


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    ¡°Fiftysix,¡± One corrected him.


    He nodded vigorously. ¡°Right, right. Been some time, eh?¡± He said with a grin, then looked right. ¡°If you came from there you helped with another summon?¡±


    One did not reply.


    ¡°You know basically everyone else hates you because of this, yes?¡± he said, his voice taunting. Then he shrugged, ¡°Except for me, of course, I like you.¡±


    Again, she said nothing. Fortyseven leaned against the wall with his right shoulder, crossing his arms. ¡°Two likes you, too, I think. Though I can¡¯t read the old man. And hey, Twelve and Thirtyfour never go outside, so they probably don¡¯t even know how you have been whoring yourself out to that mortal,¡± as he kept going, his grin widened, ¡°Oh, and Thir-¡±


    One interrupted him there. ¡°Be quiet, Fortyseven,¡± she said. ¡°I will not hear another word from that pathetic mouth of yours.¡± She did not shift the weight of her body or pretend to start an attack. They both knew that it was impossible to kill each other anyway. That did not mean Fortyseven could throw provocations at her without consequences, and he knew that, too.


    Fortyseven stopped grinning. The two of them stared at each other for a long moment, before eventually, Fortyseven gave up with a groan, throwing his arms into the air. ¡°Alright, alright. I¡¯m gonna drop it.¡±


    One did not react, not even with a twitch or frown. She simply continued to stare at Fortyseven. When he said nothing else, she took it as her sign to leave, but just after the third step, Fortyseven spoke up.


    ¡°Say,¡± he began, making her look over her shoulder. ¡°Which one is he going to summon?¡±


    One considered for a moment, but concluded that deception was about as pointless as it was futile. ¡°Seventytwo.¡±


    A mocking smile rose onto his lips again, this time not directed at One directly. ¡°So he¡¯s almost done, eh? Seventy-two of us in one place,¡± he said, looking into the distance where Chamber Seventytwo lay, ¡°You are his favorite pet, no? Did he ever tell you what he was planning?¡±


    ¡°He did not,¡± she replied and then started walking away.


    ¡°You are just gonna leave?¡± she heard Fortyseven yell from behind, but ignored it and kept going. She had known the spirit for a long time and never liked him, even before she had been summoned and robbed. And she could swear that she remembered herself speaking his name with annoyance more than once. Though it was not one she regretted having lost.


    By the time she had Fortyseven out of her mind, she had reached Chamber Twenty-five and Twenty-four. The doors of both chambers were twice as large as the others, and not only reinforced, but made entirely out of steel. One could also feel a layer of mana, a barrier, covering it. She had told her master beforehand about Twentyfour¡¯s and Twentyfive¡¯s huge forms, and so he had prepared accordingly. This made it clear that, at some point, he intended to let every spirit out of their cell. When and why, One couldn¡¯t tell.


    Behind every door she passed lurked a spirit deprived of a part of their being. What Fortyseven had said was not wrong. She was responsible for allowing her master to summon all these spirits so quickly. And in a way, she had betrayed her own kind. It did not matter that half of them wanted to kill her even before entering the mortal world, or that she had no allegiance to any of them, but it was undeniable that, with her actions, she had become a traitor to her species.


    The door of Chamber Thirteen came into view. One had never interacted with the spirit that was now called Thirteen, but she knew some things about her. The one now called Sixtyeight had spoken about her a few times. A pit of oil that only needs a single torch to burst into a blazing fire of anger, they had said. She had no doubt that Thirteen would come to kill her sooner or later.


    From the summoned spirits, she was the most quiet, despite her reputation, and her master also had deemed her useless as she did not have a particularly unique ability to bring with her. It was stupidity only a mortal was capable of, to deem a spirit weak, but One saw no reason to correct her master on that. Especially one who once was a king like One herself.


    As she was getting closer to her own chamber, she picked up her pace a little. Spirits from Two to Eleven she knew best, and all of them knew of her involvement in their presence upon the mortal world. She hoped that she would not run into one of them, but to her disappointment, when she arrived at the door to Chamber One, on the opposite side, where Chamber Two was, stood something in the shape of a human man of considerable age, carrying a goshawk on his arm.


    He had long wide hair and a beard that gave him an aura of wisdom. He wore a monk¡¯s robe, in orange and yellow, with a beaded necklace around his neck. When he turned to One, he revealed a set of blackened eyes that had no irises.


    ¡°You have been away,¡± Two began, index finger gently brushing against the bird¡¯s neck. ¡°That was Seventytwo, right?¡± he asked, goshawk chirping and nuzzling against his hand.


    One nodded. ¡°Yes,¡± she replied. ¡°Soon, all of us will be gathered here.¡±


    Two chuckled. ¡°You say that it is of no concern to you, One, but there can come no good from a mortal with the power of seventy-two spirits under his thumb,¡± he grumbled. ¡°What is he planning, One?¡±


    One walked over to the door of her chamber and grabbed the handle. ¡°We will find out soon, I suppose.¡±


    Two took a long, loud breath, before sighing. ¡°How close are you?¡± he asked.


    ¡°Three,¡± she answered, honestly.


    ¡°You have slowed down,¡± Two remarked, frowning. ¡°Three and Four are catching up to you, and Ten has surpassed Five, Six, Seven, Eight and Nine.¡±


    One gave a short, unbothered shrug. ¡°Why are you telling me that?¡±


    Two clicked his tongue. ¡°I don¡¯t resent you for what you did, One. But others that know do, and more will once they learn of it. They will try to find an opportunity for revenge.¡±


    Giving the door a push, she stepped into the chamber and looked over her shoulder. ¡°Let that be my concern, Two,¡± and with that, she closed the door behind her, leaving Two behind. He would only tell her what she already knew, and she had no interest in his worries.


    The problem was that he was not wrong, which was also why she had no time to listen or talk to him. She was close to a breakthrough, to the first of a spirit¡¯s ascension, and she had to reach it before her master proceeded with whatever plan he had in mind.


    Her chamber looked bleak and boring like ever. Her sigil was engraved on the ground. Once, she had known it like she knew herself, now, it was just scribbling on the ground. But it was there, and as long as she could look at it, she could learn it. Not today or tomorrow, but she was learning, and her true name would soon be hers again, but for now, she was stuck with bothersome mortal world mechanics.


    Name: One


    Species: Spirit (Level 22)


    Mana: 22,000/22,000


    Strength: 20


    Agility: 15


    Vitality: N/A


    Intelligence: 15


    Perception: 11


    Willpower: 11


    Skills:


    [Invisibility (S)], [?a?l-Wrath (S)], [Partial Bodymorph (D)], [Mana Manipulation (B)]


    She could not understand why she had such a thing like this status. It did not exist in her homeworld and it certainly did not the last time she visited this plane. Even now, it did not appear as if humans possessed a system, but only her and the other spirits had one.


    At least, based on that system, she could tell how close she was to the first spirit ascension. Before this always had been a feeling difficult to precisely estimate, and while it was not that much different now, One could at least assume that the ascension would happen at level twenty-five or somewhere around that.


    One lifted her head and stared at the ceiling, which was nothing but the rough rock one would find in any cavern. She did not look at the rock, however, but something unseen that lay in it. She said nothing, but the reply to her inquiry came in the form of a rumble as the ground where the backwall met the floor started to glow and a magic circle appeared. It glowed with a bright light, making it almost impossible to read and dissect it, impossible to learn. But that was unimportant for now.


    From below the elbows, her arms elongated and thinned into two blades, while lighting coiled around the blades. And she watched as the circle grew ever brighter.

 Chapter 3 - A Warm Up

    Thirteen observed three golems as they emerged from the ground inside the glowing magic circle. It was not the first time she had seen this kind of creature and immediately recognized the rune carved into its face. A poor job, she noted, thinking that only a fool would place the heart of a golem in such a vulnerable area. The bodies of the golems seemed to be made from clay and came in human shape, a weak shape for combat and thus mostly used for utility golems. However, Thirteen could not shake the feeling that she was wrong about this.


    She was proven correct as once the golems had fully emerged, they started a slow, yet threatening approach and she was almost certain that they would lash out at her once they got in close.


    To dispel any kind of doubt behind her conclusion, she felt six sources of mana ahead of her, and while she could not read the spell, it materialized in six thin pillars of rock rising from the ground in a half-circle around her. Once each was about eight feet out of the ground, the rock pillars started to crack and brittle until, on each, a single weapon remained, lodged into a small base to hold them.


    They were simple weapons. A sword and a spear to her left. A dagger and a warhammer to her right. A battle axe and a quarterstaff before her.


    She did not need to think long to understand that she was being given a choice to choose a weapon and that a fight was about to break out soon enough. The golems were about a hundred steps away from her, but they showed no signs of stopping.


    She was not really a spirit for weapons like the ones offered, but I guess I have to make do with these. Since warhammer and battle axe were heavy, they would only make her slow, which was dangerous when fighting multiple enemies. Quarterstaff and spear were both weapons she judged too long. The dagger had too little reach.


    ¡°Sword it is,¡± she said, walking over to and grabbing the sword¡¯s handle, breaking the blade out of the rock that was holding it. It was about as deadly looking as a weapon as one could create from raw rock, but she could feel magic contained within it and despite what it was made from, when she ran her index finger across the edge, it cut her skin with ease. Though she supposed her spirit body was not really a good base to judge this on, it was good enough.


    The sword¡¯s blade was broad and straight, double-edged and thinning toward the tip. It had a simple, straight handle with a broadened pommel and no guard. She gave it a couple of test swings, its weight not interfering with her movements too much. It will have to do.


    Her attention was drawn to the other weapons as they crumbled and shattered. Apparently, her choice had been final. Quickly accepting of the fact, she redirected her attention to the golems. About fifty steps. Time to warm up a little.


    Making a few more practice swings, she waited until the golems reached her. It had been a very long time since she had last fought with a sword, but she was still a spirit, still herself, still a former king.


    To her golems of this shape and level were nothing special. Judging by the rune on its face, a minor spirit had been used to implant life into it, and minor spirits were mindless for the most part and simply existed as a manifestation from nature rather than an individual. Unfortunately, that made her charm pretty much useless against them. But once she was thinking about her skills, an idea flashed across her mind and she grinned.


    Fighting had never been something she enjoyed, however, she knew someone whose sole purpose in life seemed to be to bring destruction. It was why he had chosen the name to begin with. Snapping her fingers, Nihil¡¯s circle appeared and the shire rose from the ground not much unlike the golems had only moments before. Nihil roared, announcing his arrival, and as much as Thirteen wanted to pet him then, she yelled, ¡°Nihil!¡± and pointed her sword toward the three golems. Nihil turned to face them, snorting once. ¡°Annihilate!¡± Thirteen ordered.


    At the moment, Nihil had been reduced to a normal horse, but even then, he was massive and possessed the spirit of ten warhorses. And just like he had been ordered to do, he charged forward without hesitation, his hooves clacking across the chamber floor.


    The golems had likely been tasked with attacking Thirteen, so they paid no mind to Nihil even as he tackled right into the first golem, crushing it under his hooves as he galloped over it.The other two continued, entirely ignoring their dead comrade, but Nihil kicked with his hind legs, shattering the head of the second one, then followed up by biting into the third¡¯s shoulder and jerking his head toward Thirteen, throwing the damaged golem to land right at her feet.


    Thirteen whistled at the violent display, amazed that Nihil was still terrifying in this form. Although she found it quite cute to see him trample the golems to pieces, even after they died.


    The third golem, despite the throw and rough landing, was still alive, so Thirteen stabbed it through the head before it could stand up and make a fuss. To her surprise, that action triggered a reaction she had not expected. A box of text appeared in her vision.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    Congratulations! Your existence has reached a new level. You are now Level 2.


    You have received one Stat Point to assign to your stats.


    ¡°Huh,¡± she muttered. It had been so long since she last killed a spirit that she almost forgot. The feeling of absorbing the mana of a spirit and making it her own. After having reached the pinnacle in her homeworld, she had stopped killing her own and if conflict arose, she had had enough legions to carry out her will.


    A rush of heat filled her, a tingling under her skin as she could feel herself expand. Not physically, but on a spiritual level. I forgot how good growing feels, she thought, taking a deep, elated breath. Support the creativity of authors by visiting Royal Road for this novel and more.


    Your Mana increased from 1,000 to 2,000.


    Mana: 1,996/2,000


    To think that a mortal managed to create a system that can monitor this process. No, this is not something a mere mortal could accomplish. But who could? And why would they?


    It was a mystery Thirteen started to take some interest in, but she also realized that she would not be getting any answers right now and decided to focus on what¡¯s in front of her. And that was the level up. That, too, was something she was not familiar with. It was a label for growing stronger, but Stat points were new to her and the system appeared to give her a choice in which direction she would like her growth to go.


    A Stat point, huh, she thought. Despite her unfamiliarity with the concept, she had a vague understanding of how this was supposed to work. And it made her somewhat excited, almost more so than the initial level up.


    Strength: 2


    Agility: 4


    Vitality: N/A


    Intelligence: 10


    Perception: 10


    Willpower: 10


    Strength, she chose, and the system responded.


    Strength: 2 ¡ú 3


    Huh, it worked. I¡¯m getting quite good at this.


    Because she had already been powerful once and was well aware of her own weaknesses back then, she decided to improve on what she had lacked back then. Her lack of individual strength was what had caused her to dislike fighting somewhat, and it had made her rise to power unnecessarily difficult. If she could, she would not let herself repeat the past once again.


    When she was finished with her status and made it go away, Nihil was standing before her, and approached to nuzzle against her cheek. Chuckling, Thirteen caressed his muzzle.


    ¡°You are incredible, Nihil.¡±


    Nihil snorted with satisfaction and pride, whipping his tail a few times. It then came to Thirteen that she had only gotten a notification for one of the golems. Right, Nihil¡¯s kills go to him, not me. While Nihil appeared like a normal shire horse, he was also a spirit. Different from her and the other seventy-one, but a spirit nonetheless.


    Thirteen would like him to become strong once again, but she also recognized that her own growth had to take priority right now as Nihil was only a temporary asset. ¡°Thank you for helping me out, Nihil,¡± she said, taking a few moments to simply pet him when she saw the very same spot as before illuminate with a magic circle.


    ¡°I am going to try to do this on my own for a while, but I will call you when I need you,¡± she told Nihil and after he neighed her goodbye, she canceled his summon and watched him disappear.


    His absence immediately soured her mood and it did not get any better when she saw that this time four golems had been summoned. They were the same kind as the first three and moved in the same slow and stunted manner.


    Raising her sword again, she got into something akin to a stance and waited. There was no sense in rushing this, especially if there was to come another wave of golems after this one¨Csomething that she had to anticipate as of now.


    Once the first golem reached her, it lashed out with a clumsy swing of its arm. It made no fist nor did it have claws and it was not very fast either. With little effort, Thirteen made a step to the right and avoided it, then slashed from above with her sword, separating arm from shoulder.


    As expected, the golem showed no signs of pain or recognition of the wound and simply turned to hit with the other arm, but before it could do so, Thirteen thrust the blade at the golem¡¯s head. The rounded tip poked into the side of its head but failed to penetrate in a meaningful way. Clicking her tongue at her own lack of strength as well as her weapon, she readjusted the blade and slid it across the golem¡¯s face, slashing through the life-giving rune in its face and killing it.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    The golem dropped to the ground, like a puppet whose strings were cut, and shattered upon impact. Taking a few quick steps back, Thirteen took note of the other three golems, one approached her one each side, left and right, while the fourth was further back and would eventually attack her from the front.


    Thirteen let the second and third golem get in close, but moved a little closer to the right one. The golem responded and attacked in a similarly clumsy manner as the other one, and like before, Thirteen had no problems to dodge, but this time, she ducked beneath the attack as golem swung horizontally at her, and as she crouched, she cut through the golem¡¯s legs, making it fall.


    Feeling the approach from behind, she rolled out of the way, avoiding the strike of the third golem. Quickly getting back to her feet, she kicked away the hand of the legless golem, frowning as she looked at her own flesh reddening, the kick seemingly having damaged herself more than the golem.


    Dodging two swings from the third golem, Thirteen slashed at it cutting off its right hand. The legless golem started crawling toward her, forcing her to divide her attention. She would have to hurry or the fourth golem would also join in on this.


    Realizing that, Thirteen disregarded defense and switched to offense, dashing forward, twisting her body to avoid a punch from the third golem, then slashing through the rune, killing it.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    As the golem crumbled, Thirteen could feel something wrap around her ankle. The legless golem squeezed her pseudo-flesh hard, but ceased any movement when Thirteen ended its miserable existence with a quick cut.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    Congratulations! Your existence has reached a new level. You are now Level 2.


    You have received one Stat Point to assign to your stats.


    Your Mana increased from 2,000 to 3,000.


    Strength: 3 ¡ú 4


    She did not need to think about where to put the stat point and raised her strength immediately before closing her status. She could feel the sword in her hand grow lighter, even if only by a little.


    Let¡¯s put that to test, she thought and then broke out in a dash. She had been fighting defensively up until now, but the golems were clearly not a threat by themselves.


    She closed the distance to it, and even before it could try to attack her, slashed across its face, destroying the run and making the golem crumble onto the floor.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    As she observed the rigid corpse laying on the ground before her¨Cif it could even be called that¨CThirteen came upon a realization.


    After her summoner had starved her, robbed her, he was now feeding her to regain what he had taken. At first, she had thought her weakening was to control her, maybe it was, but her summoner clearly did not want her to remain weak. Thirteen looked over to the spot where the magic circle once again started to glow.


    If her summoner wanted her strong, then she would get strong. Stronger than he would ever have wished for.


    Just you wait, mortal. I¡¯m going to make you regret summoning me!


    She grinned and, with sword in hand, rushed at the five golems that had appeared in the chamber.

 Chapter 4 - Ascension

    You have defeated [Intermediate-Grade Clay Golem]. Intermediate-grade Spirit will be integrated into the First Spirit [One].


    You have defeated [Intermediate-Grade Clay Golem]. Intermediate-grade Spirit will be integrated into the First Spirit [One].


    You have defeated [Intermediate-Grade Clay Golem]. Intermediate-grade Spirit will be integrated into the First Spirit [One].


    Congratulations! Your existence has reached a new level. You are now a Level 25 Spirit.


    You have received one Stat Point to assign to your stats.


    Willpower: 12 ¡ú13


    Mana: 24,000 ¡ú 25,000


    Partial Bodymorph (D) ¡ú Partial Bodymorph (C)


    You have acquired the Skill [Blink (E)]


    You have reached an existential threshold. Ascension will begin in 3¡­2¡­1¡­


    As One read through her notifications, her blades turned back into hands and the last strings of lighting sizzled out around her. Then, suddenly, her vision blurred.


    Heat rushed through her body, accumulating in her chest while her head was throbbing and pounding as if someone had put ten blacksmiths to work inside of it. Her balance wavered, but she caught herself with a step, grabbing her head as she groaned through gritted teeth.


    It was beneath her to sink to her knees and give in to the pain, and this much was not enough to break her. Mana crawled under her skin and flesh, outside of her own control, as it gathered in her left eye. It seeped inside, permeated and transformed it in an agonizing process as if a thousand needles were stabbed into it every passing second. In her chest, she felt her mana squeeze and condense, pulling at her as she took deep, strained breaths to keep the screams in her gut.


    After several moments of enduring this torture, this change, her mana ceased its autonomous movements and her eye and chest were left alone. The pain faded, a persistent ring remaining as One tried to get her bearings.


    She had known what had happened, she had experienced it before, but, of course, the system did its job as well.


    Congratulations! You have ascended. You are now an Elder Spirit.


    Surprised that she was actually feeling a little annoyed, she dismissed the notification immediately. As pain and ringing subsided, however, so did her anger. Throwing a fit was not going to benefit her, after all.


    She lifted a hand to her left eye, which she had subconsciously pressed shut during the ascension. Under the cold touch of her hand, the last remnants of pain disappeared. Struggling her eyelid open, the way she viewed the dimly lit chamber changed, the dark corners growing brighter, shadows no longer black, but gray. Her eyes now perceived the world differently from each other, but without a mortal¡¯s inefficient brain, she had no complications in processing both images.


    So the changes remain the same, One thought. Even without a mirror to confirm it, she knew that her left eye had changed not only in its perception, but appearance, too. It would no longer have the circular iris of a human, but the vertical slit of a cat, her brown pupil changed to a striking yellow that resembled the heart of a fire.


    She was an Elder Spirit now, which was, to her standards, not a good thing, but at the very least it was better than being a regular spirit. One raised a hand to her chest, her fingers searching inside until she found what she was looking for. Pulling back out, she retrieved a small, white crystal that was about as long as her thumb and no wider than two inches.


    Inside of this crystal pulsated some of her mana and even as it was outside her body, a string of mana connected it through her fingers to her body. It looked like an insignificant thing, but it was, in a way, her heart and the only physical part of her body. Although calling it a heart might not be entirely correct. After all, she would not die if this crystal was crushed, but thanks to it, neither would she if she were to run out of mana. It was another layer of protection from death.


    With this, no other spirit will be able to beat me for a while, One thought, then considered the crystal for a moment before placing it back inside of her chest, right behind her right breast. Humans tend to aim for the left side, so this should be enough for now.


    One had completed her ascension and there was nothing stopping her from continuing to grow, but she did not feel like it right now. There was something that just¡­ made her feel like she wanted to rest. Maybe I am just getting sentimental? It was the first step to reclaim my name, after all. One turned around and started to walk back into the center of the room. Speaking of, I should continue to decrypt the sigil¡­ the sigil, she repeated in her mind, looking at the very thing on the ground before her. It¡¯s my sigil, but why does it feel¡­ like it''s not? One¡¯s lips twisted and her brows creased. She tried to trace back what precisely she was feeling, and when she realized what had happened, she was shocked, bewildered and angered, but none of those emotions mattered then.


    Her connection to her true name had been weakened. That sense of missing she felt whenever she thought of it, that desire to reclaim it, it all was¡­ different.


    One was not someone who rushed things if they could be done slowly. She had every intention to play along with her master and see his plans unfurl. Despite the bizarre circumstances she found herself in, she had been convinced that there was no threat to her. I am a fool. Two was right, our master, that wretched mortal, is a madman. For the first time since her summoning, One¡¯s well crafted facade of composure and obedience was on the verge of being shattered by emotions she never lost control over. With every last bit of her will, she attempted to break through the mental wall that kept her knowledge and memories away from her, but it had never felt thicker, taller or more resilient than it was now. She was certain of it.


    Panic seeped through the cracks this revelation created and One¡¯s eyes started to scan the floor, taking in every line, every cross and curve that made up her sigil in a desperate attempt to decrypt it. She no longer had time, she no longer could sit by idly and watch how things played out. She had to reclaim her name before it was overwritten. The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.


    Her focus was broken by the loud creak of her chamber¡¯s door. She startled, head snapping up and seeing that it was opening, she quickly readjusted herself, straightened her back and wiped off any hint of emotion from her face.


    Her master strolled inside, a small smile on his wrinkly lips. He did not wear his usual attire, his dark robes replaced by a white cassock with golden buttons and edges. From his neck hung a golden, winged sun, but despite its coating, One could immediately sense copper, silver, tin and mercury from inside.


    Behind her master followed two acolytes, also wearing similar cassocks, but less decorated and more loose fitting, clearly implying a less important station in Shamut¡¯s little religion.


    One knew very little about her master, but she did not expect him to be a divinity-worshipping man. If that man angered his god, it would certainly make sense for him to seek the aid of One and the others.


    While One normally ignored the acolytes outside of overseeing the ritual preparations, today she took note of a pile of clothes one of the two was carrying in his arms. Judging by the pleased smile on her master¡¯s lips, One suspected the summoning of Seventytwo to have succeeded. He could not have chosen a worse time for his visit, however. She could not allow him to see her distressed.


    ¡°Your Majesty,¡± he greeted, pointing his hazel walking staff at the pile of golem scraps, ¡°it seems you have been quite active. Please update me on your status,¡± he requested, although to one, it was an order she could not refuse. She was glad for the way he formulated it, however.


    With her mouth loosened by the ancient contract, she recited the most recent changes of her status, leaving out the partially revealed name of her signature skill. It had been quite a while since it had become like that, and she did not want him to know that she was uncovering her true name.


    After she had finished with the summary of her ascension, her master was caressing his chin, and said, ¡°You have ascended, then, good. Just in time. What happened to your eye?¡± he asked, an eyebrow raised and the staff rudely pointed at her face. His smile widened into a smirk that made One¡¯s blood boil with the rage of a hundred demons. It gave her the confirmation she needed. That man was fully aware of what the ascension had done to her.


    ¡°A change that came with my ascension, master,¡± One replied with a calm voice.


    ¡°You will have to cover it up,¡± he said, appearing annoyed. He turned his head and signaled the clothes-carrying acolyte closer, then looked at the other one and gave him an order to, ¡°go and fetch an eyepatch.¡±


    As the acolyte took off, the other approached One and bowed, offering her the set of clothes. From a simple glance, she could tell that it was a nun¡¯s outfit. She did not take the outfit on her own accord, watching the acolyte squirm under her gaze.


    ¡°Put these on as soon as possible. Once you are done, come outside, I will be waiting,¡± her master said, turning around. One followed the order and took the clothes from the acolyte, who quickly retreated once he had done his job.


    The two of them then walked out of the chamber again, leaving One to herself. She separated the pile of clothes and set each piece down on the floor.


    There were not many logical reasons for her to dress like a nun, and judging by the wimple and veil, and her master¡¯s request for an eyepatch, it was to hide her true appearance. And that would be unnecessary unless she was going to encounter people who must not see what she really looks like.


    Tugging at the collar of the one-piece dress she had been wearing since her summoning, she ripped it off herself without caring for its preservation. Now that she finally had received a decent outfit, she would not go back to that filthy rag. It might as well have been a simple blanket with holes cut into it for her arms and neck.


    Once her old dress had been discarded, she turned to her new one. It was much longer and had a high neckline and long sleeves. Without further ado, she put on the pair of white tights that she had been given. Then slipped into the dress, dragging the sleeves down her arms, the wool caressing her skin. The dress clung to her skin, hugging her form tightly. She had expected the dress to be long, but its hem actually touched the floor as she stood. It also had slits from the hip downward at the front on each side.


    Next, she draped a golden wimple over her head, her hair only being a small bother as it still only reached her chin. The fabric squeezed her pointed ears close, obscuring them. She tucked the ends into the high collar of her dress and adjusted the white veil so that it fell neatly down her back and over her shoulders.


    She then pulled on a pair of white, fingerless gloves, which had a winged sun on the back. The shoes were simple in design, but high-heeled. Standing and walking was a little difficult at first, but One quickly adjusted her bone structure to accommodate them. It was a little like having digitigrade legs, which she was not all too unfamiliar with, so she got used to it quite quickly. I pity any human woman who has to wear these things for more than a few minutes. They do have a pleasant aesthetic though.


    Overall, most of her body was covered. The only spots where her skin was exposed were her fingers and face. Otherwise, she suspected, she looked like the average nun, if a little pale. As she had been ordered, and having finished dressing, she left the chamber.


    Outside, her master was waiting silently, the two acolytes at his sides, not speaking a word as their vows demanded. When she stepped outside, one of them walked up to her and handed her a white eyepatch with a sun where her eye would be.


    It made her want to sigh, but she quietly put it on, covering her cat eye. The moment it could no longer see, the dark corners of the hallway once again turned black.


    Her master gave an approving nod. ¡°Presentable,¡± he said as he turned and jerked his head toward to signal One to follow him. She did.


    To the left of her chamber, the hallway only continued for a few dozen steps before ending at a giant gate built into the wall. She had examined it from afar, but never actually approached it, nor had she ever seen what was on the other side. Now that she had seen the outfits she and her master were wearing though, she had suspicions.


    Her master ordered the two acolytes to open the gates. This could apparently be done through two handwheels built into the walls, one on the left and another on the right. The acolytes, with strained expressions, started to turn the wheels and slowly opened the gate.


    While One and her master waited, he turned to her.


    ¡°Outside of these gates, your name will be Ophelia. You are a nun from a village called Monterosa on the outskirts of Levantia. You are on a pilgrimage and will be staying in Vinia¡¯s temple for a few weeks. If anyone asks you, you are an orphan, who lost her family in an accident, the same accident that robbed you of your eye. Generally, do not speak unless spoken to, and never mention what happened in these halls. Understood?¡± he said with a grunt.


    One nodded.


    ¡°Good,¡± he grunted.


    Her master continued to brief her on her false identity, into which he seemed to have put quite a lot of effort. Considering, however, how much he seemed to fear being discovered, One could not understand why he was even willing to take such a risk by taking her outside.


    The last time she had heard of Shamut¡¯s followers, they hated her kind, and while she would love for her master to fail in his plans, she also did not want to be found out.


    She was not someone to ask questions, even if she had them, but she knew her master well, and was not surprised when he offered an explanation of his own accord.


    ¡°While we are on the outside, your primary task will be to protect me,¡± he said. It was not a lot, but enough to satisfy One for now.


    By the time her master had elaborated on her false identity and his plans for her, the gate was opened wide enough to allow them through.


    Her master led her out of the hallway and into a circular, tower-like room with a spiraling staircase leading more than five hundred feet up. It pretty much confirmed what One had already long since suspected. They were underground. The staircase was lit by torches and sun banners decorated the walls every fifty steps. From the outside, even the gate was decorated with suns made from iron that served as both fortification and decoration.


    As her master started to ascend the first few steps, One followed closely behind him, a stray thought appearing in her mind.


    Making anyone wear these shoes to climb these stairs is almost as cruel as overwriting their existence. And I have just the luck to be subjected to both.

 Chapter 5 - Rider and Horse

    Thirteen drew back her right harm, her hand clenching into a fist. Channeling mana through her arm, she infused her skin, flesh and bones, increasing their durability and resilience. Taking a deep breath, she drove her hardened knuckles through the closest clay head, shattering it and causing a short shower of fragmented skull pieces. Just like that, the golem crumbled.


    A whisper of movement behind her alerted her, cutting her moment of glory short as dropped into a low crouch, feeling the whoosh of the arm sweeping where her head had been moments before. Two more golems lunged at her simultaneously, their arms slashing downward, their speed increased by gravity. Thirteen made a desperate roll to the side through dust and shards, some of which managed to cut and pierce her skin, zapping away at her mana.


    Trying to get up, her foot slipped on a golem¡¯s remains and before she could fully regain her balance, a hardened fist crashed into her face. The impact sent her tumbling, falling on one knee. She spat out black blood, more mana lost in the process. Her injuries healed quickly and were inconsequential in the moment, however, the continuous need to repair her body was tiring her out.


    Getting back to her feet, she slashed upward and cut off the arm of an approaching golem, chips of clay spraying like blood. Another golem lunged, its arm extending. Thirteen seized it by the wrist in a lightning-fast counterattack, using the creature¡¯s own momentum to pull it close and impaling it face-first on her sword, destroying its rune.


    Finding two other golems behind the one she had just killed, Thirteen kicked it off her blade and right into the others, using the momentary disturbance as a chance to get in close. Her blade flashed twice in rapid succession, slashing across the golem¡¯s faces rather than cutting through and making them drop dead. Stone dust billowed around her like fog. Behind it, she could see only two silhouettes remaining.


    They had her in a pinch, lunging from her left and right at the same time, but Thirteen had enough time to simply take two quick steps backward. Unable to halt their movements, the two golems crashed into each other with a thunderous impact that left both of them cracked in multiple places, including their faces. As their faces brittled and movement furthered the cracks, their runes were destroyed before they even had the chance to perform another attack.


    Thirteen stood, breathing heavily as she watched the last of this wave fall. Her white shirt had ripped in multiple places, specks of dust looking like bruises on her pants. And then the notifications appeared.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    ¡­


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    Congratulations! Your existence has reached a new level. You are now a Level 5 Spirit.


    You have received one Stat Point to assign to your stats.


    Strength: 5 ¡ú 6


    Mana: 4,000 ¡ú 5,000


    Thirteen¡¯s body staggered, her balance slipping as she sank to her knees, twisting her sword in time to stab it into the ground and turn it into a crutch to lean onto. I¡­ haven¡¯t been this exhausted since¡­ I can¡¯t even remember. I don¡¯t think I have ever been this tired. To be reduced to this pathetic state by mere lower-grade spirits¡­


    Only the mana granted by the level up kept her sane right now, without it, she would have struggled to even stay conscious.


    Mana: 1,231/5,000


    This wave had been tougher than any of the others. But these waves had already left the realm of ease after the eighth. Battling more than ten opponents at the same time, even if they were slow and simple as the golems, was difficult without getting hit. And fancy swordplay was not enough to make up for a large difference in numbers.


    Though I no longer have to rely on this sword alone, Thirteen thought, an eye on the skill section of her status.


    [Mana Manipulation (F)]


    Allows the manipulation of mana within your body.


    The description given by the system was not inaccurate in and of itself, however, it did not account for what kind of creature Thirteen was. Her body was pseudo-physical, but was, in the end, just made up of mana. It simulated physics, but it was not made of real flesh and blood or bones. As such, the durability and resilience of it depended on the density of mana making up her body. Not only was she getting more durable the more her mana pool grew, but if needed, she could harden certain parts of her body. Like she had done smashing that golem¡¯s head in.


    But even with that ability, she was getting hit nonetheless and the accumulating damages were whittling her down. Having reduced her to this pitiable state. When she was level one, this much mana had more than her capacity at the time, but now it had to sustain a more demanding vessel, and it was lacking.


    The skill itself had just appeared in her status when she had manipulated mana for the first time since her summoning. It was an ability that basically every spirit had, so it was quite surprising that the system did not recognize that beforehand like it had with Nihil¡¯s summoning and her other skill.


    Not that I should worry about that. If this keeps going, I¡¯m gonna die, and soon. If the next wave followed the pattern¨Cwhich it had no reason not to¨Cthen she would be facing seventeen golems next and she could not say that she was looking forward to it. Nah, I might as well just admit that I was stupid. I was trying to bite more off than I can chew.


    As a spirit, her mana recovery rate was amongst the most extraordinary ones there was, and her mana was already approaching two-thousand again. However, almost as if to tell her that they were aware of that, too, she could feel magic come alive at the back of the chamber for the fifteenth time since her summoning. The magic circle grew slightly bigger yet again and Thirteen¡¯s expression turned grim. She had reached the breaking point of her pride and arrogance. What point was there in prioritizing her own level when she was going to die?Help support creative writers by finding and reading their stories on the original site.


    Her best option was to optimize massacring golems and simply outgrow the damage she would sustain in the process. Not only that, but Thirteen, for all the confidence she had in her own ability, recognized that fighting alone was going to become more and more difficult.


    A thin smile found its way to her lips and she lifted her left hand, pressed thumb and middle finger against each other, invoking the magic-turned-skill and released the skill with a snap.


    ¡°This situation is screwing my judgment,¡± Thirteen muttered. Screw my plan, screw strategies and reason. Those things are overrated anyways.


    Nihil emerged from the ground with a vigorous roar, his front hooves striking the air. Thirteen¡¯s smile widened, the concerns she had previously fading away. Her reasons for not using Nihil the whole time had been reasonable, she thought, but she had suffered an oversight. His mana consumption would only become a problem if she ran out of mana. So if she could grow faster than he drained her pool, the problem would be essentially non-existent.


    It was my mistake, a fool¡¯s mistake. It¡¯s like the first time we ascended to kingship. You and I against whatever the world throws at us.


    She reached out to Nihil, caressing his neck. ¡°If it is the two of us, no foe is our better,¡± she whispered into his ear. ¡°And we are going to be victorious today, too.¡± Nihil responded with a sharp puff, as if to tell her that it was an obvious thing. As if scolding her for her oversight.


    ¡°Don¡¯t,¡± Thirteen said sharply, ¡°this whole mortal world business is new to me, alright?¡±


    Nihil snorted again. The approaching tapping of slow footsteps broke their moment of reprieve.


    Thirteen sighed and leaped onto Nihil¡¯s back with fluid motion. Nihil¡¯s body shook and he huffed. Looking back at her, she saw her reflection in his black eyes, torn clothes and dirty hair. Not like someone from her station should look. Though I suppose it fits someone who lost everything¡­


    Another puff of Nihil ripped her out of her trailing thoughts. Underneath her, he pawed the ground, hoof clicking with anticipation.


    As predicted, Thirteen counted a total of seventeen golems. They still bore lower-grade spirits and no remarkable features beside their rune, but Thirteen felt something different. A tiny change that she could not quite put her finger on.


    Thirteen¡¯s fingers tightened around the crude handle of her rock sword, the rough surface cold and dry. Her mind flickered briefly to a different sensation, a better one. They should have given me a lance. Maybe they deliberately didn¡¯t? But how should they have known? Not that it matters, for now, I should focus on survival.


    She leaned forward over Nihil¡¯s muscular neck, running her bronze-colored fingers through his coarse white mane. ¡°Are you ready?¡± she asked in a soft whisper. His response came as a deep, rumbling snort that she felt vibrate through his entire frame. ¡°Try not to kill them as you hit them,¡± she murmured, punctuating her words with firm, affectionate taps against his powerful neck, ¡°but don¡¯t spare them if they become a bother.¡±


    Straightening her back, Thirteen shifted her weight and clenched her thighs against Nihil¡¯s sides. Her left hand wove firmly into his mane¨Ca grip she¡¯d once considered painful to her precious steed, until Nihil himself had insisted upon it. Her charger knew his own capabilities best. And she tended to underestimate him. ¡°Let¡¯s shatter some clay puppets,¡± she breathed, and Nihil exploded into motion.


    The sudden acceleration slammed her backward, but centuries of experience had taught her how to react. She rolled with the movement, finding her balance in the sweet spot between rigid control and fluid adaption. Nihil¡¯s hooves struck the chamber floor like war drums, each impact echoing off the walls as they thundered toward their enemies.


    The golems clustered together, their movements uncoordinated yet somehow threatening in their sheer number. For most horses, it would be dangerous to simply crash into their foe. Injury was almost inevitable and death not unlikely, but Nihil was no ordinary mount or animal. His entire being radiated bloodlust and fearless determination as he paced forward, straight into the enemy¡¯s midst.


    Three golems formed the vanguard, although they just happened to be in front of the others without any strategic intent behind it. They raised their arms, no doubt sensing their target approach. Thirteen pressed herself low against Nihil¡¯s neck, extending her sword out to the right like a steel wing. Nihil moved beneath her with grace that seemed impossible for a shire his size, swerving in a perfectly timed pivot to the left. The motion guided Thirteen¡¯s blade through one golem¡¯s neck, the force assisted by the charge ripping its head away. In his move, Nihil¡¯s bulk shattered another clay doll, resulting in a small shower of shards.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    Nihil danced backward, easily evading the clumsy strikes of nearby golems. Though their blows would barely scratch him, Nihil knew not to sustain unnecessary injuries. Despite his size and the large target he provided, Nihil was quick on his hooves, proving just why he was such a phenomenal beast of a horse. He had power, yes, but finesse, too.


    Thirteen felt the battlefield shift through her mount¡¯s movements. Her eyes darted to movement on both sides¨Cfive golems attempting to flank right, three more left. Frowning, she tugged Nihil¡¯s mane with practiced pressure. ¡°Circle back,¡± she commanded. Nihil¡¯s response was instantaneous. Nihil pivoted on his rear hooves like a dancer, bringing them face-to-face with the group on the left.


    Two clean sweeps of Thirteen¡¯s blade decapitated the first two golems as they approached one after the other, almost as if delivering themselves to her. The third was met with a more violent end as it ran right into Nihil and was crushed beneath his hooves as a result. Its body was then pulverized and broken down into thousands of small shards as her angry shire stomped on its remains with a grudge.


    When Thirteen surveyed her surroundings again, she noticed something peculiar. The remaining golems had spread into a ring formation, slowly contracting around them. Their movements, while individually awkward, undoubtedly showed hints of coordination now. Something¡¯s off. They never did that before. And they surrounded us while we were busy. Low-grade spirits cannot act like this on their own.


    She studied their swaying frames and stumbling steps, noting an underlying pattern. Not tactical thinking, she realized. Someone has given them commands or is commanding them. But who? And where?


    Nihil¡¯s warning snort snapped her attention back to the immediate threat. She watched as her mount lashed out with his hind legs, destroying another golem with devastating force, the movement forcing her to strengthen her grip on his mane.


    A flash of movement to her right¨Cshe responded instantly, her blade singing through the clay of a golem¡¯s face. When she turned, Nihil¡¯s teeth had separated the top half of another golem¡¯s head from the rest. He crunched through it, then deemed his foe not worthy and spit it out.


    The remaining nine golems kept their circle and closed in on them simultaneously. Their formation, while theoretically sound, couldn¡¯t compensate for their individual lack of strength. Nihil became a whirlwind of destruction as he spun and turned while kicking and tackling. His hooves tumbled golem after golem, throwing them back, crushing their limbs. At the same time, Thirteen¡¯s blade never stopped moving, each strike flowing into the next in a deadly succession of slashes and thrusts. Together, they dismantled the golem¡¯s formation piece by piece until the final golem crumbled.


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    She did not gain a level, and Nihil did not look like he leveled up either, if he even could in the same way as her, but that was not important. Thirteen checked her mana reserves.


    Mana: 1,732/2,000


    She had not lost anything to injuries this time and still plenty of mana to keep Nihil around. Whoever caused these waves would soon learn just how frightening she and her mount were.

 Chapter 6 - Foul Paladins and Sweet Sinners

    ¡°And this is where you will be staying,¡± Me said, her finger dancing across a heavy iron keychain that jangled with an assortment of keys¨Cbrass and iron, very old and not the slightest bit dangerous. She found the right one with practiced efficiency, sliding it into the lock and twisting it with a click.


    The door creaked open, revealing a small room whose air seemed to contain more dust than oxygen. From its interior, it fit in with the rest of the monastery, simple and crude. There was a single thatch bed which already occupied almost half the space, its straw mattress looking flat and weary, draped with a few threadbare blankets and a single pillow. A wooden chest sat in one corner, its surface scarred with old scratches and stains. A single nightstand stood beside the bed, placed on which stood a single oil lamp, its brass base tarnished and dull.


    A single ray of light filtered through a window no wider than a palm positioned so high near the ceiling that it seemed more like an opening for ventilation rather than light. The walls were bare stone and plaster.


    Mea stepped back, waving away dust from her nose and coughing a couple of times. ¡°I-It hasn¡¯t been used in a long time. I will help you clean up if you want,¡± she said.


    One shook her head gently, a thin smile on her lips. ¡°There is no need for that. Thank you for guiding me here, but I will be fine on my own.¡±


    ¡°A-Are you sure?¡± she asked, her cheeks faintly flushed and eyes squinted in discomfort.


    ¡°I am. Thank you for your help, Mea.¡±


    Mea nodded, rubbing her left eye. ¡°Alright then. J-just ask if you need something, I live down the hall, the second door on the left right when you enter the hallway,¡± she said, pointing down the old hallway.


    ¡°I will keep that in mind,¡± One replied.


    Mea turned to leave, but stopped, gasping as if to remember something. ¡°Right, dinner is at six and the nun¡¯s meet for a prayer at eight. A-And curfew is at ten. Also, Bishop Roberto told me that he would like to speak to you. He said he would be in the garden in half an hour,¡± Mea said.


    ¡°Thank you for telling me.¡±


    ¡°I-I¡¯m happy to help,¡± Mea smiled, ¡°I hope we can talk again in the future, Ophelia.¡±


    ¡°I hope so, too, Mea.¡±


    Mea broke out into a juvenile grin and walked away, disappearing from sight when she turned the corner at the end of the hallway. The smell of a thousand rotten eggs finally fading.


    One entered her room, gave it another brief, inspecting look, before seating herself on the bed, letting herself fall back into the soft mattress. She liked beds. This one was of terrible quality and the ends of straws were poking and itching her, but it was better than the cold stone floor back in that¨Cwhich she now had found out to be a¨Cbasement. She might not need to sleep, but judging a bed merely as an object to sleep in was, in her opinion, naive.


    She took a few moments to simply appreciate the bed before her thoughts wandered. It was unexpected to find someone like Mea, a faithful nun who properly reeked of  the holy and faith. They had come across her hanging up sheets when they emerged in the temple grounds. At that moment, One had learned quite a bit of important information.


    One was that the summoning hall was an old abandoned basement beneath a proper temple of Shamut, and Mea¡¯s putrid smell was proof that not everyone in the temple was corrupted, which led her to the conclusion that her master, or Bishop Roberto as he was known on the outside, was operating in secret from the other members. Of course she had suspected that, given that he had prepared a background for her identity as Ophelia, but she hadn¡¯t known that she was underneath a holy place and thought her alibi would merely be for citizens and other such individuals. Knowing that there were faithful servants of a deity present, it made things a little more interesting. And dangerous, given One¡¯s current, weakened state.


    Her master was fortunate that it was Mea who spotted them and not someone with more wit and suspicion. The young girl didn¡¯t even raise any question and just accepted when her master ordered her to give Ophelia a room in the old monastery ring. The very room she was now lying in. She hadn¡¯t even questioned why she shouldn¡¯t be given a room in the more developed parts. Not that it mattered, because One suspected she would not spend much time in this room.


    Despite her weaknesses, Mea was a sweet girl. It is nice to be around someone not considered an enemy. But it might be better to keep my distance from her. She does not deserve to get entangled in this whole mess.


    Heaving a long sigh, One sat back up. She looked at the old wooden nightstand, tracing the small crevasses in its surface, dust collecting on her fingertip. There was still some time until her master wanted to meet her. But it''s not like I can do anything in here, she thought, getting to her feet while dusting off her finger.


    One strolled out of Ophelia¡¯s room and into the old corridor, her gaze sweeping along the stone-lined hallway. It was quite dark with only a handful of lamps which Mea had lid on their way here. The wooden floor creaked with every single one of her steps. She paused and committed the precise location of her room to memory¨Cthe third door on the right with a slight chip in the wooden frame and a few scratches around the metal lock, likely from failed attempts at inserting the key.


    Her fingers brushed the door, ready to close it, when she realized that Mea had never given her the key to lock it. Though it wasn¡¯t like there was anything inside that was worth taking. One pushed the door close and walked away.


    After leaving the old wing, she emerged in the regular nun¡¯s quarters.. Several of her sisters in faith occupied the corridor¨Csome sweeping the floor, while others engaged in quiet conversation. The new arrival was of certain interest to these women, and they regarded her with varied reactions. One elderly nun offered a curious but guarded glance, another younger woman flushed and avoided her gaze when One met hers while a group of others started whispering behind covering hands.


    She passed without wasting any time on them, but for the image of Ophelia, she wore a smile and offered short and polite greetings as she did. This continued until she reached the exit.


    The cloister opened onto a meticulously laid stone pathway that stretched through the middle of the temple¡¯s premises. It reached from the temple¡¯s dedicated holy place in the south, all the way to the garden and temple entrance in the north.


    Directly across the flagstone street were the priest quarters which stood as a row of connected stone buildings that looked rather unimpressive from the outside. Adjacent to them were the three bishop cabins with certain structural differences that mirrored their hierarchical distinction.


    It was around noon and the temple grounds were alive with mundane activity. Nuns and priests followed their daily rhythm. One spotted Mea in a group of five, carrying freshly laundered linens in woven baskets. The men, or priests, were mostly just chatting in a friendly, casual manner. Some of them reeked like sewage waters, others like a field of fresh flowers.


    One found it interesting how the faithful chatted with those that had broken their holy vows without suspecting a thing. She wondered how these interactions would transform into violent battles if their true disposition were to come to light. Or maybe these faithful priests simply waited for someone to corrupt them. Humans were strange like that.


    Regardless of the veracity of their faith, One played the polite pilgrim and kept up her facade of a young, friendly nun as she moved north on the flagstone path.


    The garden was, even to One¡¯s eyes, a masterwork of botany and decor. The garden¡¯s heart was a circular, wide pavestone path that was edged with shoulder high hedges. Through the gaps, she also spotted a small pond in the middle. Around it stood six marble statues, three of them men, and three of them women. They were positioned with careful symmetry. Larks rested on their shoulders and heads, singing cheerful songs.


    Because of their pristine condition, they looked rather new, however, the statue of the first saint Aurelio had such detail that it must have been created around the same time when that hopelessly kind human was still alive. It looks quite good for a half-a-millenia old piece of rock, One thought, a few memories of times long past resurfacing as she walked the tendril-like path that led to the garden¡¯s heart. These paths extended from all around the center, ultimately making the paths look like a sun. Left and right, lush, green grass covered the earth and in each corner of the garden, nuns were tending to fields of yellow, orange and red flowers that formed small suns. This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.


    One¡¯s habit swayed gently as she strolled past the hedges and into the center, getting even closer to Aurelio¡¯s statue. She briefly glanced over the others, but they were of little interest to her. The white hair looks good on him, although I liked his real hair color more. It was like a raging flame¡­


    It had been some time since One lost herself in fond memory of a mortal, and it was not long after she had come to a halt before Aurelio¡¯s statue that a voice resounded behind her.


    ¡°When I decided to take a stroll in this garden, I did not expect to find a flower this beautiful,¡± it said in an annoyingly satisfied tone. One glanced around her, finding no one but herself at which these words could have been directed at. When she turned around, she found a human male. Tall, tanned, clean skin, well-maintained hair and a decorated suit. Even though it had been a while, One could identify a noble if she saw one.


    Despite her immediate disdain for this creature, One made her face wear a surprised expression.


    A wolfish grin accompanied the youth¡¯s approach. One took a closer look at him and found a crest embroidered on his chest: a wolf¡¯s head encircled by delicate, thorny vines. Never seen that before.


    His eyes raked over One with bold appreciation although he did not miss the short falter when she had turned fully around, showing off her eyepatch. Still, despite his momentary surprise, the youth did not back down. One could roughly gauge what kind of man she was facing, and she certainly would have thought that it would deter him from any further conversation. On the other hand, she had to agree that her appearance was not downplayed by the mere lack of an eye.


    It was situations like these where One wished to be a mortal, free of rules and contracts. Because then she would be able to simply rip that human apart. Nothing but a fantasy, she thought resentfully as she performed a polite curtsy.


    ¡°Do you enjoy that old man¡¯s statue?¡± he asked, his eyes lingering on One¡¯s chest region. ¡°My family produced a saint in the past, too, you know? I could show you some artifacts back at my place if you are curious,¡± he offered, his tone dripping with false charm.


    Part of a family that produced a saint but smelling like fresh honey, One would have smiled widely just then, but restrained herself to a thin one. Humans have always been the best jesters.


    ¡°That is a kind offer, young lord,¡± One said, brushing a strand of hair out of her face, ¡°but unfortunately, I have a prior appointment, so I will unfortunately have to decline.¡±


    The youth frowned, not even trying to hide his displeasure and certainly not showing any signs of backing down.


    ¡°That is not a problem at all,¡± he said, recovering some of his false manners, ¡°I could pick you up after you are finished.¡± He inched closer. One¡¯s eyes shot down to his waist. And she spotted no weapon on his belt. Unfortunately, her precaution was misinterpreted.


    ¡°Or we could just find a spot between those hedges,¡± his voice grew quieter, more flirtatious as he was close for his breath to touch One¡¯s face, ¡° where no one can see us and¡­¡± he reached for her sleeve.


    In that instant, One imagined her arm morph into a morning star and end this charade once and for all. Contracts are such a bother, she thought, rough fingers wrapping around her right wrist. One¡¯s mind worked on a solution to this situation that did not involve whatever this youth had in mind, when the necessity for a solution was taken from her.


    ¡°Lupelli, get your filthy fingers off that nun,¡± a woman¡¯s voice boomed from behind. One was quite surprised to find the youth stiffen, eyes growing uncertain. She looked over her shoulder to see a tall, fairly broad-shouldered woman with blazing red hair. As a wind brushed through it and blew it backward, it flickered like a flame. The woman wore only a simple white shirt with the top-most buttons undone, a pair of trousers and boots like one would find on a soldier. A scar ran over her nose, almost touching her eyes. Around her waist hung a thick leather belt with a sheathed longsword strapped to it.


    A paladin, One thought, a fond smile sneaking onto her lips, must run in the family. The woman practically stormed toward them and with her came the stench of a thousand rotting corpses. One could not bear it and killed her sense of smell entirely, although her mere presence seemed to crawl over her skin. That one is a true believer, Shamut got quite lucky.


    As the distance between them narrowed, the youth¡¯s grip on One¡¯s hand loosened and she used that opportunity to retrieve her hand calmly. She made sure not to draw out any ire from the nobleman.


    The youth clenched his teeth, then straightened himself hastily. ¡°Dame del Sole, I don¡¯t think I am deserving of any insult from you. Or should I take this as a slight against the Lupelli family?¡±


    ¡°Spare me that, you runt,¡± she retorted, her hand dropping casually to the hilt of her sword. ¡°Your name means nothing to me. And I am not here to listen to whatever crap you are trying to spout. Scram, kid, before I decide to promote your younger brother to heir apparent,¡± she spat, scowling.


    One observed the interaction with detached curiosity, more interested in the similarities than the occurrence itself. Humans behaved quite similarly no matter the century. And it seemed the blood of the sun remained the same, too.


    Even if One did not know the stations of this youth¡¯s house, it was quite clear that he was cornered. No weapons, no backup, just wounded pride. And the redhead looked more than willing to cut him down. After a few moments of tense staring, he clicked his tongue and offered a dismissive wave.


    ¡°Alright, I get it,¡± he growled. He glanced at One, hesitated, but apparently decided that he would give up for now and started his retreat. As he left the garde, he gave the redhead a wide berth.


    As he walked away, the redhead got closer, her attention turning from the youth to One. Her eyes were razor-sharp, the kind of gaze that had been honed to dissect a person¡¯s thoughts and intentions before they even had a chance to speak. That, too, was something that would never change about them.


    Unfortunately for her, she was trying to read the expressions and emotions of someone that had perfected the craft of hiding and controlling these things for millenia. The only thing she would be able to read was what One wrote on her face.


    She settled for a relieved, slightly fearful expression, a gaze that lingered on the youth¡¯s back for a while, her hand held together against her chest.


    ¡°Are you alright?¡± the woman asked, having finished her analysis and softening her expression. Though there remained a small amount of curiosity in them.


    ¡°Only b-because of you, my lady, ah,¡± One began, then performed a nervous stutter before grabbing onto her dress and performing a curtsy, ¡°I-I greet the y-young sun of Del Sole.¡±


    The Del Sole offspring waved off the formality with a scarred hand. ¡°None of that, please. The Dawn Temple is not the palace, there is no need for formality. And I am not here as a Del Sole, but a paladin of Shamut,¡± she declared, but despite it, her posture remained rigid, betraying years of royal education. She lifted her hand from her sword and extended it toward One.


    ¡°Just call me Stella,¡± she said.


    One gave the hand a nervous glance, reluctantly abandoned her respectful posture and reached out for Stella¡¯s hand, giving it a soft grip and letting her do most of the shaking.


    ¡°I am¡­ Ophelia. It is an¡­ a pleasure to meet you, Stella,¡± she said.


    Stella gave a short laugh, releasing her hand, ¡°The pleasure is mine,¡± she replied. ¡°Are you new here? I thought I knew all the nuns living here, and I¡¯d never forget a face like yours,¡± she said with a grin.


    One allowed a delicate blush to color her cheeks, a short hesitance in her reply. ¡°I am on a pilgrimage, and will be staying here temporarily to recover from journeying,¡± she explained.


    Stella¡¯s eyebrow arched, her gaze flickering to One¡¯s eyepatch. ¡°That sounds dangerous,¡± she said, concern coloring her voice.


    ¡°I have been blessed with a safe journey so far,¡± One responded, infusing her voice with just the right note of grateful humility. ¡°And thanks to you, I remain unharmed yet.¡±


    Stella chuckled, a sound rich with sardonic humor. ¡°That Lupelli brat needs a proper lashing. Ever since his uncle has been elected bishop of the dawn temple, he has been growing more bold. If he should ever trouble you again, tell me.


    ¡°Thank you, Stella,¡± One said with a polite bow.


    Stella put her hands on her hips. ¡°That¡¯s what paladins are for,¡± she said, her smile one of pride and confidence.


    Behind Stella, at the garden¡¯s entrance, two men in gleaming silver armor and pristine white cloaks appeared, their torsos bearing the winged sun of Shamut. Stella, seemingly feeling their presence, looked over her shoulder and sighed. ¡°Duty calls,¡± she said and offered her hand once again.


    One found it odd but thought nothing much of it and reached to shake it. The sun-blooded paladin deftly turned the gesture into something more as she captured One¡¯s hand, and placed a gallant kiss on its back, her warm lips touching on One¡¯s unnaturally cold skin. Shit, One masked her surprise with an embarrassed blush. ¡°I hope we get a chance to speak again soon, Ophelia,¡± Stella  said.


    With a rakish grin, the paladin spun and strode toward the waiting paladins. One rubbed the back of her hand, noting a residual warmth. What a troublesome lass, One thought. At the same time that Stella reached the paladins, a figure passed them, sparing no attention to the three.


    One did not miss the scornful glare Stella gave the passing figure¨Ca flash of pure, unvarnished contempt.


    The scent of pure sweetness replaced that of Stella¡¯s faith, and One¡¯s master strode through the gardens with the same stone-faced expression of indifference he always had on his face. And in his eyes, she saw purpose. Whatever it was, he had something for her to do.

 Chapter 7 - The Beast Out of The Cage

    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    ¡­


    You have defeated [Lower-Grade Clay Golem]. Lower-grade Spirit will be integrated into the Thirteenth Spirit [Thirteen].


    Congratulations! Your existence has reached a new level. You are now a Level 20 Spirit.


    You have received one Stat Point to assign to your stats.


    Strength: 14 ¡ú 15


    Mana: 19,000 ¡ú 20,000


    Thirteen dismissed the notifications of her recent kills after assigning her stat point from the level up. I added some Agility last time, she thought, satisfied with her choice. She stole a glance at her stats.


    Strength: 15


    Agility: 7


    Vitality: N/A


    Intelligence: 11


    Perception: 11


    Willpower: 11


    She collapsed against Nihil¡¯s back, her mana starting to recover from the recent battle. She lay there and crossed her right leg over her left as she examined the ragged tears in her pants. Her left leg was basically bare from below the thigh. At this rate, they would soon be cut up into useless straps of cloth, which would leave her with nothing but her false skin. Then again, it was not like she had benefited from those rags anyway.


    Closing her status, she started to balance her sword on her index finger while enjoying a leisurely ride through a field of cracked dolls and shattered clay. The layer was so thick that walked on her own was almost impossible, and with each of Nihil¡¯s step, she could hear clay cracking and breaking


    Thanks to Nihil, this did not affect her very much, although she wondered if whoever was responsible for making and throwing these golems at her considered what should be done with their remains. ¡°Or maybe we are just exceeding expectations,¡± Thirteen said jokingly.


    Wouldn¡¯t surprise me if he just didn¡¯t care enough. But it¡¯s strange, I would have expected something to happen by now, but it''s just the same cycle over and over. Maybe I¡¯ve been forgotten? Maybe the old man died?


    A defiant thought rose in her head and was immediately silenced. Nope. She was stronger than ever, but the contract still was in place and still restrained her. She was still not at the stage to break a contract from her side, but even if she was, she probably would not do it. Her summoner knew ancient spells and rituals, so it wouldn¡¯t be a stretch to assume he also had the means to punish her.


    Servitude or the Lake of Fire¡­ Barely worth thinking about. Though once I¡¯m done, I¡¯m gonna drag that mortal fuck with me and toss him right into the flaming waves. She smirked at the ceiling before a clicking sound tore her out of her imagination.


    Thirteen pushed herself upright, letting her sword drop into her palm. She crossed her legs and tapped Nihil¡¯s flank. The charger pivoted, turning toward the origin of the noise, which was, surprisingly, the door. That¡¯s probably why the next wave hasn¡¯t arrived yet.


    After being pushed a little, the door suddenly swung open with so much force that it slammed into the wall, hinges screaming in agony. Though the door was of little interest to her when Thirteen saw the man that stood in the frame.


    He was extraordinarily handsome. A symmetrical face, clear skin, healthy black hair that was cut short and a set of entrancing red eyes. His black coat, tailored to fit him perfectly, bore beautiful crimson embroidery that bloomed like flowers along the sleeves and collar.


    Still preening like royalty, ?????. Her thoughts stopped there briefly. Right, names are not a thing anymore.


    Nihil shifted subtly, and Thirteen chuckled with amusement when she noticed that he was trying to enhance his presence, making himself bigger. The man watched her with a kind smile.


    ¡°I¡¯m gonna take an educated guess that you now go by Twelve,¡± she said, her tone flat and direct. Nihil came to a halt about ten feet away from him, keeping his distance. Thirteen thought about making him go further, though she decided against it.


    The man, and spirit, before her gave a negligent wave that could hardly be called a greeting. ¡°And that would make you Thirteen, I presume?¡±


    A sardonic laugh escaped her. ¡°Yeah. Terrible, isn¡¯t it? Giving us fucking numbers as names, who thinks of shit like this,¡± she spat.


    Twelve nodded enthusiastically along with that. ¡°Truly uninspired,¡± he agreed,¡± quite fascinating if you consider that mortals are supposed to be more creative than us. Makes one worry about the state of mind of our summoner, doesn¡¯t it?¡± He shrugged, appearing entirely dispassionate about the issue. ¡°Still,¡± he added, his false joy falling away for a moment, ¡°it¡¯s good to see you¡¯re doing well. How¡¯s your first time in the mortal world been so far?¡± he asked, honest curiosity leaking into his voice.


    Thirteen looked over her shoulder, more to draw Twelve¡¯s gaze to it, before turning back. ¡°Oh, it¡¯s peachy. Can¡¯t say I expected much of this world, and I have been thoroughly disappointed,¡± she said, observing a lack of surprise in Twelve¡¯s expression. ¡°I take it you¡¯ve faced a similar situation.¡±


    Twelve took a step forward, but was stopped from taking another by a strong puff of Nihil. Her charger appeared to still not like Twelve. He did not try to kill him, which at least was an improvement from how he treated most other spirits. Stopping, Twelve shrugged again.


    ¡°I did, and though I did think you would have it easier than me thanks to him,¡± he gave a nod at Nihil, ¡°it seems you¡¯ve faced quite a lot more foes than me.¡±


    ¡°Maybe I just fought more waves,¡± she grinned.


    ¡°Maybe,¡± Twelve said with an ominous smile. ¡°It was a challenge at first, but it got ridiculous after a while. I thought they would make the golems stronger, but they just increased the numbers,¡± his voice turned to pure amusement, ¡°can you believe that anyone would think that five hundred of these things could win against one of me? Honestly, I¡¯m offended at the mere thought.¡±


    Thirteen shrugged, smiling. ¡°Well, they are mortals.¡±


    ¡°True, that,¡± Twelve agreed.


    Thirteen tried to gauge the mana in Twelve and found that it was only a few levels above her, one or two. He was a charmer, like her, but he possessed strength that not many charm spirits could claim. He had remained a prince back home, but he was in every aspect worthy of a king. And even weakened, he did not seem to have lost his edge. Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.


    There was a brief silence as Twelve and Thirteen looked at each other, eyes telling stories of their time in the mortal world. It was after a long while that Twelve¡¯s eyes wandered down to Nihil.


    ¡°That one still doesn¡¯t like me, does he?¡± he asked.


    Thirteen brushed through Nihil¡¯s mane and scoffed. ¡°Nihil doesn¡¯t like anyone,¡± she said.


    ¡°Except for you,¡± Twelve commented.


    ¡°Except for me,¡± she echoed.


    ¡°But he kept his name apparently. He does not look like I remember him though,¡± Twelve remarked.


    ¡°You also have that status-thingy, yeah?¡± Thirteen asked.


    Twelve responded with a curt nod.


    ¡°Well, Nihil doesn''t. I¡¯m not entirely sure on how that works, but I believe that his state is bound to the skill that this system has given me to summon him. Or something like that,¡± she explained, without revealing too much.


    It was true that Nihil did not have a status like her and thus could not level up in a similar manner, however, since Thirteen did not get the essence of enemies he killed, she assumed that Nihil could still grow. It was just not that convenient to monitor.


    Twelve gave a soft chuckle. ¡°We have found ourselves in quite the odd situation, haven¡¯t we? Makes one wonder who could have orchestrated something like this,¡± he said.


    Thirteen¡¯s expression soured. She understood what he was hinting at, and she did not like it. ¡°There are not many who would dare to attack us like this, or who would give this much power to a single mortal. Speaking of mysteries, what exactly are you doing here?¡± she asked.


    ¡°Oh,¡± he exclaimed, ¡°right, nearly slipped my mind,¡± he gave a short laugh before clearing his throat and straightening his back in a comically extra manner. ¡°Our summoner has voiced his desire to have an audience with our two noble selves,¡± he declared in a mockingly pompous tone.


    Thirteen scowled, not hiding her disdain¨Cwhich she was able to only since her summoner was not here.


    Taking note of that, Twelve gasped as if remembering something. ¡°I do recall that he seemed to¡­ not like you very much. I am wondering what you could have done to him. Did Nihil bite him?¡± he asked, waggling his eyebrow mischievously.


    Thirteen shook her head with a thin smile. ¡°I think he simply considers me useless. Not like I have a fancy combat skill like a certain someone,¡± she said, looking past Twelve, out into the space beyond her chamber


    Twelve barked a laugh, stuffing his hands into his pockets. ¡°Mortals, right? Can¡¯t really call ¡®em stupid, but they are certainly not smart. Well, that aside, we should get moving. I heard he actually created a brass vessel.¡±


    ¡°Oh yeah? Who did you hear that from?¡±


    ¡°Our glorious summoner himself. Told me while I was carving the heart out of one of his acolytes. His agenda aside, he sure is a buzzkill,¡± Twelve said, pretending to pout.


    Just as I thought.


    Annoying as it was, now that she had confirmed the existence of a vessel, the means to sentence her to eternal damnation, Thirteen found herself somewhat motivated to do as she was told.


    Considering she had spent¡­ a bunch of time locked inside that chamber, Thirteen found herself quite indifferent to finally stepping outside. Maybe because it had been only a fraction of a fraction of her whole life. I suppose it does feel nice though.


    As it turned out, her chamber was just one of many along a dimly lit hallway that looked quite boring. Right opposite of hers, she spotted another door, closed and judging by the lock and bar holding it shut, locked.


    ¡°That¡¯s Fourteen¡¯s room,¡± Twelve explained before turning left and starting to move down the hallway. Thirteen followed him, losing interest in Fourteen¡¯s door almost immediately.


    After a while of walking, they came across another set of doors, one on the left, another on the right. The latter stood open.


    ¡°That one¡¯s your room?¡± she asked, gesturing toward the opened door.


    ¡°Yep,¡± Twelve replied, then pointing at the room ahead of his own, ¡°and that one¡¯s Eleven¡¯s. Haven¡¯t seen him yet, though.


    Thirteen scoffed as they walked on. ¡°I can¡¯t stand diviners. Always think they know everything.¡±


    ¡°Can you blame them, most of them do,¡± Twelve replied, a light-hearted laugh ending his sentence.


    ¡°Seeing all these rooms, I take it everyone has been summoned?¡± she asked as they passed yet another set of doors.


    Twelve nodded. ¡°He did. Though as much as I despise him for this unnecessary¡­ meddling, I am intrigued with what he has planned.¡±


    Thirteen responded with a dismissive scoff, shoving her hands into the tattered remains of her pants. Her shirt had already been destroyed and its final remnants now served as a makeshift chest wrap. Her gaze drifted to Twelve¨Ca fellow charmer¨Cand his immaculate outfit. There was not even a speck of dust or dirt on it.


    ¡°Stare any harder, and I might get the wrong idea,¡± he teased, a smirk playing across his lips. Thirteen blew a strand of hair out of her face and looked away.


    ¡°As if,¡± she said. ¡°I¡¯m not even your type, moron.¡±


    Twelve chuckled, low and knowing. ¡°And you also know that something like that does not stop me,¡± he remarked, a flicker of memory¨Ctheir first encounter long before either had ascended to the seventy-two¨Cdancing in his eyes. ¡°Or you, for that matter,¡± he added.


    ¡°That was in the past,¡± she huffed. ¡°I¡¯m just envious of that skill of yours,¡± she admitted.


    Tugging at his coat, Twelve allowed the black fabric to stretch effortlessly. ¡°Pretty impressive, right? I¡¯m not even sure if this is still fashionable these days, though. It¡¯s been a century or two since I was last summoned.¡±


    Thirteen had nothing to say in response. She knew nothing of the mortal world and never had an interest in its customs. Spirits like them had everything in their home world, and she could not understand how someone like them would willingly offer their services to mortals. Then again, she had long given up on understanding what was going on in Twelve¡¯s mind.


    As their conversation came to an end, they arrived at an enormous gate¨Ca massive set of doors blocking their path forward. To Thirteen¡¯s surprise, hooded mortals were placed to their left and right, straining against two wall-mounted wheels that seemed to gradually drag the gate open. Their scent was sweet, reminiscent of fresh honey and their dark cloaks seemed to perfectly match the corrupted taint on them.


    Once the opening was wide enough to allow them through, Twelve beckoned Thirteen to follow him, casually throwing a flirtatious wave at one of the mortals.


    ¡°Who are they?¡± Thirteen asked.


    ¡°As far as I know, they are our summoner¡¯s subordinates. Quite fragrant, aren¡¯t they? Smells a bit like¡­ murder.¡±


    ¡°And oath breaking,¡± Thirteen commented, dissecting the smell a little. What kind of oath became clear when Thirteen spied the winged sun symbol on the outside of the gate. ¡°And sacrilege,¡± she added, smirking.


    Beyond the gate lay a circular chamber with a staircase spiraling upward for hundreds of feet. Like a tower, only that there were no windows. Torches flickered along the walls, interspersed with banners bearing Shamut¡¯s winged sun. Three humans stood at the base of the staircase.


    One of them Thirteen recognized instantly: the silver ring adorning his hand, the metallic necklace and the ancient sigil and runes concealed beneath his white and golden robe. Her summoner in all of his vile glory.


    The mere sight of him provoked her displeasure, yet she refrained from showing it. Despite her emotions, she also felt curious about the reason they had been asked to come here. Maybe she would finally learn why she had been dragged into the mortal world.When they approached, the mortal that summoned them turned.


    ¡°Welcome, Your Majesty, Your Highness,¡± he greeted, one bow for Thirteen and another, less deep one for Twelve.


    ¡°You bow well, mortal,¡± Twelve said in the midst of delivering a polite bow alongside Thirteen. Thirteen smiled slightly.


    The old human scoffed. ¡°I had many years to learn,¡± he grumbled. ¡°Thirteen, what happened to your clothes?¡± he asked.


    She scowled, intending to hiss, but only managing to reply honestly, ¡°Ripped while fighting,¡± she said.


    He gave her a scrutinizing glare, which she happily ignored. ¡°It¡¯s of no consequence, follow me,¡± he said and began ascending the stairs. The two other mortals followed behind them.


    ¡°So, Master, what is it that you want us to do? Reignite your marriage''s love? Have a young girl fall for you, or a man¨Cthough I can¡¯t help you with the latter. Is that why you brought Thirteen, too?¡± Twelve asked, his tone jovial, excited.


    He hasn¡¯t changed in the slightest, Thirteen thought.


    ¡°I have no need of your charms,¡± their summoner replied. ¡°I have another task that I need you to complete,¡± he said.


    Twelve feigned disappointment. ¡°You want us to kill something, then?¡±


    ¡°That is part of it, yes,¡± their summoner said, nodding. ¡°There is a monster den that I need you to deal with.¡±


    Thirteen and Twelve looked at each other, before her fellow spirit shrugged.


    ¡°Why use Charmers like us to fight? One or Two can deal with any monster no problem.¡±


    There was a brief silence, which their master eventually broke, never looking back at them.


    ¡°I am aware, Your Highness, but trust me, I know exactly what I am doing.¡±

 Chapter 8 - Sin Under A Saints Eye

    A bishop¡¯s bedroom was quite different from the closet she had been given, but One was not surprised that those with more power found themselves worthy of more qualitative lodging than those beneath them.


    Even though she had not initially cared about her room, since she would rarely spend any time in it, when she found that each bishop had a walk-in closet that was twice as big, she was slightly offended.


    Apart from that, the bishop had an entire wall lined with shelves that carried enough books for a small library and would spend his nights in a bed that would not fit into One¡¯s own room even if you broke it in half.


    Moonlight spilled through expansive windows, casting pools of light across the hardwood floor and illuminating the space with a soft glow. Only Nanna¡¯s pale blue reached the ground today, as Sin was covered in clouds.


    One stepped away from the tall and elegant windows and pulled the white curtains that lined them shut. She would have liked a room like this, but installing a false bishop was probably impossible for her master. They do live a fine life,  she mused as she strolled through the room.


    As she passed the shelves, she dragged a finger across a row of books, until one of them captured her attention. It was leatherbound, with a black spine into which a pentagram had been carved. She drew it from its place¨CExorcisms and Spirits Part 5: The Corrupt and Demons¨Cits body was worn, but well-preserved for the most part. She flipped past the initial pages, her gaze skimming, but not truly engaging before she landed on a page whose headline made her smirk in anticipation.


    The Fallen Seventy-Two.


    The first principal spirit is a King ruling the East, called ¨C.


    She frowned at the word hidden by thick lines of ink. She stifled an annoyed grunt before slamming the book shut and shoving it back into the shelf.


    I¡¯m a fool. He wouldn¡¯t be so careless to keep a copy of a book that would make his tempering void untouched. One was touched by annoyance, but was forced to calm herself when she was interrupted by the jingling of keys, muffled by a few inches of wood.


    A subtle creak of wood betrayed movement on the other side of the door¨Cthe moment she had been waiting for had arrived. She remained where she stood and waited as she heard the key slide into the lock. There was a click and the door swung open. Light from the hallway beyond spilled into the room around the shadow of a man. He entered, his body slightly slouched forward and his steps dragging over the floor. He closed the door behind him with a soft thud and took off the white cap on the top of his head, casting it carelessly onto a stool placed to the right of the door. A deep sigh escaped him as he moved across the room, exhaustion palpable in his every step.


    One started to move, matching her own steps with that of the bishop so that the little noise she made would not be noticed. At the room¡¯s far end waited an old wooden desk. The bishop pulled back the chair, its backrest and seat were covered in what seemed to be black leather pads filled with a soft, bending material. It groaned softly beneath the human¡¯s weight¨Ca sound that reflected the aura around the bishop oddly well. By the time he was seated, One stood behind him, watching.


    The human looked up, his eyes on the door for a couple of seconds before his hand went to one of the desk¡¯s many drawers. He slid it open and extracted a stack of papers, revealing a bottle nestled beneath. He placed it on the polished wooden surface of his desk and retrieved a glass from the same drawer. The cork came free with a soft pop, and he poured a deep red liquid that carried the smell of violet, blended with cherry. Wine. The expensive kind, One determined.


    When the human finished pouring he set the bottle down again and gave the glass in his hands a few swirls. One leaned in, her hand slipping over the bishop¡¯s as he startled, but before he could make so much as a squeak, she pressed a finger against the back of his head, her nail becoming longer, sharper and the cause of his quick death. And as life left the bishop, One stole the glass from his hand and set it down on the table.


    With surgical precision, she pulled out her nail, making it return to normal before holding the bishop¡¯s head to keep him from falling and making any noise. She dragged him out of the chair and set him down on the ground. The wound was too small to leak large amounts of blood or brain matter, but One knew that she would have to clean this up as quickly as possible.


    She stripped him of his clothes, folded them and set them down on the bed. Returning to the corpse, she turned the chair and sat down, taking the glass of wine and giving it a few gentle swirls. She brought it to her lips, and¡­ it was fantastic. After taking a sip, she looked down at the dead man. She looked at his blonde hair, old age having given him a few streaks of gray and a pale face with dark circles under his eyes.The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.


    ¡°Now what to do with you?¡±


    Like any proper holy temple of Shamut, the temple One had been summoned into had a crypt. It was located on the east side of the garden and was subject to regular cleanings to keep up appearances, but Shamut was very strict in his teachings when it came to the rest of the dead, so the resting spirits may not be disturbed under any circumstance.


    Luckily, One would be fine even after committing one or two sins on holy ground, so under the guise of night, she dragged a bag all the way from the bishop chambers, through the main thoroughfare and gardens to the crypt, pried open one of the oldest tombs she could find and tossed the bag inside. When she had disposed of the body, she left the crypts and, on her way back to her quarters, decided to take a brief rest on one of the benches in the garden square.


    It was not like she needed it, and since she had made sure some of the nuns saw her going into her room to sleep and locking the door, no one would suspect her to break curfew.


    She met Aurelio¡¯s marbled eyes, stony accusation in them as if he were about to scold her.


    ¡°I wonder what you would have said to my actions today,¡± she said, leaning on her hands. ¡°Although, knowing you, you would just have prayed for me.¡± She scoffed softly at the cold saint, his white surface basked in the light of Nanna, the pale-blue moon. She never would have thought she would feel bad for trivial things like sacrilege or blasphemy or whatever humans called it when their holy rules were broken, but in front of Aurelio, she had always tried to move within these rules. To now be forced to break them under his watchful eye. Truly, only a saint could make a being like myself feel a thing such as shame.


    One found herself lost in pleasant thought when a small wind brushed past her, and a slight fluctuation of mana appeared to her right. Following the sensation, she found a man standing next to her. He had blond hair, old age having given him a few streaks of gray, and a pale face with dark circles under his eyes. He wore a white robe with golden sleeves without any stains. Without acknowledging his presence, One looked away, settling on Aurelio¡¯s statue again.


    Beside her, she heard a scoff. ¡°Can¡¯t say I blame you, even dead the fool looks better than this one,¡± the man to her side said, patting his chest.


    ¡°I heard rumors that you are supposed to be the quiet type,¡± One said matter-of-factly.


    ¡°Yeah? I heard rumors this one liked to stick his hands where they didn''t belong. There was a particular emphasis on nuns and their skirts,¡± the man chimed, a low chuckle following. ¡°What do you say, One, willing to help me act out this role?¡± As the question left his mouth, he drew closer and extended a hand toward One, which she promptly grabbed with enough force to break it. If it were a real hand, that is.


    ¡°It¡¯s Ophelia,¡± she corrected, eyeing him dispassionately. ¡°You should remember that, Five.¡±


    Five smiled. ¡°Right, right,¡± he said, twisting his arm and waving his hand under her grip, ¡°pleasure to meet you, Ophelia, Sister of the Holy Order of the Sun God,¡± he added with a mocking smirk. ¡°I am Bishop¡­ Pablo, Paulo? No, Petro.¡±


    ¡°It¡¯s Piero,¡± One said, finally letting go of his wrist.


    ¡°Really? I could have sworn it was Petro,¡± he rubbed his wrist in an act of false pain.


    And that solved the question of how her master was going to hide the assassination of a bishop. He just replaced him with a look-alike. Or rather, a shapeshifting spirit president. Choosing Five for that is certainly a choice, but then again, most of the others are worse than him.


    ¡°And why are you here?¡± she asked. ¡°Bishop Piero is supposed to be sleeping in his quarters right now.¡±


    Five shrugged, raising an eyebrow at her. ¡°If you wanna play the blame-game, then isn¡¯t it your fault that he is no longer sleeping there?¡± He scoffed when One did not react to that. ¡°I was on my way there, but I sensed you in the garden and came to have a chat. I don¡¯t know about you, but I haven¡¯t talked to any of the others since our summoning, so I saw this as an opportunity.¡±


    ¡°Talking right now is¡­ dangerous. A single nun spotting us might ruin our master¡¯s plan, and I have no interest in being thrown into the lake,¡± One said, her voice stern.


    ¡°¡®Master¡¯, eh? I didn¡¯t think a great king such as yourself would accept someone like that guy. Especially after what he has done to us,¡± Five said, a frown on his face and his tone hostile.


    ¡°You have ascended?¡± One asked, redirecting the conversation. Talking about their master behind his back might backfire, at least in an open space like this.


    Five grunted his confirmation. They both knew that such things could not be hidden from another spirit and Five probably already knew that One had ascended, too. As little as she had interacted with Five in the past, he was not known for his stupidity¨Cunlike some others. And if he had ascended, then he would be aware of the true issue with this absurd system they had been forced into.


    ¡°I¡¯m working on it,¡± One said, her eyes drawn to one of the garden¡¯s entrances and a weak light crawling up on grass and flowers. . ¡°Let¡¯s talk another time, leave, someone¡¯s coming,¡± she said, her voice lowered.


    Five was clearly displeased, scowling at the distant light. He clearly thought that there was still room for argument, so One put a hand on his shoulder as she got to her feet and turned the two of them invisible. ¡°Leave. Now,¡± she said in a mildly authoritative tone. Five¡¯s shoulder disappeared from under her hand, and his presence began retreating away.


    One, too, had intended to silently slip away and return to the nun quarters, but there was something about the torchbearer that made her hold off on that. Hair that seemed to become one with the light of the fire as a gentle wind fanned it, sending the strands of fire swaying gently. It was, without a doubt, the saint-blooded paladin.