Sadie was not a stealthy person.

Indeed, given her prerogative, she would simply stride toward any obstacle and dare it to stand in her way. But that wasn’t the way the world worked, and more often than not, she was forced to admit that she simply wasn’t strong enough to maintain that sort of attitude. On more than one occasion since entering the Trial, she had been grossly outmatched. The only reason she’d survived so far was because of her teammates.

And she found that galling.

Not because she didn’t appreciate their efforts. Nor was she jealous. Rather, she hated the creeping suspicion that she was neither as strong or independent as she had been led to believe. When she’d been visited by Gabriel and given an Angel Core, she’d thought herself special. By now, she knew that wasn’t really the case. Sure, she could boast more raw power than most others, but it came with a significant price.

Sadie had taken the Crusader class, hoping that it would give her an edge against the undead plaguing Hong Kong. Fighting against such abominations was its specialty, at least according to the description she’d found. And at first, it seemed perfect. Her skills were strong against any opponent, but against the undead – or the demonic creatures that came with them – they were peerless.

Then, she’d fallen prey to hubris, and her sister had paid the price. Certainly, no one blamed her. It wasn’t her fault, they’d said. But she knew the truth. She was the strongest. She was always meant to protect Lisa, and she had failed in that all-important endeavor. It was at her lowest point, with the war against the undead having pushed them to their limits, that Gabriel had come.

He’d offered salvation in the form of a powerful elder core. None of them could resist. They simply couldn’t afford to refuse, especially with the power on offer. Yet, Gabriel hadn’t explained everything. He’d claimed that doing so would taint their perception. But knowing now what she hadn’t known then, Sadie suspected it was more likely that he’d withheld that information so that they would have no reason to refuse.

The problem wasn’t the power. That had been as advertised. Sadie’s core was at least as strong as anyone else’s on Earth.

She glanced at Elijah, who was kneeling beside her and amended that assessment. Dragons, apparently, trumped Angels, and even if it wasn’t by much, the difference was noticeable.

Regardless, Sadie had no issues with the level of power she’d been given. That had set her apart, and it had given her the tools she’d needed to further resist the onslaught of undead. Because of her efforts, the war had reached something of a stalemate, which was the only reason she’d been given the mission of recruiting allies.

No – she was happy with her power.

The issue was with how her core had affected her class. At first, she’d thought Sense of Sin was simply a part of the Crusader class. After all, it fit well enough. However, after reading a guide on the subject, she’d learned that it was a vastly more powerful variant of a skill called Sense Truth. Ever since gaining the ability, she’d struggled to control it. Everywhere she looked, she saw sin. It was at its worst in the Trial, where every participant was absolutely drenched in blood. Survival was a brutal prospect in the post-apocalypse, and most people had been forced to do horrible things simply to remain among the living.

Sadie had.

So had Dat.

And they were not unique.

Rationally, she knew she had no right to judge anyone. Not with how much blood was on her own hands. Yet, the ability was too powerful to ignore, and it had driven a wedge between her and basically everyone but Dat. She struggled to control it. She wanted to ignore it. But the reality was that she simply wasn’t strong enough.

Now, she had another problem in the form of a skill called Confession:

Confession

Subtly nudge the guilty to unburden themselves of their sins. Effectiveness based on relative Ethera attribute.

Sadie had tried everything to deactivate the skill, but like Sense of Sin, Confession was always on. She’d spent hours in meditation – especially after advancing her Body to the Stone stage – as she’d attempted to rein it in, but she had been entirely unsuccessful. It seemed that was the point.

It begged the question of what the system meant for her class to become. Was she intended to take on the role of some fanatical inquisitor? And if so, was there a way to resist it, to reset her path?

So far, she had found that the answer was a resounding no.

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

Because of that, she’d begun to pull away from everyone. While traveling together, she couldn’t avoid the others entirely, but she’d discovered that Confession had a fairly short range. That had given her some peace, at least.

“Do you see what I see?” asked the Druid, his ever-present cloud of sin only a few inches away. It nearly made her retch.

“Two golems. Ten hobgoblins. And whatever is on the other side of that gate,” she answered succinctly.

“And in the guard towers. We’re not close enough for me to really scout it out, but there’s something in there, I’m sure of it,” Elijah explained. “Any suggestions?”

She narrowed her eyes and stared at the gate. They had spent the past few days crossing one bridge after another, and while the volume of kills had been entirely insufficient to push their levels any higher, they had received plenty of experience of a different sort. Their tactics were now much crisper, and they had begun to work together better than ever before.

But the force guarding that gate was far too much to handle without significant adjustment in tactics.

“We should find another way in,” she suggested after a moment. “The other challenges always had alternate routes. I think we need to find one here.”

“About that…I don’t think that makes much sense,” Elijah said. “I was talking to Dat, and we both agree that it’s more likely that the first clear of a challenge is the most difficult. There might be other ways in, but I think it’s more probable that those don’t come into play until after a challenge has been cleared the first time.”

“Is this just conjecture? Or do you have any real evidence this is the case?” she asked.

“A little of both,” he admitted. “Take the last challenge with the undead. Dat and I spent days scouring that whole area, and we didn’t find any other ways into the crypt, much less to defeat the necromancer. Between us, we have better sensory capabilities than just about anybody else in this Trial. So, if we didn’t find anything, it stands to reason that there was nothing to find. But I’ll admit that it’s not much more than a hypothesis at this stage, and not one we can prove.”

He took a breath, then continued, “My point is that I don’t believe there’s another way into this challenge except to go through the gate. And if that’s the case, then we need to focus on figuring that out rather than looking for a shortcut that probably doesn’t exist.”

It was a well-reasoned argument, but because it came from a man absolutely teeming with sin, Sadie found herself looking for a reason to shut him down. However, she was self-aware enough to recognize Sense of Sin’s influence.

“Dammit,” he muttered. “I didn’t mean to say half of that out loud. Or that last part. That new skill of yours is incredibly inconvenient.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, her eyes downcast. She hated manipulating people, even if it wasn’t intentional.

He sighed. “No real harm done. Any progress on controlling it?”

She shook her head.

“That sucks. Alright, so what do you want to do? You’re in charge.”

“You only say that when you don’t know what to do,” she pointed out.

“Guilty. But I’ll remind you that you’re the one who insisted you were best suited for a leadership role. Plus, you’re smarter than me. Or less impulsive at the very least, which often amounts to the same thing.”

He clamped his mouth shut, telling Sadie that he hadn’t intended to say all of that either. “Sorry,” she repeated. But she couldn’t keep the hint of a smile from turning up the corners of her mouth. If it wasn’t for the dense cloud of sin surrounding the man, she might’ve found his inability to keep his mouth shut slightly endearing.

“Not a big deal. Just spilling my deepest, darkest secrets. Don’t mind me,” he said. Then, he added, “But I do think I’m right. I mean, obviously. I wouldn’t believe what I believe if I didn’t think it was right. But that’s neither –”

She reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. It felt like touching a maggot-wreathed cadaver. “I agree. And just so you know, Confession doesn’t make you talk. It just nudges you to be honest. You can remain silent if it makes you more comfortable.”

“Did you just politely tell me to shut up?”

“Maybe? But it was for your own comfort.”

“That’s a first,” he said.

After that, the two backed away, careful to stay low to the ground as they retreated to where the others had set up. It wasn’t a camp per se, but it was the best they could do with the situation being what it was. None of them dared sleep, but even zoning out for a couple of minutes could be invaluable.

Once Sadie had gotten everyone’s attention, she went over her plan. There wasn’t much to it, but that was mostly because of their limited resources and the fact that, if they wanted inside that mountain, they had no choice. After discussing it, everyone submitted a few changes to her plan, but in the end, the simplicity of it meant that there were only so many ways it could go.

That was how, almost an hour later, Sadie found herself once again staring at the gate. This time, though, she only had Ron and Kurik for company. Both Dat and Elijah had their own missions. Such was the nature of their Angel cores that Sadie could vaguely sense Dat’s location as he cut across the landscape, dodging from one outcropping of obsidian to the next on his way to the gate. Presumably, Elijah was doing the same, though he was probably much less careful about it.

Gradually, Dat made his way into position, and fortunately, the hobgoblins and golems on duty were none the wiser. From experience, she knew that they had some limited ability to see through various forms of stealth, but it had such a short range that Dat was in no danger of being detected.

Once he was where he was supposed to be, Sadie started counting down from two hundred. As she did so, she studied the forces arrayed against them. A group of ten hobgoblins was an overwhelming force, but adding two golems to that number was absolutely unnecessary. And then there were whatever fighters were stationed inside the guard towers built into the side of the mountain. There was no telling what that entailed.

Still, Sadie had reason to expect success. Not only had her companions proven to be up to surmounting whatever obstacles stood in their way, but she felt that her plan, while simple, gave them the best chance of success.

Even so, a lot of it hinged on hope.

Finally, Sadie reached the end of her countdown and said, “Alright. Everything ready here?”

Kurik nodded. So did Ron.

With that assurance, Sadie stepped out from behind the outcropping of obsidian and charged the guards standing in front of the gate. At first, they didn’t even see her, but when they finally did, Sadie could see the shock in their expressions. And rightly so. What she was doing was absolutely ridiculous.

Once she’d drawn within a hundred yards of the hobgoblins, she cocked her arm back and threw the javelin Kurik had made for her. It was just a long, jagged piece of obsidian, but its profile was close enough to a spear that it flew remarkably well. It hit one of the hobgoblins directly in the chest, rocketing it backward until it smashed into the gate. That’s when Sadie came to a stop.

“Come on, you ugly mother bitches!” she yelled, waving the sword she’d drawn the moment the makeshift javelin was in the air.

The hobgoblins glanced at one another, obviously confused by her cutting insult. She took some pride in that. Then, they recovered their wits, gathered their weapons, and charged.

Sadie turned tail and ran, hoping that Kurik’s traps were up to the task of slowing the hobgoblins down.