Jezebel leaned bored against one of the few rocks that broke up the monotony of the landscape. Greenish mist swirled around her legs, and the pale moonlight was made all the duller by the glow of the ritual pentagram. Her hand absently stroked the thin fur of her forearm. The cool wind blowing down from the mountains could only be felt on the tip of her sensitive nose.

The undead had positioned themselves in front of the tunnel exit and, on her instruction, had piled up a small semi-circular wall of dirt. Directly in front of it stood melee fighters with rotting wooden shields and rusty swords. On the rampart directly behind them were skeletons with spears. The mist wafted over the undead and slowly seeped into them and their equipment. Bones became firmer, and gaps in the flesh closed. Rust slowly disappeared from the weapons, and the rotten wood strengthened.

It was about as exciting as watching accountants at work. Jezebel heard a noise behind her and looked around. She could just see Umbramar disappearing backward into the fog. Of course, the clumsy fool had stumbled over his own feet again. How someone could generate a character with such poor physical stats was beyond her.

Seconds passed. She paused. Even this clumsy oaf shouldn't need that long to sort out his legs. Had he managed to hit his head on a stone? With Mr. Kruger's avatar's low constitution, that could knock him out immediately with a bit of bad luck. Shaking her head, she started to move around the pentagram. He had warned her not to step into it, as that could cause unpredictable reactions from the ritual. Surely, he just didn't want to bother carving the thing into the ground again. It had taken an eternity the first time.

She winced as the tip of her nose began to twitch nervously. She suppressed a curse. The designers could have adapted her breed's reaction to the perception of potential danger a little less precisely to the behavior of rabbits. Sniffing was particularly useless here, as the sulfurous smell of the necromantic mist masked everything else.

She looked around. She couldn't put her finger on it, but something had changed. Everything she saw seemed normal. As normal as it could be in the middle of a necromantic ritual. The mist billowed up to chest level, and she couldn't see anything from her waist down. Fortunately, the ground here was smooth, and they had removed all obstacles before the ritual. Then she saw it. The undead, who had stood rigidly in their positions until now, looked around. Two of the spearmen were striding down from the rampart.

"Mr. Krüger... I mean, Umbramar! Get up already and take care of your undead. They're getting out of control!"

Something brushed past her leg. She let out a cry of surprise. Not a shrill squeak. She would tear out the arm of anyone who claimed that. She looked around. Fortunately, no one had heard that... Shapes rose out of the fog, not in an orderly fashion like before, but everywhere at once. Jezebel ran in a semicircle around the pentagram glowing through the mist. She bumped into an obstacle with her foot. Something grabbed her leg! The mana adept channeled magic into her physical strength and tore the skeletal hand off her foot with the next step. The still, firm grip choked her blood. She had to stop and kick the bone hand off with her other leg with a powerful kick. The mist billowed upwards beside her, and a zombie in plate armor raised a huge two-handed axe as she stood up. A quick step brought her right in front of its chest, where she could smell the zombie's foul breath. She spun, kicked him out of the spin, jumped over him and kept running. The leg muscles of a rabbit-like race were the only reason she was halfway satisfied with her race choice.

Newly awakened skeletons swung swords at her. She dodged the clumsy strikes. "Umbramar! Everything's completely out of control here!"

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a movement that was faster and more straightforward than the undead appearing everywhere. A village girl ran low to the ground directly to where Umbramar had disappeared. She cut through the fog like the fin of an attacking shark in the sea. Jezebel didn't let on that she had seen the attacker. Just before she got to where she wanted to look for the necromancer, the girl let out a loud battle cry and twirled a long staff above her head. Jezebel shook her head inwardly. Far too soon. She shouldn't have announced her attack so early. Even someone who didn't have as highly developed perception skills as she did would have had enough time to prepare. Just a fool... It was like hearing the voice of her self-defense teacher back in the real world: "Never assume that your opponent is less capable or dumber than you. If you're right, it gives you no advantage. If you're wrong, you've already lost before the first blow is struck."

Jezebel saw and heard nothing, but in the limited visibility, it meant nothing. She threw herself to the side in mid-run and redirected her movement into a blind spinning kick through the fog. Something moved under the mist, and something cut her leg. She used a little mana to activate a pain-blocking ability, ignored the cut and switched to the other leg. The first kick missed, and then she saw movement in the mist. The attacker was crouching and moving through the fog. This made him difficult to see, but his head was easy to reach. She used mana to accelerate her movement briefly and was in front of him before he could react.

Her knee thundered against his face. He must have sensed the blow at the last moment because he was already straightening up, going with the movement and taking most of the energy out of the attack. It was still enough for a bloody nose, but she didn't break his nose bone as planned. Quick as thought, she channeled mana into another skill and struck him in the chest with the flat of her right hand. Lightning flashed as the Stunning Strike skill became active. His constitution was surprisingly high but not high enough. He still managed to groan and break his fall instead of smacking his face full on the ground but then lay limp. The fog closed over him again. Jezebel ducked and rolled acrobatically to the side to avoid the expected blow from her second opponent. Completely unnecessary, as it turned out. The peasant girl had been stopped and was currently engaged in a duel with a tall zombie warrior wielding a two-handed mace, which he swung slowly but with irresistible force. He could barely hit her with it, but the meager blows with her staff bounced off the chain mail with no effect at all.

Jezebel straightened up, crossed her arms and watched comfortably after making sure there were no other enemies nearby. At least none, apart from the undead, who were only interested in their immediate surroundings for the time being after getting up. If there was no one there, they bathed themselves silently in the necromantic energy of the fog for the time being. Jezebel got her bearings. She had an open path out onto the plain. If necessary, she could easily outrun the undead in the open field. Satisfied, she turned her attention back to the duel. The redhead wore a short leather skirt with an ordinary square neckline. Who went into a fight like that? And what kind of fighting technique was that? Neither HEMA nor kendo. Presumably, the style was prescribed by the system for primitive weapons. Staff fighting required sophisticated techniques. The fact that quarterstaffs had been categorized as primitive had annoyed her when she first read the rules. The zombie warrior took a deep breath and a stream of mist billowed up in front of him like an inverted tornado and disappeared into his mouth. The peasant girl took the opportunity to deliver a blow that would have shattered a human's sternum, chainmail or not. The undead’s body cracked softly, but since he didn't need his chest muscles to breathe, it didn't affect him. With a roar, the undead charged forward. The peasant girl backed away, tripped over something in the mist, fell backward and disappeared from sight. The zombie warrior raised the mace into a mighty two-handed slash and thundered it downwards. Jezebel took a few steps closer to see if it had hit. Wood cracked, hidden in the mist, and then the peasant girl reappeared. In her hands, she held two short pieces of wood. All that was left of her quarterstaff. She had parried the blow with it. The mana adept was impressed. The girl had fire, you had to give her that.

Jezebel would have liked to watch for a while longer, but the undead began to move on all sides, attracted by noise and fighting. She sighed. The peasant girl wouldn't earn her any XP. It was immediately apparent to Jezebel that she had too low a level for that. Fighting the undead wouldn't gain anything either since they were technically on her side. But if she hurried, she could at least have a little fun and train her hardest to level skill. With a quick decision, she briefly paced on the spot. The powerful hind legs of her hare-like race lifted her half a meter into the air without any effort. She aimed, then charged forward and spiraled into a murderous leaping kick straight at the zombie's head from behind. The spine broke with a rotten crack, and the head flew forward. Like a wet sack, the zombie warrior toppled forward. Jezebel bounced back, channeling the momentum into a few backward flick-flaks, then landed near the bumpkin she had stunned. Although she couldn't even see him, she stamped her foot demonstratively on the ground, "Oh dear, did I step on your friend?" She kicked at the empty ground, but the farm girl couldn't see that through the green glowing haze. "Oops, now I've hit his head. How clumsy of me."

The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

The peasant girl snorted, flung the pieces of wood to one side in disdain and bent down into the mist. Jezebel raised an eyebrow. She had expected a savage attack with an attempt to bite, scratch and pull hair. Was she trying to hide instead? Jezebel wasn't in the mood for a chase in the fog.

Then, the teenager straightened herself up again and swung the long mace she had taken from the zombie warrior.

Jezebel raised an eyebrow: "You're using the two-handed mace? If you think that counts as a primitive weapon that you can use without a fighter class, then you're wrong. You can't even hit a tree with it."

The peasant girl reached out and started moving in her direction. The mana adept spread her arms and closed her eyes: "Wait, I'll close my eyes. I won't take the hit willingly because then even a little peasant bitch like you could hit. But with my eyes closed, my parry is almost at zero. You just have to hit it. Go on! Give it your best shot!"

She heard Trulda's gritted teeth and the quick footsteps with which she came running. She grinned inwardly. She had successfully baited the girl. Instead of just striking, the girl would try a running assault attack. That was a maneuver anyone could use. With the deductions an attacker got on their defense for three seconds after a failed maneuver, Jezebel could finally practice her deathblow skill. Against even halfway adequate opponents, the penalties for this complex strike were so high that she almost never hit. Since it was only increased on success and a success killed the opponent immediately, there was no way to find a training partner for it. At least not a voluntary one. At some point she would have to slaughter a goblin village or something similar to increase the skill. Even if she didn't get any more XP for these low-level monsters.

With her eyes closed, Jezebel couldn’t see Trulda's eyes suddenly crisscrossing with red angry veins. Her muscles stood out, and she sped up.

The tavern wench, her eyes blazing with fury, sprinted past Jezebel without slowing down. She swung her mace with all her might, adding her total momentum in the double-handed strike: "Eat that!"

The loud voice and murderous rage in her attacker's voice made Jezebel open her eyes, but it was too late. Before she could react, her skull exploded like a ripe melon when the heavy mace hit her with full force.

Critical strike against feeble opposition. Upgraded to critical hit: damage doubled. Headshot: no armor protection. Assault attack maneuver: Speed added to weapon damage. Total damage: Instant kill!

Opponent defeated: Jezebel (Mana Adept, Level 6): 120 XP

* * *

Jezebel blinked as the virtual waiting room appeared around her. She stared uncomprehendingly at the news of her death. How had this happened?

She looked around the room. Her boss had set up a shared virtual room for the two of them. She wouldn't necessarily have gone for the "old English country house" style, but the roaring fire and the high leather armchairs were quite cozy.

Lolling on one of the virtual armchairs, Mr. Krüger looked up: "Well, did they get you too?"

"I... It seems so. The farm girl must have landed a lucky hit. Can happen. And you?"

"I was in the middle of the ritual when someone covered my mouth from behind and plunged a knife into my kidneys with the other hand. Twice. Then I was tilted backward, and someone cut my throat. Did you see the perpetrator?"

"Only fleetingly. Some village urchin. Both were teenagers. Didn't you have any protection spells active?"

"I couldn't. All other active spells would have disrupted the ritual. Gives nasty deductions." He pointed behind her. When she turned around, Jezebel discovered a wall-sized screen floating in the middle of the room behind her, representing her last fight. The image froze with the hit.

"Nemesis popped up a screen so I could watch your fight. It was always from your perspective, so I couldn't see anything that your avatar couldn't see. It was still very amusing. So, my money's on a steppe barbarian."

"Never in my life. More like a barmaid, or whatever it's called here. Maybe a courtesan or one of the artisan classes."

Her employer waved her off: "You're too distracted by her looks. She had almost the same sprinting speed as you, even without magic. Only very few classes get movement bonuses like that. She wielded the two-handed weapon professionally. Now, guess who gets an assault attack as a feat at level 1? Also, did you see her eyes at the very end?"

Jezebel shook her head. The last thing she noticed was the mace coming towards her face. He let the image rewind a little so that she could still see it blurred out of the corner of her eye.

"Bloodshot, full of red veins. Definitely berserker rage. Gives bonuses to physical strength, hit rolls and damage."

Jezebel admitted defeat, waved him off and sat down in an armchair next to him. "Shall we track them down and return the favor?"

The necromancer shook his head: "They got us fair and square. Clean timing. Well executed. Must have taken a lot of courage to sneak through the fog of an active ritual. I assume they had a quest to thwart the summoning."

"They didn’t look to me like normal players. Their clothing is much too authentic. No armor and only the most primitive weapons. But NPCs don’t get quests or take part in world quest events, or do they?"

"There was some news last week, trending in all forums. During the downtime, NPCs have learned to access the skill and leveling system. Nemesis even grants them quests via the Questgivers once NPCs get into the official plot or world quests."

"Does that change anything about your plans?"

"Not really. Nistrul's will be done." He grinned. "We'll just have to manage without Markus Gruber. He's decided to work as a blacksmith in the city and not go on any more adventures for the time being. The physics engine is supposed to be awesome for blacksmiths. He said he's learning a lot for his medieval history degree."

"Markus Gruber, our IT nerd?" She had talked to the technician when he had installed new hardware in her or Mr. Krüger's office. His stories had been surprisingly exciting. She had almost wanted to try out VR herself. But only almost. She laughed. "Gromm, the crusher is going all crafter? I'll believe it when I see it."

"We can spawn in the capital tomorrow and take a look."

"Changing the spawn point offline is quite expensive..."

"Don't make a fool of yourself. We're still well within the limit that the Nemesis AI allows a single player in bonus buys. Besides, I will still replace your losses in-game."

"Losses? I didn't have any items with me when I died."

"Not that, but Nemesis has taken seven gold pieces from you and generated them as loot."

She didn't really care about virtual money, but here it was a matter of principle: "Can the AI do that?"

"Who's going to stop it? She must have been really impressed by the barbarian. Oh yes, try not to get too shocked when Mr. Gruber tells you who he's settling down for."

"Mister: 'The massacre on the blood fields wasn't gory enough for me' has a girlfriend? Wow. It's about time. I have to meet her. What's her name?"

"Kevin."

Jezebel blinked. "Oh?... Oh! Okay. Good for him."

"Didn't see that coming either, did you? You’ll love those two. I wonder if they'll take their relationship to Real Live or leave it here in VR."

"Speaking of Real Live..." She called up her own screen and studied her boss's schedule. "Taking time compression into account, you have a meeting with the Supervisory Board next week. Before that, there are a few meetings planned with the department heads without a fixed date."

"The decisions on the new Group strategies. This time, I will study the agenda more thoroughly. Last quarter, I almost blindly waved through the plan to save 6 million Bitcoin a year by replacing part of customer service with AI bots."

"Sounds sensible. AI bots are faster and don't get upset by even the stupidest customers."

"We would have laid off over a thousand long-serving employees for this. They only know our products and internal processes, not much else. Nobody else would take them on. At least not for a wage they can live on. Something like that can cause enormous publicity damage if it goes viral online."

She made a few notes and sent out appointment requests to the department heads. "I'm impressed by how calmly you've taken this defeat, Mr. Krüger. I would have raged if someone had stabbed me in the back so close to success. I guess that's the end of your planned career in the Church of Nistrul."

Umbramar leaned back calmly in his armchair. A footstool materialized so that he could comfortably place his feet on it: "The quest is far from over."

"How is that? You were killed before the ritual was completed. Umbramar's undead will simply drop down and lie there. The dryad escapes and Nistrul withdraws his favor from your Umbramar persona. At least if I've understood the gameplay correctly."

"That would have happened if a necromancer had performed the standard ritual. As a priest necromancer in favor of Nistrul, I still have a few aces up my sleeve. After my failure, the undead were sustained by Nistrul's divine power. That effect did cost me a few permanent points from my mana reserve, but I can regenerate them with some expensive elixirs. The undead still have orders to move into the tunnel in formation and hold it as soon as I'm gone. No one will get past."