It was absolutely bizarre and sickening to witness blood oozing from a wound in my head, exposing part of my brain! It felt like being trapped in a horror movie, both a horrified spectator and the unfortunate victim on the screen.
Suddenly, a hunter entered my field of view, making his way towards my blanket. He let out a chuckle.
"She's definitely done for," he remarked, eyeing my body sprawled on the blanket, blood still seeping from the gruesome head injury, albeit more slowly now.
He was a rather unattractive elf hunter, fitting the typical adventurer archetype, clocking in at level sixty-one. His elongated face was far from beautiful, almost split in half by his wide mouth with thin lips and vampire-like canines. To top it off, they were conversing in English! Some moronic player had brought about my demise!
If I weren't lying lifeless there, my frustration would be through the roof.
"Inform the viscount that she's dead!" declared a warrior, donned in gleaming black plate armor, a complete set, and boasting a level of sixty-three.
The viscount. That imbecile had caused this?
"Ha, these were easily won one hundred gold coins!" remarked a human girl clad in leather armor, her fingers busy with a message spell. "Took us less than half an hour after we picked up her trail!" She shot a reproachful glance at the hunter. "Why'd you have to kill her? Rendering her unconscious would've sufficed!"
She was a level sixty-four rogue.
Did they snuff me out for a mere hundred gold? The viscount certainly found a budget-friendly way to rid himself of a troublesome Hero of the Kingdom!
"She went down easier than I thought!" the hunter commented with a shrug, drawing nearer. "I expected her to be downed, seriously injured, but she just croaked. Tsk!"
He shook his head, disappointment evident as his ears flapped atop his head. Firing off an explosive arrow to my head and expecting me to survive? That's like hoping to endure a direct hit from a hellfire missile!
A man garbed in an elegant blue robe, wielding a staff adorned with intricate arabesque designs, approached and inspected the blanket closely.
"Well, she doesn't appear to be carrying anything of value, except for this bloody worthless gown. Should I take her horns as evidence?"
He was a mage of level sixty-one. He bent down and snagged a cookie from my plate.
"Mmm, not bad!" he remarked, munching on my cookie.
"The gown itself is worth a single gold coin, fine material that is! The viscount didn't request proof; he knows us," the rogue replied, grabbing a cookie herself after sending the message. "Still, take the horns. They might fetch us some coin; they're likely worth a few gold as alchemical ingredients. Just don't mention they belong to a beastwoman!"
The small blue message bird soared into the sky, veering northward and accelerating out of my sight.
"If you want the gown, you can strip her. I won't touch that bloody mess; magic blood stains are nearly impossible to wash out, and I don't want my gown ruined!" the fifth member retorted.
She was a level sixty-two priestess, clad in a flowing pink gown that partially obscured her elegant leather boots, and she wielded a staff as tall as herself.
As she examined my china and pocketed the teacup, she remarked, "Some people might pay more if they knew these horns came from a humanoid."
The rogue girl chuckled. "What kind of clients do you have?" she quipped, and the priestess responded with an eye roll.
"Where's her inventory? Did she carry these cookies and fine china in a bag?" the rogue pondered, beginning to disrobe me.
"I don't see one!" the hunter replied, intrigued.
As the mage moved toward my body to retrieve my bloodied horns, a gut feeling warned me against allowing him to do so.
I desperately hoped they would leave me alone after plundering my belongings, but the idea of them taking my horns felt like being dismantled.
Instinctively, I wished to vanish and flee. To my astonishment, I shadowmelded, and all remnants of my presence, including the blood spilled on the grass, transformed into smoke.
"What's happening?" The mage exclaimed, stepping back.
"Damn, she wasn't dead!" The rogue exclaimed, drawing her daggers and scanning the surroundings.
"Arcane cage!" the priestess cried out, and she and the mage executed synchronized gestures, unleashing an arcane discharge into the air.
Suddenly, my shadowmelded form collided with an invisible barrier as I attempted to escape, and I tumbled backward onto the ground, reverting to my physical form. I was perhaps as shocked as they were to see myself alive.
"Please, no!" I yelped, scrambling to my feet, but before I could fully comprehend the situation, the warrior was upon me, his sword slicing deep into my side.
I cried out in agony and instinctively shadowmelded again, narrowly evading the rogue who had moved to flank me. They were incredibly fast!
Attempting to flee in the opposite direction, I encountered the same invisible barrier after about twenty meters, reverting to my human form once more.
My poor stressed and damaged brain finally grasped the situation—I was trapped within an invisible barrier. It felt elastic to the touch, as if I could break through given enough force and time. But there was no time to spare.
As I reached out to test the barrier, a fireblast struck my back, courtesy of the mage complemented by the swiftly approaching warrior clad in heavy armor. How could he move so swiftly?
Once again, I shadowmelded just in time, narrowly dodging the warrior's sword as it sliced through the empty air where I had stood moments before.
Could I trick them and hide in my shadowmeld form? I wondered. Perhaps they wouldn't detect me and eventually be forced to leave.
I crept into a corner and attempted to meld into the ground in my shadowmeld form. For a while, it seemed to work as they stood around, puzzling over my disappearance.
"Did she escape?" the priestess inquired.
The mage shook his head. "I don't think so."
"Where is she?" the warrior demanded, pacing back and forth.
Stolen novel; please report.
"Stay still and wait," the mage commanded, his tone resolute. "We'll find her."
His confidence was unsettling me.
"There!" the hunter suddenly exclaimed, releasing an arrow directly towards me.
Despite my efforts to evade it, the lightning arrow struck true, even with my shadowmeld form, its electrical discharge forcing me to materialize once more.
I screamed in agony, rolling away from the electrical discharges of the arrow that had grazed me. But before I could even attempt to escape, they were upon me.
The rogue materialized out of thin air, plunging a dagger into my back, and piercing my liver. Another scream tore from my throat, muffled by the searing heat of the subsequent fireblast that engulfed my torso. In the next instant, the warrior swung his broadsword in a decapitating arc.
I watched in horror as my head tumbled to the ground, my body following suit, collapsing to the side.
But before either could hit the earth, I shadowmelded once more, dissolving into fine dust that dispersed into the air. The warrior wildly swung his sword, striking nothing but empty space.
"How many lives does she have?" the priestess mused.
If I had ever entertained the notion that I was Cala, after this chaotic fray I had a resounding answer: I may possess some of her memories, but I was unmistakably not her. Drats, how I missed her!
The realization sent a chill down my spine, forcing me to confront the harsh truth: despite the unfair odds, I had to dig deep, fight back, and find a way to escape.
"Was that real or an illusion?" the mage pondered aloud.
Materializing for a brief moment, I cast <
I swiftly retrieved a knife from my inventory and plunged it into the mage, simultaneously unleashing a life-drain spell. It took effect instantly on all of them. Though the life drain wasn't overpowering, multiplied by five targets, it began to slowly offset the wounds I'd already sustained.
While the shadowmeld spell had pieced me back together, I was nothing more than a pitiful heap of flesh and misery, held together by magic, with numerous internal wounds. The life drain spell was attempting to mend these injuries, albeit slowly.
With a pained cry, the mage teleported away, evading my grasp, but I noticed him also colliding with the barrier. So, it was restricting their movements too; they couldn't freely enter and exit this arcane cage.
"Heal!" the mage shouted.
"She's draining life!" the warrior exclaimed. "Cast healing on all of us!"
"I'm aware, I'm aware! It's just a trickle," the priestess replied, countering my life drain with an overall healing spell to counterbalance the loss.
While my brain was trying to understand why I was still alive and how did shadowmeld put me back together, I pushed those thoughts to the back of my mind. With only thirty seconds left from my darkness spell, I weighed my options: should I press the attack or attempt to flee?
Opting for the latter, I made a dash for the edge of the arcane cage, intending to pass through its enveloping membrane in my physical form this time. However, my escape was thwarted by the priestess's sharp cry.
"She's trying to flee!" she exclaimed, prompting the mage to unleash another firebolt that struck me, revealing my position within the darkness.
They both seemed to possess an uncanny awareness of my presence as if their senses extended to the arcane cage itself.
I shadowmelded again just in time to evade the warrior's attack as he came charging, swinging his sword, and decided to attack the priestess.
Materializing behind her, I seized another knife from my inventory and swiftly aimed for her neck. Although she sensed my presence and attempted to evade my attack, I managed to land a glancing blow, enough to draw blood in the process.
Yet before I could capitalize on the opportunity, the rogue appeared behind me, striking with deadly precision.
The damn rogue seemed to possess a skill for stealth that continually confounded me.
Her two long daggers sliced at my neck from both sides with a speed and force far surpassing my own. Once more, I witnessed my head and body tumble to the ground, blood spilling from my severed arteries, though not as profusely as before. Clearly, fatigue was setting in my body.
I shadowmelded once again, my form dissipating into smoke, only to materialize behind the rogue. With a swift motion, I plunged another jagged knife into her back, accompanied by a black bolt.
While the bolt would have had almost no effect on its own, the incision allowed it to penetrate her chest, causing her to cry out in agony as the dark energy spread within her.
Before the warrior could strike, I shadowmelded once more, evading his blow as he lunged forward. As the warrior withdrew the knife from her wound, blood spurting out, the priestess hastened to heal her.
It was then that I noticed the faint lines of mana connecting them, a spell that allowed the priestess to heal her companions remotely and monitor their condition.
I couldn't sense the hunter's whereabouts; he was likely using a skill similar to the rogue's to evade my detection. However, I knew the mage's location and, he was momentarily alone a bit further away.
I materialized behind him.
The moment I struck him, I let my mana sever the thin thread connecting him to the priestess.
“Dirk!” the priestess exclaimed, sensing the loss of connection.
But I was already behind the mage, driving my jagged knife deep into his neck. Though he attempted to teleport away, I held him tightly with my left hand.
As he blasted a firebolt with his right hand toward his back, he missed me. That was his undoing. Had he hit me, he would have blown me away, but his miss afforded me the opportunity to complete my cut.
He croaked out something as he fell to the ground, his hands flailing, his head nearly severed. Just as I prepared to shadowmeld again, a net fell over me.
"She got Dirk!" the hunter's scream pierced the air as he pulled the net, forcing me to the ground.
Electro-shocks coursed through my body as I struggled desperately to break free. Just as I managed to push myself onto all fours, a heavy spear pierced my back, passing through my body and embedding itself into the ground below.
“I've got her!” the hunter bellowed triumphantly, then ordered, "Revive Dirk!" to the priestess.
The net ceased its electrical discharges, but I still couldn't shadowmeld. Something was blocking me, whether it was the net or the spear pinning me down. Or maybe just the accumulated pain that was spreading through my body. The hunter's heavy boot pressed down on my back, further immobilizing me.
"You got her?" the warrior's voice sounded from behind the hunter.
"Alive, just as you asked," the hunter boasted. "Sit on her neck and keep her hands down!" he commanded.
I felt the warrior's weight pressing down on my neck, his strength overpowering as he restrained my hands.
Gurgling blood, my struggles grew weaker as my power waned, my mind slowly detaching from reality but still racing for a solution amidst the chaos. It was almost as if my spirit would have been separated from my body again and my mind wandered while my body still struggled.
I had managed to take down one of them, and freedom had been within my grasp! Without the mage, that cage would surely have crumbled, leaving me just a shadowmeld away from escape.
The thought only fueled my rage further. In a one-on-one scenario, theoretically, I should have been no match for any of them. Even if the priestess couldn't defeat me, she should have been able to hold me off. And yet, valiantly, I stood my ground against all five of them!
But what good was almost escaping if I ended up captured and sold to that viscount? Almost escaping was still a failure, and who would sing my praises for such a glorious but ultimately lost fight?
As I was stabbed in the back once more, the rogue's voice pierced through the chaos, "Dirty beast! I've killed her thrice and she still stabs me! Take this!"
"Calm down, Heather!" the warrior intervened. "She's down now! Do you want to kill her again?"
"Want to test how many lives this kitty has?" the hunter guffawed.
How many lives does this kitty have?
Kitty... I was teetering on the edge of consciousness, my senses blurred by the loss of blood and the struggle for breath. In that hazy state, my mind still raced, concocting escape plans. Perhaps transforming into a lynx now could surprise them, throw them off my trail, and give me a chance to flee. With their attention on resurrecting the mage, I might have a few precious moments to break away. Beasts were stronger, faster – surely a lynx could outrun them. I focused on casting the spell, my mana responding to my desperate call, but as the spell formed, my consciousness slipped away.