ã€ŠGodless Warã€‹


 Chapter 1 - Improvement

    ¡°Gods are everlasting beacons of hope. Stalwart defenders or wicked tormentors destined to be worshipped or scorned. Beings so glorious that entire nations crumble or rise based on their whims. But what happens when the gods themselves fall? Not one errant god usurped by mortals or torn down by his divine brethren¡ªbut all of them, even the Creator? What manner of power would claw its way out of the ruins of former divinity to wrest control of an empty pantheon? These are questions none of us dared ask while the ever-loving grace of the gods swaddled us and kept us from harm, but now, in the vast drifting void of godlessness, we find our existence meaningless, and our hope turned to despair as we look into a future bereft of divinity.¡±

    - Hana Thural, High Priest of the Church of Creation, 416 of the second Epoch, Age of the Fall

    The tip of her sword was shaking. She tried to muffle her gasping breaths with every ounce of willpower she had left, but her hand just wouldn¡¯t keep her sword steady. She braced herself for the inevitable outcome.

    ¡°Keep your arm steady, Reyleigh!¡±

    Sharp pain blossomed in her armoured side from a blunted sword-swing. The blow shoved her off balance, breaking her stance. She used the last of her strength to stabilise, which left her totally unprepared for the sudden elbow that smashed into her breastplate and lifted her off of the ground. The sand of the sparring ring rushed up to meet her. Trying and failing to turn in the air, she only managed an undignified flop, landing face first in the dirt.

    ¡°Rule number one Reyleigh; keep your sword steady!¡± The man standing over her leaned in, his voice lowering but not softening. ¡°You¡¯re better than this¡­ Now, get up!¡±

    He held his hand out toward her. Gripping it, she hoisted herself to her feet.

    Alistair¡ªthe man currently training her¡ªhad been her mentor for as long as she could remember. Some would describe him as rugged or handsome, others as dangerous or scary. Most would avoid him and scurry out of the way if they met him in a dark alley. His sunken eyes and angular features, combined with a penchant for blinking a little too infrequently, gave him an intense air. Reyleigh had seen him angry and knew that the intensity alone could force grown men to shiver and make the air grow thick. He wore his charcoal hair tied back into a ponytail and wore high-quality leather armour in shades of green.

    ¡°Again!¡± Alistair said, while whipping both his short swords around in his hands.

    Reyleigh exhaled and gripped her greatsword. Circling each other, Reyleigh couldn¡¯t see a single opening. His form was impeccable. Still, she only hesitated for a single second before she charged at him, her massive greatsword held high, readied for a downward strike. She was using the forms drilled into her by countless hours of gruelling training supplied by the instructors of The Watch, and even Alistair himself. Her skill was honed to the point of muscle memory and her substantial strength forced her blade downward with a whistle to deliver a devastating blow to Alistair¡¯s head. The man in question, however, stood impossibly still until her blade was inches away from his face, and at the last possible moment, he angled his body with a single effortless movement to dodge her strike. In the same breath, he whipped his left sword up to catch her much larger blade, eliciting a mighty clang and deflecting it to the ground. While Reyleigh struggled to keep her balance, his other shortsword moved with blinding speed into a sideways swing¡ªa move she now knew was designed to knock her completely out of her form. It was the same move that had led to her sprawled in the dirt with a face full of dust a minute earlier, but this time she knew what was coming and had prepared accordingly. She shifted her stance. Forced the momentum of her errant blade to slow and strained her muscles. With a mighty heave she reversed the sword¡¯s trajectory into an arc, which she used to tilt herself away from the incoming edge of the incoming blade and continue the motion into a spin. A small, tight-lipped smile tugged at her mouth as she evaded the thrust. Her wild spin was almost complete. The rotation designed to push her sword¡¯s momentum to its limits. But just as her blow was about to land, she saw an armoured foot rushing towards her face.

    Fuck! She thought, just as Alistair¡¯s foot crashed into her face and whipped her head back with crushing force.

    Reyleigh somehow remained standing. Her head spinning and her vision blurry. She spit out a mouthful of blood and tried to focus, but Alistair showed no mercy. Another kick followed the first. He spun in the air, and his other foot came for her chest. Raising her sword haphazardly, she reacted on pure instinct, pivoting her sword from one side to the other. Her sword moved blindingly fast. With lightning speed, it arrived at her desired location and the flat of the blade deflected the foot coming for her torso. For a glorious moment, her face threated to split into a full-on grin, but her elation was short-lived. Alistair seemed to flicker, and before she could blink, both the pommels of his swords crashed into her helmet.

    Once again, she found herself on the ground.

    ¡°Better. You¡¯re improving¡­¡± He looked at her critically. ¡°We¡¯ll continue this¡­ later.¡±

    More than a little dizzy, Reyleigh got to her feet. Her head was spinning, but her feelings surged at the high praise. Alistair was a quiet man, and any words spoken were meaningful. Being told that anything at all was improving was a rare treat.

    Ducking her head in a slow bow that hid her tight-lipped grin, she walked drunkenly off of the field. Casting Alistair a last hidden glance, she could have sworn she saw a smile tug at his lips before he turned around to the next waiting recruit, which in turn made her grin even harder through the fading pain in her head.

    Her thoughts lowly clearing, she moved quickly, her armoured form cutting a path through the nineteen other recruits on the field. Alistair had hit her hard, but she was used to it, and even though it hurt, it never left lasting damage. Her short stature helped her navigate between the fighters and her battle honed grace saw her swiftly to the other side. She savoured the victory as she jogged past the last pair. That was the first time she had dodged that particular set of moves, and the progress was tangible, her movements smother and faster.

    Finally, clear of the training field, she unclasped her steel helmet and hoisted it onto her shoulder by the strap. The warm breeze felt wonderful and cleared the last vestiges of fuzziness from her bruised head. Her lip had split from the first kick, and she touched it gingerly before ignoring it.

    It would heal, like all the other scrapes and bruises.

    Messy blond hair the colour of straw spilled out from her helmet, revealing her slightly pointed elf ears for a second before they were hidden by the locks settling down her back. Most other women in the Watch cut their hair short, but she had refused, opting for bundling it within her helmet instead.

    Thankfully, the rules permitted her indulgence.

    Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

    Reyleigh transitioned from her jog into a purposeful walk through the streets within the Watches¡¯ quarter. Soon she came upon the barracks. The familiar building, with its straw roof and stone walls, brought back a slew of memories. She had been a member of the Watch for several years. Even though the training was gruelling, and the food even more so, she couldn¡¯t help feeling like it had become a home of sorts.

    Entering an open door into a small hallway, she took the next door on the right into the recruit¡¯s quarters. Automatically closing the door behind her, she passed a couple dozen beds before she found her own austere top bunk against the back wall. Taking off her gloves, she threw them in a sack hanging from the bedpost before jumping up and untying her heavy leather boots and throwing them to the floor. Lying back, the familiar smell of her dry hay mattress filled her nose, and she breathed deeply.

    A couple of moments passed in complete silence. All the others were still on the field. Almost dozing off, she shook herself.

    Not the time for a nap¡­ She reminded herself.

    Eying her pack hanging beside her armour sack, she made up her mind and started rummaging through it until she found her most cherished possession: a small pendant. It was slightly bigger than her thumb, undecorated and unremarkable aside from its clear golden shine. Such luxuries as a well-crafted pendant were scarce after The Fall, and something ordinarily only possessed by those of considerable means. Inside was a small mirror. A perfect reflective surface of a kind she had seen nowhere else. You could use water or other similar surfaces for the same effect, but the pendant delivered a totally perfect reflection, which was far superior and almost magical. The incredible craftmanship and the fantastical mirror made her locket truly one of a kind.

    Slowly opening the small lock on the edge, she separated the pendant and revealed the mirror inside. The surface twinkled in the afternoon sunlight shining in through the open windows of the barracks.

    Her reflection looked back at her.

    The smile from before hadn¡¯t really faded from her mouth, her lips still slightly upturned, giving her a cheerful look. A small cut on her lip glistened in the light with a drop of blood threatening to spill from it.

    Looking closer, she could see her straw-blond hair, slanted blue-grey eyes, thin-lipped mouth hiding her sharp teeth, and her bushy platinum eyebrows only visible against her pearly unmarred skin because of the remaining dust from the training yard. Her face was steeply angled with a sleek jawline culminating in a sharp chin. All the outlandish features gave her a distinct exotic look in contrast to the stocky, sunburned locals. She loved her face. Not because of the obvious beauty that even she couldn¡¯t deny, but because of the process that began within her mind¡¯s eye when she scrutinised her face like this. Letting her mind drift away, she felt a familiar set of fragmented memories surface, making her eyes lose focus.

    The changes started slowly.

    Her hair turned from straw-blond into something lighter, almost platinum, but with an azure glow to it. The transformation moved on to her eyes, which lost their grey tinge and became clear blue pools, ready to suck her in. Her smile blossomed fully, showing teeth as sharp as blades with little space between them, resembling a row of thin spears. Pearly skin changed from white to translucent, almost ethereal, with a rosy sheen to the cheeks. What a moment earlier had been her own young half elfin face was now a mature and aloof rendition of the perfect elf. A queen among queens and the most beautiful creature Reyleigh could imagine. She lost herself to the mirage. Her eyes unblinkingly staring.

    The sound of the wooden door to the barracks being slammed against the wall made her start, shattering the illusion. A set of well-known voices filled her sharp ears; ¡°I told you Owen! Practice your faints! I could spot them from two miles away while fucking your sister.¡±

    Two burly humans jostled through the door with their usual banter going. A large yellow beard framed the face of the one speaking. His bushy eyebrows over small brown eyes framed his large boisterous smile. A massive door-sized tower shield made of wood planks swayed on his back and a short sword was strapped to his thigh. He slapped the other, smaller man on the back, his long hair jostling with the motion.

    ¡°You know you wouldn¡¯t be able to catch my sister if she had both arms tied behind her back and one leg lopped off! And with your tiny eyes, I¡¯m surprised you could see me at all. Have you unlocked some sort of squinting skill Harald?¡± Owen replied, while standing on his toes and searching the taller man¡¯s eyes.

    Owen was training to be a scout, and his lithe muscles matched his profession. Two long daggers sat comfortably attached to each of his hips, with plenty of smaller ones hidden among the straps and belts on his leather armour. Brown half-length hair tied in a short ponytail with strands hanging down the side of his face framed his clean-shaven jaw and expressive green eyes, which were crinkled in mirth as he teased his best friend.

    Reyleigh liked the two men, mostly because they were the only ones who didn¡¯t wince when they saw her pointed ears ¨C aside from Alistair, of course, but she didn¡¯t really think Alistair could wince even if he tried to. He had probably lost the ability in some god-forsaken dungeon somewhere.

    ¡°Ooh! Our resident beauty admiring her reflection again, I see!¡± Owen spotted the locket before Reyleigh could stash it back into her pack, and being Owen, he commented as loudly as possible.

    ¡°Nah, I was just looking into my all-seeing mirror to spot your cock but seeing as it¡¯s the smallest thing in the world, even my mystical artifact couldn¡¯t find it.¡± Reyleigh smiled her tight-lipped smile and deflected the barb from Owen.

    A stricken look crossed Owen¡¯s face and he theatrically clung to Harald mimicking taking an arrow to the heart.

    ¡°A frightful blow, fair maiden. I might be dead ere the coming moon from such devastating power!¡±

    Hanging from Harald, Owen coughed and slowly fell to the floor, hacking and sputtering before lying there like a corpse.

    ¡°Oy! Move your carcass, Owen!¡±

    ¡°Yea, stop playing around! It¡¯s hot out here!¡±

    The other recruits started complaining behind him, so Harald picked the smaller man up by the strap of his armour and sent him flying onto the nearest bunkbed.

    ¡°Thanks Harald, who knew muscled hulks were good for something other than meat shields.¡±

    The recruits filed past Harald, giving him slaps on the back and laughing at Owens¡¯ crumpled form, still playing dead on the bunk.

    Reyleigh almost cracked a full smile at their antics, but years of practice held her lips together while she finished stashing away her locket and started removing her armour. She was grateful for the duo and their camaraderie. They were always there to defuse the tension after a harsh reprimand or training session.

    Her fingers moved with practiced ease to loosen the straps and buckles on her arms and sides. The standard issue leather armour she wore was old and worn, the straps loosened and tightened a thousand times. She eyed the chest piece as she slipped it over her head and could still see the marks where she had expanded the straps when she grew. The fit of her armour hadn¡¯t needed adjustment for a few years now, since she stopped growing when at fifteen. Now, at twenty, her body was muscled and toned to a point where it stayed mostly the same size. She was thankful for that fact as she had had the mortifying experience of taking out the bust straps two times since she got it. Her hurried attempts to hide it had been sussed out by Owen on both occasions, which led to him promptly announcing the event to the entire company.

    He had received his due diligence in the form of a stray elbow to his groin in training.

    Harald moved between the bunks and found his way to the one below hers. He put a hand on her shoulder while slinging his helmet on the bedding.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry about Alistair. He¡¯s such a hardass, and I know you say you don¡¯t mind, but we all notice that he¡¯s harder on you than anybody else.¡±

    ¡°What do you mean? That¡¯s the highest praise I¡¯ve gotten from him for three months!¡± Reyleigh replied with a frown.

    Harald started removing his armour and gave her a slanted gaze.

    ¡°If you say so, Rey. Almost knocking you out two times doesn¡¯t seem like praise to me. None of us are eating dirt at every spar either. The man seems like he has the emotional range of a block of iron, but if you say he¡¯s praising you, then I guess he is¡­¡±

    ¡°I appreciate the concern Harald, but it¡¯s not needed. He¡¯s only concerned about me, that¡¯s all.¡±

    Harald looked into her eyes for a moment before letting out a grunt and a nod.

    Grunting back¡ªto Harald¡¯s amusement¡ªReyleigh took off the last pieces of her armour and put them in the worn cloth sack with her gloves. Putting on her off-duty shoes and clothes, she slung the sack over her shoulder before walking toward the exit.

 Chapter 2 - Barracks

    The breeze wafting through the barracks carried the stench of sweaty soldiers as Reyleigh squeezed past her comrades on her way out. She shivered as the perspiration from training dried on her neck and arms, which were sticking out of her white, bordering on beige, wool tunic. The breeze reached her bare shins because of her black woollen pants, which were three sizes too short. She didn¡¯t really mind, but it gave her the look of a sailor when not wearing her greaves¡ªor at least that¡¯s what she¡¯d been told by the few merchants that visited Unbern.

    ¡°You washing that thing again, Reyleigh?¡±

    A sardonic voice met her in the doorway as she was about to push past the last of the burly men barring her way.

    She had been too busy ruminating on her shoddy outfit and carelessly walked right up to her least favourite person in the city. The man in question was called Themis and wore a lopsided grin that complimented his piglike eyes haughtily glaring at her through unkept black hair. He wore polished full plate armour emblazoned with his ostentatious family crest and a hilt of a greatsword rested above his plated shoulder. Themis was the only recruit who wielded the same weapon as her and also the only one that could afford a full suite of platemail. He loved to go on and on about how his father had ordered it even before he officially joined the Watch. Harald had told him to shut it once, which was a treasured memory for Reyleigh. The resulting scuffle was still legendary among their little group.

    ¡°Leave me alone Themis, I don¡¯t have time for your shit today.¡±

    She tried to walk around him, but he barred her way with his outstretched arm.

    ¡°You should be thankful that I don¡¯t report your behaviour to the council, half-breed,¡± he spat. ¡°Your savage ways are a detriment to the Watch. If it wasn¡¯t for your elf loving lapdog, you would be cowering with the other filth at the slave market where you belong.¡±

    His eyes narrowed and his smile grew wider at her now still form.

    To her surprise, Reyleigh could feel red fiery flames welling up inside her, howling for her to tear that filthy grin off his face. She clenched her jaw. Stabbing pain assaulted her cheeks, and she felt blood welling in her mouth, her razor-sharp teeth piercing her gums.

    ¡°You do not talk about Alistair like that.¡± Her voice sounded like disturbed gravel as she forced the syllables out through her locked jaw. ¡°He¡¯s a hero! And you should be fucking grateful, you piece of shit!¡±

    Rayleigh could feel her control slipping and she started screaming halfway through. The reason she reacted so strongly to his insult wasn¡¯t his jabs at her, but rather the complete lack of respect toward Alistair. Abuse, directed at her personally was so common that she didn¡¯t even notice, but Alistair was a hero to Unbern. The man had single-handedly fought off monsters, foreign armies, and bandit lords. He was stoic and coarse, even a little mean spirited at times, but he had saved her from her fate, and he had protected her from the council. Without him, she was less than nothing and she would not tolerate a spoiled brat like Themis tarnishing his name.

    Her anger peaked. Unable to hold herself back, she coiled her arm and let loose in a swift punch aimed at his midsection. A signature move she had used several times before. Her inner voice urged her to show caution, but she ignored it. A loud smack rang out as her fist connected. Before she knew what happened, she gasped. Sharp pain assaulted her wrist, and she realised that she had hit something far more solid than Themis¡¯ stomach.

    ¡°The Watch does not condone unsupervised training recruit Reyleigh. The same goes for you recruit Themis.¡±

    A calloused palm held Reyleigh¡¯s fist in an iron grip just a few centimetres before Themis¡¯ most sensitive area. With a rush of satisfaction, she saw Themis¡¯ expression. He had flinched and was defending his torso in a defensive posture.

    Reyleigh quickly straightened to her full height and removed her fist from Alistair¡¯s grip. For a second, she thought he wouldn¡¯t let go, but she must have imagined it, as the resistance vanished and she could easily pull her fist back. That didn¡¯t stop her from wincing at the pain in her wrist and fingers, though; his grip was like a bear-trap. Forcing her body into rigid attention, she looked at her mentor with a barely concealed grin.

    ¡°Sir yes sir, I was only trying to exit the barracks sir, and my hand must have slipped sir.¡± She half shouted.

    Alistair looked from her to Themis and answered with a wave of his hand.

    ¡°Mistakes happen recruit Reyleigh. I hope that this is the last time I catch you slipping for a while. And recruit Themis, go get cleaned up, will you? Your shiny armour will certainly rust if you don¡¯t oil it for the thousandth time.¡±

    Themis straightened into attention, his eye twitching periodically.

    ¡°Sir yes sir, I will see to that at once, sir!¡±

    Themis scurried inside the barracks and disappeared behind the bunk beds, but not before turning his head and giving both of them a filthy look.

    Lowering his voice, Alistair leaned toward Reyleigh. ¡°That seemed a little excessive... I can¡¯t be here to protect you every time something happens, and you know the council is coming for your head. Having a half-elf in the Watch is a stain on their honour, and you know how much they care about that.¡±

    Alistair then stepped aside and lowered his voice into a whisper, only barely moving his lips.

    ¡°I just came from a council meeting and the next set of exams are coming up. I¡¯m going to recommend you. It¡¯s time. You¡¯re strong Rey. Just get your feelings under control and you¡¯ll rise within the Watch. The Fallen only knows, maybe you could even take my place at some point.¡±

    He flashed a strange, solemn expression before continuing.

    ¡°You are going to live for a long time. Don¡¯t make enemies frivolously, especially Themis. Something might happen to change things soon, and he¡¯s probably going to be in your squad on the exam.¡±

    Putting his hand on Reyleigh¡¯s shoulder, his eyes moved to find hers. Reyleigh tried to answer, but the reply was stuck in her throat. She knew he was right, as always. His somewhat alarming way of phrasing things didn¡¯t bother her, and a quiet second passed between them before he nodded and started walking into the barracks.

    ¡°Thanks, I¡¯ll try...¡± Reyleigh whispered.

    Alistair walked between the closest, gawking recruits on his way out. She was positive he had heard her, even if he didn¡¯t visibly react.

    Most watchmen got Classes like Soldiers but Alistair was a Ranger¡ªan unfathomably high level one at that. People speculated he was over level one hundred, but she doubted it. He was insanely strong to be sure, but to reach one hundred was said to be the first step into the domain of the fallen, and gods didn¡¯t serve as Rangers in the Watch ¨C at least none she ever heard of. All the stories always described the former gods as mages of some sort, wielding powerful magics or just outright changing reality to their whims. One story even told of a mere echo of a God being able to defeat a legendary dragon.

    If a mere echo of a god could defeat something like that, what would someone, even barely in the first step of the domain of the fallen, be able to do? Raze a city to the ground? Probably... Thinking about it, maybe Alistair could do something like that¡­

    Musing on such meaningless things, she waved at Owen¡ªwho had miraculously recovered from his dead state¡ªand headed out. It was a short stroll from the barracks to the mustering and training fields before she entered the market district. Continuing her musings, she contemplated what it would feel like to be such a high level.

    Rayleigh had never checked her own status, but she had been told that she was nearing the point where it was prudent to do so, which was the first real step up in individual power. When someone checked one¡¯s status for the first time, that person could choose a Class and start advancing it. However, checking your status was dangerous. A long journey to the nearest dungeon was required and few people had the means or will to brave such an undertaking. The power one gained from the attributes a Class and accumulation of levels provided, however, was astronomical, and someone at even level ten could easily exterminate a dozen unclassed people.

    This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

    Not to say you were useless before selecting a class. A battalion of unclassed soldiers could do some damage, and was an integral part of the military of certain countries. Getting a Class, however, would turn a battalion from a nuisance into a force to be reckoned with. Reyleigh had heard that the Confederacy¡ªa theocratic county to the west¡ªused conscripts drafted from the unclassed citizenry in wartime to overwhelm stronger opponents by training them to form ranks and teaching them simple tactical techniques.

    Unbern didn¡¯t subscribe to this philosophy. Being a city state, it didn¡¯t really have the largest population to draw from and subsequently trained a Classed military and Watch corps instead. The exam that Alistair recommended her for was held as a way to pad one¡¯s stats in a last exercise before getting a Class. Completing it marked a recruit¡¯s entrance into the actual Watch corps. The exam was usually held a couple of times a year, with a group of examinees entering one of the nearby dungeons.

    Reyleigh had never been inside a dungeon. She had only guarded the path a few times, which earned her a few monster cores when random monsters attacked the defences. The cores had been used to pay for the upkeep of her greatsword and armour. Seeing the nobility and wealthy young people of Unbern getting their Classes had been a delight to her. Some said the experience left a sour taste in their mouths while watching the elite exercise their privilege, but she loved the wonder in the young people¡¯s faces and the excited murmuring around the Dungeon Orb. Recruits and soldiers like her were usually older when they chose a Class so that they could benefit fully from the rigorous training, hopefully giving them better and stronger Classes.

    Untying the core-pouch at her waist, she upended it into her hand while walking past the now empty training fields and continuing through the Watch¡¯s grounds. Located on the east side of the landlocked city, the grounds were the first defence against external threats if the attackers ever got through the outer walls. Although, she doubted they ever would while Alistair was in the city, since nothing had gotten past the first set of walls since he rose to power.

    Four small sparkling orbs landed in her hand, and she eyed them critically. It had been over two months since she was last on guard duty and seeing as the recruits¡¯ pay was room and board and not much else, she only had four copper cores to her name. Cores were graded by size, where the smallest size was designated as copper. Ten coppers equalled one silver core, ten silver cores equalled one gold core, and if one ever got their hands on ten gold cores, they were equal to one platinum core. Each consecutive size was exactly ten times as large as the previous tier and all cores were harvested from monsters or found lying around in dungeons. If you had ten bronze cores, you could use a small application of mana to combine them into a single silver. The same went for silver into gold and gold into platinum. If there was a tier above that, Rayleigh had never heard of it.

    Bronze cores were about the size of a small pea, silver the size of a bean, and gold was roughly equivalent to a walnut. Considering how much each tier grew when combined, she guessed that platinum would be the size of an orange. Most people only handled bronze or silver, while gold cores were only really used for large transactions before being separated by another application of mana down to silver again. She found it puzzling that the actual core colours were the same as their designations, but she guessed that was a happy coincidence.

    She loved the colours of the cores and their ever-changing insides. They looked like small gems filled with fog, which would change colour and shape every few seconds. Reyleigh had heard that the civilisations that existed before The Fall had used metals like bronze, gold, and silver as their currency and that the names for the cores were derived from that ancient system. The silliness of using precious metals for coinage was pretty amusing to her. She could understand using metals with magical properties or just pure iron, but using frivolous metals for such a thing made no sense at all. You could buy gold and silver jewellery with cores at the marketplace, and it could even be quite expensive, especially if it was enchanted, but the base materials were relatively cheap, especially when measured against cores. You could get a plain gold ring for about three bronze cores if you wanted to, even though Reyleigh couldn¡¯t fathom why people used cores on such useless luxury items. She had her locket, which was more than enough for her. Thinking about it, she did realise that the locket was a priceless artefact, which probably made her views a little skewed. She was lucky it was nondescript and seldom noticed, or it would have been stolen a long time ago.

    She looked at her meagre number of cores again.

    Should I just keep them and absorb them after the exam? She thought. I would gain some progress to the next level, and I have what gear I need for the exam already¡­.

    The ability to use cores to level was the main reason cores were so important that the world used them as currency. Anyone could absorb cores and gain the power contained within for themselves. One would think that this gave rise to a superhuman society full of powerful individuals, but the number of cores you needed to consume rose exponentially with each level gained. Also, most people saw no designation outside of bronze cores and they were hardly worth it as they were more beneficially used to buy food, shelter, and equipment with which you could use to get stronger by training or fighting monsters.

    Alistair would lecture her about the dangers of cores, stating that:

    ¡°Cores give a false strength, unearned, misunderstood and frankly dangerous. Even if you could reach level one hundred by wealth alone, you would just implode when casting your first spell.¡±

    She lowered her voice in her head, mimicking his stern manner of speech, as she usually did when recounting his advice. Rayleigh was not in any doubt to whether or not Alistair was right. He was the mightiest human in Unbern and if he said something; it was the law as far as she was concerned, and she probably had most of the other citizens on her side as well.

    She put her cores back into her pouch. She would try not to spend them. Having money was a kind of strength in itself and she would be remiss if she didn¡¯t factor that in. You never knew when times would get desperate and you either needed a push to the next level or just food in your stomach.

    Rounding the last building inside the Watch¡¯s grounds, she walked between the two guards standing on either side of the wooden gate leading out into the market district.

    Unbern was never a planned city, and as far as she knew it had just sprung up organically after The Fall which made its planning haphazard. She would guess that the market district being in between the Watch¡¯s Grounds and the living quarters was pretty optimal, though. If an attack ever breached the city, the inhabitants could flee into their homes or to the council¡¯s chambers, which rested atop the small hill in the centre of the city, leaving the market district as a buffer.

    As she passed the guards with a wave, a warm breeze blew a couple of tumbling plants past her. Unbern stood on arid land, and was always dry, windy, and all around inhospitable. The soldiers joked that the landscape was as close to a desert as the elves were to wild beasts¡ªand discounting the stinging allegory¡ªthey were right. The climate had a way of draining moisture faster than it was possible to replenish it and without the enormous lake in the north district supplying the city with an endless store of water, the humans and other races living there wouldn¡¯t have been able to settle the area.

    Walking to the nearest aqueduct, she nodded to one of her fellow guards as she refilled her waterskin and poured some over her head and front at the same time. The cool water felt good and cleaned off some of the dust from her earlier training. Just as if on cue, the young guard, around her own age, which she had seen but never spoken to before, cleared his throat.

    ¡°I seen you around the training field. You Alistair¡¯s girl?¡± He had a bit of an accent, but didn¡¯t seem to be making fun of her like some others, so Reyleigh answered with a level tone.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know if I¡¯m his girl, but he is my mentor.¡±

    She couldn¡¯t hide the slight edge that entered her voice. She wouldn¡¯t abide any more slander of Alistair in her presence. Lately, she had overheard people spreading the most horrible rumours about him and she didn¡¯t know what she would do if someone repeated them to her face.

    The guard held up his arms disarmingly. ¡°Ah, sorry miss, didn¡¯t mean any offence. Just heard about you, is all. The other privates say you¡¯re a good fighter and that you¡¯ll become a strong guard when you graduate. Looking at you now, I can¡¯t help but agree.¡±

    His eyes strayed down the front of her tunic to where the water was still dripping after she¡¯d cooled off. She followed his eyes and saw that the fabric clung lightly to her chest. Nothing indecent as far as she was concerned, but it had certainly caught his attention.

    Reyleigh frowned, an edge of steel entering her voice.

    ¡°I¡¯m glad you like my prospects, but maybe you should focus on your own instead of ogling young women in the streets?¡±

    Averting his eyes with a slight blush, he mumbled something incomprehensible before continuing his patrol of the aqueduct.

    Breathing a sigh of relief, she was grateful that he was young and inexperienced, or things could have taken a much darker turn. Most shunned her half-elven appearance, but a small minority found it exotic or just wanted to take out their anger for the elven race¡¯s atrocities on her. She had planted several fists and elbows in sensitive places on the most insistent idiots. She supposed she was lucky that Alistair had prepared her and taught her how to deal with idiots like that. Not to discount the almost certain possibility of her becoming a slave if not for his intervention, which would make advances such as these the least of her problems. Slaves had almost no rights in Unbern, and she couldn¡¯t help a small shiver running down her spine as she watched the back of the private receding down the street.

    At least he was doing his duty and keeping the aqueducts free of debris and filth. She had heard stories of people defecating in the aqueducts and was thankful the council had cracked down hard on such animal behaviour. The law stated that repeated offenses were punishable by death¡ªwhich might seem harsh¡ªbut the water was so precious to the city and its inhabitants that it was warranted.

    The other recruits often teased Reyleigh for her cleanliness. She didn¡¯t know if it was just her elven blood or her preference, but she couldn¡¯t stand being dirty for extended periods of time without good reason. Literally reeking like some people wandering the city was a cardinal sin as far as she was concerned. Going to get her armour cleaned could maybe be called an obsession, but she wouldn¡¯t forsake it for anything. She was not so prim as to fear filth or not being able to manage extended periods in the wild, but if she had any choice at all, being clean was of the highest priority.

 Chapter 3 - Henrietta

    Reyleigh hastened past market stalls, small shops, restaurants, and taverns toward her bathhouse of choice, which just happened to be the cheapest one in the city. Jogging the last of the way, she finally entered the one-story sandstone building ringed by low walls and unkept gardens. The bathhouse was cheap but not decrepit as the proprietor kept it well maintained. At one point, the walls of the inner structure had been painted blue, but now they were worn down to the alabaster colour of the original sandstone. She glimpsed the communal pool through the inner gate and spotted a couple of guests soaking with their heads barely above the water.

    Standing with her back against a barren orange tree was her only real friend in the city¡ªbeside Owen and Harald, of course. Tiptoeing towards the orange tree, she jumped the last couple of meters to land with a crash in front of the unaware woman. A squeal shattered the afternoon atmosphere as Reyleigh¡¯s feet hit the ground, making her armour sack jangle as an extra bonus.

    ¡°Ah! Gods dammit Rey! How are you so sneaky with that massive hammer on your back? I should put some bells on you or something!¡±

    Henrietta¡¯s green-eyed glower hit her through a mess of half-length red hair. She wore a white dress with a simple bronze ornament holding one shoulder strap over her right shoulder.

    ¡°I¡¯ve told you a thousand times Henri, it¡¯s a greatsword, G R E A T S W O R D. Not a hammer.¡±

    Reyleigh wagged her finger in her friend¡¯s face as she lectured her for what felt like the hundredth time.

    ¡°And bells would take all the fun out of it, what would the world be like if I couldn¡¯t scare my one and only civilian friend every time I see her?¡± Flashing Henrietta one of her signature tight-lipped smiles, Reyleigh batted her eyes at her innocently.

    Snorting, Henrietta relented.

    ¡°Ok, ok. So, what brings you out of your hidey-hole? Washing that sorry excuse for armour again?¡±

    ¡°Yep! You take such loving care of it, Henri, so I can¡¯t rightfully leave it in anybody else¡¯s hands. You¡¯re practically a savant at cleaning shoddy armour at this point.¡±

    Their playful banter was the highlight of Rayleigh¡¯s routine. She had had a tough time befriending anyone after she came to the city with Alistair ¡ª women especially were wary of her ¡ª but Henrietta had cared for none of the stigma, and after her first armour-washing they had become fast friends. They didn¡¯t see each other as much as Reyleigh would have liked because the bathhouse was busy in the evening, and the Watch trained in the morning, but they tried to synchronise her leave and Henrietta¡¯s time off when they could. Usually, they met at least once a day, however, since armour washing was important.

    ¡°Speaking of shoddy armour, how is your training going? You¡¯ve been on the verge of qualifying for the exam for months now and you¡¯re practicing that Stampede skill or whatever it¡¯s called, right?¡±

    Henrietta relaxed back against the tree with her arms crossed as she studied Reyleigh¡¯s physique, like she could quantify her progress by muscle-mass or something.

    The tight-lipped grin grew on Reyleigh¡¯s face as she leaned forward and lowered her voice.

    ¡°Don¡¯t tell anyone ¨C it¡¯s not official yet ¨C but Alistair said he would recommend me for the next exam! I can¡¯t wait to pick my Class! It¡¯s probably just gonna be Soldier like the rest of the Watch, but the benefits of having one is incredible. Some of the skills Alistair uses are like magic.¡± Reyleigh¡¯s eyes sparkled, and she mimicked a bow drawing motion with her hands.

    ¡°And it¡¯s not a stampede ability, it¡¯s a Charge ability. It lets me move really fast and cut monsters in half with my greatsword. I can¡¯t wait to learn it! Harald says he heard that it¡¯s possible to learn it without a Class, but none of the recruits have been able to yet, ¡ª¡±

    Reyleigh gestured animatedly, while explaining the merits of the Charge skill and with a mischievous smile Henriette interrupted the soon to become rant.

    ¡°Yes, yes, the fierce half elven warrior princes talking about cutting people in half with her hammer as if it¡¯s nothing. You¡¯re becoming a little scary, you know that?¡±

    ¡°It¡¯s NOT a hammer! It¡¯s a GREATSWORD! Gah!¡±

    Reyleigh threw her hands up in mock outrage, before putting her palm on the sword-hilt that stuck out above her shoulder.

    ¡°Maybe I should show it to you,¡± she lifted an eyebrow at her friend, ¡°just so you don¡¯t forget?¡±

    A predatory smile filled with sharp teeth reflected in Henrietta¡¯s eyes. She gulped and looked away.

    ¡°No¡­ No Rey¡­¡±

    Reyleigh¡¯s eyes widened, and she hastily covered her mouth with her hand. The mood shift was instantaneous, and all the bluster went out of her. Slowly she removed her hand from the hilt of her sword while quickly donning a fake version of her usual thigh lipped smile. She had gone too far again. She knew she should never smile with her teeth showing, but she had let her guard down. Even Henrietta, with her easy-going attitude, couldn¡¯t hide her reaction.

    Dropping her armour-bag on the ground, she lowered her head and turned away.

    ¡°I¡¯ll come back for it tonight, ok?¡± she mumbled before turning on her heel and walking away, her usual bath forgotten in the haze of shame.

    ¡°Sorry! Rey, wait. I didn¡¯t mean it, it¡¯s just¡­¡± Henrietta stretched out her arm to stop Reyleigh, but it went limp halfway.

    ¡°It¡¯s fine Henri. I¡¯ll be back later.¡± Reyleigh whispered.

    With brisk steps, she walked away from the bathhouse and around the corner to the nearest alley. Leaning against the cold sandstone wall, she let out a shaking breath. Thankfully, Henrietta didn¡¯t follow her. She knew her friend didn¡¯t mean anything by it. She just couldn¡¯t help the reaction to her predatory visage. Alistair had told her that all humans instinctively reacted that way, even if they hadn¡¯t fought elves, so it couldn¡¯t be helped. However, it still hurt her whenever she faced it, especially from people she considered friends. On one hand, she loved her elven appearance as it reminded her of her heritage, but on the other¡ªmuch larger hand¡ªshe hated it for how lonely and shunned it made her feel.

    Two steady breaths later, she straightened her tunic and slapped her cheeks. She would forgive Henrietta. She always did. This wasn¡¯t the first time someone had let her down and it wouldn¡¯t be the last. At least she had the decency to look guilty while doing it.

    Leaving the alleyway, she walked northward. Her feet moving of their own accord.

    Not long after, she found herself on the way to her favourite tavern. She didn¡¯t know why she decided to make the trip. It was a long walk, but maybe that was what she needed. She enjoyed walking and watching the city, especially in the evening.

    Putting one foot in front of the other and focusing on the hustle and bustle of the city slowly calmed her down.

    Half an hour later, she neared the familiar two-story building. Looking up at the fa?ade, she shook her head at the ladies of the night waving from the second floor, then kept her head down as she walked toward the entrance. It wasn¡¯t her favourite tavern on account of the cheap beer or the seedy clientele, and especially not because of the scantily clad girls waving to prospective clients from the upper floor. No, it was because of the sweet dulcet tones swirling lazily from its open windows.

    Summer was over in Unbern, but that didn¡¯t mean that the hot weather had left with it. The arid climate made three of four seasons feel like living in an oven, while winter brought squalls down upon their heads. Now, the hot autumn sun baked the streets for most of the day, which made the bar take full advantage of its man-sized windows. The sweaty people inside appreciated what little comfort the resulting breeze provided and were sitting as close to the outside as possible.

    The sun setting over the horizon framed the building as she walked up the stairs to the open double doors and entered the bar. This tavern was pretty popular among the common folk and drinking patrons occupied most of the scant dozen tables, making merry while enjoying the music. The smell of fatty meat carried over to her as a waitress clad in a short skirt and blouse carried food past her. Looking at the food made Reyleigh¡¯s stomach rumble.

    Spying a free seat close to the entrance¡ªand the breeze¡ªshe made a beeline for it and sat down on one of the rickety chairs. The waitress who delivered the food to a table nearby noticed her and came over.

    ¡°What¡¯ll it be today, darlin, the same as last time?¡± she said.

    ¡°Yes, please, but only the mead today.¡± Reyleigh answered.

    Even though she was hungry, she resolved to save her cores, but she needed a break, and the staff wouldn¡¯t let her enjoy the music without spending something.

    The waitress nodded as she left to fill the order. Relaxing into her chair, Reyleigh looked over at the centrepiece stage and her eyes found what looked like a very hairy child playing a lute while sitting on a cracked stool. Red fur covered her entire form, from her feet to her snout, her arms, and her face. Fox-like ears, only slightly larger, adorned her head, and Reyleigh could catch glimpses of sharp sawtooth teeth when she twisted her lips in concentration. The bard¡¯s tongue was sticking out while her fingers danced across the lute strings.

    Reyleigh knew she was a fox beastkin, one of very few beastkin in the city, and the only fox-kin as far as Reyleigh knew. Even though she may look like a child ¨C or cub maybe ¨C she was clearly identifiable as an adult by the way she played the lute and her confident demeanour.

    Reyleigh didn¡¯t know much about the beastkin race, but according to the gossip, they had long lifespans upwards of two hundred years and not considered adults before their fifties. Sometimes she thought about speaking to the fox-kin bard, but her anxiety always kept her from trying. She did, however, use some of her hard-earned cores to come see the recently arrived bard whenever she performed.

    You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

    As the waitress sat a goblet of mead down on the table, Reyleigh handed her a copper core in return before she crossed her legs and leaned back to enjoy the performance. A few moments later, the bard raised her head from looking at her dancing fingers, closed her eyes, and softly raised her voice in song. Soothing notes from her plucking accompanied her dulcet voice as she sang in a mystical language from a faraway land. The words spilling from her mouth evoked feelings of safety and rightness within Reyleigh. Like a tapestry of pure sound, her inner mindscape was being taken for a beautiful ride, and it felt like the music was caressing her very soul. Slowly but surely, conversation died down as every eye locked on to the stage. Even the waitress stopped moving and stood rooted like a tree between two tables, with foaming tankards forgotten in both hands.

    Reyleigh strangely smelled the scent of flowers on a cool summer morning and heard a small brook babbling somewhere just out of sight. Her heart slowed its beat to an imperceptible tattoo and cosy calm washed over her. The vision in her mind ebbed and flowed through the song, and she could do nothing but let it drag her along, wishing it would never end.

    With the smallest change of tempo, the performance reached its crescendo, a long lilting note dragging on as the lute and voice melded together. Reyleigh¡¯s body started tingling. The note hanging in the air for what seemed like an eternity. Even though she knew what was coming, she was still startled when bumps and scrapes from training faded and her fatigue from the last few hours became but a memory.

    A single tear ran down her cheek when the last note wilted away.

    Perfect silence followed the performance before the whole tavern erupted into thunderous applause. The clapping went on for quite a long time before a man, until now unseen, clad in a black brimmed hat and leather duster, came around with a bucket in hand. Cores clinked as the patrons showered the bard with their appreciation. The man moved through the crowd and came to a stop before Reyleigh, with an expectant look in his hazel eyes. He had stubbled aftergrowth on his chin and a small smile on his lips. He rattled the bucket softly.

    ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Reyleigh said before she fished out one of her three last cores and added it to the bucket.

    ¡°Much appreciated, fair maiden. Even I¡¯m dumbstruck by my mistress¡¯ talents at times. Don¡¯t worry, you can catch the show tomorrow as well.¡±

    He gave her a sly wink as he flitted to the next table, already shaking his bucket at another set of dumbstruck patrons.

    Class abilities and spells never ceased to amaze Reyleigh, and the wide effects and incredible complexity shown by the fox-kin bard was certainly no exception. Bards were known for their wide area magic and continuous effects, but Unbern was a backwater, and such a skilled bard was rare, especially in a seedy tavern like this. The music soon started up again as the fox-kin continued strumming her lute. This time there was no magic suffusing the air¡ªto Reyleigh¡¯s disappointment¡ª but the music was still beautiful.

    Reyleigh sat nursing her mead for a couple of hours. Just appreciating the music and atmosphere. No one came to talk to her, and the staff knew her, so they didn¡¯t ask her if she wanted another drink.

    Slowly but surely, the music came to an end. The fox-kin left the stage to another thunderous wave of applause.

    After chugging the last of her mead, Reyleigh rose from her chair to join the leaving crowd but paused when the small fox started making her way towards her, her tail swaying lightly. Looking behind to see who or what the fox-kin was moving towards, she was met with the smooth sandstone of the wall, and she realised there was nowhere else for the magical lady to go but to her table. Turning back around, Reyleigh suddenly found the bard standing expectantly right in front of her.

    ¡°May I sit with you?¡± the fox-kin woman asked with an elegant flourish to an extra chair that had magically appeared at her small table.

    ¡°Uhh, shu.. sure!¡± Reyleigh responded. Too loudly.

    She was not used to people approaching her, and when they did, it was usually for all the wrong reasons and certainly not in a crowded place like this. The other patrons were looking curiously at them now, some with frowns on their faces, but no one dared intervene in the talented bard¡¯s business.

    ¡°Thank you ever so much, my dear. It has been a long evening and fine company will surely remedy my fatigue.¡±

    The woman winked at her and sat down, her tail waving lazily back and forth through a hole in the back of her chair.

    ¡°I would like to introduce myself; my name is Lir¡¯alana of the third of house Lir.¡± She gestured towards the man in the duster who had materialised behind her at some point, ¡°and this is my dear companion, John. He may look a little intimidating, but between us, he is just the sweetest.¡±

    Reyleigh¡¯s brain halted, and she couldn¡¯t do anything but nod. She looked around, imagining all the patrons hammering her with their disdain at her brazen interaction with the beloved bard.

    Lir¡¯alana sported a small smile as she waited for Reyleigh to reciprocate her introduction. A whole minute went by before realisation dawned on Reyleigh¡¯s face. Blushing furiously, she finally responded to the now grinning bard.

    ¡°My¡­ my name is Reyleigh. I¡¯m a recruit with the Watch my lady. I really enjoy your music¡­¡± Her blush intensified as she blurted out the crude compliment.

    ¡°My, what a darling sweetheart you are. It has been many a season since I received such a genuine compliment. I thank you for your words.¡±

    Her smile turned more genuine, and Lir¡¯alana¡¯s lips parted, flashing razor-sharp teeth. A small pang of envy surged within the Reyleigh as she saw the fox-kin unashamedly smile in a public place like this.

    Lir¡¯alana¡¯s frowned, and it was obvious she noticed the minute change of expression.

    ¡°Rey, my dear, may I call you Rey?¡± She didn¡¯t wait for a response before continuing. ¡°I have never met an elf in any of the city states before, but I have met them in their own lands and I must say, your beauty outshines them all. To mar such an enchanting visage by denying it a dazzling smile is surely a most grievous sin, and I must insist that you rectify it.¡±

    Leaning forward with her muzzle resting on both her hands, she looked up expectantly at the dumb-struck half-elf sitting opposite her.

    ¡°Um.. I don¡¯t think I can smile on command. And even if I could¡­¡± Reyleigh trailed off as she looked down. ¡°¡­I don¡¯t think the other people here would appreciate it.¡±

    The last set of curious patrons turned away before looking anywhere but at the two women. Eyes crinkled in a displeased frown, Lir¡¯alana let out a breath and leaned backward in her chair.

    ¡°So even I can¡¯t beguile you into gracing us with your enhanced beauty? A shame to be sure, but I guess it can¡¯t be helped. This backwater is nothing if not prejudiced after all. I really hope you can get over this place, my dear Rey. The world is much bigger than this human cesspit, you know, and many places would welcome you with arms opened wide. Some of them might even worship you.¡±

    Reyleigh stared with wide eyes.

    Is that true? Some of them would worship me?

    She couldn¡¯t imagine such a place. And she certainly didn¡¯t want to be worshipped. Welcomed with open arms maybe, but nothing more. Realising she had been sitting in silence for too long again, Reyleigh blushed, and tried furiously to come up with something to say, but her muddled brain wouldn¡¯t function. She lost her chance when the fox-kin¡¯s smile turned a little sad and she rose from her chair.

    ¡°I regret that this conversation is over. I will see myself to my room now. John, if you would be so kind?¡±

    The fox-kin jumped lithely from her chair and John swept her into his muscular arms. Reyleigh openly stared when the tall man carried his charge up the stairs and disappeared. Sitting in shock for a couple of seconds¡ªforgetting the attention from the equally dumbstruck patrons¡ªshe finally shook her head and practically fled from the tavern.

    Walking through the mostly deserted city streets and letting the evening air accompanying the encroaching darkness soothe her frayed nerves, she thought back to the strange encounter.

    Why did she come up to me? Didn¡¯t she realise how that looks? She clearly mentioned that she saw Unbern as a backwater, so that can¡¯t be it. She met other elves in their own country, too. Does that mean that not all of them are savages? Could I go there, or would they shun me?

    ¡°Whatever happens, I have to repay Alistair and protect Unbern. Maybe I¡¯ll talk to Lir¡¯alana again later, just to hear more about everything¡­¡±

    Her thoughts circled in her head. The story describing a place so different from Unbern enticing and frightening to her at the same time. She continued muttering to herself for a long time while walking, but soon realised she was spinning in circles.

    She shook her head.

    ¡°Forget it. It¡¯s late and I need to pick up my laundry.¡±

    Reyleigh started making her way back to the bathhouse. Her thoughts slowly calmed by the night breeze. One might think that the bathhouse would be closed after sunset, but the city never really slept, and it had no shortage of customers, catering to the soldiers and watchmen returning from expeditions, patrons from the various nightlife activities or just night-time wanderers like herself. High-level people needed less sleep too, and many businesses catered to their needs. Unbern didn¡¯t have many such individuals, but there were enough for a few places to profit from their business.

    Walking along the now quiet city, the moon was hanging low in the sky and the long shadows from the buildings created a chequered outline that she flickered in and out of like she was in a dance between darkness and light.

    The merchant district she was walking through wasn¡¯t poor by any stretch of the imagination, but this part¡ªthe one she frequented¡ªwas nowhere near as affluent as the sections nearer the residential district, not to mention the centre of the city itself where the keep and temples were located. She almost never had any occasion to visit the central district and had only gone there a few times to receive healing in the temples after some nasty cuts from training. The poultices and bandages helped, but she still mourned the disappearance of divine healing magic. The Fall had changed many things, but that single loss had been the most devastating.

    Musing as she walked, she imagined wounds closing in a matter of seconds, regrowing limbs, curing diseases with a wave of a hand, and even reversing death. She knew that those unimaginable feats of magic had been within the power of the Clerics and Paladins before The Fall. Now, however, they had to rely on natural remedies and careful study. There were still magical means capable of such feats, chief among them potions, which the temple in Unbern had a rumoured stock of, but such imported healing alchemical marvels were not for a lowly watchman like her.

    Some Classes could heal scrapes and bruises and even gashes or mental fatigue, but they were few and far between, and would certainly not be catering to the common folk. The fox-kin travelling bard was a rare exception, but her effectiveness, while wide, was underwhelming in the grand scheme of things. The ability to heal oneself was more common but still scarce and only available for higher leveled adventurers, elite soldiers, or specialised mages. In the end, potions were cheaper and easier to get a hold of, but still severely out of reach for the common man.

    Reaching the bathhouse, Reyleigh knocked on the now shuttered gate and waited. A couple of seconds went by before a familiar pair of green eyes appeared in the small security slit carved into the upper part of the gate.

    ¡°Rey! Thank the Fallen. You¡¯re back!¡±

    Henrietta opened the door in a rush before throwing herself around Reyleigh¡¯s neck.

    ¡°I¡¯m so sorry Rey. I didn¡¯t mean it and I¡¯ll do better, don¡¯t hate me. Oh, please don¡¯t hate me.¡±

    With soft sobs ending her rushed speech, Henrietta was clearly hurting after what happened earlier. Relieved, Reyleigh couldn¡¯t help but smile a full smile ¡ª over Henrietta¡¯s shoulder ¡ª as she returned the hug.

    ¡°It¡¯s ok Henry. I¡¯m sorry I left, it¡¯s just¡­ It¡¯s just hard for me. You know that.¡±

    Pushing Henrietta slowly back by her shoulders, Reyleigh looked at her friend. Red hair was sticking to her cheeks, and she was staring at the ground, shuffling her feet. They stood like that for a few seconds before Henrietta looked up, straight into Reyleigh¡¯s eyes.

    ¡°I know, of course I know. I hope you can smile around me someday. But I understand if it takes time¡­ But I won¡¯t give up!¡± By the end, Henrietta smiled and pointed at the sky in one of her signature poses.

    ¡°You¡¯re such a dork, Henry, striking poses like that.¡± Reyleigh shook her head while laughing. ¡°Where is my wash? I hope you at least serviced it while I was out drinking away my sorrows?¡±

    Henrietta looked at Rayleigh¡¯s eyes for a moment to discern if she was joking or not, and when she identified the glint of amusement in her eyes, she smiled wide and replied.

    ¡°Of course I did. I slaved away washing it, you know! It¡¯s so shiny you can use it as a mirror. Thinking about it now, I should probably sell it to the palace instead. Who knows, I might get rich?¡±

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare sell my armour! I love that thing. It¡¯s the only reason Alistair¡¯s hellish training hasn¡¯t killed me.¡±

    The usual banter was back, and the two women walked past the pool into the washing room, firing jokes and veiled insults at each other. After a couple of minutes of talking, Henrietta pushed a fresh laundry bag containing her armour into Reyleigh¡¯s arms and muttered something about the new bag being a gift with a peevish blush. A good kind of warmth filled Reyleigh as she paid with her second to last core and left the bathhouse.

    A brisk walk through the city led her back into the barracks. It was getting late and most of the other members of the Watch were sleeping in their bunks. After an eventful day, Reyleigh could feel her body flagging and she stumbled into bed, almost forgetting to take off her clothes before she was out like a light.

 Chapter 4 - Taboo

    The next morning, Reyleigh was still giddy with the thought of finally being picked for the exam. Distracted, she fumbled a few simple moves during the morning spar, resulting in a tirade from one of the officers. Alistair was nowhere to be found. That wasn¡¯t unusual. He had disappeared for long periods of time for as long as she had known him. Even in the early days, after he had found her, he left her alone without any explanation. At first, she felt abandoned, but after a while she got used to it, and now, she didn¡¯t think too much of it. High-level people were eccentric by nature, and Alistair even more so than most. The watch and the city took his absences in stride and so would she.

    Reyleigh breathed a sigh of relief while drying her sweat on a small towel she had brought. She ended up using twice the usual energy for the exercises. The officer on duty¡ªshe vaguely remembered his name was Maren¡ªhad ridden her hard because of multiple slip ups. The exam rattled inside her head and her thoughts spun in circles.

    Would Themis actually be there? What would they face? Would it be dangerous? Would they die?

    A thousand questions and no answers.

    She felt thankful that there were lessons scheduled for the remainder of the day. As far as she knew, they would be about taboo classes, which was actually pretty exciting for once. Usually, the grey-haired Mr Smythe focused his lessons on the laws and regulations in and around Unbern. The free city governed itself, and as such, had a plethora of strange and inconsistent laws. Reyleigh silently suspected that the rogue nature of the city and the clouded circumstances of its founding had led to laws filled with loopholes and incongruences by design.

    Done with her towel, she looped it through a ring on her belt and followed her fellow recruits into the indoctrination house ¨C as some of them called it. The building was less a house and more of a barn if she was being honest, but for some reason the name had stuck, and even the lecturers referred to it by its nickname. The large airy structure was located on the west side of the Watches¡¯ grounds and housed eight rows of wooden pews accessed by a set of double barn doors front and back. When she entered, she saw the familiar small podium in the middle of the room, with half of the pews on either side of it. Today¡¯s lecturer, Mr Smythe, sat on a chair in the centre of said podium, his bulbous nose deep in his latest book.

    Probably some lawbook again. Reyleigh thought.

    She had asked him what book he was reading once and had learned a painful lesson about what happens when you ask questions you really don¡¯t want the answer to. It had had taken her over twenty minutes to escape the tirade.

    Taking her usual seat in one of the middle pews, she saw Owen enter and waved at him. Harald lumbered up behind him and waved back before both of them wandered over.

    ¡°I¡¯m actually looking forward to this one.¡± Owen said.

    ¡°One of the new recruits had the gall to ask him about the Necromantic Plague last week and, for once, he actually answered. From what I hear, he told the recruit to attend today if he wanted to learn more¡­¡± He swivelled his head around, trying to find the unnamed genius without success.

    Both of the men sat down next to Reyleigh on either side.

    ¡°You sure? We¡¯ve tried everything to get him to spill the beans about what happened. Why would he suddenly agree now?¡± Reyleigh answered.

    The Necromantic Plague was a dark chapter in the history of Unbern and the few people who knew anything about it kept the knowledge under wraps. Everyone in the city knew that it almost wiped Unbern off the map two hundred years ago, give or take a decade or two, and that it involved an exceedingly powerful Necromancer. Aside from that, nobody ever talked about it, and if someone asked too many questions, they were brushed aside with the excuse that ¡°taboo classes are taboo for a reason¡±.

    Even children knew the names of the most known taboo classes and what they were. However, it was the specifics that were considered too dangerous to talk about. Reyleigh had pestered Alistair about taboo Classes forever, but only eked out the same information as everybody else; Blood Mages, Death Mages, Necromancers, Witches and Soul Controllers, those were the ones who destroyed cities and burned their very soul to dust in the process. Exactly why they were taboo in the first place or why they were said to affect the soul of those who chose them remained a mystery.

    Before Reyleigh could get an answer to her question, Mr Smythe stood up and all the recruits ¡ª who filled the pews till bursting, with some even standing by the walls ¡ª went silent.

    ¡°Well, well, well¡­¡±

    He paused to look out at all the eager faces.

    ¡°I guess word of today¡¯s topic has gotten out. No matter. It¡¯s prudent that you know, and my knowledge is getting staler by the day.¡±

    The old man paused and flicked his long robe to the side as he paced the podium. He looked like he was in his late seventies, with a long grey beard that reached all the way to his chest and calm eyes ringed by splotched greying skin. He had lectured them extensively through the years but had kept a clear distance between himself and his pupils, so they didn¡¯t really know much about him.

    ¡°It was the year 816 of the Godless Age, 216 years past. Unbern was much the same as the city you see before you today, a bustling congregation of humanity on the edge of civilization, a gateway into the wilderness and into our two dungeons.¡±

    Mr Smythe paused, revelling in the recruit¡¯s rapt attention. However, Reyleigh noticed that behind his smug fa?ade his eyes reflected suppressed, hidden pain.

    Why would this affect him so much? His parents weren¡¯t even born when this happened.

    Reyleigh¡¯s musings came to a quick halt when the old man collected himself and continued.

    ¡°The days went by quietly. Heroes and adventurers rose and fell, and the council kept our fair city safe and thriving.¡±

    Reyleigh snorted at the word fair to describe Unbern ¨C and wasn¡¯t the only one. Mr Smythe ignored them.

    ¡°The citizens took for granted that this peace and prosperity would last forever, and spared not a thought to the evil that would soon consume them. It started so innocuously; a baby died of a tragic illness, a father buried his son from a high fever, a granddaughter cried as her oldest living family member succumbed to fatigue. The tragedies kept multiplying until it was clear to the council and the army that something was not as it should be. Too many were falling ill and too few recovered. Suddenly, reports of murder rose exponentially. People were killed in their sleep or outright attacked. The unlucky few who couldn¡¯t stay inside scurried from one place to the next, too afraid of their own neighbours to linger.¡±

    You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.

    The large space was deathly quiet, and the recruits held their breath as the old man continued.

    ¡°A few adventures finally took matters into their own hands and uncovered the grim truth; the murders were being committed by the undead. The assailants were dressed in the clothes they died in ¨C clearly of Unbernian make ¨C and could not be differentiated from the average citizen. For do not be fooled! The stories of shambling undead are just that, stories to frighten children, a real Necromancer can create zombies so lifelike that they can even talk as they did in life.¡±

    A few murmurs rippled through the crowd. Information like this wasn¡¯t commonplace, and the gears in Reyleigh¡¯s brain worked furiously to catalogue it all. Not only was it interesting and almost addictive in its forbidden nature, but it was also knowledge that might save her life one day. Taboo Classes seldom affected Unbern, but they were not unheard of and seeing the signs could be vital.

    ¡°The council hired the adventurers to investigate. With all the powers of the rulers of Unbern behind them, they soon uncovered a shocking fact: almost half the city had already succumbed and had become the walking dead! Just as the revelation crashed through the citizenry, the host attacked.¡±

    Mr Smythe¡¯s voice trembled slightly before he cleared his throat and continued.

    ¡°In a shocking turn of events, the Necromancer revealed himself and brandished a hereto unknown and most heinous brand of magic. I will not repeat even its description here, as it befouls the very mind of those who hear of it, but rest assured that it was both terrible in its power and cowardly in its design. In a panic by the sheer devastation his magic caused, the adventurers and the council survived by using ancient artifacts they looted from within the city vault.¡±

    He paused for a moment to catch his breath, and let the gravity of his words sink in.

    ¡°After weathering the storm, they launch a counteroffensive. One hundred days and nights they fought until the only living who remained alive were the very best and highest leveled of them all¡ªaside from the foul Necromancer. The future was bleak, but the few elites held fast and banded together in their time of despair. With everything to lose, they assembled a singular team that set out on the impossible task of killing the necromancer once and for all. The powers of the taboo Classes impossible to fathom for those who have not seen it themselves, but they are also a two-edged sword. To reach for power over death like a Necromancer, you must delve into matters so vile that your very soul becomes tainted, and so the Necromancer had lost his sanity. Through manipulation and desperate sacrifice, the party narrowly clutched a pyrrhic victory and sent his soul to the everlasting realm of death.¡±

    A silence so deep you could cut it with a knife smothered the hall. More recruits and several full Watchmen had snuck in while the story echoed around the chamber, and every last one of them stood enraptured. Mr Smythe had never shown this brand of incredible storytelling before, and Reyleigh was somehow sure she would never see it again.

    The silence stretched on as Mr Smythe looked at the floor. Reyleigh doubted if he would say anything. Just as she was about to look away, he finally spoke.

    ¡°You might wonder why I recount this story today. A tale which I have not retold for several decades. Some might claim that I have turned to nostalgia or weakness in my later years, but the truth is that I have become convinced that this retelling will be what gives you the tools to fight evil. The powers that be are afraid you will emulate it, but for the coming trials, the knowledge is vital.¡±

    The old man looked like age was pressing down upon him in that moment, and a weary sigh escaped his lips. Just as he was about to leave the stage, he stopped himself and continued.

    ¡°To not learn from history is the greatest sin of the young, and I fervently hope that you keep this story close. If you are ever tempted to go down the path of the taboo, remember the fate of the Necromancer and the suffering that was caused by his Necromantic Plague.¡±

    With a look of content resignation and those last words, he bowed his head in a gesture of respect and slowly shuffled off stage.

    Reyleigh almost felt surprised when she didn¡¯t see anyone waiting for him at the podium¡¯s base. The entire story had seemed like a final defiant act of some sort, but it seemed to be just her imagination.

    Ripping her gaze away from the form of Mr Smythe, she looked at Owen and then towards Harald. Now that the lesson was over, she couldn¡¯t help but be a little disappointed.

    ¡°Did he actually reveal anything controversial? He gave almost no details at all! How did the plague even start? How did the Necromancer control and raise thousands of undead? What powers defeated him? Gods damn it, he didn¡¯t even tell us the names of the heroes!¡± Reyleigh spoke at the same time as everyone else.

    ¡°Yeah. I knew it was gonna be like this! Every time they talk about anything taboo, they hide almost all of it. No details at all! I know they¡¯re trying to protect us, but how the fuck are we gonna protect the city from things like this if they won¡¯t tell us how it all works?¡± Owen replied with gusto.

    Harald stood up and silenced both of them with a stare before they could begin a tirade.

    ¡°Let it go, you two. We got a lot of information today, far more than what these lectures usually contain, and taboo classes are taboo for a reason. Even Mr Smythe hinted at the fact that he was breaking some unspoken rules today. If he deems the knowledge too dangerous, I¡¯m sure it¡¯s well thought out.¡±

    His calm presence took the wind out of both their sails and they reluctantly nodded along.

    ¡°Anyway, I¡¯m sure now that he¡¯s talked about Necromancers, we might hear about Blood Mages and Death Mages too. Unbern has a long history, and both those Classes must have sown havoc over the years. My father always talked about the Blood Mage battle he fought when he was still a Watchman.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess we can¡¯t look a gift horse in the mouth. It¡¯s just so damn frustrating.¡± Owen said.

    He rose from his seat and started walking out, following the crowd. Reyleigh followed.

    They walked a few steps before Owen spoke again, a stubborn look in his eyes.

    ¡°Blood Mages boil your blood, Witches turn you into a frog, and death mages rot you from the inside out.¡±

    Owen mimicked being an old man, repeating the lines they had all heard as children.

    ¡°It¡¯s just so vague! You heard what he said about zombies; I had no idea they could talk if a Necromancer was skilled enough. That¡¯s freaking terrifying!¡±

    Reyleigh had to agree with Owen. The Watch gave information freely, and they learned a great deal, but it always seemed to stop just as they were getting somewhere interesting. It was clear they held back the important parts by design.

    Like Mr Smythe said: they¡¯re afraid we¡¯ll emulate them, but who would do something so vile?

    Reyleigh played through several scenarios within her own mind but couldn¡¯t really see herself picking a Class like that. For one, it would be a death sentence, and two, it would ruin her life if she somehow managed to live through it.

    Is power so tempting as to sacrifice everything like that?

    Before she could find an answer to her question, Owen and Harald started arguing, throwing her thoughts to the wind. After a while, she joined in and the three of them argued about what they should be able to learn all the way back to the barracks. When they arrived, the theories had grown from speculation into full-blown conspiracies. Owen lightened the mood by acting out the most sinister plots, but Reyleigh couldn¡¯t keep from contemplating if there wasn¡¯t a kernel of truth somewhere in the outlandish theories.

    Retiring for the night and lying in her bunk bed, she thought about what manner of things were out there. There was an unending number of Classes capable of the incredible feats, unlimited levels to be gained, and mythic monsters and beasts around every corner. She was starting to realise how little she actually knew of the world, or even Unbern for that matter, and she didn¡¯t like it.

 Chapter 5 - Preperations

    Reyleigh was in the middle of a spar with Owen. It had been a couple of days since the lecture and her anxiousness about the upcoming exam was worsening her already fraying her nerves. Alistair was still gone, and the recruits felt the absence of their hero-captain keenly. His presence made every move important and every failure dire. With only the sergeants, the training field felt empty and boring.

    Some might think that Alistair being such a central part in training all the new recruits ¨C even though he was the de facto leader of the Watch ¨C was strange, but it had been that way for so long that the Watch was relying on it by this point. Even though they relied on him, they didn¡¯t question his disappearances, chalking them up to his powerful, mysterious ways. Come to think of it, Reyleigh had never heard Alistair talk about where he went or what he did. She supposed she had never asked.

    The Watch was structured in a military fashion with sergeants leading squads, captains leading sergeants, and the general leading the Watch. No one knew much about the current general. Reyleigh had heard his name was Devon, since Alistair had mentioned him a few times in passing, but she had never seen the man nor heard him speak. Alistair was officially a captain, but since he could raze most of the city single-handedly, even the general listened attentively when he spoke.

    Flicking her wrist to deflect the long dagger coming at her abdomen, she miscalculated and grimaced as the blunted weapon hit her side. Her daydreaming cost her dearly, as Owen kept the momentum and landed a second blow to her shoulder. Cursing herself and forcing her thoughts back into the flow of combat, she leaned back slightly to let a third stab glance off of her armour. The sudden movement made Owen over-correct, which in turn forced him off balance. Reyleigh reacted on instinct and reversed her grip on her sword before slamming it into the side of his head. With the thump of steel hitting flesh, she realised too late that she had put her full force into the blow and Owen crumpled like a doll whose strings had been cut. With a yelp, she dropped to his side.

    ¡°Shit. Owen!¡± she shouted.

    His eyes rolled up into his skull, and his mouth hung ajar. Tossing her helmet to the side, she shook him, tears blurring her vision. Suddenly, a mailed hand gripped her shoulder forcefully and shoved her to the side.

    ¡°Don¡¯t panic, recruit! That helps no one. You!¡±

    The sergeant who had grabbed her pointed at a random recruit standing slack jawed behind Reyleigh.

    ¡°Hold her and don¡¯t let her interfere.¡±

    Uncorking his waterskin, the sergeant bent down and held Owen up before splashing its contents in his face. A second passed, then another, before Owen started gasping and sputtering. The Sargent leaned down and hit his back a few times.

    ¡°There you go, right as rain.¡± He paused before looking at Reyleigh.

    ¡°Recruit Reyleigh.¡± he said solemnly. ¡°Please don¡¯t kill your fellow recruits. It looks bad, and it¡¯s quite unnecessary.¡± He smiled a little stiffly, obviously trying to put her at ease.

    ¡°Your training¡¯s been paying off, but with more attributes comes more strength and speed. The higher your attributes, the more every lapse in concentration is paid for double in combat. You¡¯re lucky it wasn¡¯t worse this time.¡±

    He stood and turned to the other recruits, who had formed a circle around Owen. ¡°This goes for you lot as well. Even now, without a Class, you rise in power and gain strength. If you don¡¯t respect it, it will lead you to tragedy.¡±

    ¡°Anyway.¡± He paused. ¡°Training¡¯s over. Dismissed!¡±

    Reyleigh ran over to Owen as soon as the recruit holding her let her go.

    ¡°Are you okay? I¡¯m sorry Owen, I wasn¡¯t paying attention¡­¡±

    Reyleigh hung her head as she tried to get the dust off of Owen¡¯s armour by slapping it repeatedly. Owen caught her flailing hands and looked at her.

    ¡°It¡¯s ok Rey, I know you didn¡¯t mean it.¡±

    Awkwardly scratching his cheek, he smiled back at her a little unsteadily.

    ¡°I knew you were close to a breakthrough, but damn, you¡¯re really strong now. You must be close to reaching the limit of unclassed attributes if you¡¯re not already at the top.¡±

    Owen held a hand to his head, but still motioned for Reyleigh to help him up.

    ¡°I need to catch up to you anyway, but please don¡¯t hit me like that again. I¡¯m not sure my head can take it.¡±

    He laughed, but Reyleigh didn¡¯t join in, still a little too shaken.

    ¡°I promise I won¡¯t¡­ Here, lean on me, I¡¯ll get you back to the barracks.¡±

    Reyleigh supported Owens¡¯ weight easily on her shoulder.

    I really have become strong. She thought. I¡¯ll have to be a lot more careful¡­

    The two of them hobbled off the field and joined up with Harald, who was hovering at the edge of the field, trying to not look worried. He was a little worried at first, but loosened up when he saw that his friend was fine. Soon he was making jokes about Owen¡¯s thick head and Reyleigh¡¯s hard pommel all the way back to the barracks. When they finally entered the sweltering building, things were almost back to normal if you discount the large welt on the side of Owen¡¯s head.

    Rayleigh dropped Owen on his bunk and started fussing over him, but looked up sharply when a familiar voice ripped her from her ministrations.

    ¡°Listen up!¡±

    Alistair was sitting on the top bunk in the middle of the room. He swung himself down while talking and came striding towards the recruits, who were still funnelling in.

    ¡°The exams are coming up and we have one group this time.¡±

    He held up a single finger, and the recruits started murmuring immediately amongst themselves. Only one group at a time were usually picked for examination, so that wasn¡¯t unusual. There was precedent for two, but it had been a couple of years since the last time.

    ¡°Since you obviously impressed someone¡ªGods know it wasn¡¯t me¡ªI get the pleasure of hauling your sorry asses into a newly discovered dungeon.¡±

    The murmuring immediately stopped and turned to shocked silence.

    Dungeons were a familiar part of daily life after The Fall. Some said that the Gods summoned the dungeons during The Fall to help the struggling mortals after they disappeared, others claimed that some evil god had spawned them to bring about the realms¡¯ downfall. The general population didn¡¯t know much about dungeons, but everyone agreed they had appeared at the same time as the gods fell over a thousand years ago.

    Reyleigh wasn¡¯t really religious. It was hard to be when all the Gods were officially dead, but she still lamented the loss with everyone else. Mostly because divine healing magic had disappeared when all the paladins and clerics lost their powers. Civilization had taken a massive hit as well and society had regressed both technologically and socially as calamities rent the earth asunder, moved mountains and drained seas. The world became more dangerous, especially when dungeon monsters started roaming the wilderness, cutting off cities and towns and even countries from each other.

    Some might wonder how new dungeons could spawn when the dungeons hailed from before The Fall, but as far as Reyleigh knew, no one knew the answer. Not for lack of trying. The Watch¡¯s lessons had said that there had been great mages and scholars at the peaks of power who ventured forth to find the cause of the dungeons and try to unlock their mysteries, but eventually they all gave up or disappeared, no matter how powerful.

    This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author''s work.

    Finding a new dungeon now, especially around a large city, was unheard of. They could and would spawn, but usually in the wild areas, where powerful dungeon monsters battled each other without regard for the mortal races. Finding one within reach of civilization could be a massive boon to Unbern, or a catastrophic threat. Seeing as they were sending a team of recruits into it, it was probably the former.

    ¡°Where is it?¡± a deep woman¡¯s voice asked the question.

    Two recruits stepped out of the way and revealed a small woman with short brown hair and olive skin. Freckles adorned her face and arms, and she looked like she had lived most of her life outdoors. She had a silent beauty to her, which was easily missed but impossible to ignore once noticed.

    Reyleigh knew the recruit¡¯s name was Purity. She almost never talked, and Reyleigh had only ever heard her say a couple of sentences. She was not in the same group as Reyleigh, but they had sparred together a time or two. Reyleigh couldn¡¯t remember who won.

    ¡°It¡¯s past the Northern Forest, into the plains, and manifests as a door inside a gigantic lone tree. Its domain seems to be nature, and preliminary reports indicate low leveled monsters.¡± Alistair stood with his arms crossed and a small smile on his lips as he answered, the amusement at the bewildered state of the recruits evident on his face.

    ¡°This seems dangerous. Why are we going?¡±

    Purity spoke again with clipped sentences, and the crowd hushed as they waited anxiously for Alistair¡¯s answer. He was appraising the small woman before his smile widened.

    ¡°You¡¯re expendable,¡± Alistair answered, throwing his arms wide, ¡°and the higher ups want to explore while risking as little as possible. You will scout while I kill whatever you can¡¯t handle. It¡¯s dangerous, yes, but not much more than one of the known dungeons. This one is low leveled after all.¡±

    A gasp of awe rippled through the crowd.

    A low leveled dungeon was one that had relatively easy monsters suitable for similarly low leveled delvers. It might contain higher leveled monsters deeper inside, but on an exam, they would never go farther than a couple of areas past the entrance. As far as Reyleigh knew, all dungeons were different. Some were low leveled all the way through, others just had a single high leveled monster, and some were riddled with godlike beings. There was only one universal truth about dungeons and that was that you had to be prepared for anything.

    The reason for the powerful reaction to the news was that the two other dungeons near Unbern were both filled with medium leveled creatures in the first areas with massively dangerous monsters spawning in high numbers deeper inside. As such, they were really only suitable parties above level ten, but since the Watch had culled some areas, designated places were manageable for examination candidates. Fatal injuries were common, and only seventy percent of those who underwent the examination survived. It was a harsh reality that all the recruits faced every day; they were tasked with guarding the city, and that meant laying their lives on the line.

    Alistair waited for more questions, and when none were forthcoming, he read off the names of the examinees from a small piece of paper he materialised from somewhere.

    ¡°The lucky candidates this time around are as follows: Purity, Owen, Harald, Themis,¡± Alistair shot her a quick look, ¡°and Reyleigh.¡±

    She expected her name to be read, but Reyleigh¡¯s heart still fluttered. Thankfully, she was going with Harald and Owen as well as Purity. Two of whom were her friends and one who seemed reliable, even if she was a little weird. The last remaining addition didn¡¯t come as a surprise either, but it still put a sneer on Reyleigh¡¯s face. While she was busy lamenting her fate, she could see him jostling with his friends, some of them smirking her way.

    ¡°Be ready by first light tomorrow. You know what to bring.¡± Alistair paused before continuing. ¡°If you have questions, I¡¯m available for the next fifteen minutes in the sergeant¡¯s barracks. After that, it¡¯s all up to you.¡±

    Alistair made his way out past the dumbfounded recruits, who unconsciously parted like water. A slight scraping noise from the door closing was all it took before everyone started talking at once.

    ¡°Do you think they¡¯ll find treasure?¡± Someone yelled. Another was punching Harald¡¯s shoulder, while Owen was fist-pumping air. The ones not picked for the exams were milling about, asking questions with wide-eyed excitement, masking a healthy amount of trepidation. Losing someone to an exam was commonplace, and never an easy experience.

    Reyleigh was watching the chaos before she shook herself and started packing her bags. Her hands worked at their own accord while she thought about the exam expedition. A dungeon was a national undertaking, especially a low leveled one, since it could be used to train and provision a whole nation if it was the right Domain. The Domain of this one was reportedly nature, which meant it had the potential to become a goldmine. The two other dungeons around Unbern had Domains inhospitable to humans and were hard on anyone who delved them. One was of the fire Domain while the other was darkness, the former filled with lakes of lava and endless streams of fire-immune monsters, while the latter was shrouded in permanent magical darkness where creatures with too many teeth created traps and ambushes with their unnatural cunning.

    A nature dungeon would presumably contain creatures native to its Domain which meant beasts, nature elementals, fey and other creatures closely tied to nature. Which would mean skins, meat, and magical materials in abundance.

    Why aren¡¯t they marching in the army to secure it? She thought.

    Alistair had always been critical of the council, and this seemed to Reyleigh as the latest in a string of inexplicable decisions. She guessed Alistair had a large amount of influence, and from the way he outlined the expedition, it looked to her like he didn¡¯t agree to send the recruits. If he had voiced his objections and lost, some powerful forces seemed intent on them going.

    Shaking her head, she stopped her train of thought before it led her too far astray. Questioning orders would get her nowhere. She was joining the Watch and protecting everyone like Alistair wanted her to. Nothing else mattered.

    Looking down, she realised she had already packed her bags. They lay neatly tied together, with her bedroll fastened to the side. The temperature was usually pretty high around Unbern with its dry and arid climate, so on expeditions they usually only put up shelter when the winds grew too powerful, or the annual rains swept in. The rains weren¡¯t due for another few months, so she reckoned the bedroll would be enough. She had also packed the required three weeks of provisions, consisting mostly of dried meats and fruits, with a sprinkling of cheap cheese and hard bread. She hoped they would encounter some wildlife or monsters on the way to supplement their diet.

    ¡°Hey Rey?¡± Owen meandered over to her and tapped her shoulder.

    The kerfuffle in the barracks quieted down, and an intense atmosphere replaced it. The examinees were packing while the others talked quietly amongst themselves or encouraged their friends.

    Reyleigh turned around and saw that he had a rare serious air about him. ¡°This all seems a little weird, don¡¯t you think?¡±

    He paused and looked around the room, making sure that no one was listening to them.

    ¡°Why the hell are they sending us? We have no business being anywhere near a new dungeon like this, and Alistair¡¯s explanation doesn¡¯t make sense. I can see the bigwigs thinking we¡¯re expendable compared to the rest of the Watch or even the army, but couldn¡¯t they just send adventurers or mercenaries instead? Doing that would be much cheaper than training new recruits and they¡¯d be more competent too?¡±

    Reyleigh cupped her chin. Owen seldom asked questions like this and him doing so now gave her pause.

    ¡°I honestly don¡¯t know, Owen¡­ I joined the Watch to become stronger and protect everybody. Beyond that, I just follow orders like everybody else. Alistair says we go, so we go. Right?¡±

    ¡°Yeah, I guess. This just seems so weird. I can¡¯t help but think there¡¯s something going on. The councils never been fond of Alistair putting you in the Watch and suddenly, when your exam is due, they do something like this. It can¡¯t be a coincidence, right?¡±

    Reyleigh looked at him sceptically.

    ¡°I think you¡¯re reading too much into this. It¡¯s not like I¡¯ve been discriminated against here. Things like that are much worse outside the Watch¡¯s grounds. Why would the Watch suddenly start doing stuff like that now, when they¡¯ve had a decade to get rid of me? Theres been exercises outside the walls, guard duty, and lots of other dangerous stuff. If they wanted to do something, they didn¡¯t have to wait for a new dungeon to appear to make their move. To be honest, I also don¡¯t think I¡¯m that important.¡±

    Owen frowned and looked at his feet. ¡°Yeah,¡± he said thoughtfully. ¡°I guess you¡¯re right. But something is making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end, Rey, and I don¡¯t fucking like it.¡±

    ¡°Yeah. I¡¯m not saying this isn¡¯t all kinds of weird, Owen. It¡¯s just that we can¡¯t jump to conclusions, and if we look at it logically, we don¡¯t really have a choice in the matter, anyway. The last thing I want to do is disobey a direct order.¡±

    Owen started at her mention of disobeying orders. They both knew what happened to those who refused to do as they were told, and it was not pretty.

    ¡°No!¡± he waved his hands in front of him. ¡°Of course I¡¯m gonna do it! All I¡¯m saying is that we should be careful¡­¡± His words tapered off, and he looked around nervously.

    Clearly Reyleigh¡¯s insinuation about rejecting orders had rattled him and he mumbled something about packing before scurrying off. Reyleigh felt a little bad about bringing it up but couldn¡¯t help herself. She was going to make Alistair proud, and if that involved going into this dungeon and completing the exam in this weird manner, then nothing else mattered.

    Turning back to her half-finished pack, she busied herself with adding her last remaining items, including her waterskin and her pendant. She never went outside the city without it. Securing the silver chain to one of the straps and putting it in a side pocket, she breathed out slowly. Her heart was being a little faster in anticipation and, frankly, she couldn¡¯t wait. In a few days¡¯ time she would become a true watchman and unlock her Class.

 Chapter 6 - Northward

    The following morning went past in a blur before Reyleigh found herself standing outside the city gates. She had met up with Purity, Harald and Owen and was talking amicably with them. At the same time, she was side eying Themis¡¯ back. The man was insufferable and had already mocked her race two times, almost come to blows with Harald, and even the stoic Purity was forced to flick away a roaming hand. Reyleigh really hoped he wouldn¡¯t jeopardise the exam. This was not the time to cause idiotic distractions or pit people against each other.

    While she was stink-eyeing Themis, Alistair appeared.

    ¡°It¡¯s time,¡± he said, not one to mince words.

    ¡°We are ¨C as you probably have guessed ¨C going north. Some of you may have traversed the northern forest before, but don¡¯t think that your experience will save you from its dangers. Monsters, venomous insects, rot and despair await you. I will be watching from afar, but will not intervene unless you¡¯re about to die.¡±

    He paused to look into the eyes of each of them, one by one.

    ¡°Few die on the way to the dungeon during an exam, but it has happened.¡± A small smile made his eyes sparkle.

    Reyleigh smiled as well. She recognised the last warning for what it was; a misguided attempt at humour. She had confronted him multiple times about his sadistic humorous quirks, but she had given up trying to change him. This wasn¡¯t the first time he had said things like this with a smile, and it probably wouldn¡¯t be the last.

    Shaking her head, she looked at the others. Purity looked like she had swallowed something vile and held her stomach. Harald and Owen were a shade paler, and even Themis shook slightly. Being told by a man with unfathomable power that you might die made an impact.

    As she was about to say something to reassure them, Alistair caught her attention and motioned for her to keep silent. For a moment, she contemplated saying something anyway, but she eventually resolved to let it go. If he wanted them on edge, it wasn¡¯t her place to question it.

    Alistair¡ªstill smiling¡ªturned around and, without further fanfare, walked through the gate.

    Reyleigh took in the latticework portcullis and realised the north gate was smaller than its counterparts in the other cardinal directions. She had come this way once before, but hadn¡¯t noticed how out of place it seemed. Looking now at the bleak wasteland beyond it, she felt like she understood why the city hadn¡¯t prioritised the northern gate and choose to make it easier to guard and more defensible.

    Soon they cleared the moat outside of the walls and she could see the arid plains stretching towards the horizon in all its dusty glory. Far in the distance, she knew the Northern Forest and its gnarled trees were waiting for them. She had learned from Alistair that the forest ended in more arid plains that continued for untold miles until they hit the great sea. The sentient races had long since abandoned the inhospitable landscape, making it a breeding ground for monsters. There had supposedly been a large country on the plains some three centuries ago, but whatever was left of it could no longer sustain civilization.

    The group walked at a brisk pace, set by their frontliner Harald. Alistair had disappeared and was scouting ahead while leaving markers for them to follow. The bent sticks or hills in the dirt were part of the test. If they lost their way, they would lose marks and Alistair would have to come guide them. All around, gnarled trees and thorny bushes started cropping up, but the actual northern forest wouldn¡¯t start for another day of travel. And when it did, they had been told they would notice.

    ¡°Any of you been to the north?¡± Owen asked, back to his laid-back self. He had his hands behind his head and was sporadically whistling.

    Reyleigh looked at the sky in contemplation before answering.

    ¡°Alistair took me out to gather venom at the forest border once. I¡¯m not sure if it was to scare me or if he genuinely needed more poison for his arrows, but it was a learning experience. The snakes out here have venom that can kill you in just a few days if you can¡¯t get to a healer.¡±

    ¡°You don¡¯t say?¡±

    Owen dropped his arms to his side and started paying close attention to the ground. He continued while his eyes darted around.

    ¡°I¡¯ve mostly been to the south and west. The Fire Caves and Black Night guard duties were my first real trips outside the walls. Both those dungeons are scary as hell, though. I¡¯m glad we¡¯re not going there, even if we are basically expendable scouts for this new dungeon.¡±

    Harald, who had been walking a few steps in front of the party, slowed down and shrugged.

    ¡°I agree. Nature domain is more or less the perfect dungeon, no lava trying to melt your face off, no shadows trying to fuck with your mind, just friendly beasties and maybe a horny fairy or two.¡± The big man grinned with a faraway look in his eyes.

    Reyleigh quickened her pace and smacked the back of his head. He turned around with a wounded expression on his face.

    ¡°Don¡¯t get carried away! You know as well as I do that fairies can kill you at a hundred meters with a fireball, or just turn your brain into mush.¡±

    Before anyone could react to Rayleigh¡¯s warning, Purity spoke for the first time since they left the wall. ¡°It¡¯s undines who have sex with you. Not fairies.¡± Her deep voice resonated across the plain and had a throaty quality to it.

    Reyleigh bounced right off of Harald¡¯s back. The man stood rooted to the ground like a tree and didn¡¯t seem to notice Reyleigh crashing into him. Quick as a lizard, he turned on his heel and ran over to Purity.

    ¡°Tell me all the details! Undines right? What are they like? How are they equipped? And most importantly, do you know any?¡±

    Owen popped up as well and joined in with more questions. While Themis stood to the side, his head suspiciously turned toward the conversation. Purity looked warily at all the men staring at her with puppy-dog eyes before she quickly reformed her standard non-caring expression and promptly ignored them.

    Try as they might, the boys couldn¡¯t get Purity to spill the beans on the Undine, but that didn¡¯t discourage them from trying all the way to the first campsite. Their antics kept the mood light and dispelled the eerie silence of the wasteland. Alistair had marked the campsite with the agreed upon signal for making camp; a red ribbon tied around a stick in the ground.

    Having set up camp a number of times before in various training exercises, the recruits fell naturally into their required roles and even Themis contributed, which meant they finished within the hour. Reyleigh unrolled her bedroll inside the dome of light cast by the campfire, but far enough away that she had her personal space. Harald and Owen were used to her skittishness and waved away Themis when he tried to make comments about it. The insufferable armoured idiot still had a sneer on his face as she set up her bedroll. But that was nothing new.

    Eating a cold meal and feeding the small fire kept them occupied until the stars came out. Soon, most of them entered their bedrolls and went to sleep. They set a watch with a shared rotation between all of them. Reyleigh drew the longest straw and got to skip watch-duty in favour of the last watch the day after.

    Laying in her bedroll, she listened to the whispered conversations between Owen and Purity while they kept first watch. The crackling of the fire and the dusty but still fresh air made Reyleigh¡¯s eyes heavy and soon she drifted off to sleep.

    She awoke well rested to sunlight and the sound of clashing steel. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, she sat and looked for the source of the commotion. It didn¡¯t take long to see that Harald and Owen were sparring in a small circle dug into the arid earth on the other side of the burnt-out bonfire.

    They danced around the field. Owen occasionally testing the bigger man¡¯s shield, which prompted the short-sword Harald wielded to dart out like a viper¡¯s tongue in quick retribution. They were clearly holding back and sparring mostly as a warmup before the upcoming day¡¯s march. She had to admit; they were pretty good. Analysing their swings and dodges, she was, however, quite certain that she could best both of them in a one-on-one fight, especially with the sheer power and reach of her greatsword.

    Owen usually relied on stealth, even in open combat, with feints and lounges designed to keep his enemy on their toes. He also loved using the environment to ambush unwary foes. Because the Watches¡¯ sparring grounds contained no natural features or hiding places, he was at a severe disadvantage against the much more straightforward hack and slash tactic employed by Harald and most of the other recruits. Still, he always participated in the Watches¡¯ usual hand to hand sparring¡ªlike the one in which Reyleigh knocked him out the day before¡ªbut his actual strength lay in the shadows from which he could hit with precision and skill.

    Harald was a classic large shield user and utilised his sword and board to whittle down his opponent by taking hits on his shield and retaliating in short bursts. He specialised in death from a thousand cuts and was a hard nut to crack, even with superior attributes like Reyleigh¡¯s.

    Overall, her battles with the two had always been hard won ¨C even if she was undefeated ¨C which meant that the two were probably in the top five fighters of the recruits. Seeing them sparring elicited a feeling of contentment in Reyleigh, as she knew they had really earned their place in the exam, just like her. Turning her head to the stoic figure of Purity packing her supplies and the aloof Themis munching on some jerky to the side, she couldn¡¯t help but wonder if the unfamiliar pair were on the same level or if they were taking the exams based on some other merit. Had they paid or cajoled their way in? Were they geniuses or just diligent workers? Themis never really trained near her anymore after he had requested a transfer into another unit, and Purity was in another branch altogether, so she knew very little about them. Themis only really interacted with her in the barracks, which told her all she needed to know about his personality but little about his actual combat prowess. He had flinched at her punch earlier, though, which was good. Very good.

    Sticking a piece of jerky in her own mouth while smiling, she stood and slung her pack over her shoulder. The boys had stopped sparring and were wiping their brows with a rag. Themis was looking north with a rare sombre expression. Alistair¡¯s earlier warning about the dangers of the Northern Forest rang in all their heads, it seemed.

    She wanted to needle Themis for his apprehension, but knowing things only got more deadly as they neared the forest made her refrain. Reyleigh was actually glad that he took the test seriously. She had been afraid that he would turn it into some sort of pissing contest and was frankly surprised at his good behaviour so far.

    Walking over to Purity, Reyleigh waved at Harald and Owen, who were doing a few after-workout stretches.

    ¡°Hey sleepyhead! We had time for a practice match and breakfast before you deigned to grace us with your presence. I¡¯ll never understand how you¡¯re able to sleep like that out here.¡± Harald shook his head and gestured to the wilderness.

    ¡°I guess I just like being outside the city¡­ Something about nature and the flow of it calms me, I guess. It just feels right out here. Not that the city is bad, but this place, even with its many flaws, is so beautiful and calming.¡±

    Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.

    The clanking of metal preceded Themis¡¯ oily voice as he walked towards them. ¡°Must be your filthy blood calling to you. Why don¡¯t you just answer it and live like your savage brothers and sisters? I¡¯m sure they¡¯d be happy to have you. Might even feel more like yourself gulping down raw meat and living in a tree.¡± His signature sardonic smile was like a gash on his face while he delivered the insult.

    As always, he was regurgitating the same preconceived drivel, and Reyleigh let it wash over her. While it hurt, she had long since learned not to react. Letting slip that the abuse affected her only made it worse. Besides, she smiled her tight-lipped smile when she realised; he had kept Alistair out of it. He obviously didn¡¯t dare insult him out here¡ªlike he had done in the barracks¡ªsince he never knew if the stealthy ranger was within earshot. Being bigoted towards her elven heritage was the best he could manage, and even though it hurt a little, the satisfaction of knowing he was afraid of going further balanced it out.

    Letting her smile grow into a saintly, tight-lipped smirk, Reyleigh walked closer to Themis and got right in his face. His disgust mounted the closer she came.

    ¡°If living in a tree was all it took to never see your ugly mug again, it¡¯d be a good deal Themis.¡±

    His face reddened, and he opened his mouth for a retort, but just before he could deliver it, Alistair¡¯s voice rose over the encampment. Reyleigh¡¯s heart leapt, but not as much as Themis¡¯, who jumped straight off of the ground in surprise.

    ¡°Good job with the camp.¡± Alistair smiled, obviously aware of the now panting Themis.

    ¡°We will be entering the northern forest in about two hours. Be ready for anything. A pack of goblins were spotted in the area a few days ago, so don¡¯t let your guard down. If anyone gets poisoned or sustains a serious wound out here, the exam will be over.¡± The finality in his voice and intense stare punctuated the serious warning. ¡°I¡¯ll be much closer to you from here on out. You won¡¯t see me, but I¡¯m here. If there¡¯s an emergency, just call my name and I¡¯ll find you. Now get your asses moving!¡±

    Just as his words died on the wind, he took a couple of steps to his right and seemed to shimmer before Reyleigh lost track of him. His stealth abilities were uncanny to watch.

    ¡°Damn! I wish I could do that. He¡¯s so freaking cool¡­ Just like poof!¡± Owen was making an exploding motion with his hands, his eyes glittering.

    ¡°I can ask him for his autograph if you want, Owen. I¡¯m sure you could mount it on the wall in the barracks somewhere, or sleep with it.¡± Harald was openly grinning at his friend while he teased him.

    ¡°Shut up! You wish you had his power. We all do. That¡¯s why we¡¯re here, right?¡± Owen looked around at both Reyleigh and Harald, who nodded sheepishly.

    Harald scratched his cheek as he replied, ¡°Of course Owen, jeez, we all think he¡¯s cool, but you don¡¯t have to point it out like that.¡±

    Alistair was the primary draw for recruitment into the Watch. Which meant that they were all here for the same reason; to get however close to his power as they could. But Reyleigh had to agree that pointing it out so crudely made a few motes of embarrassment surface inside her. She had an even closer bond to him and had entered the Watch because she wanted to be useful and pay Alistair back for helping her so much. The bond the two of them shared was something she dearly cherished ¨C even though it wasn¡¯t always reciprocated. The few times he actually complimented her or gave her advice led her to believe that even though he seemed closed off, he did feel the same deep down. He had never told her as much, but she was sure it was true. In the small night hours, if she was truly honest with herself, she knew Alistair was the closest thing she had to a father.

    After a little while, the conversation died down, and the group continued their foray into the dry and weathered wasteland. It didn¡¯t take long before they noticed a sudden increase in the telltale thorny bushes and gnarled trees native to the Northern Forest. The forest really needed a better name, but Reyleigh guessed that unimaginative names were common because most people hadn¡¯t really travelled anywhere. There was only one forest near Unbern¡¯s northern side, after all.

    As they wandered farther north, the trees became a little taller, just slightly taller than Reyleigh¡¯s full height. They were also a lot wider. Both the trunks and the crowns gave the illusion of endless expansion and the snaking branches twisted and turned like they had endured gruelling torture, as if something had squeezed them into unnatural shapes, unwilling participants in their own growth. The bark was grey and hard as stone, with spots of yellowish green where fresh growth sprouted.

    The thorny bushes crowded the ground and clung to the trees. Harald switched places with Owen, who used his well-maintained daggers to cut his way through. He had to be careful, however, as spiked thorns were everywhere, just at the right height to jab at his most sensitive spots. Owen cursed as he hacked and slashed their way forward.

    Overall, the forest gave off a feeling of sickly emptiness, surrounding them on all sides, and Reyleigh imagined the branches crawling towards them, conspiring to blot out the sky. Shivering, she tried to shake the feeling by rubbing her arms, but couldn¡¯t get rid of the sense of wrongness creeping up inside her. The unnatural stillness and sickly feeling the forest gave off was the opposite of the comfortable contentment she usually experienced when outside the walls. It was as if nature itself abhorred the growth here. Alistair¡¯s warning that they would know when the forest started rang true, as the unnaturalness was unmistakable.

    ¡°I don¡¯t like this,¡± mumbled Reyleigh as she carefully navigated the latest set of thorny brushes. ¡°This forest is unnatural. I feel like it¡¯s paying attention to us¡­¡±

    ¡°I see thorns and trees only. No unnaturalness.¡± Purity said in a low tone. To Reyleigh, it sounded hollow, like she was trying to convince herself just as much as them.

    ¡°Me neither,¡± added Themis, ¡°and keep your inane rambling to yourself. If you¡¯re trying to influence us to make yourself look better; don¡¯t bother. I won¡¯t fall for your petty schemes.¡±

    To Reyleigh¡¯s surprise, he was the only one who seemed unaffected by the atmosphere.

    ¡°I¡¯m not trying to do anything, Themis, just telling you how it feels! I don¡¯t know if my detestable elven blood is actually calling to me or if it¡¯s some other instinct, but I don¡¯t like it here.¡± Reyleigh answered.

    She looked at Owen and Harald, who tensed up at her warning and was moving even more slowly. Harald took the lead again, his massive wooden tower-shield in front with his short sword slowly clearing the way. Owen was staying close behind him, both his daggers still drawn, ready to strike. Purity was bringing up the rear with Themis, and Rayleigh was in the middle.

    Themis looked like he wanted to say more when they slowed their pace, but wisely kept silent as he picked up on the sudden seriousness of the group.

    After walking in tense anxiety for another few minutes, the sudden sound of snorting made Reyleigh tap Harald on the shoulder. He stopped, and she focused. She had better hearing than most humans¡ªcurtesy of her eleven ears¡ªand both Owen and Harald knew to take notice when she heard something they didn¡¯t. The sound had come from a copse of trees to their right, which had grown together, forming a tapestry of branches weaved into a natural wall. Reyleigh tapped Owen on the shoulder and pointed at the copse in question. The warning rippled through the tense group and they held their collective breath, entirely focused on the point Reyleigh indicated.

    Reyleigh¡¯s stomach did a somersault as Themis¡¯s voice tore through the thick silence. In a panic, she was about to hush him. But she was too late.

    ¡°Hey. What are we¡ª¡±

    At the exact time the words left Themis¡¯ mouth, a massive humanoid creature leapt from behind the wall of branches.

    The monster was sickly green, like the patches of fresh growth on the surrounding trees, and had blended perfectly with the natural wall. It was double the size of a normal human, with long hulking arms dangling all the way to its ankles. It was naked apart from a set of dirty cloth squares covering its private parts. Landing a few dozen feet in front of them on a bare patch surrounded by murderous thorny bushes, it growled, its muscles bulging and flexing at its throat and neck. Two small horns grew out if its bald head, curving slightly to either side. Reyleigh recognised it as an ogre, a monster type mentioned frequently in their lessons with multiple sub-types, none of which had this colouring or quite the same hulking physique.

    With an expression of glee on its piglike face¡ªwhich sported a set of tusks from its lower jaw¡ªthe ogre exploded into motion and covered half the distance between it and Harald, who was in the lead, in a flash.

    The group stood frozen when the creature unhinged its jaw and turned its growl into a deafening roar, spittle flying everywhere. As if a thread snapped at the sound, the group regained their wits and their training took over as everyone exploded into action.

    Reyleigh drew her greatsword and ran toward Harald, Purity drew her mace, Themis shouted something, and Harald barrelled toward the creature with his massive shield leading the way. Owen ran in behind Harald¡¯s shield, his daggers held in a reverse grip.

    With a massive crash and splintering wood, Harald caught the creature¡¯s fist on his shield as the two forms collided. Harald was a large man, but the sheer size of the monster was such that the impact pushed him backwards, making him skid over the small patch of clear ground. Not prepared for the sudden reversal in momentum, the bigger man almost bowled Owen over. He somehow managed to not stab Harald and used both his hands in a desperate bid to steady his friend while clinging to his back.

    Before the creature could hit Harald with another potentially devastating blow, Purity ran up and swung her mace low, aiming for one if its knees. Just as the blow was about to hit, the creature sped up, its form blurring out of focus, before it twisted, one of its arms swinging wide, hitting her side, which sent her flying. Her petite body made a whistling sound as it curved through the air and crashed into the smaller trees opposite where the creature had ambushed them before she tumbled out of sight.

    Icy shock ran through Reyleigh¡¯s entire body at the speed of the monster. She had seen Alistair move like that, but an ogre shouldn¡¯t be able to use such advanced abilities. Charge was common¡ªeven among monsters¡ªbut an ogre using a skill with a speed boost like that was unheard of. She didn¡¯t have time to lament the unfairness of the world, however, as she reached the hulking beast and swung her greatsword in a wide arch, aiming at its head.

    Seemingly having used its allotted speed for the moment, the creature couldn¡¯t fully react in time and opted to dodged desperately to the side. Its last-ditch manoeuvre caused the blow to miss the head and land on its right flank instead, rewarding Reyleigh with yellow blood flying in a wide arch as her sword sliced its flesh. The thing let out a roar and spun around to retaliate, but a scream ripped through the air behind it, interrupting its trajectory. Themis flew through the air and landed on its back with the sound of metal hitting flesh. His greatsword slammed into the shoulder of the ogre, making it howl and turn its head to the new threat, now with a look of pure fury on its bestial face directed at the armoured mass clinging to it.

    The hulking form of the ogre blurred again, moving it ten meters in less than a second, leaving Themis floating in the air, with no sword in hand, before he hit the ground hard. It would have been a comical sight if not for the sickening crunch and subsequent scream when he landed awkwardly on his ankle. The creature¡ªwho ended up back in front of the wall of branches¡ªreached one of its arms behind its back at an unnatural angle and ripped out the Themis¡¯ sword before tossing it aside. Its piglike yellow eyes now entirely focused on the downed form of Themis, screaming with his hands around his leg.

    The hairs on Reyleigh¡¯s arms stood on end. It was as if the air thickened. She moved her eyes from Themis¡¯ agony to the ogre and gasped. The creature bulged, every single muscle flexing and popping. Its form crouched like a spring. She watched in slow motion as it tensed and flexed farther than she thought possible. In desperation, she started running towards it. She had to stop it from completing whatever it was doing; every fibre of her being was screaming at her to act.

    Her muscles strained as she pushed them beyond their limits, her joints snapped and crackled under the pressure, and she was dimly aware that a scream ripped from her throat. With pure conviction and force of will, she compelled herself to move faster than she had ever done before. Pain stabbed her joints like needles, her bones rattled as if they were being wrung and dried, but still she struggled to move even faster. The air around her thickened even farther than what the bulging creature could on its own. It felt like mud as she clawed herself forward one agonizing step at a time. Just as her scream sounded in her ears like it was coming from far away, her body lurched. The surrounding pressure lessened, and the world seemed to blur. Taking a dozen steps like they were one, it felt like she skated across the earth. Before she knew what had happened, she was standing an arm¡¯s length away from her quarry; her scream spent and her breath coming in harrowing gulps.

    Elation flowed through her aching body as she realised she had used Charge for the first time, but this was not the time for celebration, as the pinprick eyes of her foe moved away from Themis and locked on to her.

    Its muscles reached the apex of bulging tension and transparent tendrils appeared out of thin air all around its body, like heat waves in summer, but instead of wafting away from the creature it was as if it were sucking the tendrils in, absorbing translucent energy from the surroundings. The air around Reyleigh grew thicker still as the magic intensified¡ªfor it was surely magic.

    Reyleigh could taste a metallic tang when she opened her mouth in another savage scream, this time baring her pointed teeth in a warrior¡¯s shout, and with both hands she whipped her greatsword in a heavy upward crescent, aimed directly at the groin of the monster before her. The creature¡¯s eyes went wide as it saw the greatsword coming. It growled but couldn¡¯t unleash its magic before the sharp edge tore into its soft flesh. Bellowing in pain, the creature tried to move its body to the side to escape the sword now stuck in its most sensitive parts, but Reyleigh was having none of it, and threw her weight onto the blade, using a sawing motion to force it higher.

    Blood and guts spilled forth from the grizzly wound. She gagged as the stench hit her, but she didn¡¯t stop, focusing every speck of awareness on the back-and-forth motion of her arms. Utterly focused on her task, she realised way too late that the creature had regained its remaining wits through the harrowing pain and that the surrounding energy had reached a crescendo.

    With an immense explosion of sound and force, the magic the creature had been harvesting burst out like crashing waves. Reyleigh¡¯s sword shot away like an arrow preceded by chunks of intestines and organs. Reyleigh¡¯s eyes went dark, and she felt a warm liquid embrace engulf her before she lost consciousness.

 Chapter 7 - Pain

    Rayleigh¡¯s vision shifted in and out of focus. Dark shades of red and blue intertwined with pink as she fought to hold on to consciousness. She had blacked out in training several times before, but never like this. Her inner voice told her it would be bad if she let herself slip back into the darkness. She didn¡¯t know how she knew, but she was as sure as one could be that she had to fight with tooth and nail to hold on.

    A long, piercing scream echoed in her mind. It was a man¡¯s voice, which reverberated like a dozen grinding gears in the emptiness. Her eyes saw only darkness. She felt tired. All she wanted to do was lie down and sleep¡ªfar away from everything. A tiny voice broke through¡ªurging her to hold on. She was about to ignore it when she felt a hand on her shoulder and a familiar voice whispering in her ear. She couldn¡¯t make out the words, but the tone was feminine, which puzzled her. Finding strength in the voice, she sluggishly clawed her way into reality, shoving the darkness away. She felt like she was fighting the ogre all over again, snuffing out every mote of pink and cutting every shade of black from her hollow world.

    Finally, her consciousness resurfaced¡ªand she felt good for a split second as the trees and her companions came into focus¡ªbefore pain wracked her body, radiating outward in waves originating in her back and face. She forced herself to not scream, but couldn¡¯t suppress a soft whimper when the pain continued to build into a crescendo.

    In some small way, she was thankful there was pain at all because at least it meant she hadn¡¯t broken her back and paralyzed herself. With agonizing slowness, she lifted a hand to her face, dreading what she would find there. Her fingers almost touched the pulsing gash of pain marring her features before she forced herself to stop and lower them back down. Her life was worth more than some scar or disfigurement.

    The sweet tang of metal coated her mouth, making her gag. She spat, the thick liquid disgusting and far too warm. At first, she thought it was her own blood until her sluggish brain made the connection; it was from the ogre. Nausea swelled until she retched, vomit and blood mingling and trickling down her chin.

    Finally clearheaded enough to focus on her surroundings, she saw short brown hair and brown eyes looking back at her. She was lying on the soft grassy ground and Purity was wrapping bandages around her left leg.

    ¡°Hello¡± Purity said in her usual shorthanded manner.

    For a second, she wanted to scream at the smaller girl for her inane sense of normalcy, but the familiar stunted greeting calmed her rising fear. She tried to answer, but ended up coughing and gagging before finally getting the words out.

    ¡°Purity¡­ Wh¡­ What happened?¡±

    ¡°The monster exploded. You¡¯re injured.¡± Purity looked back down toward Reyleigh¡¯s half bandaged leg and then to her abdomen and finally to her face. To her credit, she didn¡¯t look away in disgust or pity.

    Reyleigh followed the path of Purity¡¯s gaze. Half dried blood caked every surface of her body, with bits of flesh and organs spattered everywhere. If she didn¡¯t know better, she would have thought she had bathed in blood and bits of flesh¡ªthe monster explosion must have absolutely drenched her. Before she could comment on her state, the pain washed over her again, a shiver running up her spine despite her desperately desire to weather it. Slowly, she tried to get her legs under her, but they wouldn¡¯t obey.

    ¡°Shit. I can¡¯t¡­ I can¡¯t stand up.¡±

    Ice laced her veins, and her fear mounted. She tried again to get her legs to cooperate, straining and whimpering, but hard as she tried¡ªthey just wouldn¡¯t listen to her commands. Pain pulsed through the muscles of her thighs and calves, and even though she could feel them¡ªoh gods, could she feel them¡ªthey were either too weak or too bruised to hold her weight. Instead, they flopped uselessly. She kept trying until she noticed Owen come running from behind a copse of bushes.

    Grime covered him too, not to the same extent as her, but enough to make him look like he was more undead than man. She dimly remembered hearing his scream when the ogre exploded. Blood and guts caked his armour in streaks, evidence of a feeble attempt to remove the worst of it. At least he looked better than her.

    ¡°Reyleigh! Thank the Fallen¡­ You¡¯re awake.¡±

    He closed the last few meters and held her temples with both hands, careful not to touch her nose or cheeks.

    ¡°I can¡¯t believe you survived! We were ten meters away, and the blast threw us around like kittens. You flew for almost fifty meters! You should get a fucking medal or something¡ªit was godsdamn glorious.¡±

    He was cracking his usual jokes, but his tone was sombre, the humour not fully reaching his eyes, which were constantly scanning her. If Owen was this tense, Reyleigh knew it had to be bad. She tried to smile to reassure him, but only felt the caked blood on her face crack and crumble.

    ¡°Owen, where is Alistair? He¡ª¡± she grit her teeth when the pain washed over her again ¡°he should have been here. People die in the dungeon, not on the way to it. He should have saved us. Something must have happened to him!¡±

    Owen¡¯s face contorted into a sneer, and it took him several tries before he answered.

    ¡°I don¡¯t know. I screamed myself hoarse trying to find him after I dragged you from the grass over there.¡± He pointed to a patch of grass with blood all over it. ¡°But he hasn¡¯t shown up. Fuck Reyleigh, I know you love the guy, but I think the heartless bastard left us out here¡­¡±

    Reyleigh grabbed Owen¡¯s collar with surprising strength and looked into his wide eyes. ¡°No. He wouldn¡¯t do that! Something happened. I know it did!¡±

    Owen broke her grip and waved his harms in a placating gesture.

    ¡°Ok Rey, ok. You saved our hide and I trust you. If you say something happened, then something happened.¡±

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. And Owen? Thanks¡­¡± she said.

    Letting her hand drop, Reyleigh hissed when she paid for her outburst with a fresh wave of pain. It warmed her heart to know Owen found her and helped her. She always felt like she could put her life in his hands, but now she knew.

    If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

    ¡°Don¡¯t thank me. I only found you. It was Purity who dressed your wounds and helped me drag you over here.¡±

    Reyleigh looked from Owen to the reserved woman, now standing with her back to them, keeping watch. At the mention of her name, she turned her head slightly and nodded to Reyleigh with a slight smile in her eyes. Shakily nodding back, she realised she didn¡¯t really know a lot about Purity. The fact that she knew how to treat wounds was both surprising and very welcome¡ªeven through the pain addled fog of Reyleigh¡¯s mind, she could see that her bandages were expertly applied.

    ¡°I don¡¯t think I can walk. Can you or Harald carry me?¡± Reyleigh admitted to Owen.

    ¡°Yeah, the big lug should be able to. He¡¯s out looking for more monsters, but I think the explosion scared away all the beasts around here.¡±

    He looked at the forest like something was lurking inside the sickly underbrush waiting to eat him.

    ¡°Anyway, we¡¯re not in any condition to go back to the city. The dungeon¡¯s only a few kilometres away if my guess is right, and Purity said she could feel something stirring inside her while she treated you. We think that maybe she¡¯s getting some kind of wound treatment ability or spell. If we can get to the Dungeon Orb, maybe she can pick a Class that has an ability for healing or at least some first aid.¡±

    Reyleigh nodded, trying to fight her rising panic. She felt incredibly tired and decided to lay back down. Not long after, she heard Harald moving through the brush towards them. He had obviously been near enough to hear their conversation and came to pick her up.

    Reyleigh dreaded the coming journey. Her wounds throbbed painfully, feeling like hellish rends of fire across her face, leg and stomach. Her fingers rose unconsciously toward her face again before she could stop herself and her fingers came away soaked in blood. The touch made her notice the trickle of fluid that burned hot trails down her cheek before dripping down onto her bosom. It was hard to reconcile what her face might look like and her mind tried to defend itself by thinking of something else¡ªanything to escape the pain. That¡¯s when it hit her.

    ¡°Where is Themis?¡±

    ¡°Ah¡­ Eh, well¡­ He disappeared after the fight. My guess is he saved his own bacon and ran back towards Unbern. Fucking selfish prick¡­¡± Owen clenched his fist and looked back toward the city.

    Not sure if that¡¯s a good or bad thing, she thought.

    Reyleigh wasn¡¯t really sure what to make of the insufferable man¡¯s disappearance. They needed all the help they could get to reach the dungeon, but she hadn¡¯t really decided if Themis was a help or a hindrance. Even in the fight, his reckless actions had cost them just as much as they helped. Before she could come to any sort of conclusion, the pain struck her again and shattered her thoughts.

    Harald¡¯s muscular arms snaked beneath her while she writhed, and he picked her up. All the while his deep voice vibrated against her body as tried to reassure her. He told her in soft tones that she was plenty light and that he could carry her for ages.

    While lying in his arms like a sack of potatoes, she blearily watched Owen and Purity stake a course and lead the way. She hoped they would reach the Dungeon Orb soon. Her limbs were on fire and felt sluggish, and her wounds throbbed. Even Harald¡¯s steady arms couldn¡¯t stop the wound on her face from cracking or her abdomen twisting painfully.

    The group walked in silence, mostly to not draw attention but also from exhaustion. They walked for what felt like ages, and after an hour or so, Reyleigh gained a little more clarity. She didn¡¯t really notice a lot about her surroundings, but she was able to distract herself by reviewing what she knew about Dungeon Orbs.

    Most of her knowledge came from brief talks with Alistair, since the trainers and lecturers were famously tight lipped about the mystical artifacts. A long history accompanied the fabled Dungeon Orbs and¡ªfrom what she had pieced together¡ªthey represented a lost part of the world itself.

    Before The Fall, the sentient races could all see their own level at any time, choose skills and classes as soon as they leveled and pick their skills freely¡ªbut all that changed after the Gods disappeared and the world shattered. Dungeons spawned, leaving them without divine guidance. Thankfully, they soon realised that outside all the newfound dungeons an orb made of mysterious crystal had spawned, which would let any thinking creature read its own status and choose their skills and classes, almost as if the orb was connecting them to the divine gift they had lost.

    Some people started worshipping the dungeons and protecting the stones, but were ultimately slaughtered when mindless monsters poured from the dungeon-entrances into the world. These were frenzied beings who attacked anyone and anything they could find. After a while, the dungeons and even the orbs¡ªwhich people started calling Dungeon Orbs¡ªwere seen as a curse. The sentient races couldn¡¯t resist the power of the divine gift however, and towns started springing up near the Dungeons to push back the escaping creatures and clear the way for those who dared to enter the depths themselves. This led to the rise of adventurers and later entire cities who fought the monsters to gain levels and powerful classes.

    It was one such Dungeon Orb they were desperately marching towards now, since a sentient being couldn¡¯t attain a Class without touching one. Weirdly, one could gain General Skills without using a Dungeon Stone¡ªa difficult feat, to be sure¡ªbut one Reyleigh remembered that she had managed right before the exploding ogre had thrown her away like a rag-doll. The memory served as a balm to the harrowing state of her body. Attaining a skill without a Class was certainly possible, but extremely difficult outside extraordinary circumstances¡ªbut with all her hard work, she had done it. All her hard training had paid off.

    Too bad I had to blow myself up in the process.

    She tried to laugh, but a fresh wave of pain made her groan and forced her back to reality; the Charge skill wasn¡¯t much use with her body torn to shreds.

    ¡°Harald. How bad is it?¡± Reyleigh looked up at her long-time friend, who met her eyes and looked away.

    ¡°Not that bad, Rey. You¡¯ll be fine when Purity gets her Class. I¡¯m sure of it.¡±

    He was lying.

    She could feel her strength waning. The bleeding had finally stopped, but she was feeling fainter, and it was a struggle to fill her lungs with air. Something was wrong inside her. She could feel the blood talking to her, informing her that it didn¡¯t look good. She froze.

    I can feel my¡­ blood?

    No such thing had ever happened to her before. Excitement warred with trepidation as she closed her eyes and focused on the strange feeling, forcing the pain out of her mind to buy a few moments of clarity. It took her a couple of minutes, but she finally connected to something¡ªlike a new sense, but this one turned inward.

    Her blood was calling to her. At first it was faint, but then she could feel herself following the blood caking her body, flying along it until she reached the swollen gash running from her left eye, across her nose and mouth to her chin. Somehow, she felt the wound respond, and a warm feeling started radiating from where she was focusing.

    Doubling her efforts, she followed the blood further until her perception entered into her¡ªthe veins becoming clear in her mind, red blood flowing through them like a pipe ready to burst. The deep pounding of her heart reverberated like a drum, making her move in beat with the frantic tattoo. Starting with the cut on her face, expanding into a tree with a thousand branches, her perception flowed through her neck into her chest¡ª

    ¡°Rey. Hey Reyleigh! Don¡¯t sweat it, ok? You¡¯re gonna be fine. I promise.¡±

    The gentle giant snapped her out of her focused state and the vision¡ªor whatever it was¡ªdisappeared.

    Sudden rage threated to overwhelm her, forcing a scream of pure agonizing desperation to her lips. She was about to let it rip out of her¡ªthe pain be damned¡ªbut the feeling faded.

    Reyleigh shivered. Something was messing with her feelings, and she wasn¡¯t sure where it was coming from.

    ¡°Ye¡­ Yeah¡­ I believe you Harald. I¡¯m gonna be fine.¡± She said.

    Before she knew what was happening, her vision blurred, and exhaustion overtook her.

    Reyleigh relaxed back into the massive arms enveloping her body, feeling her consciousness slipping, slowly descending into a warm, fuzzy pool of nothingness. In a last-ditch effort to stay conscious she grasped at the sense she had just unlocked, the weird sensations of perceiving her blood and wounds, but she couldn¡¯t seem to focus on it anymore, and soon she lost herself in the grasp of unconsciousness.

 Chapter 8 - The Orb

    The first thing Reyleigh noticed was the birds singing. Their squawks and twitters meshed into an unwelcome cacophony, each high-pitched note stabbing into her ears like a knife. Slowly opening her eyes, she saw massive branches crawling through the sky, their girth indicative of the enormous proportions of the tree they belonged to. Filled with awe, she could hardly believe it when she looked closer and noticed thousands of smaller branches sprouting from their larger brethren, filling the sky¡ªreaching for the heavens. The leaves were sparse but massive, hiding the sun and fluttering ponderously in the wind. Reyleigh¡¯s overheated skin appreciated the shaded coolness beneath the oversized canopy. The cool air lifted some of the fog from her tortured mind.

    Battling her ruined body and strained brain, she managed to string together enough clarity to realise that she had a high fever, as apparent by her hot, throbbing neck and chest.

    ¡°There you are.¡± Harald¡¯s face entered her blurred vision.

    The large man was moving at a fast pace¡ªthe sight of the branches above going past made that clear. His massive arms wrapped around her in a protective princess carry. Somehow, he managed not to jostle her.

    ¡°We thought we lost you there for a second.¡± His eyes were glassy, clearly struggling to keep his emotions in check. ¡°But we made it¡­ The Dungeon Orb is just a few meters away. Hold on Rey, Purity is almost there.¡±

    His rumbling voice reverberated into her body once again, but instead of comforting her, it just made her sleepy. She snuggled into his arms but winced when her stomach touched her soaked armour and undershirt. Ignoring the offending wetness and brief pain, she succumbed to the fuzziness of sleep. Rudely, something insistently shook her awake. She felt stubborn anger flare at the interruption.

    ¡°Don¡¯t you dare fall asleep, Rey! Just hold on a few more minutes.¡±

    The obvious concern in Harald¡¯s voice mollified her, and when he started jogging, she kept from complaining. To be honest, the violent movements helped keep her mind afloat, even though she wished he would stop.

    All too soon, her world tilted and her line of sight changed from the canopy to the trunk of the enormous tree. It was impossibly large. The width of it was easily wide enough to hold a full fortress with both walls and moat. The true height of the leafed wonder was impossible to measure from where they were standing since the branches and leaves hid the crown, but it wasn¡¯t an exaggeration to say it was over a hundred meters tall, at least.

    Reyleigh stared with wide eyes that widened even further when she saw the massive set of double doors carved into the middle of the trunk, with a stairway made of wood rising majestically toward it. The doors looked decidedly unnatural, made of some outlandish type of grey stone, filled with runes and abstract shapes. At the bottom of the stairs, just a few meters away from her and Harald, stood Purity, her hand resting on a perfect crystal orb the size of a melon hovering above a pedestal made of the same type of stone as the door. Runes encircled the pedestal in the same manner as the door. The complex patterns shone in dazzling shades of green. Reyleigh could have sworn she saw them move.

    Purity¡¯s eyes were closed, her face screwed up in a grimace of concentration.

    A few moments passed. Harald caught his breath and lowered her so she could see what was happening, while Owen fiddled anxiously at their side.

    Purity¡¯s face flickered from concentration to anguish and then to her usual stony-faced expression. Slowly, her hand dropped from the orb. With a sigh, she opened her eyes.

    ¡°I¡¯m sorry. No medicinal Classes.¡± A small smile played on her lips even through the sombre proclamation.

    ¡°I¡¯m a Tender.¡± She met Rayleigh¡¯s swimming eyes and the smile disappeared. ¡°I got new skills, but nothing that can help you. I¡¯m sorry¡­¡±

    Shaking her head, she walked over and touched Reyleigh¡¯s cheek with two fingers. The fingers were very cold, making her flinch and let out a breath she didn¡¯t know she had been holding. Eventually Purity¡¯s words penetrated Reyleigh¡¯s fever-fogged minds and, with a pit opening up inside her stomach, she nodded. Something had told her it wouldn¡¯t be that simple, but she had hoped¡­

    One could strive for a specific Class for years, but actually receiving one was a gamble at best, and getting a Class out of sudden necessity was a million to one.

    ¡°Carry me over there please, while I¡¯m still strong enough¡­¡±

    Reyleigh couldn¡¯t help but grasp toward the orb with a childlike gesture.

    ¡°Are you sure? Getting a Class in your condition¡­ It could kill you. The strain alone could break your body or your mind.¡± Harald¡¯s soft eyes came into focus above her again and looked into her own.

    ¡°I¡¯m sure. I can¡¯t die without a Class. That would just be¡­¡±

    Reyleigh went silent. She didn¡¯t know what it would be, but even the thought of not receiving a Class when she had the chance made her sick.

    With a heavy sigh, Harald nodded and set his eyes determinedly on the pedestal before walking the dozen or so steps towards it. Careful not to jostle her more than necessary, he angled himself so that Reyleigh¡¯s outstretched hand could touch the orb atop it. With painful slowness, her palm stretched outward until a magnetic energy latched itself to her skin and pulled it onto the smooth surface. She marvelled over the delicate, chilly feeling for a moment before icy pain stole her breath away.

    You have unlocked the following classes. Choose wisely:

    Soldier, Normal

    Organisational techniques, tactics, fighting style and rigid order, you have been taught it all at the hands of a military organisation. You are willing to lay your life on the line for the doctrine and be a small part of a much greater whole, fulfilling your duty and serving your people.

    Do you wish to become a Soldier?

    Warrior, Normal

    You have trained long and hard to be able to take the first steps onto the road of combat mastery. Training alone or with others you are constantly seeking to improve yourself. Sweat, tears and blood are no obstacle.

    Do you wish to become a Warrior?

    Blood Warrior, Rare

    You have bathed in blood, revelled in the feeling of spilling it while cutting through your enemies and tasted its metallic sweetness. A bond has been formed between this sacred liquid and your very soul, enabling you to commune with your own life-force, using it to heal or destroy. Drenched in the lifeblood, you will thread the path of the warrior, using your weapon to sow havoc amongst your enemies.

    Do you wish to become a Blood Warrior?

    Elven Hunter, Rare

    Your senses are better than most. You move through rough terrain with unnatural ease, your body and senses honed beyond what most races can ever achieve. The Elven Hunter is the backbone of the Elven race, the one who provides and nurtures, but also stands as a shield between her people and those who seek to harm them.

    Do you wish to become an Elven Hunter?

    Rayleigh¡¯s eyes stung. She forgot to blink as she scanned the magical text in her mind once, twice, and a third time. A deep longing she had known all her life, but suppressed and scorned, filled her as she looked at the Elven Hunter Class description. She could sense the tradition and pride within it, a glimpse of what could have been. Tears pooled in her eyes and ran down her face as she battled the urge to choose it. Closing her eyes, the flickering screen didn¡¯t disappear but only kept floating in the darkness. The clear text seemed as if it was mocking her.

    She knew.

    There was only one choice that could help her now. The name of the Class was sinister, the description more so, but she knew within her very soul that she had no choice if she wanted to live. The taboo was obvious, and if her soul was forfeit, then at least she would live.

    At least¡­ At least she could pay Alistair back before she died.

    She gulped, kept her eyes closed¡ªtears still streaking down her face¡ªand made her choice with her mind.

    Are you sure you want to select the Blood Warrior Class? This choice cannot be revoked.

    Again, she used the intrinsic knowledge given to her by whatever power generated the System to affirm her choice. The magical window vanished, and for a few seconds, she felt nothing. It was strangely enough bliss in itself as her wounds and fever seemed to disappear from her mind and body.

    Slowly, confusion replaced the pain. Sweat beaded on her fevered forehead. She dried her tears and continued waiting. Confusion gave way to fear, which then mounted. Suddenly, something ignited.

    It started small. A spark growing in a dark space deep inside her. It came from the same place as the strange blood vision from earlier, a perception of power rising within, enabling her to feel more, see more, be more. Like a sense long forgotten and slowly remembered.

    The spark widened into a raging flame as warmth spread to every single part of her body, filling her with a sense of wonderment but also apprehension. Abruptly, it morphed into the same icy pain from when she first touched the orb. It felt like a thousand daggers stabbing into every part of her with vicious ferocity.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    She screamed.

    The sound of it lost to her agony as she writhed and shook. Every single fibre of her being was ripped apart before it stitched itself back together¡ªthis time with something extra added to the mix. Her throat ripped from the constant screaming, and she wanted to black out, willed it to happen, but the sweet release wouldn¡¯t come. She wanted nothing more than to escape the pain. Dimly, she was aware of her physical body thrashing and her back buckling.

    Two muscular arms gently lowered her to the ground. The pain continued for an eternity; never ending, all-consuming.

    Finally, she got her wish as her consciousness dimmed, ripping at the seams like a piece of cloth put under too much strain. She welcomed the end, embraced it even, anything to escape the fiendish pain, but just as she was about to welcome oblivion, a small voice drew her back from the precipice. A woman¡¯s voice from long ago.

    ¡°Please. Please save her¡­ Swear to me!¡±

    Her mother¡¯s desperate plea rocked through her and dulled the all-consuming agony, forcing her to fight back against the creeping darkness. The pain redoubled, but was ever so slightly dulled. She tried to hold on to that voice. She knew it was important, critically so, but she wasn¡¯t strong enough. Like a hand slipping from her weakened grip, she lost it to the pain and the darkness.

    Again, she was lost, but this time she didn¡¯t seek the precipice of oblivion but rather stood fast. The voice had instilled something in her. A wish or a dream, maybe. She couldn¡¯t analyse it before a new sensation distracted her.

    The sensation was the same as she had felt earlier, but at the same time totally new. She could feel her own blood flowing through her. She could visualise it as an infinitely complex array of energy flowing into every corner of her being. It connected to her organs, her body, her flesh, and surprisingly, her very soul. Her blood was a life-force in the most literal sense, like a tub filled with lightning waiting to be released. She had glimpsed whatever this was before when she lay in Harald¡¯s arms, but this time the sheer force of it was something else entirely. Last time she had only been a bystander, far away and closed off from the true sensation. Now, she was dunked body and soul into the pure power of it.

    This new sense widened until it suddenly hiccupped, catching like a fishing line hooking a tree-root.

    Her body felt wrong, her pool of life-force was wrong, something had invaded it, and she felt disgusted at the sight of the sheer amount of filth rampaging within her. She cast about for a way to remove it and obliterate it. It felt so fundamentally wrong.

    To her surprise; something answered her call. New knowledge flooded her mind. It told her to activate an unknown part of her, something she had never noticed before, like a switch inside herself. With a burning desire to kill the invading sickness in her blood, she obeyed. Suddenly, and without any conscious effort on her part, a new life-force flooded her. She could feel her mana pool, but it was still full. This was something else. Like a reservoir hidden inside. It was similar to her mana in nature, but still so very different, more grounded, more visceral.

    The knowledge rose again and told her to expel the intruder, cast it from her body like the vile corruption it was. She didn¡¯t know if it was the right thing to do, but the desperation to rid herself of it ran deep and before she knew it, she agreed to the silent question posed by her new sense.

    Immediately, an acrid taste invaded her mouth. The taste shocked her and forced her to lose focus, but whatever she had turned on didn¡¯t stop or even slow down. Bile rose in her throat, quickly overwhelming her, making her gag. With an immense effort, she was able to open her eyes, not aware of the world around her, seeing only vague shapes and silhouettes. It didn¡¯t matter anyway as she gagged and vomited, spewing blood laced with black, congealed pieces of filth. She retched and heaved again and again, emptying her body of everything that felt wrong.

    After a while, the process finally stopped, and she lay gasping for air.

    Before she could collect herself, the knowledge spoke to her for a third time, telling her to fill herself with fresh blood.

    Thoroughly exhausted and barley conscious, she didn¡¯t dare refuse. The knowledge had forced harrowing pain and suffering on her, but she sensed that her body was better for it. Her acquiescence prompted the pool of life-force to stutter, expelling the last of its energy. Like a glass filling with wine, the energy entered her body and slowly congealed into blood.

    She realised that the transformation drained the last of her reserves. The reservoir of life-force was totally gone. A strange numbness crept into her extremities as well as her thoughts.

    Sensing the state of her body through her newfound sense, she felt that her body was filled to the brim with fresh blood, to a level where she felt bloated. As she viewed herself in this weird way, she realised she couldn¡¯t sense any leaks. Just as the infection plaguing her had been expelled, her wounds were healed as well.

    The process had seemed to drag on forever. Now that it was finally over, she fought to remain conscious, but it was a losing battle. Against her will, blessed empty darkness took her.

    ***

    Reyleigh lay on something comfortable when she woke, the soft sensation trying to drag her back to sleep. Remembering what had happened, she bolted upright instead. Expecting pain, she winced out of reflex, but was shocked to find that the pain didn¡¯t come. Slapping her hand to her abdomen, she found dry, fresh bandages. It felt sore, but a thousand times better.

    Sitting on her bedroll¡ªwhich someone had unrolled for her¡ªshe recognised the massive branches of the tree above her. It was the same ones she had seen before she chose her Class.

    A pit opened up in her stomach.

    Bood Warrior, the word echoed inside her head. Before she could let it consume her, she heard a faint crunching sound.

    Purity was walking towards her from the small cooking fire she had been tending. The sun was setting; the world was coloured in red and violet streaks intermingling with the clouds in the sky. Blearily, she recognised the beauty. It felt otherworldly for some reason.

    The feeling disappeared abruptly when she remembered to touch her face, wincing when she found a puckered and swollen scar running from her left eye across her nose to her mouth, stopping right above her upper lip. She felt the edges carefully, trying to imagine what she looked like. She wished she had her locket. It had been in her pack, but she couldn¡¯t see it anywhere after a cursory search. Purity stopped a few steps away, but came over when she saw Reyleigh looking at her again.

    ¡°You are awake.¡± She said, her eyes roaming her body.

    Reyleigh dropped her hand from her face and looked down, she was still caked in blood, but she felt only a little pain and a slight discomfort from her face. With uncertain movements she rose to her feet, her mouth slightly ajar, before she shook her head and answered.

    ¡°It¡­ seems that way. What happened?¡± She paused before continuing.

    ¡°I was sure it was all over. I could feel myself slipping¡­ I Could hear a voice¡­¡± she held a hand in front of her face, the one she had used to touch the Dungeon Stone.

    ¡°You touched the Stone, then you healed.¡± Came the clipped reply.

    Reyleigh just looked at Purity, her eyes widening in disbelief when the woman remained silent.

    ¡°And then?!¡±

    ¡°Then you slept. And woke up.¡± Purity tilted her head to the side in a questioning gesture. Reyleigh, getting more frustrated by the second, was about to shout at her, but thought better of it.

    I am alive. I have a Class¡­ I can get the explanation without losing my temper.

    Holding her hand to her head, she was about to ask more questions when Owen interrupted her by rushing into the clearing with Harald in tow.

    ¡°Rey! You¡¯re up! Finally¡­ You¡¯ve been out for a full day. I couldn¡¯t believe it when I saw you heal! What class did you take? Is it amazing? I have no id¡ª¡±

    Reyleigh cut him off by hugging him tightly.

    ¡°Thanks¡­ Thanks for finding me. Protecting me and getting me here.¡± She locked eyes with Harald over Owen¡¯s back, ¡°and for carrying me.¡±

    Letting go of Owen, she hugged Harald, too.

    She held him for a long time until she saw Purity staring at her with a complicated expression.

    ¡°Thank you, too Purity,¡± she said.

    Purity stared unblinkingly into her eyes for several seconds before she nodded. Reyleigh caught a slight flush in her cheeks before the stoic Tender turned away and busied herself with the fire. She was seemingly unaffected by the sentimentality, but Reyleigh noticed small signs of happiness through the stoic visage.

    Seems like she is a little softer on the inside than the outside. She thought.

    ¡°Wait! I almost forgot to ask what happened. Purity tried to tell me but¡ª¡±

    ¡°She didn¡¯t tell you?¡± Harald replied, looking at Purity, who ignored them.

    ¡°No. Or she tried¡ªbut that doesn¡¯t matter, just tell me.¡±

    Reyleigh, even though she was frustrated, had enough presence of mind to not be too loud. They were still outside a dungeon, after all, and a new one at that. Being stealthy was still important and everyone spoke in low tones to not attract unwanted attention.

    Like he was reading her mind, Owen chose that moment to stoically slink back toward a tree near the edge of the clearing and climb up¡ªobviously continuing to keep watch. He gave her a slight nod and a grin when she looked at him.

    ¡°Well, I guess there isn¡¯t much to tell, really.¡± Harald watched Owen climb the tree and scratched the back of his head. ¡°I mean, you put your hand on the Orb before you started screaming and writhing like a banshee. Was all I could do not to drop you. I couldn¡¯t pry your hand from the orb. I know I shouldn¡¯t have tried. Everybody says you can¡¯t stop a class selection, but the sounds you were making¡­ I thought you were going to die¡­¡±

    The large man locked eyes with her, and she could see the fear in them. It warmed her heart even though she felt guilty for worrying him.

    ¡°I mean it. I couldn¡¯t physically pry your hand away. It was stuck to the Orb. I think I would have ripped it apart had I tried any harder. Anyway, after a while, you calmed down, and I managed to put you on the ground. Then suddenly, your wounds started healing. Slowly at first, then faster as the hours went by. You¡¯ve been out for a full day. Your face only relaxed a couple of hours ago¡­ How do you feel?¡±

    Reyleigh gaped like a fish. A full day? She thought. That¡¯s insane! It only felt like a couple of hours at most.

    Looking down at herself and holding her arms out slightly, she examined her body.

    There was pain, sure, but compared to the total agony of the Class selection or her injuries, it was nothing at all. Reyleigh closed her mouth and took the time to feel her arms, torso, legs, and face. It honestly felt fine. She was sore everywhere, especially where she had been cut, which included her face. The scar moved and throbbed with every facial expression, and she felt herself trying to minimise them, which she couldn¡¯t quite process at the moment. Not to mention how she looked. She shuddered a little as she forcefully flung the thought from her mind.

    ¡°I feel fine, actually. I mean, I feel like I¡¯ve been sparring with Alistair for a week, but other than that, I¡¯m totally fine. It feels like some sort of miracle. It must have something to do with my Class¡­¡± She mumbled the last part before her eyes went wide.

    Sweat gathered and trickled down her spine as she remembered that she had picked a taboo class. Blood mages were outlawed and especially hated in Unbern. The city had a bloody history with certain elf clans who delved into the practice, creating grand rituals capable of killing thousands. Not as a big as a scar on the city as the Necromantic Plague, but still something parents scared their kids into staying in line with.

    What the hell do I tell them? If I tell them the truth. Will they kill me, imprison me? She thought, suddenly aware of the three people around her.

    No. They would accept me. Right?

    Could she trust Harald and Owen with this? Maybe.

    Purity, however, was a total wild card. She had never heard of her Tender Class, and she couldn¡¯t imagine what that meant for her sensibilities toward taboos like Blood Magic. She was, of course, not a full Blood Mage but a Blood Warrior, something she had never even heard of. Considering the massive changes to her perception and the healing of her body, she could guess that it was heavily invested in blood magic.

    She looked at the expectant Harald. Purity had turned to listen as well.

    ¡°Umm. I didn¡¯t really get a good look at my Class. I¡¯m going to touch the orb again. There should be an explanation in there.¡±

    She knew she sounded a little shifty, but both Purity and Harald just nodded and gestured toward the Orb, letting her get away with her little charade.

    ¡°I guess that makes sense. Be sure to tell us after though!¡± Harald said with just slightly forced cheer.

    A lump formed in Rayleigh¡¯s throat at the comment, but she swallowed it and walked towards the Orb.

    ¡°Also, we really shouldn¡¯t stay here for too long. It¡¯s just a matter of time before another ogre or something shows up. Alistair mentioned goblins as well.¡± Harald said as she walked.

    ¡°I know. But I¡¯ll be able to help you a lot more if I do this. You all got your Classes and checked them too, right?¡±

    Harald grinned with pride this time. ¡°Of course. And I¡¯ll tell you all about it after you¡¯ve done the same.¡±

    Reyleigh smiled a nervous thigh-lipped smile and slowly walked the last few steps toward the pedestal with the Orb hovering above it.

 Chapter 9 - Class

    Rayleigh put her hand on the smooth surface of the Dungeon Orb for a second time. Wincing at the memory of the last time she touched the Orb, she tensed but relaxed again and breathed a sigh of relief when the pain didn¡¯t return. A wall of text popped up in her mind¡¯s eye:

    Name: Reyleigh [last name not specified].

    Age: 20

    Race: Half-Elf

    Classes:

    Blood Warrior - Level 1

    Grants: +1 strength, +3 constitution, +2 charisma, +2 wisdom per level.

    Feats:

    <ul>

    <li>Blood Manipulation (Level 1)</li>

    <li>Blood Sense (Level 1)</li>

    <li>Blood Frenzy (Level 1)</li>

    <li>Empty Slot</li>

    <li>Empty Slot</li>

    </ul>

    Spells:

    <ul>

    <li>Blood Stitching (Level 1)</li>

    </ul>

    Abilities:

    <ul>

    <li>Life Absorption (Level 1)</li>

    <li>Corrupted Lifeblood (Level 1)</li>

    <li>Empty Slot</li>

    <li>Empty Slot</li>

    <li>Empty Slot</li>

    </ul>

    General Skills:

    <ul>

    <li>Charge (Level 1)</li>

    <li>Greatsword Proficiency (Level 3)</li>

    </ul>

    Attributes:

    Strength: 17 (+1)

    Dexterity: 12

    Constitution: 19 (+3)

    Intelligence: 10

    Wisdom: 12 (+2)

    Charisma: 18 (+2)

    Free Points: 5

    Reyleigh¡¯s heart skipped a beat. Disbelief, pride, and fear warred inside her. Stopping herself from looking around at the others to see if they noticed her shock, she tried to school her expression.

    Does it even matter that a show some shock? Even Purity cycled through a wild range of expressions when she saw hers, right?

    Trying to relax a little, she rolled her shoulders and refocused on her status. The first thing she noticed was, of course, her Class name.

    So, Blood Warrior¡­ I guess that¡¯s me now. No going back.

    I guess it could be worse. At least I can hide it somewhat. Necromancer would have been so much worse¡ªan army of undead following in my wake! Blood Warrior might give me a few visual effects and I obviously can¡¯t use my skills in public, but that¡¯s manageable.

    I think¡­

    The initial shock of seeing the details of her taboo Class faded as she read carefully through the rest of the page. Even though the name was pretty sinister, the attribute gains were incredible! Soldier as a Class gave 2 points for strength and constitution, and that was considered above average.

    Reyleigh didn¡¯t know a lot about starting Classes, but the Watch had extensively drilled her on the Soldier, Ranger, Rogue, and Medic Classes since they were the most common ones. Comparing what she knew about them to Blood Warrior, solidified the fact it was way beyond the norm. The Class gave her an insane 3 points to constitution! An incredible bonus like that would very quickly translate into an exceptional physique where she could survive wounds, diseases and poison with ease as well as need less sleep and rest.

    Every attribute had concrete effects on one¡¯s body, mind, or soul like that. Reviewing quickly, she remembered that strength affected melee damage, power and muscle density, as well as balance and athletics. The last two properties were shared with dexterity, which also controlled finesse and fine motor skills as well as being the main stat for ranged accuracy and damage.

    In the mental department, wisdom controlled how large a person¡¯s mana pool was, but also magical tenacity, defence against spells, and spell control. Intelligence also affected spell control, but was more targeted towards spell damage, penetrative power, and general mental acuity. In a sense, one could say that wisdom and intelligence were opposites when it came to spell-casting, as wisdom gave better defence and could even negate spells cast by Mages with significantly lower intelligence. While intelligence was specialised toward offence and was essential to overcome the defence granted by wisdom.

    Last, but not least, was charisma. The stat was decidedly the most obtuse and harder to grasp for Reyleigh, and she was frankly unsure about what exactly it did¡ªwhich was troubling considering it was her second highest stat. The only thing she knew for certain was that it affected magic for certain special Classes and that it affected her presence and force of mind. Since she had 0 intelligence gain, she was pretty sure that it replaced intelligence as her primary stat for spell-damage.

    Whatever that means, she mused. I¡¯ll have to look into exactly what each stat means to me at some point. When I find someone who won¡¯t kill or imprison me just for having my Class, that is.

    Done with the recap on stats, she continued to analyse her status.

    Strength was a stat she felt a keen interest in, and she was a little disappointed to see that it only increased by 1 per level. But her disappointment was quickly blown away by the plus 2 to wisdom and charisma.

    By the Fallen, I¡¯m going to be¡­ incredibly powerful.

    Reyleigh couldn¡¯t quite process the changes she was going through at the moment, but the writing was on the wall ¨C or the system at this point; she would be a wholly different creature soon.

    Also, reviewing the stats made her realised that Blood Warrior was one of those Classes that were a cross between a mage and a warrior. The Watch thought her a lot of things, but she was coming to terms with the overly specific nature of the information. What she knew of Classes outside the ones regularly found inside the organisation was built purely on hearsay from the tavern or what little she had witnessed herself while living in the city. All this was to say that she didn¡¯t really know a lot about magic or hybrid Classes at all. The only reason she recognised her own as the latter was stories from the tavern that talked about similar stat distributions.

    As the stories went, there were Classes that fell in the Spellblade category and Blood Warrior certainly fit the bill. High magic stats with low physical attributes, but not totally specialised like pure mages. Her new class was even less specialised with its plus 3 to constitution, which was, frankly, unbelievable.

    Also, the focus on skills synergizing with weapons was a dead giveaway. Mages rarely whacked people with their staves or wands, after all.

    Spellblades were thought of as the middle ground. Not the best melee fighters nor the best mages, but something in-between. Where exactly Blood Warrior ended up on the ranking over the best hybrid Class was anyone¡¯s guess, but Reyleigh had a good feeling about it.

    Healing, weapon skills, magic and incredible stats. Taking taboo classes seems pretty overpowered. No wonder you hear about them so often.

    The one thing Blood Warrior did the same as any other class was the five free points per level, which was totally normal. These points were typically used to balance out non-Class stats or to boost the main stats further if one wanted to really specialise. In Reyleigh¡¯s case, she decided she would hold on to the points for a little while, since she was unsure of how she should spend them. She obviously knew next to nothing about Blood Warrior, after all.

    Looking further down the page¡ªskipping her feats, spells, and abilities for now¡ªshe was happy to see her hard work before getting a Class had paid off. One could train and condition one¡¯s body to gain a non-trivial number of stats before getting a Class. After getting it, however, the ability to get stats by hard work was gone, except for those who managed to get Unique Feats, but that was the stuff of legends.

    Her eyes widened again as she looked at her attributes. ¡°Sixteen constitution,¡± she whispered.

    Before selecting a Class, the maximum an attribute could be enhanced to was twenty, and surpassing fourteen was a massive achievement. Sixteen before adding the class gain per level was beyond belief.

    And now I have nineteen. I¡¯m level one with nineteen constitution! She almost jumped for joy before she caught herself.

    They can¡¯t know. At least not yet.

    Charisma and strength were absurdly high as well. Dexterity was normal, as was her bottomed out intelligence and wisdom. Wisdom was almost an untrainable attribute without access to magic, but her Class would add to every level now, which was incredible.

    Overall, she was beyond happy with her starting point. A lot of the citizens of Unbern sneered at the practice of levelling stats before Class selection, saying that it hardly mattered after gaining a few levels, but Alistair had always cautioned against such practices:

    ¡°You can¡¯t get past the early levels if you die in the gutter to a thief or get backstabbed in the forest by a goblin. Good starting attributes are how you survive until you can become more than an ancle-biter.¡±

    The wisdom in his words was clearly apparent to her now, and she was glad that she had trained hard to make him proud and gain an upper hand on the early levels.

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    Reyleigh could feel her reservations about her Class waning, which both excited and frightened her. In some sense, she was just happy to have such a powerful Class of her own. Being weak and helpless had been her life for a long time and even though she faced a challenging path ahead, she was starting to believe it would be worth it in the end. Unbern also didn¡¯t scrutinise its citizenry too closely, which should let her return to the city without too much trouble. Practicing her skills and growing more powerful would have to be done in secret out in the wilderness, but she would deal with that like she had dealt with all the other hardships in her life.

    What do I tell Alistair?

    His severe face floated in her imagination and a dozen scenes where she told him about her new Class flashed through her mind. To be honest, she had no idea how her mentor would react to the news. He had personally hunted people with taboo classes down and killed them with his own hands. Would he do the same to her, or would he support her instead?

    Shit¡­ She cursed with a sinking feeling. I can¡¯t dwell on this now. It just has to be another thing I have to fix when we get out of here.

    Trying to bury her anxiety without too much success, she focused back on the text.

    Now for the feats! She thought.

    As she focused on them to expand the description in her mind, she reviewed what she had learned about Feats as a whole.

    They were essentially passive effects that influenced the wielder in some way or made it possible to wield the Abilities and Spells of a Class. Essentially, The Watch had taught them that they were the knowledge and power of the gods made manifest and infused within one¡¯s body and mind, which made it possible to create powerful spells and influence the world through your Class. At least that was the explanation most people believed. Nobody actually knew much about the screens and text people saw in their heads or where it came from, other than that it was a relic from before the Fall and one of the last vestiges of the divine in the world.

    Done with her review, she read the description of her feats.

    Class Feat - Blood Manipulation (Level 1):

    Blood speaks to you, and you feel kinship to its nature. You are able to manipulate blood.

    Class Feat - Blood Sense (Level 1):

    You are able to gather information from blood you touch and can find blood at a distance. Blood within living creatures is easier to sense, as is blood recently shed.

    Class Feat - Blood Frenzy:

    Blood stirs blood. When covered in or near large amounts of blood, you become frenzied and gain a small increase to all attributes. The more blood, the stronger the effect.

    All three of her feats made ice slide down her spine as her emotions rebounded from one extreme to the other. They just sounded so evil.

    Blood speaks to me. Are you serious? I don¡¯t want to touch blood and sense it everywhere. Or manipulate it, for that matter! And what¡¯s Blood Frenzy? Am I going to go insane!? Shit!

    She was freaking out now, and had to force herself to breathe slower to keep from hyperventilating. She had seen the Feat names when she scrolled past them, but the sinister descriptions were entirely too much. Counting to ten and breathing steadily calmed her down a little as she divorced her mind from the panic and tried to be objective.

    Blood Frenzy was the worst of the three. It seemed to give her a boost to her attributes, which, depending on the size of the increase, could make her incredibly powerful when blood was spilled. That small caveat was a big detriment, however. Would she have to cut herself before entering combat or try to bleed her opponents as much as possible? Or would limiting the effect altogether be a better option?

    The description didn¡¯t say anything about the frenzy part of the skill either, but the name made it seem as though she would start to lose control, which in battle was a death sentence.

    Gods damn it all. It¡¯s a feat too, and can¡¯t even be turned off. Fuck! I guess I need to test this thoroughly and try to find out how bad it¡¯s going to be. If I become some rabid monster, this is going to be a problem. However, the attribute increase does seem promising.

    There was no reason to panic yet. She felt fine now and dried blood still covered her entire body. Hopefully, it was manageable and even a solid increase to her power. Before the more rational part of her mind could disagree, she moved on.

    The next two Feats sound strong and both of them help me wield magic. Blood Manipulation is probably going to enhance my spells and my abilities while also letting me influence blood in some way. I guess the weird blood vision I have is related to this. While using it, I could literally see inside my body and will my blood to heed my commands. I didn¡¯t really have that much control over when and how I use it, though¡­ But I guess that changes when I¡¯m not on the verge of death.

    Blood sense looked more like a tracking ability than anything else. The wording about information was strange. Could she learn something about blood just by touching it? She would have to try it out later.

    Going through the descriptions with a more detached mindset helped a little, and her most recent roller coaster of emotion was on a downward slope again. She felt like she was switching moods faster than she ever had, but it was probably inevitable, considering the circumstances. She was trying to hide her taboo class from her friends and exam group, right after two near-death experiences, in the middle of her first real expedition, while looking for her mentor, after all.

    When I think about it like that, this seems pretty intense¡­ She thought to herself, shaking her head ruefully.

    Reyleigh was positive that the others were looking at her now. Her face had cycled through so many strange expressions and the whole process was taking a weird amount of time. The Blood Warrior Class had a lot to look at, and since she wasn¡¯t familiar with it in any way, she had to go through it with a fine-toothed comb. She really did have to hurry it up though, if she was going to have any chance of pretending to have a semi-normal Class.

    She had saved the best for last, however, and was determined to read through her Abilities, Spells and General Skills carefully. General Skills were skills anybody could get through hard work and study, or by some extreme circumstance. They could be active or passive depending on the type and could influence anything beneath the sun.

    Class Abilities and Spells were how a Class interacted with the world. It was hard to discern where Class Feats began and Class Abilities ended, and why some things were labelled as Spells even though they were long-term effects or used other resources than mana. Usually, though, one could discern between the three by categorising Abilities as active¡ªwell¡­ abilities¡ªthat don¡¯t use mana, Spells as active effects or abilities that used mana and Feats as passive aspects of one¡¯s Class. However, like most aspects of the Class system left by the gods, these distinctions remained fluid at best.

    Class Spell ¨C Blood Stitching (Level 1):

    You have learned about your body and experienced being ripped apart and injured. Through your familiarity with your own flesh and blood, you can will your blood to stich yourself back together at the cost of life-force. This spell activates automatically when you are about to die.

    Class Ability ¨C Life Absorption:

    Steal the life-force of others by consuming their very essence. You shall never know exhaustion as long as a victim is near. Amount of life-force absorbed scales with power of essence.

    Class Ability ¨C Corrupted Lifeblood:

    Corruption laces your lifeblood, making it solely yours and yours alone. You can coat your weapons and armor in corrupted blood at the cost of your life-force, which boosts effectiveness and infects your enemies.

    General Skill ¨C Charge (Level 2):

    At the cost of your stamina, you charge forward with speed far above your normal means.

    General Skill - Greatsword Proficiency (Level 3):

    You have grasped at the art of the greatsword. The depths of weapon mastery are vast, and this is the first step to becoming a master.

    Blood Stitching, a spell most would kill to get¡ªat least if they could remove the sinister undertones. Healing or restoration was exceptionally rare, magically based types even more so. There were known medical abilities aplenty and some alchemical abilities who could mimic magical healing, including healing potions, but they were few and far between. She had heard of self-healing in stories woven by travelling bards and boasts from the odd adventurer or merchant¡ªand she guessed that heroes like Alistair had similar abilities¡ªbut to gain one for herself spread a warm feeling of safety within her. It had already saved her life, and it would surely do so a hundred times over.

    Being a Blood Warrior was worth it just for this. She knew it was. Even if she had to lie to her best friends and possibly be exiled or worse, this ability alone would warrant the sacrifice.

    What gave her pause was the fact that it used life-force instead of mana. Aside from sounding incredibly sinister and dangerous, it didn¡¯t really make any sense. She knew this was the spell that had activated when she almost died, but she had no idea how it didn¡¯t just kill her faster.

    How could it heal me when it uses my life-force to do it? Wont that just kill me faster, or at least just keep me in status quo?

    It became a little clearer when she looked at Life Absorption, even though the Ability was utterly terrifying. She had to remind herself about all the fantastical changes her Class would bring several times before was able to read through the whole thing. The reference to victims and consuming left her with a deep feeling of unease.

    So, I frenzy at the sight and presence of blood and then I¡¯m supposed to do what? Drink it? This is¡­ I don¡¯t even know what this is¡­ But it¡¯s clearly how I gain more life-force to use for Blood Stitching. But how does that even work? Do I overload my own life force? Is it stored in the soul like mana is said to be? So many questions and no answers¡­

    Complicated feelings were crashing inside her and were building up to an all-out war. She still felt good about the incredible power the Class offered, but the more she analysed the different aspects of it, the more she realised how close she was to an abyss she really didn¡¯t want to explore further.

    Will I be able to hold on to myself through all this? Or will I end up as some kind of blood sucking ghoul?

    Trying to clear her head, she read the description of Corrupted Lifeblood and winced. It didn¡¯t get any better¡ªat all. She was corrupted and she could coat herself and her weapons in her own blood to infect others with it?

    For a moment, she just stood there like a zombie, her mind in total overload. From being afraid, then elated and now experiencing true terror, she was suddenly totally exhausted.

    Damn it all¡­ What have I gotten myself into? Will I even be humanoid after this? Or will I turn into a monster who eats people to fuel my growth?

    She didn¡¯t feel any different. Even though the text in her mind¡¯s eye described her new Class in monstrous ways, she just felt like herself. Like good old Reyleigh. Her mind was still her own, and she felt good, even better than what she had done before they had started the fateful exam.

    She focused on the feeling of her own body and the sanctity of her own mind. Slowly, she relaxed her tense muscles and eased her breathing. Her face returned to its normal expression¡ªshe didn¡¯t want to think about the despair that had marred it before she managed to calm down. Focusing on her breath and the feeling of it filling her lungs, she pushed the terror from her mind.

    Even though she might be on the cusp of becoming a terrible creature of nightmare, she hadn¡¯t succumbed to anything yet. She was still herself, and she still had a choice. With the power at her disposal, she would become fierce and powerful and she was going to control her own fate. She would make Alistair proud, and one day, she would stand tall and proclaim herself as a Blood Warrior. This was not that day, though. For now, she would have to lie and hide herself from everyone, even her closest friends, and if she was going to be able to do that, she needed to read the rest of her status. Finally, she was calm enough to continue.

    Last was her General Skills. She managed to scrounge up a few motes of happiness over the fact that the divine system recognised her dedication to her chosen weapon. Greatsword Proficiency would let her wield her weapon a little more efficiently and would make it easier to learn, even without an instructor. Many watchmen or Soldiers had similar skills, and the recruits had been drilled on the importance of gaining at least one. This was the bread and butter of a true weapon master and at the higher levels, it could turn normal swordplay into something akin to magic.

    Charge was the cherry on top. She knew she had unlocked it in the fight with the ogre and it had saved both her and her group. There was a reason she had invested so much time into learning it. One of the most important things for melee Classes¡ªor Spellblades¡ªwas the ability to close a gap, and she knew the skill would be incredibly useful.

    Reyleigh let out a shaking breath. Her body was still sore, her wounds still throbbing, but she could feel all of it healing faster by the sheer power she had gained. The blood was flooding through her veins, filling her with latent energy, and she could feel her body adapting. Her muscles were just a little bit stronger, her mind a little bit sharper and her power was champing at the bit to do her bidding. Even though she had her reservations¡ªand even a large amount of sheer terror flowing through her¡ªthe unhinged power of it all was intoxicating, and with a quiet realisation, she knew deep within herself that she couldn¡¯t wait to get more of it.

 Chapter 10 - Guests

    ¡°Rey, are you ok over there?¡±

    Owen had changed shifts with Purity at some point and both Harald and Owen were now standing a couple feet away from Reyleigh with similar expressions of worry, tinged with a small dose of excitement.

    ¡°Yeah¡­ It¡¯s just so much¡­ stuff. So many things to understand.¡± She looked down at her hands before clenching them. ¡°So much power¡­¡±.

    Harald walked over and touched her shoulder.

    ¡°Rey, what class did you get? The way you came back from that wound. The screaming when you touched the Orb. I¡¯ve never heard of anything like it¡­¡±

    For a sweet moment, Reyleigh contemplated telling the truth. She envisioned her friends crowding around her, fearing her Class at first, but quickly realising its potential and rejoicing with her. The mirage quickly shattered into a thousand pieces and harsh reality forced her to do what had to be done.

    She shook her head. Hesitating for but a moment, she lied smoothly.

    ¡°I got an elven Class. It¡¯s called Elven Warrior. You know how elves eat raw flesh, right? Well, I was drenched in it and it seems they don¡¯t do it just for fun¡­¡± Reyleigh looked down, fear warring with shame as lie after lie spewed from her mouth.

    She knew that the citizens of Unbern would shun, fear, and most importantly, remain unaware of an elven Class. The lie she had concocted would also reinforce the same preconceptions of savagery she had endured throughout her entire life. Last but not least, it was miles better than admitting to being a Blood Warrior.

    ¡°Shit.¡± Owen swore.

    Reyleigh raised her head and forced herself to meet the eyes of her friends.

    Harald took a step back in horror at her words, and Owen followed. Cold fear crawled through her insides at the sight of them recoiling from her mere presence. Terror must have shown on her face as Owen caught himself in the act and managed to stop half-way. His wide eyes and shocked expression flickering to disgust before he mastered himself, but not before she had seen it.

    Seen what her lie had done, and she knew within her soul that admitting the truth would have been so much worse.

    She raised her hand unconsciously as if she were grasping for her two friends, but let it fall as she reigned in her emotions the same way she had done a million times before. Letting them wash over her before she ruthlessly beat them into submission and buried them deep. When she was done Reyleigh felt numb. The only thing left inside her was icy anger and fear-induced pain. However hard she tried, those two feelings slipped through her grasp and replaced everything else. She could feel them eating away at her innermost places, eating at something close to her core.

    Something snapped, and she knew that she had lost something important in that moment. There was no more time to ruminate. Her former friends stood waiting for her to say something.

    ¡°Y..¡± her voice broke before she cleared her throat and tried again. ¡°Yes. It¡¯s not¡­ It¡¯s not good. But I¡¯m alive.¡±

    Silence followed her statement. Harald and Owen shared a look, and Reyleigh could spot the uncertainty that passed between them. The moment stretched on, the wind and birds their only accompaniment for a long time before Owen finally opened his mouth to speak. Reyleigh was shaking. The mess of anger and pain making her incapable of moving.

    A twig snapped.

    As one, the three of them turned to face it, hands on weapons.

    It was Purity. She jumped down from a nearby tree, and Reyleigh knew she had broken the twig on purpose. Her body had a fluid grace to it now that she hadn¡¯t had before gaining her Class. Her movements were too precise to allow her to make sounds like that unconsciously anymore.

    ¡°My ears are so much better now.¡±

    Purity explained as her eyes rested on each of them in turn.

    Reyleigh looked away and studied the ground.

    Purity paused, letting out a small breath.

    ¡°Your Class will help.¡±

    Rayleigh twitched as she felt Purity¡¯s hand on her shoulder. She continued studying the soft soil of the forest, unwilling to see another look of pure disgust directed at her.

    Purity¡¯s hand tightened and slowly drew her into a hug. At first, she was stiff, every muscle clenched in anticipation of hurt. But when no ridicule or violence followed the gesture, her muscles seemed to melt into the smaller girl¡¯s embrace.

    She sobbed.

    Snot and tears stained the soft leather armour she was hiding her face in. It didn¡¯t last long. She quickly re-erected the wall behind which her feelings had escaped, but this time the slippery cold anger and pain were slightly more subdued. A sense of wonderment blossomed inside her as she realised what that embrace had meant. She was not alone, and Purity at least would not abandon her. A tear rolled down her cheek. She nodded and sniffed before clearing her throat. She didn¡¯t know why the small girl¡ªwhich she had only just met¡ªhad done something like this for her, but in that instant, it didn¡¯t matter.

    ¡°Thanks Purity. It¡­ it means a lot.¡±

    ¡°Yeah, course you Class will help!¡± Owen put on some fake cheer as he joined in. ¡°It¡¯s probably powerful as all hell. Elves being what they are and all¡ª¡±

    Harald cleared his throat and spoke, too. ¡°Of course. Power is good, and it¡¯s better in your hands than the other ba¡ªother elves.¡±

    They were forcing it, and it hurt like hell. But at least they weren¡¯t attacking her, or contemplating it anymore.

    What if I had told them the truth? Would we be fighting now? Would I have to kill my friends?

    The implications of her new Class frightened her. The secrecy, the lies, the solitude. She shivered when her future flashed before her eyes. It would only get worse.

    The anger rose again, threatening to overwhelm her. Whatever she lost when she saw Owen¡¯s disgust prevented her from being able to stuff in behind the wall with the rest of her feelings. For a second she struggled before she realised that even though Purity had let go of their embrace, she was still holding her hand. The small palm enveloping her own squeezed softly. With that small gesture, the drowning anger turned into determination.

    She would survive.

    She would wield unimaginable power. She would prove herself. Prove that she could be useful, that she could repay Alistair for saving her and Purity for standing by her. Her Class would turn from a curse into a boon, and she would show them all.

    She clenched her fists, her nails digging into her palms. Being a watchman was probably not in the cards anymore. She would have to find another¡ª

    ¡°I hear something!¡± Purity hissed.

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    The warmth of her hand left Reyleigh¡¯s own when she crouched in a combat stance, her off-hand moving in strange patterns while her main hand clutched her mace.

    ¡°It¡¯s big. It¡¯s coming from there.¡± Her finger pointed behind the massive tree in which the dungeon resided.

    Reyleigh reflexively got ready for combat. She moved cautiously to the bags lying in a pile beside the fire. If something happened, she needed her weapon, and she saw her greatsword propped up against her pack.

    The sudden quiet within the clearing was deafening as she moved gracefully, trying to not to make a sound.

    While she stalked toward her sword and pack, Harald and Owen drew their weapons. The smaller man held both his long daggers in a reverse grip and was creeping towards a nook in the massive tree, perfect for an ambush. Harald readied his shield and stood in the open, trying to create an opening for his smaller friend. The instinctive teamwork was a sight to behold. They had trained and drilled to be prepared for these kinds of situations, but to see the result was still shocking in its efficiency. Purity moved towards her natural place behind Harald, not quite as seamless in her integration into the formation.

    Reyleigh knew she needed to position herself behind Harald as well and use her greatswords¡¯ reach to harass their foes if it came to battle. The last fight had been a scramble, but now that they had some warning¡ªand no Themis to stupidly give away their position¡ªthey could utilise their honed skills. Tightening her grip on the handle of her blade, she soundlessly drew it from its well-oiled sheath. Blood still slicked the blade, slowing the draw. It would need a scrubbing after this.

    Before moving into position, she bent down and grabbed her locket from its secured place within the lid of her pack, clasping it around her neck. She couldn¡¯t explain why she needed to do so, but the impulse felt entirely too right to ignore. She hoped the delay wouldn¡¯t cost her.

    Taking measured steps toward Harald¡¯s back, she froze when she heard leaves rustling behind her. With her sword ready, she turned around. She didn¡¯t dare cry out to warn the others in the tense silence without good reason, so instead she quickly scanned the treeline. Behind the thick foliage she caught the glint of steel.

    An ambush or help?

    Not sure what to make of it, she was just about to warn the others¡ªa scream at the ready¡ªbut as she was about to let all hell break loose; her scream turned into a gasp as a familiar face followed by polished armour brushed the branches clumsily aside.

    It was Themis.

    So much had happened since the fight with the ogre, so his original presence had basically slipped her mind. Seeing him now was not the blessing it should have been.

    Was he here to betray them? Or had he fled like a coward, leaving them to die? Had he gone to get help?

    So many questions ran through her mind, but none of them mattered, since she couldn¡¯t ask them without giving away their position. She put a finger to her lips, signing him to keep quiet and pointed towards where Harald was looming with Purity behind him. His sudden appearance fanned her uneasiness, and she resolved to keep him in her line of sight.

    Themis rolled his eyes at her obvious distrust. His exasperation was almost comical, seeing as he moved through the forest with no grace at all, as if he was trying to give away their position. Granted, his mangled left leg didn¡¯t do him any favours.

    He flashed her a disgusted look, which Reyleigh promptly returned. His demeanour really hadn¡¯t changed at all, even now.

    Themis gestured to his greatsword and made it clear he was there to fight. His armour¡¯s polished shine twinkled in the morning sun, announcing his presence to everything in sight, but dirty patches and dents thankfully marred it in more than a few places. A small gash was dripping fresh blood from Themis¡¯ temple, adding to the impression that his time alone had been anything but easy.

    Assured that despite his incompetent arrival, Themis seemed to be there to help, Reyleigh turned her back on him and took in the developing situation closer to the tree trunk.

    There were no visible enemies yet, but she could hear heavy footfalls. They were much too heavy to be human, and she gulped when she realised she could make out at least three pairs. It didn¡¯t take long before she finally saw what they were up against.

    ¡°Shit! Not again!¡± Harald swore, breaking the silence. His shout was loud by design in order to turn the intruder¡¯s attention toward him. ¡°They brought some green friends this time!¡±.

    Reyleigh spotted what Harald was referring to. Three ogres came lumbering around an outcropping in the tree trunk about a hundred meters from their formation. Owen was a little closer, but he was hidden in an indent, patiently waiting to ambush their enemies. Behind the ogres ran six small-statured humanoids about a third the size of a Harald. Long arms and pointy ears accompanied dirty linen clothes and primal jewellery adorning their filthy, emaciated bodies. They chittered amongst themselves, baring their needle-like teeth and spitting globules of drool all over themselves and the ground.

    Goblins were creatures of filth. They had featured extensively in the Watches¡¯ lectures due to their proclivity for attacking populated human settlements. Even though they seldom attacked Unbern itself anymore, they had been the downfall of all the attempts at starting satellite farming villages or outposts. The creatures themselves were neither strong nor clever, but they bred like rabbits and matured much faster than most other races. Because of their sheer numbers and virulent breeding habits, Goblins usually spawned several unique individuals that rose to lead the masses. This single trait made them a threat to be reckoned with. Unbern conducted regular forays to keep the population down and remove any uniques before they could gather an army.

    As far as Reyleigh knew, it wasn¡¯t the dungeons that spawned them near the city, but they still appeared frequently. Stories made them out to be akin to natural disasters, springing up as if they grew from the ground itself.

    The ogres were the same type as the one they had fought previously but without the sickly green colouring. This could mean that the one they had battled previously was a unique, making Reyleigh hope beyond hope that the new pack didn¡¯t have the same magical abilities.

    While analysing the monsters, she sped up her steps toward Harald and was just a few meters away. On instincts she surveyed the coming battlefield and realised retreat would be impossible, mostly because there weren¡¯t any good ways to get out of the clearing without the ogres and goblins catching up to them. Both species had a reputation for being excellent trackers and trail runners. The ogres were fast, and she knew from their lessons that they had almost unlimited stamina, so running back to Unbern was out of the question. The situation was one of life or death; either they triumphed here with their newly gained Classes and sheer grit or they all perished. She heard Themis swear behind her as he realised the same thing.

    Reluctantly, Reyleigh eyed the door to the dungeon. She had avoided looking at it until now, but she knew it would be their last hope if all else failed. Fleeing into a dungeon for safety was laughably stupid, but would remain as their absolute last resort.

    Finally, she reached her position a couple of meters behind and to the right of Harald. She was using him as cover so she could attack from relative safety at an unpredictable angle once the enemies arrived. Speaking of the lumbering brutes and their filthy hanger-on¡¯s, they had covered half the distance already and were speeding up.

    ¡°Reyleigh!¡±

    Themis ran up to her while she was getting into position. ¡°We need to get out of here. That ogre decimated us earlier and Alistair has obviously abandoned us to die. We need to go into the dungeon. The dungeon won¡¯t let foreign monsters inside and there are never enemies at the entrance! I¡­ I can¡¯t make it in there alone. Call the retreat! They¡¯ll listen to you!¡±

    He gestured to the others.

    Themis¡¯ pleading tone shocked Reyleigh to her core. He showed courage earlier against the other ogre, but also suddenly disappeared after the battle. Even if he tried to abandon them like a coward, she never thought he would admit weakness like this in front of them all.

    ¡°Be quiet! Harald is Taunting them. Follow his lead. The ogres look different from the one we fought earlier. I think they¡¯re normal. Keep behind me and use your fucking sword for something useful for once!¡± Reyleigh hissed back. ¡°And don¡¯t even think of running away again. You¡¯re a fucking watchman! We do not abandon each other.¡±

    His eyes widened at her vehement reply, but before he could retort, she turned her back to him.

    ¡°Come get your dinner, you ugly fucks!¡± Harald shouted just as the creatures descended upon him like a wall of meat and legs.

    With a massive bellow, he charged to meet them, his legs pumping and his shield leading the way. His massive muscles bulged as he braced for the coming impact and Reyleigh could hear the fabric of his armour strain as it threatened to rip. Reyleigh realised they hadn¡¯t had the time to hear what Class he had gotten¡ªwhich wasn¡¯t a surprise considering what had happened¡ªbut she still recognised the skill as Bulwark. It was a staple for most shield using classes and increased Harald¡¯s defence and resilience, making his skin and muscles hard to cut or bruise and amplifying his strength when using his shield.

    Reyleigh followed him at a set distance. She was faster and lither than the hulking frontliner which meant she easily kept pace. The tense atmosphere anticipating the impending bloodshed made her new powers stir inside her. She tried for a second to push them back down but realised she couldn¡¯t¡ªand wouldn¡¯t¡ªhide from her newfound skills.

    Lying dead in a pool of my own blood helps no one.

    With that resolution, she let her powers surge inside her. Blood Sense filled her nostrils with an intoxicating smell, while Blood Manipulation crashed through her veins like a river of fire, pumping energy into her muscles at a furious pace. Heady from the sense and smell of dry blood around her and on her, she could hardly contain her bubbling excitement. She felt the rising desire to release all her bottled-up feelings from behind the wall she had erected and make these creatures pay for what her life had become.

 Chapter 11 - Battle

    The feeling of her powers activating was bewitching. They sharpened her vision, deepened her hearing, made her sense the moving bodies around her, and let her mana connect to the lifeblood coursing through her veins. The vitality pumping within all the humans and monsters in her vicinity was like a drumbeat resonating deep within.

    She felt something drip from her chin.

    With a panicked shake of her head, she tried to clear the heady sensation from her dazed mind. She was baring her teeth, and saliva was dripping from them in anticipation of¡­ something.

    So, this is Blood Frenzy. Damn, that¡¯s scary¡­

    She felt the power of the feat like a thousand insects crawling under her skin. Making her hot, itchy and sensitive, the slightest touch felt like pain. Even though she recognised the feat at work, she couldn¡¯t stop it from affecting her.

    A small part of her consciousness screamed at her to fight the empowering feeling, telling her that she was being manipulated, that the blood sticking to her was disgusting and not the delicacy her senses made it out to be. But her ravaged mind¡ªstill reeling from the shock and grief of her friends rejecting her and the catastrophic damage her body had suffered¡ªwasn¡¯t up to the task. The cuts and bruises from the earlier fight no longer marred her skin, but she felt stretched and worn, which was compounded by her rising fear concerning Alistair¡¯s situation.

    She silenced the voice. And gave in.

    Before she realised what was happening, she pushed past the barrier that was Harald and barrelled straight at the closest ogre. Three steps later, she slammed into the creature like a runaway horse, her mind screaming at her to tear and rip into it with wild abandon. Thankfully, her body remembered what her mind did not, and the forms drilled into her over the last decade forced the haphazard attack into an actual manoeuvre. She swung her greatsword in a classic upward sweeping motion aimed at the ogres¡¯ side. Nothing fancy, but her mind wasn¡¯t up to anything else at the moment, and neither was the ogre a master combatant.

    The ogre¡¯s piglike eyes widened in acute pain when the blade hit home with a satisfying thud as it sliced flesh and lodged into the creature¡¯s bones. Reyleigh was dimly aware of wisps of red mist wafting from her body, and a primal stench of lifeblood accompanying it.

    It seemed like Blood Frenzy had a visual effect.

    Not up to the task of analysing her skills, her manic eyes bored into her opponent instead. The light of madness in them must have had an impact, since the ogre hesitated for a fraction of a second when it met her gaze. The opening covered for the frenzy and Reyleigh used it¡ªalbeit unknowingly¡ªto rip her sword savagely from its temporary bone-sheath. Blood and bone exploded from the wound.

    An open-ended smile stretched her mouth all the way to the edge, when she instinctively connected Blood Manipulation to the bloody spray and willed it to cover her from head to toe. The blood stopped in midair and turned like a snake¡¯s head toward its new master, before splashing against her body, face, and open mouth.

    The warm feeling of it on her body and the sweet taste in her mouth whipped her further into the blood-frenzy, causing her to lose every last one of her already dwindling inhibitions. With a crazed scream of glee, she batted a weak attempt at defence aside and stabbed her sword straight through the ogre¡¯s abdomen.

    Slow.

    Was all she thought before she followed the motion of the sword and used its momentum to climb onto it. She ignored the still flailing fists¡ªwhich had finally found purchase and were creating painful bruises on her sides. Barely noticing the tree-trunk like arms, she froze. The jugular vein lodged deep in the neck of the ogre was pulsing like a scared rabbit tight in front of her eyes. Her acrobatics with the sword had landed her face just a few centimetres from the mesmerising sight. Her smile turned into a nightmarish gash just before she bit down.

    Bliss!

    Absolute bliss assaulted all her senses. It was like being swaddled in a warm embrace. Shivering from delight, it felt as if she was within the womb, life-giving force suffusing her very being.

    Her mind started drifting away, the all-encompassing feeling making her lose her grip on reality. Just as she was about to fade away, one of her feats or abilities¡ªshe had no idea which one¡ªsank its hooks into her and grounded her senses. Her mind was still foggy, but the partial clarity made her aware of her own body. It felt strange¡­

    Just like when she lay delirious in Harald¡¯s arms, it was as if her perception tilted. Focusing on the unfamiliar sensation, she could suddenly feel every drop of blood that passed through her throat into and into her stomach. Somehow, the crimson liquid found its way from there into her own bloodstream and finally into her heart. The organ was beating hard and fast, pumping thick life-giving liquid with a frantic pace through her body.

    With a little bit of effort, she found that she could expand the new sense to encompass her entire body. Every vein and capillary, every organ and every muscle was just as present to her as her own skin.

    How am I feeling my own insides?

    Reyleigh was about to use her newfound clarity to stop the process and whatever was happening to her, but thought better of it when she felt energy enter her.

    It didn¡¯t enter her body directly. It was more like the energy was using her blood as a form of transportation into another place.

    Is the energy entering my soul? Or something else¡­

    The sense granted to her by one of her feats¡ªReyleigh now guessed Blood Sense¡ªcouldn¡¯t follow the energy farther than the valves of her heart before it suddenly lost track of it.

    Clearly, the foreign power found its destination.

    The exploration of her new sense happened in a few seconds, and Reyleigh realised that she had clung to the ogre¡¯s neck for all of it. In the back of her mind, she was dimly aware of her throat gulping and swallowing blood by the litre.

    The energy is coming from the blood. Shit! Is this Life Absorption? Is the energy life-force?

    Finally, the last of the fog clouding her mind lifted and she recouped her normal senses.

    A man¡¯s voice raised a blood-curdling scream. It wasn¡¯t the start of a scream, but rather the continuation of one. Just as she was about to lift her head and release her vice like grip on the ogre, a massive form crashed into her side. She couldn¡¯t breathe as her lungs stopped working, the air getting stuck inside her throat, forcing her to gag.

    She had no time to contemplate what she had just done, instead she forced her eyes open and found herself soaring through the air, hurtling toward the trunk of the colossal dungeon tree. A brief glimpse of a bloody ogre falling like a log towards the ground, with her sword still stuck in it, greeted her as she struggled to take in the scene before her.

    She saw Harald running toward another ogre standing beside its drained and falling comrade, a massive club in its arms at the end of a swing. Owen, with both daggers planted firmly in the last ogre¡¯s shoulder and Purity smashing her mace into the ground for some reason. Before she could process anything else, her back met the dungeon tree with splintering force. A loud crack rang across the battlefield as the terrifying impact ripped apart her back, causing her body to rag-doll.

    Blood shot out of her mouth as she tumbled to a stop. She had no feeling in her arms, nor her legs. She tried to scream from the terrible pain, but all she could do was gurgle as more rivers of blood gushed from her mouth. Darkness was creeping in on her for the second time in as many days. She almost smiled through the agony as she lamented her terrible luck, but before she could curse her fate, she felt the stolen energy within her explode inside her. The mysterious place of power near her heart, which was guzzling life-force a few seconds ago, was now expelling the same force at an explosive rate. Another type of crackling sound accompanied her spine as it righted itself. One of her arms, which she hadn¡¯t even felt a couple of seconds earlier, ripped a scream from her throat when it was forcefully yanked back into its socket. Bruises and scrapes were closing everywhere, as if time was reversing. Nausea wracked through her from the sickening sounds of her bones mending and resetting.

    The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

    How the fuck am I healing so fast? She thought, elation warring with hesitation.

    With the nerves in her body now functioning again, she let out a whimper and forced herself to her feet. Her newfound powers had performed a miracle, but she was not totally out of the woods yet. She could sense internal bleeding in numerous places and noticed severe bruising on her flesh where her bones had forcibly reset. No stranger to pain, she forced herself to her feet with a grimace.

    In the short time she had been lying on the forest floor, the battle had taken a turn for the worse. The ogre Owen had ambushed was propped up against the dungeon tree, a dagger protruding from its open maw, its eyes glazed over. Owen had paid dearly for the kill as he was laying at the corpses¡¯ feet screaming in pain, his left leg twisted the wrong way at the knee. Mad with pain and his face etched in agony, he desperately fought to keep two goblins away with his remaining dagger.

    Harald was slightly better off, as he was uninjured but still battling the third ogre. His lungs were like a blacksmith¡¯s bellows as he heaved and gasped for breath while shoving against the massive club he had caught by some miracle as the ogre swung at him. It was trying to crush him against the ground, but the hulking man wouldn¡¯t let it. Vines sprouted around the pair, trying but failing to trip or hinder the ogre. They flowed from where Purity had smashed her mace in the ground. Clearly, her magic controlled them.

    The ogre tensed its muscles and leveraged all its strength against the much smaller man. It roared in glee when it succeeded and the precarious equilibrium shifted in its favour.

    Finally, Reyleigh¡ªnow on her feet¡ªglanced to the side and saw Themis bleeding from several cuts as he danced around the one remaining goblin, almost tripping on the three goblin carcasses at his feet. He had clearly given as good as he got, but it wasn¡¯t enough as he too was flagging. The last goblin was clearly some kind of leader or Unique as it was far faster and more agile than its brethren harassing Owen. If Reyleigh didn¡¯t make a move, the last monsters would win. She could see it. All three fronts were losing, and there was still worse to come. Reyleigh felt more blood.

    Purity felt something, too. She snapped her head up from where her mace was lodged and sniffed the air. Like Reyleigh, she had sensed them¡ªor smelled them¡ªand without looking back; she ran away from the battle towards where the ogres and goblins had come from. She didn¡¯t even look back at her comrades as she disappeared around the corner of the massive tree. Reyleigh could see Harald¡¯s face drop when he saw the stalwart Tender disappear, but she didn¡¯t have time to reassure him and instead she broke into a stumbling run. Purity¡¯s vines were still grappling the ogre Harald fought, and even though he was losing the contest of strength, he would have to hold on a little longer. Owen was nearest to Reyleigh, and in a much worse position.

    Prodding a prodded a new but simultaneously familiar part of her mind, Reyleigh activated her only mana-based skill; Charge. Bones and flesh complained at the rough treatment, but held together, as she shot forward a dozen steps in one.

    As the skill ended, Reyleigh was halfway toward Owen, dimly aware that her sword was still lodged in the abdomen of the ogre she had drained. She burned with embarrassment, even in the harrowing circumstances. Losing one¡¯s weapon was an unforgivable offence in battle. Without a weapon, she would be forced to fight with her body instead.

    This is going to hurt

    Crouching slightly, her Charge skill activated again. There were many famous stories that featured unorthodox uses of the Charge skill, and one of the most popular ones utilised the curious way it related to body-mass. In the instant the skill activated, she balled herself up as much as she could from her crouched position, trying to resemble a cannon ball. The earth beneath her feet shifted, and with a painful crash, she impacted the much smaller goblin just as it was about to score another hit on Owen¡¯s downed form. A sickening thud reverberated through her battered body, caused by the monster now flying through the air like a puppet with its strings cut.

    Too bad I can¡¯t do that with anything near my size. Also, I can¡¯t believe it actually worked!

    While rejoicing, a surge of energy entered her, but before she could react to the strange sensation, another goblin engaged.

    Even though it worked, the battering manoeuvre had cost her, as several scrapes and bruises joined her collection from the massive impact. She could also feel her muscles screaming at her, the cost of the Charge skill becoming more apparent by the second. Clenching her jaw, she fought against the deteriorating state of her body and focused on her new opponent.

    The goblin had a dirty spear in one hand and a small wooden shield decorated with the skulls of animals in the other. If Reyleigh hadn¡¯t lost her greatsword, she would have made quick work of the much smaller opponent by leveraging her weapon¡¯s reach against it, coupled with her superior body mass. Now, however, she had no choice but to engage in hand-to-hand combat against an opponent wielding superior weaponry. The spear looked intentionally smeared in a thick liquid; the tip teeming with disease and filth. She had to avoid being scraped by the thing.

    Who knows what that this is infected with?

    The goblin made the first move while Reyleigh kept trying to find an opening. The small creature displayed some semblance of skill as it used its shield expertly to hide its body while it darted the spear at her from the side. Only a small part of the goblin was out in the open and Reyleigh couldn¡¯t help but marvel at the discrepancy between the creature¡¯s appearance and the actual skill it displayed.

    Thankfully, the spear jab lacked discipline compared to the shield stance, allowing Reyleigh to easily sidestep the spear. As her body pirouetted to the side, she closed the distance toward the goblin¡¯s non-shield flank. Using her size against it, she turned the momentum into a grapple, her arm darting out and ensnaring the small skull in the crook of her elbow. The manoeuvre was decidedly dangerous and would leave her open to the now flailing spear, however; she was not going to let it flail around for long. With a tremendous surge of strength, she twisted her torso as sharply and decisively as she could. Trained in hand-to-hand combat for years, she was no amateur even compared to those few who chose to forgo weapons altogether. Her strength and training served her well yet again, a sharp crack vibrating against her elbow as the goblin¡¯s neck snapped.

    Again, energy seeped into her very being, and for the second time, she ignored it.

    Heaving and trying to push air into her lungs, she turned toward Owen. He had managed to limp into a half standing position and was leaning against the tree sporting a few new bruises.

    ¡°Help Harald!¡± Owen shouted towards her as he pointed to where the big man was fighting.

    ¡°I will!¡± Reyleigh shouted back. ¡°Stay here. I¡¯ll come get you, ok?¡±

    ¡°I¡¯ll manage Ray. Just go!¡± Owen franticly shouted.

    As she turned around, she saw that the fight had progressed, which led to the now dismal state of Harald a few meters away. The arm usually holding his shield was broken and hanging limply against his body. Sweat slicked his hair and covered his face, which was marred in an expression of terrible agony as he threw his body away from a massive club descending upon him. It wasn¡¯t the first time he had dodged the thing, either. Reyleigh could see several places where the club had dug massive grooves into the earth from its earlier impacts.

    He was keeping death at bay for the moment, but it was a losing battle, as the ogre seemed inexhaustible and unwilling to let its prey escape. Its dead comrades littering the ground were no deterrent.

    Reyleigh forced her legs to move, desperation fuelling her. She could tell that she had another use of Charge left in her, even though it would hurt her body even more. Also, she hadn¡¯t lost control from the blood and carnage around her again either, which was a tremendous relief. She pressed the memory of her berserker-state to the back of her mind¡ªor tried to.

    The warm blood flowing down her throat. The bliss accompanying the power filling her¡ª

    Ripping her mind away from the intoxicating memories, she forced her tired mind to focus on the task at hand. Her body wouldn¡¯t hold together for more than a single Charge, and she had to make it count.

    First, she needed a weapon. Her greatsword was still stuck in the ogre on the other side of the field. Frantically, she cast about for a substitute. The short swords and spears of the goblins were too different from her usual weaponry to be of any use. She¡¯d rather use her hands and feet if she couldn¡¯t find anything else. Scanning the vicinity, her eyes stopped on a crude club one of the ogres had wielded. She had no idea how it had ended up so far from any of the bodies, but she wasn¡¯t complaining. The club was lying between her, and the ogre Harald was fighting. The pair had moved during their fight as Harald desperately tried to keep as much distance as he could between them. Even though his panic, he was deliberately trying to turn it so that it had its back to her. She couldn¡¯t help being impressed.

    Making her decision she activated Charge. With the now familiar warping sensation, she sped up to unimaginable speeds and soon found herself standing over the crude club. Straining her muscles, she lifted the massive thing. To her surprise, it almost shot toward her as she overcompensated for its perceived weight. She didn¡¯t have time to analyse if it was her newfound strength or a trick of the club that made it lighter than she thought before she turned toward the last remaining ogre.

    Exhausted and empty from the last Charge she threw caution to the wind and lifted the club over her head in an act of pure brutal force. She had never trained with blunt weapons, but she knew she had the strength to crush the ogre as long as she could hit it. Summoning the last of her reserves, she ran toward the fighting duo.