Traditionally, the Dokkalfar do not bury their dead and instead they cremate them. This is because of the limited space underground where they can live. For the noble houses, there are crypts in their subterranean cities where they store the ashes of their honored dead. For the common folk, there are community crypts and tombs to store their loved ones. It is said that some noble tombs have the enslaved spirits of those that betrayed or lost favor with their kin.

On the surface, Dokkalfar follow the customs of where they lived, though there are many who planned their cremation long before they drew their final breath.

This pragmatic burial rite of the Dokkalfar has led to some fascinating developments. It is rare to acquire the body of a Dokkalfar, which makes it unlikely for resurrection…or more likely reanimation to occur. In the darker corners of the world, the trade of Dokkalfar body parts can demand a king’s ransom. One can only imagine how much a whole Dokkalfar body, or even their mind and soul, would fetch.

Perhaps I have strayed too close to the shadows for now.

~ Journal entry on Dokkalfar Funerary Rites by Magdi the [Skald]

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The flickering of the scrolls passed before her eyes, and the book left her hand. Serena stared at the book in wonder as it flipped to face her. The silver fastenings opened with ease and pages flipped until it landed on something that was strange.

[As a Godkin, you have access to various tasks, agendas, investigations, crafting and gathering requests, discovery and exploration requests, among many other optional goals, beyond what is normally allowed by the Divine Will. The term [Quests] was created as a catch all term to describe this experience. There is an [Area Quest] going on in the Aranea village region of Lavera. Would you like to see what this Quest is?]

Serena and Mafuyu shared a glance, and the spirit motioned for her to continue the conversation. Helgi appeared to be stunned silent as her jaw dropped. She looked between the book and Serena in awe and fascination.

“Tell me about this Quest.”

[Area Quest: Eliminate the Blinded Bear gang. Reward: 100 gold pieces, 200,000 Essence, Potential claim to Aranea region, an unknown title, an unknown skill, an unknown trait, and an unknown perk.]

“Accept this Quest,” Mafuyu demanded. His tone held curiosity but also an eagerness that took her aback.

What about this captured his attention? Serena thought, before deciding to question the book. That thought was ludicrous to her, but the book was intercepting whatever this Divine Will was attempting to do to her. The tome and Mafuyu were also connected, just as she was to the book, so there might be a way to deconstruct this for their own ends in time.

“Is it possible to have help with this task?”

[All Quests that the Godkin undertake can be taken with others. However, the rewards the members of the [Party] gain vary on many factors.]

Serena took that as she could get help, but the mechanics behind this ominous Divine Will were being dishonest because of their vagueness. Still, it was something she could take advantage of.

“Is there a limit to when a [Party] can be formed? If I was about to complete a Quest, could I add more people to my party?” This would affect many of her potential plans, and Serena hoped to get a more concrete answer.

[Party members can be replaced at any time. However, it is hard to say what the upper limit is to a party. This would require deliberation.]

Or in other words, I broke the mechanics of this Divine Will by making it think. I wonder how far I can push this.

A morbid thrill blossomed within her as she realized that this Divine Will was not infallible and could even be considered faulty by design. It clearly favored the Godkin, whatever that was, more than the rest of the world. While it did so, it ensured that the common folk felt blessed or otherwise secure. At least enough to not want to break free of its hold.

Normally, Serena would have had some respect and politeness to anything that claimed to be divine. But if the local deities were pushing shoddy merchandise that seemed set to condition others to be reliant on their Will and themselves, then they were more troublesome than they were worth.

Those were all things Serena could consider later on. For the moment, she had to eliminate an unknown number of attackers. The Quest was also vague about if the entire gang was here.

If Serena had been the one raiding this village, she would have sent in the muscle first to clean out the threats and to corral the villagers to the center of the village. Then she would send in those who specialized in analyzing an item’s worth, along with those who were charismatic to negotiate with the survivors. This was the quickest and cleanest way of taking over a location, getting the wealth that was desired, all with the least amount of hassle.

Naturally, these buffoons couldn’t even handle something as simple as overtaking a village right.

There was wanton destruction of lives and property. It was a shameless display of one’s desire to harm others, and one that served no point as it put anything that could be of worth in this village at risk of being lost.

Serena couldn’t understand people like this. If you were going to disrupt other’s lives, then make off with your ill-begotten goods. You shouldn’t stick around and burn the place down when you are still inside it.

Fools like this were incurable, and there was only one real choice if she wanted to escape this place largely unscathed.

“I accept this Quest. Helgi of Aranea and Mafuyu will assist me,” Serena said, drawing the attention of both of them.

[Three Party members have been recorded, though with great difficulty. May the blessed gods lighten your path.]

The writing faded, though Serena picked up words that seemed linked to functions that still worked: Inventory, Skills, Perks, Traits, Status, Abilities, Passives, Boons, and Banes.

The only one that Serena had the faintest idea about was inventory, though that was in part of her handling the supplies and merchandise that went through the sect’s headquarters. She had to have gotten used to the storage, stock and inventory when she worked on her crafts as well. It was only logical that it would work the same here.

Though logic might be a rare thing here.

The book floated down until it touched her shadow, and to her amazement, it melded into it. She felt that the book connected to her at that moment, molding to her energy and mind. Serena reached out her hand along with her mind, and hoped it would reappear in her hand.

In a rush of tangible shadows, the tome reappeared like it had always been there. She unsummoned the tome, and it vanished back with the tendrils of darkness.

What a cute little trick, Serena thought with an almost child-like glee.

“Lady Serena, you are a Godkin?” Helgi questioned. She seemed shy about asking that, though it didn’t distract from the hopefulness she displayed.

Serena was hesitant about answering such a question, as she knew so little about what that actually meant. “So it would appear.” Her words were more mumbled and lacked the confidence she wanted to express. Thankfully, Helgi didn’t pay that any mind.

Excitement colored her features as life seemingly returned to her. “I have only heard rumors about Godkin. I never expected that they could be so magnificent.”

It took every ounce of Serena’s self control not to gape like a fool at the tanned young woman. She didn’t even do anything except nearly die trying to save her life, but Helgi seemed to see her as a living legend.

A soft, contemplative sigh from her ghostly companion was all the warning she had before he revealed his tremendous insight into the workings of a villager’s mind. “She is a fanatic.”

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Well, yes. That seemed obvious given the environment that the Divine Will seemed to have been fostering. Though, that implied Godkin were intricately linked to the gods pulling the strings. Perhaps they were the chosen blessed individuals?

There was no meeting with the divine, holy or unholy, when she arrived. And there was not sign of their possible interference with her arrival. Well, outside of possibly arranging it so she would arrive at the edge of a village under attack.

Her eyes narrowed in thought as that was something new to consider. Theoretically, she was just as likely to wind up at any other location. But it brought here her…

This could have been a test to see how she approached the task, but then that would imply that something was watching her movements.

The mere thought of being observed for some unknown purpose was unsettling.

Perhaps these Godkin could be from other worlds like herself. Or maybe some of them were native, while others had knowledge and powers that were unheard of.

It might explain how the mechanics behind this Divine Will seemed to alter it as peculiarities arose.

Serena shook her head in an attempt to clear her mind, then went through some of her bags to look for the masks.

They were black cloth masks that would cover the lower face. The straps at the sides would go over the ears of most of the common humanoid races, but most important was the enchantments she had woven into them.

The various enchantments dealt mainly with air filtration and purification, as they protected against certain kinds of airborne contaminants.

It prevented someone from succumbing to the tactic she was about to use on the village.

Serena showed Helgi how to put them on before wearing her own. The next step was removing a large vial that looked to have swirling faint mist within it.

Slumbering Mist, as she called this utility alchemical creation, was designed to swiftly send those who breathed in the substance into a deep sleep. This slumber lasts for up to one day, though those under the effect can be awoken early. While this tool was commonly used before intensive healing sessions, Serena intended to put the whole village to sleep.

From there, it would be easy to eliminate the bandit threat without risking their own lives.

Serena walked to the closest village entrance and pointed the vial toward it. She carefully removed the stopper and concentrated on infusing her aether into the mist as it spiraled outward. In a handful of seconds, a fine mist covered the street and moved out into the buildings, alleyways and side streets.

The sound of fighting quieted as the sound of bodies hitting the dirt paths reached her. However, she slipped in some hallucinatory effects in case someone resisted the sleep aid.

Mafuyu floated beside her, a baleful grin on his face as he realized what she had done. He handed her a small bag that jingled as it passed from his spectral hand to her tangible one. It seemed there was some kind of coinage in the bag. However, he kept the longsword, leaving her with the bloodthirsty and likely cursed dagger for defense.

“Don’t kill the villagers,” Serena said to Mafuyu.

“No promises.”

Serena ignored the murderous specter and turned her attention to Helgi with a soft smile. “I hate to say this to you, but you will need to tell us who is a villager and who is a bandit. You do not have to be the one to kill them. All you need to do is tell me which is which.”

Helgi paled slightly at this task, but led the way through the mist.

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A thick mist settled upon Aranea village, and quickly overtook his fellow bandits. However, even the townspeople weren’t spared from being swallowed whole by the strangely soothing mist. One by one, they dropped to the ground. Within ‌a few seconds, Raivo and a handful of others were the only ones awake.

Raivo was a simple man. He went where his brother sent him to and left the thinking to him. He relied on his ferocity and physical strength for everything, but this current situation was pissing him off.

His brother would have probably cursed the gods if he was here instead of him, but Raivo never saw a reason to care about some being from on high. After all the women he bedded, willingly or not, there was no comeuppance or sign of displeasure from the gods.

He would even argue they would want everyone to live how they wanted, even at the cost of others. It was the greatest delight to the gods to see their blessings in use, or so it seemed to him.

It was either that or the gods did not exist and the Divine Will was some machinations created by a mortal who was far stronger than him. There was no reason to think about it and possibly get said being’s attention brought to him.

However, there were tangible things that could chill his blood.

One villager that he had cut in half groaned and dragged his body toward him. His eyes were clouded, signs of his death, and his guts trailed behind him like a morbid cape.

Raivo took two steps back in response, trying to get away from it.

A shrill creaking noise came from his armor, and the sword he clutched in both hands was trembling uncontrollably.

Although he was filled with fear, Raivo didn’t run.

There was no escape from an [Necromancer] who had access to hundreds of bodies.

Raivo’s eyes shifted, pleading for help.

This square was at the center of the village, where Raivo had gathered the surviving two hundred villagers. Before the mists came, they had looked fearfully at him and his men. Now they slept with an innocence that belonged to babes.

Raivo’s forces searched the houses, and then, in order to root out anyone who was hiding in the cellars, they poured in alchemical oils and set them on fire.

The massacre had taken a fair bit of time, but it had been successful, and they had gathered the surviving villagers into one place.

Deep within the mist, screams that were painfully cut short echoed and distorted until it reached him.

Raivo swallowed back his urge to scream and flee at the oppressive terror and shifting figures in the mist.

A black gale whirled past the field of Raivo’s vision.

A nimble figure clad in a black hooded cloak appeared for only a moment. An arc of silver brilliance cleaved the body of a bandit in two. The bisected left and right halves of his body collapsed in opposite directions. A sour stench filled the air as his internal organs spilled out.

The figure, around the size of a human or elf, which were common in Lavera, tilted their head back and laughed.

The laughter was filled with exhilarating joy.

Raivo could tell this man, as his laughter revealed, was delighted at the chance of causing destruction and bringing chaos. While he would have recruited such a person into the Blinded Bear gang before this moment, Raivo finally understood how his previous victims felt.

As an overwhelmingly superior slaughterer, this cloaked man savored the despair and terror of the pitiful humans who could not even survive a single one of his blows.

Nobody dared attack, though they had swords in hand.

The first bandit to run was Arieh. He was a nice guy but a terrible drunk. His limbs were chopped off, followed by his head.

After seeing the death, the other bandits knew they would be killed if they tried to run.

The only thing they could do was wait their turn to be tortured to death.

Everyone present was keenly aware of their fate. The wails of grown men reduced to children echoed throughout the village.

“Get a grip!” Raivo’s shout tore through their wailing. The world was filled with silence, as though time was standing still. “Buy me some time. I’m not dying here, so fight for your lives!”

Everyone moved in an instant.

There was no sign of their earlier panic. Everyone moved in silent unison, like a raging waterfall.

Their mechanical obedience to their orders without thinking created a miracle. There was no way they could move so immaculately again.

The bandits each did what they were supposed to do. They had to protect Raivo.

Raivo lowered his sword and withdrew a horn from his bag. Beor had given it to him in case they needed support before he arrived tomorrow.

The cloaked figure vanished into the mist, before several of the standing bandits were cut in half. He seemed to desire dragging this conflict out, which puzzled Raivo.

The flood of darkness drew closer and closer, and everyone knew that stepping forward to try and stop it was certain death. However, the bandits still climbed over each other to block the slayer one after the other. An even greater fear for the Blinded Bear Brothers wiped their fear of him away and they surged forward to become obstacles.

Every time its blade flashed, a human was cut in two.

“Behead the fallen! Hurry, before they come back as undead!”

The surviving bandits stared at Raivo as if he lost his mind.

“There is no undead here, nor is there a [Necromancer] present.”

Raivo’s eyes widened slightly as he paused in raising the horn to his lips. He looked down at the bisected man that was clinging to his leg, groaning demonically, and he didn’t know what to trust.

The slayer swiftly eliminated them with clean cuts across their throats. Blood sprayed, dying the mist crimson, as they joined the dead.

Before he could blink, searing pain spread throughout his sword arm. The sound of something hitting the ground with a wet plop forced him to look down to where his sword and entire arm was. A scream tore itself from his throat, raw and primal. It ended shortly as numbness swallowed him whole.

Raivo watched fearfully as the hooded man stood before him. The mist and his hood obstructed much of his features, though he could make out the sickly pleased grin on his face. It stood out against the ashen gray color of his skin, a relatively uncommon hue even for the Dokkalfar.

The man’s silver blade shimmered in the faint light that pierced the mist, and Raivo closed his eyes as pain exploded in his remaining arm. Without looking, he was aware that this man had now crippled him.

There was no escape.

That realization forced Raivo to open his eyes and look at his attacker.

The potential Dokkalfar swung his silver blade.

In an instant, the world before Raivo spun, and he saw his decapitated corpse collapse to the ground.

The last sensation he experienced was the sound of the horn.