There was a moment of silence where the cold hands of death tightly gripped around throats. Cecillia could see it on their frozen faces that she wasn’t the only one to have seen the blaring notification flashing before her eyes. She felt her muscles growing weak, her mind becoming sluggish as the effects of her bonus stat points melted away into nothingness. The artificial strength, power that had been gained at a touch of a button was no more. In this moment of time, she was but an ordinary person, in an ordinary girl’s body, living in an unfair world.
Yet even then, the moment was stretched like a bow’s string before time resumed with an explosive bang. Cecillia felt the pressure in the air surrounding her body drop, then vanishing before a massive wave of howling wind rushed through the cavern. Rings of surging shockwaves slammed into her chest, causing her her hair to wildly flail in all directions. She was nearly blown off of Blackie’s back, tightly clutching the creature’s fur before her eyes widened.
“NO!!!”
Laen’s shout echoed across the cavern while numerous other screams from the villagers followed. They were flung away like thin sheets of paper. Those at the rear were crushed beneath the ones that had smashed into them.
Blackie released a threatening growl, the wolf’s claws unsheathing and digging long daggers into the cave’s floor. Bluey pulled tightly at her scalp, the pain being much more intense without the effects of her stats.
As the waves of oncoming blasts died down, Cecillia noticed that only a couple dozen remained standing. She assumed that they were at least higher than level ten, but did the levels really matter when they were all inflicted under the same status effect? The thought disappeared almost as quickly as it came as the villagers only existed in her peripheral vision. Her heart hammered in her chest for her eyes could not break away from the captain.
‘Doran.’
The man was suspended in the air, his body convulsing as a single tendril, emerging from the darkest depths of the Tunnels of Kaust drove itself deep into the captain’s flesh. Protruding out of his back, the darkness spread across his skin while blood seeped into a pool below him. He released a pained groan and another rush of wind boomed through the tunnels.
“Run! Run for your lives!” A shaky voice screamed, echoing through the chaos.
Cecillia wasn’t able to locate the source, but her body’s primal instinct most definitely shared the thought. She wanted to run, to escape from the feeling of pure dread. But the captain was still out there, and his son…
She found the boy with his drawn little bow. His steps slapping against the cold, uneven stone of the tunnel floor. He seemed considerably slower as the full effects of the debuff bore down atop of him, but that didn’t affect his desperation at all. She knew that even with the grave danger that was beyond his father, someone like him would stop at nothing.
‘Laen… wait.’
Cecillia couldn’t see the details of his face within the dying torchlight, but his shouts were all that she needed to hear.
“Dad! I’ll save you!”
A scowl appeared on her face and the cold feeling that permeated through her mind. She ignored it. Her rationality that screamed in the back of her head; for the first time, it would not be acknowledged.
“Blackie. Please.”
Her whisper was all that was needed and the ground beneath the wolf’s claws exploded. The air stung her eyes, the speed of their acceleration much too high for her statless body to handle, but pain had already been a nonfactor.
“Faster,” she growled.
Cecillia pressed her body flat against the wolf, her knuckles turning white from the force of her grip. She was barely able to see the boy’s form, marching towards death itself through her shaky vision. Past him, quadrants of beady red eyes stared glowingly through the darkness of the caverns. They invited her to share in a meal of sadistic agony.
“No!” the words tore from her throat. “Laen! Come back!”
From his position, he wouldn’t be able to see what she was seeing. But even if he did—Laen paused for a split second, his head turning, eyes locking with hers. The boy didn’t say anything. Lips not even moving an inch, but the message within those innocent orbs was clear.
“Laen…”
The look in his eyes was something she recognized from new soldiers. Determination, bravery and acceptance. Although, the boy also carried a hint of desperation and he turned his gaze away to plead alone. Drawing a single arrow, mana surged around his being, coalescing into a blinding light as the sparking energy ignited in his palm.
Cecillia heard him roar and the light containing all of his fury ricocheted around the tunnels. The sound created was like a sharp, high-pitched whistle, slicing through the air like a sleek blade. The very walls trembled, but Cecillia knew that his arrow could produce nowhere close to that amount of energy. Dust sifted from the ceiling, pebbles crashing down to the ground as the rumbling within Kaust was soon accompanied by a low guttural groan.
[Entropic Abberath - (Level ???)]
Cecillia reached out instinctively, but a sudden sharp crack echoed and the boy's body slumped against the cold stone wall. A cry built within her throat, but before it could be released she felt a tingling against her neck. Her mind didn’t even have a moment’s grace to process the feeling before her world lit up with blue light. A sharp tinkling of shattered glass filled her ears and pain, piercing scalding pain erupted within her right shoulder. Cecillia was flung from Blackie’s back, but as she fell her blue eyes reflected a sorrowful scene.
“Bluey!”
[Your servant ‘Bluey’ is in critical condition!]
The Magic Ice Transformation had materialized around the slime, protecting its body with an armor of glistening ice. Though all she saw were shards, crackling apart with a deafening snap as fractures spiderwebbed across Bluey's body. They shimmered for a second, before the ice shattered, exploding outwards into a burst of frozen mist.
Cecillia clenched her teeth and she was thrown against the ground, tumbling several times before smashing against a large stone with a weak groan. Blackie released a thundering roar, its head swiveling between its master and fellow servant, but the wolf was powerless as in the next second, its body was slammed into the faraway wall.
Cecillia’s vision swam, and she was just barely able to see the thin tendril that had struck her retracting into the depths. She tried to raise her head, but her neck and entire body felt stiff as if it would collapse beneath any sort of exertion. Yet she pushed through it, coughing out a mouthful of blood while her blurred eyes searched for her companions. All the while, screams and groans that didn’t belong to fear, but of twisted pain filled the space.
The fresh, iron tang of blood filtered into her nose and the tunnels of Kaust were plunged into the throes of death. Bones snapped, skulls exploding as countless tendrils whipped through human flesh. A man’s body landed with a squelch before her. His face was pale, eyes hanging open lifelessly while a thin stream of blood trickled from a deep gash within his forehead.
Cecillia reeled back as best as she could, but the body vanished when a tendril slithered around his waist, pulling him into the distant gaping maw. She released a shallow gasp when she heard the sickening crunch that followed. Although, there was no time to mourn and she was forced to roll to the side. Her injured shoulder screamed, but she threw herself to the ground just before the stone where she just was shattered. The tendril pulled back before once again snapping towards her with an ear-splitting crack. Cecillia tried to push herself but the strength just wasn’t there… or was it?
‘Fifty-Eight, Fifty-Nine… Sixty!’
[You have adapted to the Abberation’s dominion. All stats have been restored.]
The ebbing power of the system that had once fleeted away now returned in the form of a brilliant warmth. Her body exploded off the ground and she was just barely able to avoid the oncoming attack. Yet it wasn’t all that easy, all that the stats did was bring the impossible into the realm of barely feasible. Cecillia ducked and the tendril sheared several strands from her hair. The slicing wind razored thin cuts in her cheeks and the hotness of blood wetted her lips.
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Thankfully, the tendril seemed to leave her alone for the time being and decided to shoot for another victim. Cecilllia released a ragged breath and staggered to a single knee. The pain in her shoulder was slowly dissipating while her constitution stat worked overtime.
Remaining like so for no more than a second, she broke into a sprint. Her body was lighter than ever, adrenaline fueling her brimming muscles to their maximum capacity. Bluey she prayed Blackie would save, but she eyed the boy’s unconscious body nearly thirty meters away. He had saved her from the saber wolf that day and right now, she was the only one that Laen had. It was time to repay the favor.
Sucking in a deep breath, she waited for the tendrils to fall, a crater appearing in the stone just a mere foot away before her form flickered. She closed the distance in seconds with a few close calls and pressed her body flat against the wall. Beads of sweat rolled down her face while the lactic acid that had built up in her untrained legs left them feeling like lead.
Regardless, Cecillia glanced down with a heaving chest. The boy lay unconscious, his lips slightly opened to release shallow, ragged breaths. His abdomen rose and fell weakly and she winced at the sight of the massive dark bruise spreading across his side. She spotted his arrow and quiver, both cleanly snapped into a number of pieces. They were gone, and would be for good.
She knelt down and placed a cool hand on his forehead, but a frown appeared on her face.
“It’s hot already,” Cecillia muttered.
Her frown turned down into a scowl and she somehow managed to maneuver the boy into a seated position. That seemed to help with his breathing, but the fever caused from his injuries continued to burn. From what he had told her his stats in endurance and constitution were quite good for his level, but being hit like that without the system’s blessing.
“Come on, Laen,” Cecillia urged, softly tugging his arm. “We have to go.”
She took a glimpse towards the tunnel’s abyss and grimaced at the sight. The aberration had wrapped several more tendrils around the captain’s body, dangling him like a piece of bait. Somehow, he had managed to hold on but his strength was visibly slipping away.
“Leave me…”
Cecillia almost heard a whisper, but it was unclear. She looked past the man and her eyes narrowed into serrated daggers. One of those glowing red orbs stared into her soul, goading her, as if to say go ahead and try. Cecillia tilted her head downwards, glancing at the boy before once again raising her head.
She raised a single brow, and a thin smile crossed her lips.
“Fuck.”
Cecillia knew that there wasn’t much time left, rather the seconds were trickling away with every rapid beat of her thumping heart. She was aware of the amount of villagers left, and thankfully about half had escaped to decent safety. But of those that were left behind, that number was rapidly decreasing with every deafening crack. As cruel as it was, they would have to serve as her bait.
“Okay,” Cecillia whispered. “Just hang on tight…”
She wrapped one of Laen’s arms around her neck and hoisted his body over her good shoulder. His body felt comparatively light compared to Gordon’s, but since he was still about the same size as her her movement would be affected slightly. Once he was secure, Cecillia rose to her height and summoned her interface.
[Available Stat-Points: 50]
She was increasingly aware of the unallocated stats, and with the King’s Valor, she effectively had a hundred’s worth of stats at her hand at any moment. It was tempting to just toss everything into agility and make a break for safety. But the current threat wasn’t immediate. It would be nothing but a waste if she revealed her trump card now, it was just too soon. Though—she released a shaky sigh. She did run the risk of greater danger….
“Goddamnit,” Cecillia glared at the number before closing the screen. “Damn it all.”
Laen’s breath was hot against her ear, his weakening heartbeat thudding against her back. No time to think, no time to rest, no time to think twice and Cecillia started moving. There were only two fading torchlights, but her vision had already adjusted to a decent degree. Cecillia remained crouched, sticking close to the wall, praying to whatever was out there that they wouldn’t look appealing. But how wrong could she be? She felt those crimson glowing eyes piercing through the darkness, dissecting her flesh like a frenzied scientist’s experiment.
The number of villagers had thinned, and those that were still alive scrambled to escape with their lives. Cecillia's mouth went dry, her tongue feeling like sandpaper and she increased her pace. She did her best not to flinch whenever the deafening boom and subsequent scream rang into the air; for she knew that with every death, the chances of them being next increased exponentially.
Still, she grit her teeth. The flickering lights of the rest of the caravan felt so far away. And everywhere she looked made her sick to her stomach. Blood and torn apart corpses were splattered about without a sense of tidiness. These were people that she had shared a meal with, had even conversated with. Normal people that didn’t deserve to…
Cecillia’s eyes widened and her legs instinctively summoned all their strength, jerking her forward. Shards and splinters of exploding debris pelted into her blouse, breaking the skin on certain sections of her back. A prickling sensation burned on her neck. For the first time, she was thankful for the decade of combat she was forced to live that enabled her to build up such instincts.
Laen flew off her back, his limp body slamming to the ground with a heavy thud several meters away. She waited frozen for a second, maybe thinking that he would wake up. But the impact didn’t appear to jolt him at all. No… rather he remained motionless, except his condition had gotten increasingly worse.
Cecillia realized, belatedly, that the boy had without a shadow of a doubt sustained internal injuries. Even with the system, would he even—since when did she think this much… Ever since arriving within Elysia, her mind had constantly been awake, whispering the things that she did or didn’t want to hear.
Fight or die.
It had been her adopted creed for countless years, and yet, since when had she abandoned that way of life. The military, the forced circumstances. She had become the reaper, death itself, so when was it that a robot like her possessed anything other than rationality.
The rushing of scything winds crashed into her ears, the same prickling sensation emerging and a hollow choked laugh left her lips… that’s right. The glint of the iron band caught her eye. Since when had she considered herself to be a soldier when had been nothing more than a little girl.
“Screw the creed, screw it all!” she laughed, tears coming to her eyes. “Isn’t that funny Laen? I’ve spent my whole entire life playing pretend. Valkyrie, angel of death… HAHA. Just watch kid, I’ll tell you why those fucks didn’t call me the king for nothing.”
Turning around, Cecillia faced the tendril with nothing but a manic grin carrying pure bliss and ecstasy.
[You have used Fifty unallocated stat-points!]
[Your Strength Attribute is raised to eighty!]
Both hands were raised high above her hand, and the single tendril slammed down against her hands. Cecillia was pushed into the ground, her legs, core, arms, wrists all screaming in piercing pain. Her bones creaked, the pressure unable to be sustained by such a weak skeletal structure. Was it a mistake?
“Probably.”
But the grin on her face only spread, pain was nothing more than motivation after all. Cecillia bit down on her lip, crimson veins spreading across the whites of her eyes while trickles of blood streamed down from her nose. The pressure continued to build and however much she braced her core, there was no stopping the splintering feeling spreading in her body.
“Oh don’t even think about it,” Cecillia shook with laughter. “This is just the beginning… of the end!”
With a screaming, crazed roar, she summoned every last ounce of strength left within her. Slowly, the tendril started to rise, the dark, visceral flesh shuddering and stretching before giving way, splitting apart with a sickening tear?
“Cook!” A voice boomed. “What the fuck are you doing?!”
Cecillia turned instantly, her eyes widening as the head chef’s voice tore her down from the seventh heaven of euphoria and ecstasy.
[Hidden Effect ‘Mental Haze’ has been broken.]
She didn’t even have to read the notification, but her mind suddenly felt all that much clearer. Cecillia stared blankly at Chef Diana’s rippling figure, the woman if she could even be called one had muscles that bulged straight out of the bloodied apron. There was a thin fiery aura surrounding her skin, much like Naira’s albeit much weaker in intensity.
“Quit gawking girl!” The woman barked. “What the hell are you doing spewing bullshit to yourself like that? Do you want to die?!”
Cecillia was unable to respond and she only continued to quietly stare at the chef. Diana shook her head and her gaze loomed over into the darkness where Doran hung meters away from the monster. Even in his condition, he had managed to buy this much time. The chef released a heavy sigh and turned away from the sight.
“We’re going,” she ordered. “That man… will live in our hearts.”
The woman stepped over to Laen’s still unconscious body, effortlessly lifting the boy up with a single hand before slinging him over a shoulder. Without waiting for Cecillia she started to walk towards safety.
The chef only took a couple of steps before Cecillia quickly followed. Doran weighed heavily on her mind, but hope had long been lost. She glanced back at his body, her steps dragging behind her. There was a pulsating light flashing around the hand of his soon to be corpse. Her eyes narrowed at the sight that resembled a bomb. Was he planning to sacrifice himself so that they could escape?
The thought faded from her mind when Laen seemed to almost stir. His eyelids fluttered open, just barely wide enough to reveal the faintest flicker of consciousness. His gaze darted past Cecillia’s dainty form, back towards the darkness where his abandoned father hung as the Willow’s Martyr.
She saw his pupils shake and blood streamed down from her bitten lip. Laen’s eyes quickly found hers and her own blue orbs trembled.
“Please…”
The boy’s voice was barely more than a whisper. A plea filled with sorrow and desperation from the powerless. Where had she seen something like this before… The look in his eyes was something she recognized deep within her heart. Blank, lost, and confused. From the fragmented trapped memories of the shattered mirror, it was the same emptiness, the same distant gaze of longing, of desperation.
“P-promise me…” Laen pleaded.
Tears welled up in his eyes before streaming down his face, and the image resembled what he really was. He was just a boy, just like how she used to be just a little girl. Masquerading as something more… pitiful really.
The chef’s steps slowed and she glanced back over her shoulder. The look on her face had hardened beyond measure and her eyes burned with the fury of the hottest kitchens. But there was a faint gentleness hidden behind the wrinkles in her skin. Something that Cecillia hadn’t managed to see until this very moment.
“Cecillia,” Diana spoke, her voice booming through the cave. “I know what you really are. No matter how much you want it to be, you do not belong in the kitchen. You are a fighter, not someone who should be stuck behind a stove.”
Cecillia looked into the chef’s eyes before she slowly nodded and turned back towards Laen. He matched her gaze, the light in his eyes waning as his lids slowly closed over themselves. She sensed his consciousness slipping away but no more than two words needed to be said. A hardly noticeable smile cracked onto the boy’s face right as he fell unconscious.
“I promise.”