I couldn’t conjure such a vision, even when I took a tab for the first time I couldn't imagine such crazy things. A wry smile crept along my downturned face, but it vanished quickly. Even with the wind at my back, I still felt like I had gone precisely nowhere. Still, I marched. I remembered all the times these senses would drown me out as I stormed out my family’s house. What was that lovely hag’s favorite saying about me?
Tyler’s got the good looks and charm. Caleb’s got, well, whatever was left. As for Willow… She’s just a waste to even give food to and quite ugly to look at, isn’t she?
It was strange, remembering the precise moments that simultaneously made me scream for attention and to be invisible. I didn’t have the dark hair I have now, but I dyed it black. No one cared. I didn’t have perfectly smooth skin like this body had either, but I caked myself in white face paint to hide the pock marks that cratered long tracts on my face and back.
I wanted to be different, to be seen, but when I was seen, people found it impossible to befriend me. It was difficult for most to even look at me. I could remember all of the hurtful things that hag said to my face and about me behind my back, wanting to hide. When she shipped me off to my grandfather in the countryside after the millionth time I’d run away or gotten into a fight, it was the last time I wanted to be different. And it was also the last prominent thing I remembered besides dropping out.
Memories of that old life, be it the bottle that ended me or anything between, was akin to trying to catch a leaf in the storm and placing it on the tree it came from. That is to say, quite impossible. I remembered staring at the blank calligraphy paper my grandfather got me, and just finding it utterly like me: Boring and plain. Nothing there. How would I dare to think of practicing how to be a person through it, to express myself, or to even practice discipline? There wasn’t much to go back to, if I could go back to that. I didn’t want anyone to know how much of a waste I was back then anyways.
As I spiraled, the sun disappeared behind a thick blanket of fluffy clouds that were coloured like the bottom of an egg carton. That is to say, gross and probably going to leak something unwanted out of it.
I pulled the Oblivion Staff out and used it as a cool walking stick to distract myself. The past was the past, after all. Right now, I had a sinking feeling that the Ravenclasts might be the new problem that I’m running from. There were some heavy hitters in there and I bet they had plenty of tricks up their sleeves.
But things were different, right? I just survived a Rift, all by myself. Two Rifts, actually. Leveling up seems like a cheat to me, but I used the Plus Menu to win. The fact that I healed that big dinosaur proved that I could do things. Even if he didn’t really seem to care if I healed him and took off the moment he could run. Those were things that I could do. Unseen or not, I did something and got stronger because of it.
As I was busy pep talking myself, the smell of pitch, wood and blood burning crawled into my nose. Hm? Trouble has arrived to me so soon? Sure enough, a small little tendril of black smoke was reaching up to the sky. A battle had happened here. I crept up the hill, but there was not much to hide myself behind. A sense of dread crawled up my skin. Was I scared of the enemies that might show up? Or perhaps was I scared of what I might have to do to them?
As I moved uphill towards the source of smoke, I discovered the remains of a large wagon blocking the way, flipped on its side and burning on the other side. Based off of the dead horses facing towards, me, it seemed they were headed this way but got unlucky. A furrow of ash and burnt grass scarred the land. I wasn’t a detective, but the way it veered off and that two of its wheels were snapped completely told me someone deliberately drove it off the road in an ambush. The charred bodies surrounding it presumably were the passengers or escorts. All dead. Not a single one of them was moving.
I plunged the Oblivion Staff in the dirt and knelt down to scan the closest corpse. Fires crackled and sparks clung to its skin and fabric, and I smelled more burned grain and ash than melted flesh. A nameless hunter with a big fat [Dead] tag floating above him like a virtual tombstone. This was a party of dead Hunters whose uniforms were too burnt to be recognized by my Plus Menu’s tags. Slightly inconvenient, but they were dead and couldn’t tell me who got them. Maybe they were headed towards the Rift I just closed and got killed for their trouble. Sorry about that, pal, I scoffed.
What kind of monsters did this? I feigned concern to myself and shook my head. Human or actual ones from the Rift? Noticing that their bodies were looted, I assumed that humans, maybe those Adventurer types, had gotten to them. It didn’t take long for the true killers to show themselves. Laughter rounded the corner and a group of eight men emerged. As soon as they saw me, the laughter died.
The biggest guy squared his shoulders, halting his men. Several of them looked at each other with various expressions ranging from weary to outright nervousness. Several backed up unconsciously and others gripped their shoddy weapon. They were sizing me up, which amused me. I was a tiny girl compared to them. As if I was a force to be reckoned with. Smart, but why? My eyes glanced at the skull fixed to the top of my black staff. Even the smoke bent around it; the thing was not even trying to be subtle about its ominous qualities. Right. I guess that this beauty was the reason why.
A growling voice, gruff and full of false bravado, came through the big guy’s forest of a beard.
“You ain’t with the others, or with that tall storm of a woman who blew by us awhile ago,” he pointed out. I said nothing, but I had an inkling of who he was talking about. His scarred fist gripped the handle of a mean-looking axe at his side. “That iron don’t look like what a priest lugs around.”
Me, a priest? A sense of indignation welled up inside me. He was probably probing to see how dangerous I was, but I had no intention on negotiating. Secretly, I was hoping the staff would scare them away. Unfortunately, I guess when one slays a Hunter party and steals their stuff, a lone straggler carrying something valuable might outweigh the risk. Behind him, I heard one whisper to another, who was itching his elbow.
“Only the one. Don’t spook.”
A tendril of smoke billowed between us as the leader spoke again.
“We don’t want no trouble,” he said cautiously, but his silhouette was getting larger and larger through the haze. “Just let us bury our friends here.”
A fool would panic. But I covered my mouth with a damp sleeve. I could see his Status clear as the grey sky above us. His intentions couldn’t be more obvious.
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+
Flynt
Human Fighter, level 12
+
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Steps were approaching from behind me as well. A coordinated attack. Tsk! Something like a dull groan rumbled through the haze behind Flynt. Then a wet crackle before hissing tightened through air. I saw the flash before it tore through the ash. A bright, angry orange sphere formed then shot out, shoving the smoke aside. It was no bigger than the size of a tennis ball, served directly at me. At the same time, the furious stomping of desperate men came from behind me, drawn metal ringing in their hands.
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Unfortunately, everything was happening in slow motion to me. I sidestepped the tiny fireball, which had grown into the size of a basketball. Its groan turned into a roar, slamming into the side of the downed wagon like a furious axe swing. Splintered boards the size of shields flung out, but I moved again.
Before the glint of that mean axe could reach me, I pulled out the Howler’s Dagger and threw it as I spoke for the first time.
“[Force Away].”
The golden light pierced the soot, straight through my bones and slamming into the careless men. And just like that, Flynt was sent flying, becoming a hood ornament. I realized [Force Away] wasn’t so harmless after all. His axe still was crashing down on me, but I stupidly lifted my staff to block it. The blade missed my staff and sank towards my arm, but bounced off something. Then I saw it. The faint outline of the Conqueror’s Wrap shimmered around my wrist before fading away.
Holy shit.
I stepped over the small crater I made and marched toward my handiwork. Several pieces of him were stuck to the wagon’s side. He was still alive, the majority of his body and head was struggling and attached to the front end of the wagon. Though a lot of things were wrong with him. His three friends that coordinated an attack fared no better, crumpled on the ground beyond the radius of the wagon’s wreckage. One was even tumbling downhill, leaving a trail of bloody splotches everytime his body bounced.
Pained groans mixed in with the fire’s crackling, along with the horrified gasps from the other men that didn’t charge with him. I slowly walked towards Flynt, whose grey forest covered chin was now stained with new spurts of red. His eyes were wide, terrified at the sight of what must’ve seemed like a demon holding a horrifying staff approaching him through the wreckage.
[Force Away] shoved the residual smoke aside, letting the whole class of bandits and murderers see what I was about to do to him. His eyes desperately glanced towards a certain direction, his pained grunts and gasps curdling into fearful whimpers. I looked leisurely with him, only to see the guy who threw the fireball at me collapsed on the ground. The Howler’s Dagger got him square in his chest, nailing his arm with it. I remained stoic and terrifyingly calm, even as the light died in Flynt’s eyes as he looked at me.
I was beginning to understand the terror I could cause by simply not reacting to the deeds I’ve done to weaker people, as if I was simply a mere passerby. That was strength, right? I was getting stronger. Even as I raised the Oblivion Staff above my head, even as his cries for mercy turned into a crushed bowl of brown and red soup sloshing around where his neck was, I knew that something had fundamentally changed within me. I knew that I was the true murderer out of all of them. Did it happen during my time in the Labyrinth Rift? Or was it there at the start when I discovered the Plus Menu?
I clicked my tongue and muttered to myself bitterly. “Whatever.”
I turned to face the others, the skull on my staff dripping after drinking the murderer’s face, who were already running and tripping over themselves to retreat. I think— I think they had to go. There were only six left, and they were slow. I ripped the Howler’s Dagger out of the fireball thrower’s body, barely registering the sickening sound of it ripping through his flesh. Despite the burning spell and fiery mess he caused, he was long gone and cold.
It was time for this Hunter to do some hunting on her own, huh?
I found and dragged the last one back to the neat little pile I’d built up. He was a smart one, opting to run the other way to create a diversion for his friends. Unfortunately for him, I couldn’t heal him no matter what I tried and even worse for his luck— he was too slow. Night fell. As it turned out, they led me to a small little hideout in a patch of trees and bushes nearby where I found all the stuff they took from those dead Hunters. How kind of them! Those guys were quite generous, leaving their newfound wealth just for me. I used the Oblivion Staff to stop his legs from working and tossed him unceremoniously on top of his friends.
“Banthony,” I read his name aloud in front of him. “What a weird name. You can’t blame me for hunting you guys down. I can’t have rumors ruining my reputation, you know. Besides, I wanted to test something out on you.”
I looked at his Status. Mister Banthony was indeed a Human Fighter, however, he was not a Hunter. Therefore, I had to experiment on him.
He looked at me defiantly and ignored whatever I said, but a flicker of fear shined in his eyes brightly. I was immune to that look— it was the same face the other guys gave me before they went into the pile.
”[Basic Healing],” I said the Skill name.
Light magic poured out my arm and blinded the bastard, but of course, I was hit with bad news. Invalid target. Even the other magic spells didn’t work. It confirmed my suspicions yet again. My magic doesn’t work on humans. I didn’t even get status points. I sighed. Some healer I am.
Was the Plus Menu making me into a joke? My eyes looked at the bodies. Nothing but a pile of [Dead] tags popped up over their stinky corpses. I dealt with them easily after turning their leader into a pancake. And I felt nothing. I should feel monstrous, or at least feel a little guilty. But all I saw were translucent blue screens and felt my body growing stronger.
Perhaps, the Plus Menu’s healer class was a way to keep me from going too far. Yet, here I was. Complaining to myself over nothing and thinking about numbers and Skills. I was far beyond that point of feeling guilty. No regret. And secretly, I think that the bandits deserved it. I distracted myself by rubbing sticks together, attempting to make a fire. But my mind was elsewhere and I wished I had a lighter instead.
“You… Hunter…” He rasped. The stick I was working on snapped when I looked at him.
“Oh, so you guys can talk,” I muttered. I've really gone too far to care now. “What’s your last words, Banthony?”
“You are all the same,” he suddenly tumbled to the ground, crawling towards me by pulling himself with his arms. I stood up and frowned, pulling the Howler’s Dagger out of my Item Box. It didn’t deter him, so into his neck it went. He gurgled out. “The Butcher, Master Giselle— She was here. She will find you. And…”
Oh? I pulled the knife out of him and tossed it into the Item Box. So they did see her swing by here. Or more accurately, they hid from her. I ditched the sticks. Camping out in the woods next to some dead guys could wait. For now, I scrolled through the new loot I’ve acquired in the Item Box, scavenged from this little camp. The weapons were tier 1, Common, and generally useless, so I didn’t bother with them. On the other hand, I now had multiple sets of clean clothing. Great. The Item Box was looking full.
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+
Item Box (14/20)
> Adventurer Attire
> 2x Worn Hunter Garb
> 4x Chipped Bloodstone [1]
> 3x Chipped Bloodstone [2]
> 2x Chipped Bloodstone [3]
> 1x Bloodstone Shard [4]
> A Prince’s Invitation Key
> Stormfang Sword
> Howler’s Dagger
> Emissary’s Horn
> 328x coins
> Oblivion Staff
> Leah’s Skull
> Leather Bag
+
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Those coins seemed to be made out of silver and gold. Common little treasures. I had no idea how much they were worth, but I imagined a bag of them wouldn’t get very far based on zero evidence or experience. If I had 328 dollars in my old world, it would be whisked away and spent in a heartbeat.
With the loot stored, I was ready to move onward to the town I saw while getting rid of these guys. When I stood up, something rustled in the bushes. I instantly had my hand on the Howler’s Dagger, dropped from the Item Box. I saw something fluttering away in the darkness. A butterfly? I sighed, then tossed the blade back into storage. It was alarming how dependent I’ve become on this Item Box— even bugs were scaring me now.
As I emerged from the stinky hideout, I headed back on the empty road. Despite the plains being clear and conspicuously clean of bandit filth, I felt like something was watching me. I wanted to take the time to edit my stats in the Plus Menu on the way to save some time, but it seemed like I had to be prepared for anything. In retrospect, I should have cashed in the points back in the hideout, but it stank in there. So out on the path I went.
As my steps crunched the frosty dirt beneath them, I realized that my surroundings were getting darker and darker until I couldn’t see the sky anymore. Nor could I see the distant torch lights dotting the stone walls. Something was wrong. My footsteps landed on a stone floor. What the hell? A grey coloured butterfly flittered into the distance, shimmering with a faint light despite the darkness I found myself in. I quickly checked the Plus Menu notifications.
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+
Notifications
> Multi-kill! Host has slain 9 Human Fighters and 1 Human Mage!
> Host has gained 300 status points! [Total: 315 status points]
> Encountered a Iron Butterfly. It has been added to the Database.
Iron Butterfly
Insect Mage, level 5
(Ravenclast Familiar)
[Dark Element]
> Host has acquired the effects of Skill: Dark Pit Teleportation.
> Host has been relocated!
+
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Really, I frowned at the stupid bug as it flew away. Even the bugs in this world had levels and one of them had managed to get the better of me! I would be happy over my new points, but this? Putting me in a pit, right before I reach civilization? Rude! Did the owner of that bug find out that I got rid of all those guys? I scoffed, but then my boot bumped into something I couldn’t see lying on the floor. Something that was slimy, jiggling after I kicked it.
And whatever it was woke up.