The door slams open, revealing the interior of a small chapel. This chapel is rather minimal; no stained glass, no pews, no golden altars and no gaudy sculptures. It is small, the same size as the guard room you were previously in, and rather than pews there are a scant three rows of benches that face a small wooden altar, upon which a simple holy symbol of a wooden helmet is positioned. Directly in front of the altar, a woman clad in armor prays. She rises slowly as you enter and brandish your weapon.

Her hair is a light platinum blonde and her skin is pale, and while the features of her face are soft, she is dotted with scars. She wears plate armor, gilded with gold, and across her breastplate there has been emblazoned the symbol of a rose in sheets of gold. She reaches down to her side, and withdraws a morning star, and kneels down besides herself to grab her shield, decorated in a similar manner.

"So..." she begins as she turns to face you. "You're here early. The fey warned us of a mindless, bloodthirsty monster that had washed ashore and eaten one of their kin, and that it was only a matter of time before you made your bloody way over here. I was hoping that we would have had more time to prepare, but alas, it was not to be."

She donned her helmet, made of a similar armor and gilded with gold as well. The face of the helmet is open in a T-shape, allowing you to still see her face in some small part.

"Tell me, monster, how many have you slain in your path here?"

You answer.

"...Really? Just nine? Seriously? I killed more people on the last crusade..." She coughed, and regained her composure. "Perhaps the fey were wrong to be so fearful. No, perhaps I was wrong to be so fearful. You'll be put down like every other monster we've come across thus far."

She raises her mace above her head and readies her shield ahead of her. She approaches slowly, carefully observing your actions. Is she attempting to try your patience and wait for you to initiate? You see no harm in doing so. You run at her, leaping over the benches, and land on top of her. She blocks your body with her shield, separating the two of you with a thick wall of iron. You land in a squat on top of her shield, and poise your weapon to slice. With shocking strength, she throws her shield-arm to the side, and you are hurled off of her and onto a nearby bench. You roll out of the way as she brings her mace down, having risen to her feet with astonishing speed.

You square off against the knight, a bench dividing the two of you. You kick the bench up and over, and she smashes it in two with her mace. You seize the opportunity as she lets down her guard to do this, and lunge forward with a thrust of your sword. She raises her shield up and blocks it quickly, deflecting your blade to one side while her other arm swings around to smash her mace against your left side. You feel your ribs buckle and crack under the force of the attack, and as she pulls the mace from your side you feel the numerous pinprick wounds of the spikes of her mace having done their work, your side pouring blood onto your hip and down your leg.

"Is that all?" she mocks. "No, I'm sure you won't die from just one blow."

You throw your open hand out in an attempt to catch her unaware, though the recent attack has left your strength in your left side lacking in strength. You grip her throat, but she wrests herself free astonishingly easily. It is then that you glance down, and notice at the bottom of your field of view:

Weakness III

"Suffering? Is your strength waning, perhaps?" She holds her morning star up, allowing you to take a long look at it. Upon close inspection, you see numerous words in a language you do not speak engraved on the head of the mace, dancing between the numerous spikes. "This morning star has been blessed by the Lady of Oaths. Monsters like you will have your strength drained by its divine purity."

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

You gaze at the mace, and at the woman holding it. For the first time in a long time, longer even than you've been on this island, you begin to wonder if retreating might be the best option. You bite your lips in anger. That won't do, that simply just won't do. You clench your fist, feeling your strength flow back into it. With some luck, it would seem that damned blessing isn't permanent. The knight notices, and steps back and returns to her fighting stance.

You lung at her, swinging your blade at the hand she holds her mace in, but once again the knight blocks the attack with her shield. This works in your favor, as you use the momentum of the attack to throw yourself onto her shield, and grab her shield-arm with your open hand, keeping the two of you locked against each other. You reach your other arm behind her, and plunge your sword into her back- only for your blade to clatter against the steel plates she wears, to no effect. The mace swings down at you again, and you throw her backwards over your shoulder and onto her back behind you, where she crashes into a bench below, splintering it into pieces. You raise your sword up and bring it down in an attempt to strike her while she is stunned, but her shield once again blocks the attack. The force of your strike reverberates through your arm, and you step backwards, giving her time to stand up as you give yourself time to overview the situation and determine a better course of action.

Clearly, swinging at her at every opportunity is not working. Her shield blocks all the damage you can throw at her, and what few attacks you can manage to get through will be blocked by her sturdy armor. You look into her eyes through the T-shaped hole in her helmet, at the soft flesh you crave to carve open. You first ponder whether you'll be able to stab right through a hole that small; but then you realize, you simply won't have to. There's nothing holding that helmet on her head- just rip it off!

You leap backwards, feeling the pain of your wound starting to take hold, and clear the benches and land in the corner of the room, with your back to the wall. Even the knight seems surprised by your physical prowess. You grab the Healing Injection from your bag and jab it into yourself, feeling the blood in your body replenish but doing nothing for your fractured ribs and open wounds. You raise your blade and point it at her, and she raises her shield in response.

You again leap at her, sword outstretched, though that is merely a bluff. Once you land in front of her, you instead lunge at her with your open hand again. She blocks your hand with your shield, but an arm is not blocked in the same way as a sword. You coil your arm over the top of her shield, grab its edge, and yank it downwards. Her guard exposed, she swings her mace around and bashes your back, but you fight through it.

Weakness III

Weakness IV

Weakness V

You drop your sword, letting it melt again into a puddle of blood, and grab at her helmet. Enfeebled as you are, you can take a helmet off a head at the very least. Currently, you'd compare your strength to that of a ten-year-old child. With a limp grip at the base of the helmet, you grit your teeth and bite down on the shield, keeping it in place and providing substantial leverage as you rip the helmet off of her head, as it goes flying an awe-inspiring quarter of a meter off her head and landing behind her.

You change your grip on the shield as she continues to bash away at your back, attempting to crush your spine, the Weakness effect having capped out at V a long time ago. You grab the shield and hold it down with both hands, and step forward, using your weak leg strength to your advantage as you tumble forwards, your weight unaffected by the status and causing the two of you to fall down.

Weak as your arms may be, your jaws are at the very least three times their strength.

As you rip the knight's head from her neck, the blood splatters onto the holy idol behind the two of you. Your magnificent feast is quickly interrupted by an ethereal, feminine voice calling out to you.

"Greetings, my most favored mortal," it calls out from behind you. You pay it no mind and continue to feast, nearing a desperation as you feel lightheadedness begin to set in from the lack of blood. "No, take your time, I'm not going anywhere, I guess," the voice continues. You oblige her sarcasm.