Mel awoke from a restful sleep, even though it had been plagued by nightmares. Seeing her friends cut down by arrows on a repeating reel wasn’t pleasant.

She tried to push them from her mind as she looked through the screen of branches that hid her shelter. [Gaze of the Serpent] showed no signs of trouble.

Rising, Mel stretched the stiffness out of her limbs. Like every day since the death of her friends, she went through a warm-up and training routine to limber her muscles and get her blood pumping. The training started simple enough, stretches and yoga poses that flowed into simple attack patterns with bare hands and feet.

Magi were trained in hand-to-hand fighting almost as much as they studied magic. Mel’s memories brought back the arduous training. She was appalled at how lax she had been.

Eventually, she graduated to a more complex routine of running up the nearest tree, hanging from the lowest branch by her legs, and performing a mix of shadow boxing and hanging crunches. Day by day, she improved and increased the difficulty of her training.

She had another big day ahead of her. Preparation was half of any battle. With the insignia pinned to her breast, she could sneak into their camps with ease and take out the elites, sending the rest of the camp into disarray.

Without their leaders to instill fear and order, the people left usually tore the place apart on their way to freedom. Stolst clearly hadn’t learned the most basic tenet of leading people: fostering trust.

So far, they hadn’t suspected how she was getting in, and Mel was more than happy to leave them scratching their heads. The moment they realized, they would change the insignia’s mana signature to something else.

She was still curious how they did that. She might even have spared the Mage who pioneered that bit of engineering, if she could find them.

Nothing that I couldn’t do if I had F-Tier ritual magic, Mel thought to herself.

It wasn’t that she was a genius or anything. She was skilled, but she wasn’t a nerd like Deklin, or an equally dysfunctional prodigy like Sylvie.

No, her strengths were in her martial prowess. If she had scored a little less on her entrance exams, she might have been an Archivist instead.

I wonder what my name would be then? she wondered. Mandau would be pretty sick.

Archivists assumed the names of fabled weapons found across the Worldshards. Things that most people took to be nothing but fairy tales. Aegis, Caliburn, and well-known ones like Excalibur and Mjollnir.

It was said the name chose the Archivist, giving them their signature weapon at the same moment. As Mel’s memories came back in fits and starts, she felt compelled to find the other Magi.

After, she told herself.

This was her mission. While most Magi would join in to make sure the honor and word of a Magi was unquestioned, this wasn’t their fight.

Mel turned to her loot gained from the last outpost.

[Scroll: Shinobi Parry]

(Copper Rank, Combat Art)

(Uncommon)

An aged scroll from the sect of the Typhoon Blade detailing one of their secret arts in faded script.

Imprint: Grants the Combat Art: [Shinobi Parry]. Item consumed upon use.

[Shinobi Parry]: Deflect an enemy’s attack or magic. Imbues armament with lightning energy, increasing parry effectiveness and window. Scaling influenced by Agility attribute. Usable on bladed weapons.

Synergy: Wind, Lightning, Storm.

That, I could get some use out of, Mel thought as she used the scroll.

You learn the Combat Art [Shinobi Parry].

She summoned her [Soul Kiln], setting her frostbite twinblade inside and applying [Shinobi Parry].

Now that she had a few moments to herself–not like anybody was alive around her–she wondered if she could change the affinity of the twinblade.

Once she opened her inventory again, she realized a problem she had been putting off for quite some time. After killing so many of the Bloodtide Covenant zealots, she had amassed a tidy collection of [Blood Embers].

Mel took her twinblade out, setting it aside. The kiln had been able to combine scrap. Maybe it could do the same here?

She set two Common [Blood Embers] into the kiln and shut the lid, injecting a thread of mana.

Nothing happened.

Right, it’s three, isn’t it?

She had plenty of embers, so she added another.

This time, the kiln warmed and began to glow, light leaking out of its edges.

When Mel opened the box, her grin was bathed in blood-red light as she picked up the [Blood Ember (Uncommon)].

I should’ve realized I could do that sooner!

Mel dumped her [Blood Embers] into the kiln, whittling down her collection. She couldn’t rely on [Blood Tax] to amp up her output from a ritual, so she couldn’t get the rarity incredibly high, but she was more than satisfied with 2 Rare [Blood Embers].

If she ever ran into the Bloodtide Covenant again, Mel would make it a priority to farm them for more embers. In her mind, they were no more than monsters anyway. Why not treat them as such?

“Because once you go down that path, you start seeing people as things, and that’s where trouble starts,” Deklin’s voice spoke to her from her memories.

Don’t give me that shit, Mel thought back at the memory, you literally went to Darrow and became a villain hellbent on world domination. You don’t get to lecture me.

That didn’t mean he was wrong, unfortunately.

Mel put one ember away into her inventory with the other spares. She would need a lot more embers to reach Epic, but she was okay with that. For now, she has a [Blood Ember (Rare)] that she could put to use.

Her twinblade went back in, followed by the Rare ember. Shutting the lid, Mel wasn’t sure what would happen. In a way, the weapon already had an affinity, frostbite.

A lurid light spilled out of the cracks around the lid. When Mel pulled the weapon out, its cold blue coloration was tinged purple from the addition of red.

She stood up, curious how Blood would change the weapon. Mel gave it a few experimental slices through the air. Each slash was accompanied by a spray of scalding blood.

Brutal.

[Frostbite Stinger Twinblade (Blood)]

(Copper Rank, Weapon)

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(Epic)

A twinblade harvested directly from a Frostbite Scorpion, fashioned into this form from the slayer’s Blue and Green tinged Deeds. The double ended stinger-like weapon secretes an unusually potent toxin that inflicts an icy poison.

Imprint: Heightens haste, increasing base attack speed. Inflicts Cold and Poison magic damage.

Imprint: Attacks inflict [Frostbite Toxin]. For each creature afflicted with [Frostbite Toxin], you gain a stack of [Haste].

[Frostbite Toxin]: Deals stacking Cold and Poison damage-over-time with a numbing effect similar to extreme cold.

[Haste]: Increases movement and attack speed.

Imprint(Blood Ember): Inflicts additional Blood damage. Increases damage of bleed afflictions. Increases Vigor attribute scaling effectiveness.

Combat Art: [Shinobi Parry]

Mel was very pleased with the result. She didn’t really expect it to work, considering the stinger already had frost and poison, but she wasn’t going to complain. That meant without adding any other aspect skills into the mix, Mel’s weapon would be inflicting Blood, Cold, and Poison damage all at once.

I wonder if it interacts with my Blood aspect as well. I didn’t know Blood was a type of damage.

That brought up a great deal of questions. Was every aspect type a damage type as well?

Mel put that thought on the back burner. Until she had more time to test things out, preferably with a denizen of this Shardrune to speak to, there wasn’t much use in baseless conjecture.

Technically speaking, with both twinblades in her possession, she could swap between them and use their respective combat arts as she needed. By keeping [Quickstep] on her old twinblade, Mel could summon it and use the art when she needed a burst of speed.

It was a useful tactic that had already saved her life a few times.

[Shinobi Parry] allowed her to do something she couldn’t already do with her blend of aspect skills and equipment.

Parrying a magic spell is going to be wild. I’d hate to be that Mage.

She dismissed her twinblade, pulling out another piece of loot. One she had nearly forgotten about with all the death and mayhem of late.

It feels like a lifetime ago that Heath and I both received a kindling branch. Now, I’m ready to use it.

Mel looked at the glowing Yellow embers on the Dark branch. She squeezed it, sending mana into it.

I hope it gives me something good.

She finally knew what aspect she wanted to use it on.

[Dark Kindling Branch (Yellow)]

Please select an aspect skill to awaken: Divine, Mist, Blood, Serpent, Omen.

Dark felt like it belonged to something equally sinister, like Omen or Blood.

It didn’t escape her notice that her current task was a bloody and dark one.

She might have been channeling her inner 13-year-old self listening to Evanescence on repeat, but she couldn’t help the draw she felt to Omen.

The moment she made her selection, the branch burst into a flare of Yellow flame, leaving her skin completely unblemished.

You awaken the [Bane of Tartarus] Omen aspect skill.

[Bane of Tartarus]

(Omen Aspect)

(Copper, Yellow/Ability)

(Grade 1 [0%])

Cost: Modest

Cooldown: Moderate

Weave together omen curses from the pits of Tartarus into an abyssal swirling sphere of compressed malice. Let the song of the damned ring out for all.

Imprint(Copper Rank): Call upon the power of Tartarus itself, launching a swirling mass of malice like a meteor from your hand. Deals heavy Omen area damage, reduces maximum health, and lowers movement speed.

Wake me up inside, indeed, Mel thought with a grim smile.

Greek was always her favorite mythos.

Never thought I’d actually get to channel a piece of Tartarus itself though, Mel thought with great interest. She could think of nothing more poetic than to send these bastards a love letter from Tartarus itself.

Mel couldn’t help but wonder if she gained this skill in part because of her Divine aspect. Was it possible that the collection of your aspects affected the skills you received? It would stand to reason that there was some sort of influence, but how much was anybody’s guess.

Upgraded and improved, Mel cleaned up her meager campsite and took out one of the maps outlining the Stolst gang hunting patterns.

The last outpost she destroyed was closer to the main plateau the gang was set up on, but still not on the same one. It was clear that they were pulling more and more units from the earlier settlements to go deeper.

Mel had witnessed firsthand just what could be gained from going deeper into the trial, and now she found it ironic that she was heading back to the grassy plains dotted with hills.

The odds were pretty good you passed at least four or five Stolst gang hunting parties that night.

If she had known what she did now…those fires would have winked out one by one.

Better late than never, Mel reminded herself, taking off once more. There was a single hunting party scheduled to hunt groles near the edge of the woods where she had first gone down to the grassy plateau.

She would lack cover down there, but there was nothing she could do about it. Mist would be her ally, as always. It naturally gathered in the hollows between hills, but only an idiot would build a campsite in a hollow.

They’d be up on a hill, probably the tallest one around, which would make it doubly hard for Mel to attack.

But first, I’ve got a party to slaughter.

Of the 13 souls who had taken part in killing Mel’s friends, there were just three names left: David, Melissa, and Jimmy.

----------------------------------------

David and Melissa were slowly dragging Tim back to camp. All three of them were wounded. They had been culling groles in the area for days now, but the creatures were getting smarter and meaner with each fight.

They already lost Walter, Tim might not make it, and Alicia was back at camp holding down the fort with two others in case the creatures made another grab for their meager supplies.

Even with all seven of them on the hunt, they were having a hard time. After the groles raided their camp while they were gone, they had to split up. And that was when things got bad.

“Do you think we messed up?” Melissa asked quietly. “You know…with the whole baby thing.”

“They’re just stupid monsters,” David grunted, repositioning his grip on the makeshift litter they made. “Luring them out of their home by capturing a baby and making it cry was the only bright idea that Tim ever had.”

“Yeah…but that was when things went bad. They attacked our base. I’ve never heard of them doing that! And you know what they say about the Emerald-eyed Demoness.”

“Just campfire stories to scare the recruits. The Stolst gang isn’t going to be bothered by some stupid monster that got the best of a few idiots.”

They had finally reached the outskirts of their camp when Melissa gasped and pointed. David didn’t notice at first because she had dropped Tim unceremoniously onto the rocky ground.

He was about to yell at her when he saw her pointing and followed her finger.

A sphere blacker than night sailed through the morning air. David had no idea what he was looking at, but as it landed in the middle of their campsite, it suddenly expanded.

Aspect Skill: [Bane of Tartarus]

It didn’t explode. That was the weird part.

The globe of darkness let out a shrill cry, like a thousand damned souls all shrieking in pain at once and expanded outward until it entombed the entire campsite.

It vanished a moment later, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake. Black-and-green fires sprung up all over the place. Their defenses were flattened.

There was nothing left.

David dropped Tim and ran, not toward the campsite, which was clearly already lost, but deeper into the woods. Melissa screamed a string of obscenities at his back for leaving her behind.

A chill of dread dripped down David’s spine, dragging his gaze to its source.

“You might not believe in the Emerald-eyed Demoness,” the small woman said, standing on top of an outcropping in front of him, “but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t believe in you .”

The woman pulled back her blood-red hood and grinned at him. “Better start running and hope you can dodge better than my friends you murdered.”

The last thing he saw was a black orb of death growing in her upraised palm.