Casting a curse, as a Hexcaster ought to do, I addressed the man kneeling a few meters away. "Don't waste your energy," I said. "Today, I, Arianna, will kill you, Seventh King Alexander. I will do so either with you fighting back or you obediently surrendering to the merciful death I have for you."

The man seemed to take the news as if considering my latter proposition. He didn't move an inch, but I knew him well enough, having spent over a century at his side, kinda, to know that wasn't the case. His gaze lifted to meet mine, and his expression was one I could only describe as calculating. He seemed to be weighing his chances, and from the frown he couldn't fully repress, I could tell the prognosis he reached wasn't an optimistic one. But even so, it wasn't enough for him to resign himself to being struck down without a fight. His next move proved as much.

In an instant, a sword appeared in his hand, and in the next, several mirrored versions of himself manifested beside him, charging toward me. Calmly counterattacking, I couldn't help but chuckle at the sight—it reminded me of a certain someone's skill, though this one was clearly more advanced, as the copies seemed to have some level of autonomy. Each clone engaged differently: some tried to deflect the rain of lances I unleashed upon them, others attempted to block or evade in their own ways. Despite their efforts, only a quarter of the initial twelve remained; the others shattered, unable to avoid or properly deflect my barrage of lances.

Alexander, previously shielded by two of his mirrored selves, winced as he watched them shatter before his eyes. I thought he might launch another attack, but then I saw the notification in the corner of my vision, and I couldn't help but laugh out loud.

With a shout, Alexander hastily retreated into the sky, leaving behind his remaining mirrored versions to buy himself some time. I was still laughing when the clones attacked—one unleashed lightning, and the other two launched light magic. Impressive strength for mere copies, but ultimately nowhere near enough to pose a threat to me. I casually erected a large wall of ice, shielding myself from their attack. Once the ice had served its purpose, I let it crumble away, allowing me to catch a glimpse of two of the clones charging forward.

With just a mental command, I summoned more lances, freeing them upon the attackers. They bravely tried to survive, maneuvering as before, but with only three left, tearing through them was easier. One shattered, and soon after, so did the other, though not before using its last moments to shield the third, allowing it to get closer to me. It slipped past my lances, its sword swinging with no mercy, sending a shockwave that felled several trees with a gravity that shook the forest. But for all the force behind that blow, it failed to reach me—I was already hovering above, observing the chaos from midair.

While I didn't have Flight like Alexander, I had my own ways—several of them, actually—of achieving something similar. The clone noticed where I was almost immediately, leaping toward me in an instant. I sighed, summoning a large icicle and hurling it at the clone.

Swoosh!

It sliced the ice cleanly in two, allowing the halves to slide past without injury. "That's too much zeal for a mere clone," I muttered. But it worked to my advantage, as while the clone saved itself from that attack, it had halted him just long enough for me to finish it off. The lance I summoned right after the icicle closed the distance in less than a second, splitting the clone in two.

I watched as the clone dissolved into nothingness, hovering in the air. It was then that I noticed a shadow approaching—it was Veilleuse-19, with Dungeon Master 05 riding on her back. I waved at them before turning my attention back in the direction Alexander had fled. He was nowhere to be seen, even with the help of my Eagle Sight skill, but I wasn't worried. Not only was he already very exhausted when I stumbled upon him, I had casted hex and curse on him. He wasn't going anywhere I couldn't follow.

At this point, I could just wait for the curse and hex to claim his life. That was one option—albeit a very boring one.

Killing a king like that, when there were only so many of them, would be a shame. Adjusting myself midair, I propelled forward like a diver ascending to the surface, applying Air Magic—a new type of magic I had acquired upon choosing Mage as a secondary class along with water magic. The a powerful burst shot from my soles, propelling me forward with a sonic boom.

In about thirteen booms, I caught sight of Alexander again, and in a dozen more, I was upon him, torpedoing toward him like a missile.

He only had time to say, "What the—" before I crashed into him. His measly level 7 Flight skill couldn't save him, and we plummeted to the ground. We hit hard, and I recovered faster, grabbing onto whatever limb I could and tossing him into the distance. He crashed against several trees, knocking them down, and rolled for several dozen meters before finally coming to a stop.

Despite the struggle, he got back on his feet, just in time to see me charging toward him with a heavy swing. He miraculously managed to activate a skill, erecting a barrier. It absorbed most of the blow, but not all of it—the barrier shattered, and my hit connected, sending him flying once more. He crashed with a satisfying thud, groaning loudly as he tried to get up.

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Just like earlier, mirrors of him appeared as he called forth the skill, but this time there were only five of them. In each of their hands, a sword of intense light manifested. They initiated their stances and unleashed long-range, elementally infused slashes toward me. I chuckled as I, after rearranging the tiara on my head, proceeded to dodge the attacks, weaving around them with a serpentine grace that left Alexander unable to believe what he saw.

"What!?" he exclaimed, disbelief clear in his voice.

Not only was I dodging the attacks, but I was also closing the distance between us with effortless fluidity.

"Stop her!" he shouted at his mirrored clones, sending them to meet me up close. They swung their elementally infused blades at me, managing to achieve their creator's goal of stopping my advance, but achieving nothing more. I extended my arm, summoning a moon-like sphere that, in the next fraction of a second, unleashed a highly pressurized blast that engulfed the vicinity.

As the pressure subsided, there was nothing left where I had been cornered except me. Despite my complete immunity, in that moment, I lost sight of Alexander. He was no longer in his previous position, but it didn't take long for me to spot him again. He was high up in the air, his back turned, making yet another pitiful attempt at escape. Though the sight was annoying, I also found it quite amusing. With a stomp, I launched myself into the air after him.

"Where are you going like that?" I called out.

Hearing my voice, Alexander turned and swung his sword, sending several furious slashes my way. With a flick of my hand, I manifested three lances, shielding myself from his attack and emerging unscathed, much to his dismay. His expression twisted into a terrible grimace, and he began charging up a powerful attack, but before he could release it, a pillar of flame descended from the sky, taking him by surprise.

He barely managed to evade the attack, and the ground below was engulfed in flames, turning the area into a veritable hellscape. Both he and I turned our gaze upward to see Veilleuse-19 and Dungeon Master 05 circling above. Alexander, though clearly annoyed by their interference, had enough on his plate and no time to waste on them. Ignoring them, he swung his sword to meet my approach as I closed in on him at sound-breaking speed.

I used one of my spears as a shield, blocking his lightning- and light-infused blade. Now in close quarters, Alexander swung his fist at me—visciously, ungentlemanly, and without hesitation. But his fist met something just as powerful—my own. The resounding thud echoed through the air, and he barked in disbelief, "What?!"

Without giving him a moment to recover, I morphed my fist into a grab, locking him in place. Then, with the other, I jabbed him square in the chest. He coughed up blood. Not giving him the chance to even catch his breath, I swung him down to the ground into which I followed him down immedaitely, raising my foot and slamming it down onto his chest in a brutal stomp just as he hit the earth, leaving him sprawled out and gasping for air.

Amidst the resounding boom of the impact, I felt and heard the sound of several bones cracking under my feet, droplets of blood shooting upward.

Standing above him, I watched as lightning began to build up around him, engulfing the area. But before it could reach me, I had already withdrawn to a safe distance.

'Here I was thinking you ran out of MP,' I mused. 'I was wrong.'

Dusting off my robe, I watched Alexander struggle to his feet. He looked utterly miserable—not that he hadn't already been before, but now it was even worse. His clothes were disheveled, his face bloodied, and his limbs—arms and legs—were bent at unnatural angles. It was a wonder he could even stand, but the interface in the corner of my vision revealed the skills and abilities keeping him alive.

Watching him patch himself up, I heard him mutter, "How?! This doesn't make sense... how?"

"What doesn't?" I asked, amusement lacing my voice.

"You should be a Hexcaster and a Mage!" he shouted, frustration clear in his eyes. "You shouldn't be ab—" He suddenly stopped, his eyes widening in realization. "You... you've changed class..."

I smiled. "Ding, ding, ding. Well guessed. Congratulations on being the first human to find that out."

He was right. About 120 years ago, upon reaching level 50—the dual class milestone—I made the conscious decision to choose Mage as my secondary class, on top of my initial Hexcaster class. It was a decision I did not regret, considering the reasons that led me to it. But 50 years ago, after taking down the Second King and reaching level 75—which allowed for another class change—I decided to change my build, balance it out. My previous setup had been undeniably offense-focused and heavily reliant on magic. I had to fix that.

Activating [Mantle of Serenity], one of the first abilities I had unlocked after choosing my new class, I watched as the tiara on my head, along with my long hair, vanished, replaced by chin-length hair with individual white strands running through it. My dress transformed seamlessly into a more suitable battle form. The fabric enveloping me was black, wrapping securely around my torso and arms, with intricate red or white scale-like designs along its surface. The outfit was sturdy yet flexible, designed for both protection and freedom of movement.

Both my arms were covered in white gloves, sleek and snug. Around my waist, several metallic clasps and belts kept everything secure, their faint magical glow hinting at added defense. The lower half of my attire was equally practical, with reinforced leggings and knee-high boots adorned with green and gold patterns. Durable yet lightweight, the entire outfit provided heightened protection against magical attacks of the most common sort.

Alexander's eyes widened as he stared at my new attire. "...Monk," he mumbled.

"Well guessed again," I taunted. "But I'm not just a Monk. I also got a special class, so I'm a little more than just that."

Without another word, I thrust my hand forward, and his confusion deepened as he watched me plunge my hand into my own abdomen. Blood spilled messily, and with a groan, I retrieved something from within—a partially invisible object, pulsing like a heartbeat.

Almost immediately after the wound closed, the outfit began a self-repairing process. In less than three breaths, the battle garment was completely restored. A satisfied smile on my face, I looked down at what I had pulled out. Despite being covered in blood, it was almost invisible, save for the heartbeat-like pulse spreading across its surface. It was roughly the size and shape of a large potato. Anyone might mistake it for a crystal, but it wasn't—it was alive, or at least as alive as an eldritch being could be. The pulse intensified as I held it, and soon it began to writhe like a worm, slow at first, then frantically, until it seemed to explode.

Chains—my chains—extended from my arm, expanding in all directions to catch the bits into which the creature had dispersed. I had to catch them, partly because of the damage they could cause if unleashed, but mostly because I still had a use for them. Gathering them back into my palm, they squirmed, clumping together into a disgusting mass.

"You'll always be disturbing to look at, no matter how much time I've spent with you," I couldn't help but sigh at the sight.

It had been over eighty years since I found these creatures—Soulstriders, or as they were lovingly called in the hellish place I gathered them from, Fate Gluttons. They were exactly the kind of beings you want to keep far, far away from you. Any sane person would think that, and I had thought so too when I first found them. Knowing what they did to their hosts—parasitizing and siphoning experience—I was disgusted by their existence. But I came to realize that I could use them, and so I gathered them, raised them, and made them my tool.

For fifty years, I acted as their host, feeding them experience that should've been mine. But today was different. The experience I was about to harvest from Alexander would be mine alone. Bringing my other hand over the disturbing mass, I cast a curse upon them, effectively petrifying them into a rock-like form. Satisfied, I smiled and lifted my gaze back to Alexander.

"Sorry for the interruption. Now, where did we left off?"