Cecillia blinked as she read the system notification, yet she didn’t give it much thought as a shaky hand was raised to the side of her neck. She gingerly touched where the wound was and warm blood leaked from her tender flesh. Bringing her hand back before her eyes, the crimson liquid coated her fingers, but she was somehow still alive.

“How…?” Cecillia mumbled.

The wound wasn’t deep, but she didn’t understand why the champion didn’t finish her off. The vine above her head had also retracted into the ceiling as well. Her pupils trembled and she glanced towards the armoured figure.

His form was unmoving and the shadowy eyes stared back at her, both empty and hollow as always. It didn’t say a word as the metal creaked, its body lurching forward into a deep bow. Cecillia was unable to say a word as an overwhelming confusion washed over her.

The pain in her neck itself wasn’t anything special, but the phantom feeling of death could only be described as harrowing. Why was she still here when she should’ve died? Cecillia was numb.

Her eyes stared fixedly at the champion’s still bowing figure and she pushed herself to her feet. She felt her legs shuddering beneath her as her screaming muscles struggled to support her weight. The fight had drawn out every single ounce of strength she had left and it was only now that she started to recover. Her breath came out in ragged gasps and her chest heaved as she forced herself to stay standing. No matter how much she wanted to lie down and rest, she didn’t know the champion’s intentions and a step was taken.

Slowly, Cecillia walked over to the fallen blade, but as her hand reached out to grip its handle, a chime rang in her mind.

[You have received the King’s Valor.]

* A ruler shall share the pain of their subjects

* All stats are permanently doubled

‘...What?’ her eyes widened.

Cecillia couldn’t comprehend what she was looking at, but her body felt the effects that her mind could not understand. Immediately, vitality flowed through her veins, strength filled her muscles and a clarity soothed her mind. The weakness permeating through her body subsided slightly, but still, she was unable to wrap her mind around the events that had just occurred.

Her eyes were back on the bowing champion. His hands were clasped in front of him, almost in a display of respect. The glowing shadows he had for eyes were downcast, as if they were afraid to even grace her presence.

“Why…?” she muttered, her voice barely louder than a whisper. “W-why are you bowing?”

The champion’s eyes flickered, dimming as if in response. Then with a creaking echo, it straightened itself from its bow. Cecillia took an uneasy step backwards as she warily stared at the champion.

The air between them was thick as she waited for whatever he would do. But instead, he made no sudden movements and an audible gasp left her lips. The champion’s eyes, once hidden by the shade, now resembled human. No hostility remained—only a sorrowful melancholy that symbolized a longing remorse.

It held her gaze for a second before its body convulsed. The armour it wore clattered as the champion dropped to one knee. A low, grinding noise echoed from within the darkness, and Cecillia soon realized that it was trying to speak. The sound was inhuman, coming out like a metallic, tortured groan. And a single word was uttered.

“Forgive…”

The champion’s voice hung in the air, fading into the silence as she narrowed her eyes. The sound was almost impossible to understand, but to Cecillia the meaning was clear. Although, even if she did understand the words, how could she understand its intent? Why was this thing that had been hellbent on killing her now pleading for her forgiveness.

Before she was able to say anything, the champion’s body shook once more. Its armour cracked, fracturing lines splintering across the metal as it were being torn apart from inside. The darkness within ignited and Cecillia was forced to shield her eyes. Through the gaps within her fingers, there was a lonely image.

The champion’s armour crumbled away, revealing a faint ghost-like figure. Its body was transparent, made out of ethereal shadows and it could barely be recognized as human. The once terrifying champion had now become a mere shadow.

Hunched over and frail, its hands clawed at the stone.

“Forgive me…” The shade rasped again. This time, the voice was no longer metallic, but painfully human. Cecillia watched as a trembling hand reached out towards her, before it finally collapsed completely. The shadow turned to dust as it crumbled into wisps that floated into the ceiling.

It was only then that Cecillia noticed that a single tear had slipped down her cheek. Her hand hesitatingly brushed against her skin, the blood and teardrop mixing together. For some reason, she stood there frozen in sorrow, unable to even breathe.

“I-I’m sorry…”

As her whisper left her lips, her legs gave out beneath her and she fell to her knees. Cecillia couldn’t understand why she was reacting this way, but she knew it had to do with whatever the King’s Valor was.

Cecillia remained still for several moments until a familiar softness pressed against her shoulder. Her head lifted and a bitter smile crossed her lips.

“Hey, Blackie,” she said and leaned into the wolf. “You guys must’ve been scared.”

Bluey hopped down from Blackie’s head and glanced up at her. Cecillia only shifted and the slime nestled against her stomach. Her arms wrapped around the squishy Bluey in a comforting hug.

“Thanks,” Cecillia murmured softly.

Her vision grew blurry and she soon fell asleep in the embrace of her pets. The three remained peaceful even as the runes beneath them began to glow. Blackie and Bluey noticed the lights, but as they glanced at their exhausted master, they didn’t dare try to wake her up.

Blackie growled gently as it didn’t sense any danger and a flash of light surrounded their bodies. In an instant, they were no longer in the dark, suffocating depths of the dungeon, but within a stream of gleaming radiance. A moment later when the light faded, they found themselves lying on soft grass beneath clear open sky.

Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

The air was fresh and cool, a gentle breeze rustling through the leaves of the nearby trees. The area was familiar as the tall tree loomed over them, but the entrance that had been carved into the wood was no longer there. Blackie glanced around and sniffed the air.

Flowers replaced the once rolling mists and the sun shone down upon them warmly. Cecillia stirred slightly before she arose with a soft yawn. As she looked around, her eyes widened as they fell upon the tree.

Had it been a dream?

The sudden thought ran through her head, but the energy flowing through her body shot it down immediately. Opening her status, she wanted to confirm if it had really been true.

Name: Cecillia Black

Age: 19

Class I: Cryomancer

Class II: [Locked]

Jobs: Cook, Tamer Lvl. 1

Level: 11

Afflictions: Mana Corruption, Divine Seal (XX)

Health: 452/600

Mana: -/-

Stamina: 42/800

Attributes:

Available Stat-Points: 0

Strength: 30x2

Constitution: 30x2

Endurance: 40x2

Agility: 60x2

Wisdom: 18x2

Intelligence: 22x2

Soul: 0

Basic Skills:

— Identification lvl 1

Class Skills:

— Cryomancy lvl 0

Her eyes shimmered as they passed over the information.

‘So it really happened,’ she realized.

If it hadn’t been a dream—she brought her hand to her neck. The wound was still there, and continued to bleed. Letting out a sigh, she shook her head. Dungeons, tombs, champions… just what kind of world did she arrive in.

Cecillia continued to rest with her eyes facing the sky. In the time since she had entered the dungeon, it looked like only a few hours had passed. Her body wasn’t in the mood to do any more hunting, and she already decided that getting to level eleven was enough for the time being. Whatever the king’s valor was, she would simply treat it as a stat multiplier, nothing more than that. She was too tired to even think of the potential implications.

As Cecillia lay on the soft grass, her vision lazily traced over the clouds drifting across the sky. But just as she began to feel comfortable, the faint shuffling sounds of footsteps reached her ears. Her head perked up immediately; the noise was distant, but it was evident enough to mark it as a threat. Reaching for her bow, Cecillia’s hand froze as she felt a coldness pressing against her throat.

“Restrain your wolf.”

The voice belonged to a man and carried the sharp edge of a threat. Cecillia’s eyes turned to ice as she released her weapon. Blackie snarled, claws glowing with darkness as she saw several more figures appear behind the wolf. While Bluey… did its best to look intimidating.

“I won’t say it again,” he repeated. The pressure of the blade increased slightly and a chill ran down her spine. They had been quickly surrounded, and she was in no situation to argue.

“Easy, Blackie,” she said calmly.

Blackie’s growl softened into a low rumble, but its eyes never left the one wielding the blade.

“Good,” The man murmured from behind her.

Cecillia felt the pressure leave her skin and she stepped forward, turning in an instant to face her attacker. Her eyes widened as they laid upon who it was.

‘Slavers.’

[Spearman]

The man was one of the three who had attacked Doran. A scar lined his jaw and his hair was tousled beneath a hood. His eyes were blank as he scanned her body, not a trace of emotion within them.

Cecillia’s lips turned down into a scowl and she assessed her surroundings. With her increased stats, it wasn’t difficult to find those hiding in sight. In total, there were sixteen of them, with the possibility of there being more.

“What do you want from me?” Cecillia said.

The spearman didn’t reply, but instead raised his head. The sounds of footsteps crunching through the leaves echoed out and a voice she didn’t want to hear entered her ears.

“Oh my, well if it isn’t the Captain’s daughter,” the high pitched voice rang out cheerily.

Cecillia spun to face the newcomer, but the woman was already standing an inch before her.

[Bladesinger]

Shocked at the speed, Cecillia took a stumbling step backwards, but the woman reached out and grabbed the girl’s waist.

“Trying to leave already?” Naira’s voice dripped with amusement as she grinned, “Now why the fuck would I let that happen.”

The woman’s breath was hot against Cecillia’s skin and she felt a twinge of disgust. Her body tensed as she tried to pry herself free, but Naira’s grip was like iron shackles. Cecillia scowled, but the woman only released a taunting laugh.

“Aren’t you a pretty little thing,” Naira leaned in close and her lips brushed against Cecillia’s ear. Her voice was sultry, and would make any man melt. “Delicious.”

Cecillia stiffened as she struggled a little more until the woman finally released her. Her eyes were cold as she glared at the slaver, but she didn’t move. There was no escaping.

“What do you want?” Cecillia muttered.

Naira tilted her head innocently before another laugh sputtered from her mouth. “You’re really asking us what we want from you? Do you think you’re in a position to be asking the questions?”

Cecillia stood silently and the woman continued with undisguised glee. “You already know what we are so I might just pass you over to those men over there. As a trial run of course.”

Naira pointed in the spearman’s direction, behind him were four other dangerous looking men. Cecillia’s gaze followed, and as the men looked at her, she saw scowls crossing their faces.

“Hmm… but your fath—”

“Naira,” The spearman interrupted. “We aren’t monsters. Why don’t you tell her the truth.”

The woman threw her head back and laughed.

“Oh come on Derrick, you just had to go and ruin the fun,” she teased. Naira turned her attention back to Cecillia, her gleaming smile remained.

“Fine, fine,” she said, rolling her eyes dramatically. Her voice became casual, but there was a hidden trace of anger behind her pupils. “The truth is, we’re not really slavers.”

Naira’s words paused there, and Cecillia narrowed her eyes. Nothing that came out of the woman’s mouth was trustworthy.

“Well…” Naira trailed off, “It’s a side hustle we do every now and then, but we haven’t sold anyone in a couple of years.”

Cecillia continued to stare blankly as Naira frowned.

“Hey, girl. Why are you being so quiet?” she asked, pressing a finger to her lip. Her eyes scanned the clearing before she hollered out. “Everyone, come out! You’re making her nervous!”

As her words rang out, numerous people stepped into the clearing. Some hung above in the branches, while some remained slightly hidden, leaning against a trunk or two. Although, the notion didn’t have its intended effect as the numerous people only made it all that much more suffocating for Cecillia.

Her eyes passed along every single person as her expression stiffened. Even fighting against one would be impossible, but with this many, she was as good as dead.