"Wake him up!"

The soldier’s voice cut through the stillness like a blade.

How could he wake Marcus when he wasn’t even in Artemia anymore? He was back on Earth, most likely doing whatever it is he was doing.

"We should let him rest,” one of the twins, Edward, tried to intervene. “He just came back from a hunt and hasn’t slept for three days straight."

"I said, wake him up!" the soldier snapped at Edward’s words.

“W—” Julian opened his mouth to speak, but another voice cut in—a softer, more reasonable one.

"Ease up, Dirk," another soldier muttered. "If we treat everyone like evil spirits, the people will start hating us. The church is already getting too many complaints about us abusing our power—we don’t want this on our plate."

“That’s… true.”

“When I was in Ethaca just the other day, someone threw a tomato at me—a tomato, and I just washed my uniform.”

Several soldiers murmured in agreement. And hearing their words, Dirk could really only click his tongue, glaring at Marcus for a moment longer before finally turning his sharp gaze to Julian and the twins.

"You two. Move away from the carriage," Dirk ordered, his tone cold.

“You do not need to be harsh.” Jacob said as they complied, stepping away from the carriage. Dirk and the soldiers began asking a series of questions—where they were headed, what business they had, and all sorts of other random questions, and some repeating but just in a different way.

Fortunately for Julian, the questions they were asking were something he could actually answer.

After a tense few minutes, Dirk finally relented.

"Alright. You people don’t seem to be evil spirits,” he sighed.

"Do they even exist?" The other soldiers also started to relax, "Maybe Dirk’s the real evil spirit here, all jumpy and paranoid."

“Pft.”

Julian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He joined the others in laughing–and soon, they were completely in the clear and were allowed to return to the carriage.

But as they were 3 steps away from the carriage—

"Why didn’t you guys wake me up if we were there already!?” Marcus woke up; his words, grumpy and loud as he just suddenly leaped out of the carriage, “I was just checking up on my daughter and—"

"Marcus!" Julian didn’t even think about it—he just quickly rushed over to clamp a hand over Marcus’s mouth.

But alas, it was too late. The damage had been done.

"You... just checked up on your daughter?" one of the soldiers asked, his tone laced with suspicion as all of them once again approached the carriage, “Where…?”

"In... in my dreams!" Marcus stammered, his eyes darting nervously from the soldiers to Julian.

And just like that, the tension that had begun to dissipate returned in full force. The air felt heavy, like a storm was about to break.

"Please approach us," one of the soldiers ordered coldly. Marcus had no choice but to obey, stepping forward with trembling steps.

Julian and the twins tried to follow, but the soldiers quickly barred their path, pushing them back.

"Stay where you are," one barked, his grip on his sword tightening.

The questioning began, sharp and probing. Marcus tried his best to remain calm, his answers coming out rushed and shaky.

Sweat dripped from his brow as he stood before the group of soldiers all glaring at him. And after what felt like an eternity…

…They let him go.

“T…that’s it?” Marcus chuckled nervously.

“Yes, we just wanted to check something,” Dirk gestured to Marcus that he can leave.

“G…great.” Marcus exhaled a shaky breath, relief washing over him as he turned to walk back toward Julian. But just as soon as he neared Julian—

“!!!” Blood sprayed right onto Julian’s face, bright, crimson... hot.

Julian blinked, confusion and shock clouding his mind. A warm, wet sensation hit his face. His hand instinctively reached up to wipe the liquid from his skin, his fingers coming away stained with red.

He looked down… only to see Marcus’s head rolling right next to his feet.

It took Julian a second to register what he was seeing, not only because of the shock—but because he was confused. He had just gained his sight—and the only thing he had seen so far in this world was blood and more blood.

And Earth, according to MEGAN, was supposed to be more violent than this?

Marcus’s body had fallen to the ground, lifeless, a pool of blood spreading beneath it. His head—detached from his neck—stared up at Julian, eyes wide open in a frozen expression of surprise.

Marcus was dead.

"They are evil spirits!" Dirk’s voice roared, snapping Julian out of his stupor. "Kill them all!"

The soldiers drew their swords in unison, even those who had been laughing just moments before. Their faces, once friendly, were now twisted in disgust and hatred as they looked at Julian and the twins—well, only Julian.

Julian’s eyes darted toward the twins, but they were gone—vanished like ghosts.

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“R… Run!” The driver of the carriage tried to flee, but he didn’t even get far when an arrow caught him in the ankle, sending him crashing to the ground with a scream of pain.

“W… wait.” Julian barely had time to think as a sword came swinging at him from behind. He dodged it instinctively, his heart pounding in his ears.

"Wait! I’m not an evil spirit!" he shouted, even though he knew these people weren’t going to listen.

"Silence!" another soldier barked. "Not one more word from your corrupted mouth!"

Julian found himself dodging and weaving through the onslaught of attacks, every move an act of pure survival.

"Please! I don’t want to fight!" he yelled, but his pleas fell on deaf ears, “I’m not an—!?”

And before he could finish his words, his foot caught on something solid, sending him sprawling to the ground butt first—Marcus's body.

Before Julian could even comprehend what was happening, the nearest soldier rushed toward him, sword raised to strike.

Instinctively, Julian’s hand shot out, grabbing the hilt of Marcus's sword, which was sleeping on its sheath attached to his waist. Without thinking, he plunged it into the soldier’s chest, the blade sinking deep into the man’s heart.

“Sh…” For a moment, the world stood still.

“I… I didn’t mean to do that…” Julian stared at the soldier in front of him, his breath coming in shallow gasps. He could feel the vibrations of the sword as it slid through flesh and bone.

“You—” The soldier’s eyes widened in shock, and he stumbled back, blood pouring from the wound.

Julian wanted to vomit. This wasn’t like killing goblins. This was a person—a human being.

The soldier collapsed to the ground before he could finish his words, his body twitching as the last traces of life left him. Julian’s heart pounded in his chest, his pulse so loud he could barely hear the roars of the other soldiers.

But then, something shifted inside him. These people were going to kill him—and if he wanted to survive, if he didn’t want to go back to being blind, he had to kill them first…

…and kill he will.

A dark smile crept across Julian’s face, his fingers tightening around the hilt of Marcus’ sword. His breathing slowed, his heart no longer racing with fear and shock, but with something far… far more dangerous—Satisfaction.

"He… he killed Nate! Kill… kill him!" one of the soldiers screamed, his voice tinged with panic.

Two soldiers rushed at Julian at the same time, their swords gleaming in the sunlight. But this time, Julian was done dodging.

He charged.

The first soldier didn’t even have time to react as Julian’s sword cleaved through his torso, cutting him clean in half. Blood sprayed into the air, and Julian could feel the blade hum in his hand. It was sharp, refined—nothing like the crude goblin swords he had used before.

The second soldier barely managed to block Julian’s attack, but it wasn’t enough. Julian’s strength was overwhelming, and with a single, fluid motion, he sliced through the soldier’s defenses, cutting him down where he stood.

The bodies hit the ground with a wet thud, but Julian didn’t stop. His heart raced with adrenaline, his mind clouded by the thrill of battle.

"Stop!" a voice rang out, cutting through the chaos, “He obviously has a higher level than all of you. Seriously, where did the church even get you from?”

Julian looked up to see Dirk stepping forward, his sword already drawn. The other soldiers who were about to rush Julian halted their steps, before ultimately giving way to Dirk.

"I will face this evil spirit myself," Dirk said, his voice filled with conviction. He then held his sword in front of him, whispering a prayer under his breath. And as he did so, a soft glow surrounded him, light enveloping his entire body… until he just suddenly vanished from his spot.

"!!!" Julian's instincts flared, and he dodged to the side just in time to avoid Dirk’s blade. The tip of Dirk’s sword grazed his arm, leaving a shallow cut.

If he had been even a fraction of a second slower, he would have lost the entire limb… and Dirk wasn’t done.

He attacked again, faster and faster, his movements almost too quick for Julian to track. Every time Julian dodged, Dirk was already there, his sword a blur of light and steel. Soon, Julian was covered in cuts, his body aching with every movement.

Then, with a powerful kick to Julian's stomach, Dirk sent him flying back.

"Kh…!!!" The force of the kick was almost as strong as the Daemon’s—no. It might even be stronger as Julian found himself violently rolling across the ground, gasping for air.

Before he could even get up, Dirk was already there, stabbing him through the shoulder with terrifying precision.

Julian grit his teeth against the pain, trying to focus. He could sense Dirk’s attacks, feel the way the air shifted with every strike. But his body was just… too slow—he couldn’t keep up.

“That’s all you have?” Dirk then sheathed his sword as a smirk grew on his face, “By the way you’re moving, I’m guessing you’re around level 9—but tough luck.”

Dirk then just stopped talking as he began toying with him, slapping Julian’s cheek and kicking him, breaking and beating him down bit by bit.

Still, throughout all of this, Julian actually had a smile on his face.

Julian knew.

He knew he was going to die here, his clone was. There was no way he could win. Dirk was just… too fast. But somehow, that knowledge didn’t scare him.

He had fought, and for the first time in years, he had seen the world around him. This was enough.

Soon, Julian’s back hit the wooden wheels of the carriage, his body slumped against it. His face was bruised, his clothes torn and soaked with blood. Dirk stood in front of him, smirking as he unsheathed his sword again.

"Let’s end this," Dirk said, his voice dripping with smug confidence. "Be gone to where you came from, evil spirit."

Julian looked up at him, still smiling, his hand gripping Marcus’s sword. This was it. He was going to lose his eyes again, return to a world of darkness, back on Earth where no one appreciated his craft. His existence.

But he wasn’t going to close his eyes.

If this was going to be his end, he was going to see it. Every second.

"May Artemis guide me," Dirk prayed, his sword raised high.

“...Guide?” And suddenly, a thought entered Julian’s mind and he quickly whispered,

"...Guidance.”

[STATUS]

Name: Julian Winters

Class: No Class

Level: 3

Health (HP): 38/80

Mana (MP): ??/??

Stamina (SP): 97/150

Strength: 9

Agility: 5

Vitality: 6

Mana: ?

Perception: 15

Free Points: 9

Skills:

You have no skills yet. Please select a class as soon as possible.

Abilities:

Hyper Instinct - Due to some unknown factor undetected by the [Guidance of Artemis], your senses are highly abnormal. All Skills affected by Perception will have increased effectiveness.

Active Quests:

* Mana Evaluation

* Master of Shadows

Explore the world to gain more quests.

[End of STATUS]

Even though Julian couldn’t read it, the Guidance of Artemis quickly filled his mind with the information.

And without hesitation, without thinking, he muttered the words that could change everything.

"Put… all my free points in agility," Julian whispered, his voice strained.

For a brief moment, nothing happened. Then, a sudden, excruciating pain ripped through his body. Every muscle, every fiber in his being seemed to contort and twist as if his body was being torn apart and remade at the same time.

“Ho…” It was unbearable, like his bones were shattering and rebuilding themselves in rapid succession. Julian’s vision blurred, his breath hitched in his throat, and he bit down hard on his lip to stop himself from screaming.

The pain was overwhelming, yet somehow, in that eternity of suffering, he felt it.

"Tch, you are at your end…" Dirk scoffed as he saw Julian in pain. And soon, he brought his sword down with terrifying force, “...Die!”

But Julian was no longer there.

In the blink of an eye, Julian moved. It was as if he became the wind, swift and fluid. One moment, Dirk’s blade was about to cut him down, and in the next, Julian stood behind him, his hand already gripping Marcus’ sword tightly.

And without hesitation, without mercy, Julian drove the sword deep into the back of Dirk’s neck. The blade slid between the vertebrae with ease, cutting through flesh and bone as if they were nothing.

Dirk’s eyes widened in shock, his body stiffening as the light of Artemis that had surrounded him flickered and died. Blood spilled from the wound, staining the ground beneath them. Julian could hear Dirk’s labored breath as the life drained from his body, his legs giving out as he crumpled to the ground, lifeless.

Julian stood over Dirk’s fallen form. For a moment, he was still, the world around him eerily quiet.

Then, a dark smile crept onto his face. Slowly, he raised his head, the adrenaline surging through him like a wild fire. His grip on the sword tightened as his smile widened into a grin.

“Well then…” Julian muttered, his voice low and sinister, his eyes glinting with a newfound thrill.

“This… is going to be fun.”