“Who are you?!” The Cultist screeched.
He’s going to alert the rest of the Cultists, Monica thought in a split second, finding her body moving on its own, running toward the man.
She had no idea what was happening. It was as if reflexes were embedded in her muscles, memories that she had lost but that her body had not.
And so, when the Cultist slashed the dagger at her, she surprised both him and herself with a swift, back-breaking dodge before transitioning into a kick right to the temple of the man from that awkward position as if fighting was all she had ever done in her life.
Right about when the kick was about to connect, something else overcame her; her leg was now suddenly coated in a black fire that consumed the man’s skin and flesh as soon as it touched him.
The Cultist fell to the ground, air sucked out of his lung, unable even to scream, his world now a fiery hot mess of terrible pain.
She grabbed his neck as she pirouetted right to her knees. Before realizing what she was doing, more black flames erupted, cutting off the man’s air supply in an instant, destroying his windpipe and soldering his arteries off.
Moments later, the man died.
*Ding*
You have slain [Apprentice Cultist – Level 8]
You receive extra experience and skill proficiency for killing a creature five levels above you.
You receive extra experience and skill proficiency for killing a creature with higher sentience.
Monica felt her world spin, finally taken out of this impetuous daze by the notification, falling to her butt right by the dead man.
I just killed him, she reasoned. I just killed him like it was nothing.
She waited for guilt to start swarming her, holding her breath.
She had no memories, but she obviously knew that taking a life was no light matter.
However, as she looked at the corpse, she didn’t feel horrified or scared.
She didn’t feel any guilt, either.
Who am I? I clearly know how to fight, but... how? Where do I come from?
But her thoughts were interrupted by more notifications.
*Ding*
Auto-loot is on.
You obtain:
Apprentice Cultist Robe x1
Apprentice Cultist Boots x1
Book of Fireball x1
Silver Coins x4
*Ding*
Class – Phoenix Healer (Rare, Enhanced) reaches Level 2
+5 VIT, +5 END, +5 STR, +5 DEX, +5 WIS, +5 SPI, +5 INT, +5 CHA and 6 Free Attributes
*Ding*
Constitution Skill – Phoenix Feathers reaches Level 2
*Ding*
Offensive Skill – Obsidian Flame reaches Level 2
The Obsidian Flame was what she had just instinctively used against the Cultist.
She got her face closer to the man, ignoring the stench of burned flesh, and examined the damage.
Unlike a regular flame, her Skill consumed the flesh rather than just burning it, leaving little in its wake—not even ashes.
Part of his face was missing, showing off the skull.
And the same went for his neck, with at least an inch of excavated flesh where she had laid her hands.
*Ding*
Looting process completed.
Without any other warning, the body dissolved into a cloud of blueish fumes that smelled of decomposition and that made her gag.
Despite her hardcore disposition, Monica had to take a few steps back to avoid retching.
Unfortunately for her, even though she had tried killing the man as fast as possible, it was clear that he had made enough of a ruckus to alert others.
Now, two more men came through the door, one of them saying in an elderly voice, “Rookie, why are you shouting—”
But then, he saw Monica’s naked form and blood on the ground.
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Focusing on the two, Monica summoned into existence two separate tags.
[Apprentice Cultist - Level 11]
[Cultist - Level 25]
Before she could do anything, the Level eleven man threw a spear blazingly fast, probably thanks to a Skill, piercing her left abdomen.
“You,” Monica growled angrily.
She grunted in pain and immediately pulled the spear away, her body once again moving on its own.
As the man who had thrown the spear moved closer, without his weapon, she instinctively activated the Golden Flame.
Licks of gold fire erupted around her wound, and she felt a sudden relief that didn’t go unnoticed.
“Cauterizing a wound? What a weird Healer. Well, it’s time you tell us how you killed my rookie,” the Level 25 Cultist said.
But by the time the man had gotten close enough to her, she had already healed most of the damage. So, when the Level 11 Apprentice Cultist went to grab her throat, Monica, smiling widely, grabbed his arm in return.
Obsidian Flames erupted over the man’s arm, making him scream like a madman.
Immediately, he tried throwing her off, but that only helped Monica get up and put a hand over the man’s neck, releasing another burst of black fire.
And just like that, she got her revenge on the man who had killed her the first time.
*Ding*
You have slain [Apprentice Cultist – Level 11]
You receive extra experience and skill proficiency for killing a creature five levels above you.
You receive extra experience and skill proficiency for killing a creature with higher sentience.
But before she could hear the rest of the notifications, the second Cultist had already approached, a sword in his hand. Even with Phoenix Feathers active, he was too fast for Monica. She dodged a couple of swings before the man’s blade shone in a flash of bright fire, and she found her perception shifting, with her suddenly staring at the ceiling.
I’ve been decapitated, she realized before everything went dark.
* * *
*Ding*
Class – Phoenix Healer (Rare, Enhanced) reaches Level 3
+5 VIT, +5 END, +5 STR, +5 DEX, +5 WIS, +5 SPI, +5 INT, +5 CHA and 6 Free Attributes
*Ding*
Constitution Skill – Phoenix Feathers reaches Level 3
*Ding*
Healing Skill – Golden Flame reaches Level 2
*Ding*
Offensive Skill – Obsidian Flame reaches Level 3
When she came back to life, she first heard a series of notifications, followed by voices.
She stayed still, trying to see how many Cultists were in the room.
“Where did this chick come from anyway?” She heard a perplexed man ask. “And didn’t Sandoval say that he took her head off? I see her head perfectly back on her shoulders.”
“Elder Sandoval always boasts about stuff and then leaves the cleanup to us. Don’t mention it to anyone over dinner. He will come for you, otherwise. He’s a touchy man. If you want to start any mess with him, wait until they officially introduce you to the ranks. Novices are fodder here, and you might get killed just for looking at someone the wrong way.”
“Dude, I swear, when you said it would be cool to join a cult, I thought we were going to get drunk and dance naked at night with some blonde chicks, not this creepy stuff. Are you sure I can’t leave?”
“Once of the Flame, always in the Flame,” the older voice recited tiredly. “Don’t let anyone hear you say that. I thought you clearly knew what we would do since I dropped so many hints about killing.”
“I thought you said ‘killing it,’ as in, we’d successfully find a good woman or two. Instead, look, the only naked chick I’ve seen so far is a dead body that we’re about to butcher for meat. I’m not going to eat her, dude. It’s disgusting.”
“Shut up, Ted, we have work to do. Get the knives and the blood bags ready, and I’ll put her on the table now.”
Monica waited while holding her breath as a man took her up and frowned, “she’s still warm after half a day. Weird. Wait, why can I see her tag—”
She didn’t let the man finish the sentence.
He had slung her across his shoulder, and so she immediately twisted her hips into his back and went for a chokehold, putting her arm across his neck, covering his entire head in black flames.
Seconds after, the man collapsed to the ground, dead.
Monica rose swiftly, ready to tackle the second Cultist, but she only found a whimpering guy crouched on the ground, looking at her like a wounded puppy.
“Can you not kill me, please?” He pleaded. “I’m still a virgin. I can’t die a virgin. Please. My older brother Samuel will come every day to my empty grave to remind me that I still didn’t get laid after joining this stupid cult.”
Monica’s arm, already coated in Obsidian Flame, stopped mid-air as she was about to strike the young man.
She looked at him with a frown.
“Please, I need to find a blonde woman,” he pleaded.
“What are you even saying?” She asked, stunned.
* * *
It turned out that the young man had yet to become a Cultist and had not yet qualified for the Class.
“You need to do Cultist stuff to get the Class. Sacrifice, reading ancient texts, the works,” Ted shrugged, sitting on the butchering table. “That guy used to be around the village I was staying at, you know? He was this crazy, mysterious dude who always got into fights.”
“Why did you follow him, then?” Monica asked as she stood by the side of the door. Her instincts told her not to get caught by surprise this time. If someone were going to enter, she would kill them on the spot.
“Why? Because he always got the prettiest girls. This one time, a Merchant came with three daughters, and you’re not going to believe it, but—”
“Ted,” Monica found herself laughing for the first time since she had awakened, “I don’t need to hear the rest. I need to know who these people are, where we are, and how to get out.”
“Oh, they are Cultists of the Goddess of Fire or something? It’s a bunch of Fire Mages, a few Pyromancers, and Cultists who use different weapons.”
Flame users, her brain told her. You’re immune to lesser flames.
“You don’t even know what they worship?” Monica asked, trying to acclimate herself to the information her body and instincts provided her.
“Dude, I don’t know. I just don’t want to be here anymore. I thought there would be pretty girls, but these freaks are just eating people and killing women. Who does that?!”
Monica briefly regarded the information before asking, “How long have you been here?”
“Three days,” he sighed.
“How many people have you killed?” She asked the question this way to see if the young man in front of her had already killed someone, in which case she would take his life right then and there.
“No one,” the man shrugged. “I’m not much into this whole killing thing.”
He isn’t lying, her guts told her. However, she didn’t really know her guts. It might be wrong. I need to get out of here before figuring out who I am.
“Alright, I heard you want to get out of here,” Monica said, returning her attention to the man. “So, let’s get out.”
“Dude, there are guards at the entrance,” Ted grimaced. “You can’t just leave.”
Monica prodded one of the Racial Abilities she had gotten, Inventory. She had yet to use them, finally summoning the robe and boots she had gotten from her kills.
She donned them and put the hood up, completely covering her face.
“Just get me to the entrance,” she said. “I’ll take care of the rest. I have yet to test all my Skills.”