His transformation complete, I stood frozen in terror. My hands shook uncontrollably, and the cold sweat running down my back made me shiver despite the oppressive heat in the chamber. My mind raced, but all I could think was that there was no way I could beat this thing. Every muscle in my body felt tight, ready to snap. The air was thick with the metallic scent of blood, mingling with the stale, musty odor of old stone and the faint, acrid tang of sulfur. The sight of the monstrous figure that had once been my father left me feeling small and powerless.

My voice quivered with fear, barely more than a whisper, as I muttered, "What do I do?"

[Jamie, look alive,] Malice's voice cut through my panic, sharp and clear in my mind. His tone was steady, almost calming, starkly contrasting to the chaos around me. [Take a glance over by the throne carefully. What do you see?]

I forced myself to break eye contact with the monstrosity. My gaze flicked from the grotesque figure to the throne, desperately searching for anything that could help. The throne seemed mundane, a relic of a time before the madness. Above it hung a ceremonial sword, gleaming even in the dim light, and beside it, the basin of holy water my father had always insisted be kept nearby. But then, something caught my eye—a book on the mantle. The Book of Blood, the source of our family's power, always symbolized our legacy.

Desperate, I leaped onto the throne, my hands reaching for the sword. The moment my fingers closed around the hilt, I felt a surge of energy, a false sense of security. But I had turned my back on my father. A mistake.

Pain exploded across my back as a beam of red energy slammed into me, knocking the wind from my lungs and sending me crashing to the floor. My vision blurred, and I gasped for air, feeling like a thousand needles were stabbing into my back. For the first time in this battle, I felt pain—real, excruciating pain that left me breathless. Ten damage.

"What's my health remaining?" I gasped, the words barely escaping my lips as I tried to steady myself.

[Two points,] Malice replied cheerfully, his tone incongruously light in the face of my desperation.

Panic surged through me. I scrambled away from the throne, every movement a struggle. My muscles screamed in protest, and the room spun around me. I couldn't let him hit me like that again; one more blow and I was dead. The urgency was a palpable force pressing down on me, urging me to act. I couldn't let this be the end of my run. Not now.

The Paladin class was supposed to be overpowered, but I had forgotten what made it so—I had magic. My father had always forbidden me from studying the family's library of magical tomes, but I had picked up enough from Dr. Todd's teachings. Simple spells, like the scribing spell that wrote down his words or the cleaning spell he used to tidy up. As I reached deep inside myself, searching for the reservoir of mana, I felt my heartbeat steadying. The magic responded, a warm light spreading through me, soothing the aches and pains. A healing wave washed over me, restoring some of my lost vitality. +15 HP.

A deep, full-throated voice filled the chamber, resonating with power. "You think healing yourself will save you? It’s time for you to finally learn your place. I am your father. I am your king. Enough talk—have at you!"

I unsheathed the sword, my heart sinking as the blade's weight settled in my hand. It was ornamental, a symbol rather than a weapon, but it was all I had. With a shout, I charged forward, swinging it with all my might. My movements were wild and unrefined, more like wielding a club than a sword. I aimed for his head, but he laughed, a deep, resonant sound reverberating through the chamber. With a casual swipe, he batted me aside, sending me sprawling to the ground. My blood ran cold, the realization of my situation sinking in. Everything was going wrong. 5 damage.

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Then, a thought sparked in my mind—the Book of Blood. It wasn't just a family heirloom but the true source of our power. I needed to act fast. Feigning terror, I tried to lure him into another attack, hoping to create an opening.

"Daughter, does it have to end this way?" he called out, his voice filled with false concern. "If you bend the knee, yield to your king, I will let you sit by my side for eternity. We could rule together as we should have."

"Father? You aren’t my father," I spat, my voice steadying with newfound resolve. "You haven’t been my father in a long time. You’re just a sick, old man drowning in his own greed."

I darted past him, my eyes fixed on the book. My heart pounded in my chest, each beat a thunderous roar in my ears. As I reached the mantle, my fingers brushed against the book's cover, and everything changed.

The Book of Blood was a wondrous artifact, its pages imbued with the essence of countless mages over centuries like a magical mural in book form. As I grasped it, a surge of power coursed through me. Purple and black mist swirled around me, lifting me into the air. It entered my body through every pore, choking and overwhelming. My muscles tensed, my skin prickling with the sensation of a thousand needles. The mist filled every inch of me, a force so potent it felt like I might burst.

In a flash, the power subsided, and I dropped to the floor. I felt different—stronger. New reservoirs of power thrummed within me, each one distinct, each one a promise of untold potential. My father advanced, his monstrous form casting a long shadow over me. I reached for the largest reservoir, the energy pulsating with a dark, blood-red light. I knew spells I hadn't before. I knew what I had to do.

[Paladin class has upgraded to {Cursed} Paladin.]

"Blood Drain!" I shouted, extending my hand. A red orb of energy shot from my palm, striking my father. He howled in pain as the energy flowed into him, tearing through his defenses. Blood poured from a gaping wound in his side, the life force siphoning into me, replenishing my strength. 40 damage. +20 HP.

Unlike before, his wounds didn't heal. His confidence in his eyes wavered, and he stepped back, his monstrous form shrinking. "What is this?" he gasped, a hint of terror creeping into his voice.

I touched another reservoir, feeling the crackle of electricity under my skin. I conjured a bolt of solid lightning, dark and pulsating with red energy. With a shout, I hurled it at him. The bolt struck with a deafening crack, the impact sending us both flying. I crashed into the wall, the breath knocked out of me, but I was alive. My father screamed in agony, clutching his ruined eye, blood streaming down his face.

[Nice one,] Malice commented dryly. [300 damage.]

"How did they expect anyone else to beat this thing?"

The power faded, leaving one last reservoir. I knew what it would do. Summoning every ounce of strength, I formed a spinning disc of energy in my palm. It glowed with a blinding white light, radiating warmth and purity. I sent it flying towards my father's throat, a beam of holy light. One after another, the discs slammed into him, relentless and unforgiving. The final disc struck with a burst of light, and he crumpled to the ground, lifeless. 80 damage.

The book's power faded as Malice intoned, [The Book Of Blood has been Consumed.]

I stood over his fallen form, my chest heaving with each labored breath. The room was silent except for the sound of my own breathing. I had killed my father. The weight of that realization settled heavily on my shoulders, a crushing burden. Malice's voice broke the silence, his tone almost sentimental.

[I thought we'd reached wonderful heights when you killed your matron,] he mused, his voice soft. [But here you are, not just killing your father but committing regicide. They grow up so fast.]

I ignored him, my eyes fixed on the blood on my gauntlets. No matter how often I washed them, they would never feel clean. The dark red liquid dripped onto the stone floor, starkly contrasting the tears streaming down my face. My father had been a cruel, abusive king, but the knowledge that I had struck him down left me feeling hollow and empty.

[C'mon do something.]

[At least loot him.]

I stood there for an eternity, the silence stretching on. Malice eventually fell silent, his attempts to coax me out of my stupor fading into the background. The door to the second floor loomed ahead, a gateway to the next stage of my journey. But as I stared at it, I wasn't sure if I could take that next step. The victory felt hollow, and the future seemed uncertain. I had access to the second floor, but I wasn't sure if it was worth it.