Flying, Vallynor collided with a wall, making a small hole filled with cobwebs. A cloud of dust rose, and hiding, Vallynor slowly descended to the ground.

"Phew, it's a good thing I'm not alive." "I would be screaming in pain and coughing from this dust."

"You're right. Resilient like a cockroach. It's just a shame that I can't fully use the power of the mother. Her power of nature essentially embodies life. Your eternal enemy."

Vallynor stood up and looked at his hands, which slowly turned black, returning to their original form. When he first appeared in this world, he was an African homeless man.

Frowning, Vallynor heard a faint creak. "Oh, damn!" he thought and jumped aside with the help of a hand coming out of the ground. He flew sideways as his hand was pierced by an arrow.

"It's all repeating itself," said the beautiful girl with a taut bow in her hand, after which she released another arrow at Vallynor in flight.

From the wall behind Vallynor, tentacles came out, which caught him and quickly threw him back. He himself quickly returned to the wall. The arrow only managed to destroy the end of the tentacle and stopped in the wall, disappearing.

"Hmm, cute," the enemy smirked, and he released three arrows at the still-flying Vallynor.

Again, with the help of tentacles, he was thrown back, but this time the arrows turned and flew straight after Vallynor.

"Pursuing arrows?" Vallynor looked surprised as he watched the three arrows flying after him, then pondered what to do.

A huge hand came out of the ground, catching Vallynor, and another similar hand came out in front of the arrows to stop them. One arrow, passing halfway through the hand, stopped. The second arrow pierced the first hand and stopped on the second hand, which hid Vallynor. The third arrow, having pierced both hands, hit Vallynor's left hand, where he held a bag of ashes.

Vallynor didn't know what to do with the bag, and the first thing that came to mind was to throw the ashes at the enemy. That's what he did, but nothing happened. Except that he got an arrow in the face, which he managed to block with his scythe, leaving a small crack.

And now all the ashes scattered in the air, falling on the scythe and on Vallynor himself, whose hands were covered with the spell of the dead earth.

Vallynor, stepping out from under the huge hand, looked at the beauty with a masculine gaze, who was coldly staring at him. Pointing her bow at him, she smirked. For some reason, he could not see a girl in her and always thought he was looking at a transvestite with a surprise under his feet.

Slowly, the cloud of ash was increasing instead of decreasing. Fortunately or not, Vallynor could see through the ash. He did not understand how he was able to see through it.

"What kind of strange spell did you use, little necromancer? I can no longer see you. Did you think that if I didn't see you, I wouldn't be able to attack you? How naive you are." Pointing her bow at the ash cloud, she shot arrow after arrow in all directions.

Vallynor, seeing the flying arrows, quickly dodged or used his scythe as a shield. But even then, sometimes an arrow hit him, either because he didn't see it in time or because he jumped on it, thinking he would be faster than the arrow. Idiot.

Fortunately, Vallynor restored his strength by sucking energy from corpses and turning them into dried mummies, which then turned into ash.

Arrows from the bow were continuously flying, and the smirk slowly disappeared from the girl's face. Seeing how the cloud of ash, which was black as darkness itself, was getting bigger with each shot fired, she had never seen arrows flying out of a cloud before.

Of course, it could be explained that all the arrows hit the little necromancer. But the arrows were flying in all directions; the enemy was not some fat monster but just a person who was not even two meters tall.

The cloud had grown so much that it almost reached the girl with the bow. Feeling something wrong, she jumped away from the cloud. At that moment, the nearest cloud turned into a multitude of neat female hands that grabbed the flying girl.

The ashy hands pounced on the flying girl and caught her in a few seconds. Screaming, she released a bright green ring, trying to break free from their grip.

However, instead of crumbling, the ash hands received no harm and, on the contrary, grew larger and stronger.

"Darn. This must be the ash from that witch," the girl muttered angrily, and she released a poisonous gas that quickly enveloped the ash hands holding her and began to slowly absorb them.

As she struggled to break free, a sudden pain gripped her soul and body.

"Aaaa. You dared to attack my soul, you insignificance," she cried out, experiencing a new wave of pain. The poisonous gas quickly turned into a sword and sliced through the ash hands and the hands of Vallynor's soul.

"Aaaa!" Vallynor screamed, feeling a sharp pain as if a knife had been plunged into his soul.

"I see, you weren't ready for that. Didn't you know that such a trick is very easy to counter? Better tell me how you figured out how to activate the ash from that kargi." The girl sneered and jumped several times away from the growing ash cloud. Vallynor watched the cloud with apprehension as his body felt strange sensations. He tried to understand what the ash was doing to his body.

"You activated it yourself with an arrow," the girl said, rising and spitting out the words with a malicious smirk.

"You mean I got lucky? ... Darn, this must be the hero effect. How did you manage to attract this effect to yourself? What have you done?" She yelled, directing her bow at the ash cloud and beginning to shoot dark arrows.

"What hero effect?" "I've never heard of it," Vallynor asked, surprised, even though she was his enemy.

Instead of answering, the girl stopped and pondered. Vallynor himself hid in the ash, waiting for an answer. He took the Necronomicon from his hand. Opening it, he showed the white pages of paper. Words quickly appeared on these pages:

[New mission!!!

You have learned that something is hidden from you, but it affects you and your thoughts.

Objectives: free yourself from the hero effect or minimize its influence on you.

Reward: a lesson from ancient necromancers, 1 hour]

After reading everything, Vallynor confirmed that the hero effect must be very important if he received a task for it. He was also puzzled by the reward in the form of a lesson from an ancient necromancer.

"I can't understand how such a boy could become infected with this unpleasant, even cursed effect. Every hero has this effect, and anyone who has it is very difficult to kill, almost like cockroaches. It also brings tremendous luck. You, as a person from a world without magic, may have read fairy tales about heroes who always defeat their enemies. But even if this effect is so useful, it envelops you with chains, slowly turning your values into heroic ones. Essentially, it is more harmful than helpful," she began to explain mockingly, while thinking about what to do with this mess. "But the most interesting thing is that you can get it if you become a hero or were one in a previous life. If that's not the case, then your soul must contain something... Really?... If so, I'll find out when I get it."

"If there is a hero effect, there must be a villain effect too, right?" - While Vallynor recovered, trying to come up with a way to defeat the enemy, he began to ask questions. Maybe he would be lucky and get an answer.

"Yes, you're right. Those who possess this effect are doomed to failure, and many... say. Damn," she widened her eyes, realizing something. While her quickly mocking face disappeared, revealing anger, her hands clenched. Understanding that she herself had fallen under such an effect, she asked, "So, you've been infected with the villain effect, which makes you think like this?"

"What I'm saying is a lot. I'm not..." Unexpectedly, his eyes opened completely, as if he realized something. Quickly hitting himself in the face, he silenced himself.

After that, she created a long whip from willow branches and vertically attacked the ash clouds, catching the stunned Vallynor off guard.

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Vallynor flew straight towards the ravaged enemy, ready to tear and devour their soul, causing pain like a true demon.

The whip, which caught Vallynor, held him tightly, depriving him of mobility. Hands of his soul sprouted from his back, which lunged at the whip, trying to free their owner. Another part of the hand lunged at the ravaged beauty, who opened her mouth several times and then closed it again.

The soul's hands, which had almost reached the girl, flew to the side with a careless blow.

"You are trying to attack me with this spell, which was created to help in everyday life. What a shame. And how did you manage?" Her eyes widened again, and she quickly fell silent. After that, she lunged at Vallynor and began to fiercely attack him with her small fists, even though she looked like a fragile, beautiful flower. It was only an illusion; in reality, could she or he? I don't know how to address the enemy. The body is female, but the soul is male, and still he is a son. How should I address him: Miss Transvestite?" "How to address Transvestite...?" "Oh, I'm screwed."

"Yes, you're screwed, you disgusting monster." The beauty was already hitting Vallynor fiercely, but his words greatly angered her, and she hit with all her might, so that Vallynor's body crunched and bent in incredible poses—a perfect split, his head reaching his stomach, and he could have given himself a blowjob.

"I spent too much time with you. I..."—falling silent, she stopped and jumped three meters aside, running away from the ash, which tried to catch her again.

Looking at how the maimed Vallynor was shrouded in clouds of ash, she slowly released a dark green mist. Catching the mist with her hand, she sharply turned it into a knife. After turning it a few times in different directions, she placed the knife on the edge of her lips and, pushing her lips forward as if wanting to kiss the air, cut off her own lips.

Black blood began to flow from the wound. With her free hand, she hid her severed mouth. After three seconds had passed, she lowered her hand, revealing her grown and fused lips, from which she no longer had a mouth. Only the remaining black blood reminded her that there were once cute and beautiful lips there.

"Who's this madman in a skirt? Regretting that I'm essentially undead and don't feel anything?" Vallynor mockingly asked as several corpses appeared before her. Hands emerged from the ruined floor, which helped Vallynor touch the corpses while she herself recited a spell and sucked everything out of them. Slowly recovering from her terrible injuries, she noticed other hands and tentacles attacking the girl who had created the whip again. While Vallynor was recovering from the damage, the girl fought off persistent hands and tentacles that quickly hid when she was ready to destroy them.

"Ugh..." Rising, Vallynor began to move her hands and neck, checking if her bones had healed.

Watching the beauty jump without those sexy lips, he thought about how he would drag this transvestite into ashes.

While he was thinking, the girl unexpectedly fell to her knees, and her body began to fill with gray veins. She wanted to scream but couldn't because she had no mouth. One of her hands rose and quickly turned into a clawed paw that struck her in the face.

After the first blow came the second. When the mountainous dragon paw tried to attack for the third time, its hand was stopped by another hand that had not yet turned into a dragon paw.

Surprise and anger were seen in the girl's eyes. Sometimes sadness and pity flickered in those eyes. While one hand was trying to attack, the other was holding back. Then a tail grew out from behind, which struck its owner, causing her to fly.

"What's going on here?" Vallynor watched in surprise as Beauty hit herself. The question of why she had hit herself was missing from the full picture.

Raising her head, Beauty wanted to scream but couldn't. After that, as if against her will, she turned back into a dragon.

Turning back into a dragon, she regained her mouth and was able to emit powerful cries full of pain, anger, and sadness.

As she rose, her right paw attacked the dragon's head, causing her to fall to the ground. Her left hand tried to stop her right paw, while her tail attacked her back, and her wings repelled every blow.

While the dragon was fighting on the body where it joined the neck, a crack suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The crack on the body quickly grew, revealing the gray flesh hidden under the scales. Part of the flesh quickly grew, after which, tearing apart, it showed Vallynor how the dragon's second head quickly appeared and grew.

"What is this? "Vallynor watched in surprise as the enemy grew a second head and the body itself shrank slightly, losing internal carbon and fats.

The second head, newborn and looking at the first with pity, attacked the first. The first, roaring, looked at Vallynor, or rather, at the ashes that had spread and already occupied more than half of the hall.

"Youuu." The first head shouted one word and received a blow.

"Vallynor, please help us find peace." While the first head was being attacked and trying to defend itself somehow, the second turned to the clouds of ash and looked closely at one point, as if seeing where Vallynor was.

"Mom, don't bother me! I don't want to be a puppet and herd like you. I deserve more than what you've given me. You're a terrible mother," the first head said, recovering once again and beginning to counterattack fiercely.

"Yes, I'm a terrible mother. What kind of mother am I if I can't help my wayward son? I've lost too many of my children. I thought I had lost you too. If that's going to happen today, I'll save you before it does," the old woman said sadly.

"Hahaha!" the son retorted heatedly, yelling at his mother. "Says the one who has been cold to us for centuries. She was the one who was deceived by me and ate her own children, showing that she has no motherly heart. How can you call yourself a mother?"

"You're right. I'm a terrible mother. It's all my fault. But let me do something for my child in my final hours," the old woman confessed.

"You have no right. Better leave your body to me and don't interfere," the son said.

"I can't let you continue to commit such terrible crimes. No, I have to stop you," he said, increasing his right paw and hitting the first head hard, knocking it to the ground.

"You won't be able to stop me. I'll eat the boy and you. And then I'll take what this ghost is hiding," the son said, releasing a green mist that quickly engulfed his paw, destroying and devouring it. Green claws appeared on the ends of his left paw, and he attacked the second head.

"So you know. I can't leave you alone," the son said, covering his wounded paw with a green color, causing it to regenerate. The second head attacked the first one.

Vallynor had been watching and listening all this time. But when they stopped talking and started fighting, he seemed to awaken and quickly create soul hands, ordering them to attack the dragon.

"How dare you interfere in family quarrels?" the first head shouted, gathering air to exhale onto all the invisible hands.

"Vallynor, don't attack the soul. We only have one soul," the old woman shouted, striking the first head as it prepared to spit out the breath. The blow turned its head, and it spat out a strong dark-green cloud directly into the wall, which began to eat away at it and destroy it upon contact.

Invisible hands penetrated through the wound on the chest, attacking the very soul, and tore out a piece. Vallynor felt his soul being attacked as if a dragon had headed straight for it. Several hands of his soul turned into tentacles and attacked in response to the spiritual attack in the form of a dragon.

The spiritual tentacles caught the throat and body of the dragon, not allowing it to move. At the same time, the torn piece of the enemy's soul was immediately thrown into his own. The cursed children who were in his soul quickly helped prevent it from collapsing and dismantled it for him. But Vallynor still had to exit the memory.

Familiar darkness enveloped Vallynor. After a second, the darkness disappeared, revealing a dark corridor. Vallynor cautiously walked through it and saw a person not far away who was also slowly walking in the darkness.

At first, Vallynor thought that this was just a memory of a walk, and there were no monologues. He decided to leave, but when he started to cast a spell, he noticed something strange.

Dark green clouds filled the corridor. Whose memory was this? As he realized, it was the memory of the Queen and her mother, the old woman. But she never produced such dark green clouds. Only her son could do that. So these were her son's memories.

While Vallynor was pondering, the old woman's son almost approached the girl with her hair down to her shoulders. He was rising as if preparing to attack.

Before doing anything, the girl felt something behind her and turned around. At first, she was surprised, but then she calmed down and even got a little annoyed: "Younger brother, what are you doing here? Have you already completed your tasks? Are you here for new assignments from your elder sister? What is this mist?" - The dark green mist enveloped the girl. At first, she looked at it, then furrowed her brow as if she understood something. She quickly released her aura and tried to transform.

However, before she could transform, she received a strike from a clawed paw to the head. And before regaining consciousness, she saw a huge mouth, screaming:

"You managed to kill me the first time, but there won't be a second time..."

"You won't have a second chance," he said with a mocking smile as he sucked the soul from his older sister.

Darkness enveloped Vallynor as he pondered what he had seen and heard. When he woke up in the real world, he saw two hungry dragons fighting each other.

Taking the pendant in his hand, Vallynor first looked at it. Stroking it with his big finger, he summoned his resurrected dead, who were waiting in his pocket dimensions.

"Fortunately, during the time I was with the old lady, I managed to gather armies," said Vallynor, as the dead came out of his pocket and attacked the first thing they saw. He continued to stroke the pendant. "What would I have done if this pendant wasn't created to contain the dead?"

Soul hands came out of his back and again attacked the dragon's soul. It didn't take long before Vallynor was able to rip off a piece of her soul. At that moment, both heads let out a cry of pain.

Throwing the piece of soul away, Vallynor was again enveloped in darkness for a second. When the darkness disappeared, Vallynor frowned, seeing a familiar corridor.

Thinking he had seen a familiar memory, he began to recite a spell to force his way out of the memory. At the same time, he saw the old woman's son eating. At first, Vallynor thought it was the girl he had killed earlier, but he quickly dismissed that thought. Before he exited the memory, he saw the son eating himself.

"What the hell is this?" Vallynor was too shocked by what he saw. His mind quickly conjured up thousands of thoughts, as well as various scenes from horror games and movies.

He no longer wanted to see the memories of some countries. To avoid feeling horror, he was already in battle. But what should he do? Vallynor didn't know of any spell that could protect him from getting into memories.

He had no choice but to take the whole soul in one fell swoop. He released all possible hands of the soul and directed them straight at the enemy while examining the entire hall to miss nothing.

The ash cloud had already reached the dragon, and he could no longer escape. Even the old woman was somewhat wary of the ash. She fought with her son and moved away from the cloud until it touched the wall. She felt Vallynor's soul hands enter her. His son felt the same thing.

The ash, created by Vallynor's hands, caught the dragon like pitiful prey and slowly penetrated the old woman's body. She and her son felt weakness as the connection of the soul with the body weakened. At the same time, both found themselves in dreams filled with the regrets of the old woman and her son.