I stepped through the mush that had been my enemy, and stumbled to the ground, clutching my face. Just the sensation of the wind on the torn flesh sent waves of pain that I never imagined possible. The Shard notified me that I had leveled up as I writhed on the stone floor; turning the white stone pink. Some of the pain lifted, but not enough to matter to any degree whatsoever. Like going from a bullet wound to a stab wound.

“Healing spell!” I nearly howled as I arched my back from the overwhelming pain, “Get me a healing spell! Quick!”

Which one?

“I don’t care!” I rolled over onto my stomach and pressed my forehead against the ground. “Just one that I can use immediately.”

My mind burned as the incantation for a spell called Lesser Healing from the Miracle Tree was seared into my memory.

“Put...all…” I hissed and howled as I pressed my hand against my mangled cheek to ease the firing of the nerves. “points into...magic.”

I groped around the floor as my core burned as my magic went up to 10, and my Magic Affinity was at 4, I had already cast three spells this hour so I would have 11 spells to stop from dying. I gripped the wand and placed it on my head.

“Hail Mary, full of Grace, I beseech thee to seal my wounds, by the power of Christ thine Heavenly Son.”

One of the symbols: a Christian Cross, glowed a bright white on my wand.

A warmth flooded me the pain was lessened to a similar degree from leveling.

“Hail Mary, full of Grace, I beseech thee to seal my wounds by the power of Christ thine Heavenly Son.”

The wounds up and down my legs had scabbed over.

“Hail Mary…”

The burning sensation they brought was completely gone now.

“Hail Mary, full of Grace…”

You might be reading a pirated copy. Look for the official release to support the author.

Strands of flesh began to regrow and reattach on my mangled face. It felt odd like worms wriggling out of my flesh.

“Hail Mary, full of Grace…”

The bleeding had stopped completely, and my life was no longer at risk. This was truly a miraculous spell. Finally. A useful spell.

“Hail Mary, full of Gr—“

The symptoms of Mana Locking began to kick in. A massive, explosive headache followed by a series of seizures. As the world blackened, a message appeared on the Shard and in my mind.

Ah, I forgot to tell you. Spells tagged [Miracles] consume the slots of your spells at twice the rate.

Thanks for telling me.

I awake four hours later, according to the time on my phone. The position of the sun outside didn’t budge, and the light was still as powerful as it filtered in through the small windows. I gripped the wand in my hand and pushed myself up off the floor. My whole body ached, and my head felt as if I had bumped it a dozen times. I healed myself just in case there was any serious damage. The last vestiges of a headache faded, and I looked around. The enemy was dead, what was left? Right, the altar.

What would a spider’s altar look like? I glanced around the floor of the room after picking up my spear and leaning on it like a crutch. I was tired. The seizure had taken a lot out of me, and I just wanted to finish this and get back home so I could crawl into bed. Perhaps two days was a little too ambitious.

There was nothing I wanted more at that moment than to finish up as quickly as possible and go to bed. There was nothing on this floor to indicate something as an altar, so I took out my phone and turned on the flashlight to search above, where the spider tried to escape to.

In the gossamer canopy above, I spot several items hanging in the corner of the square room: a flag of some sort was the most prominent: dark black background, with four dark blue curved lines running from the top of the bottom like stripes, forming a kind of circle around the symbol in the middle: a white cat’s skull, with two puncture marks piercing through it. Next to that was a skull, and a series of other things that could be vaguely ceremonial: a femur bone, a thigh bone, some kind of flower. I suppose that’s the altar. Then I just had to take it down, right?

I roll the wand in my pocket and head back to the staircase. It continued up to the top, where the city’s archers no doubt stood to stand against the armies of Roki. I hobbled up the stairs. A conflict arose inside of me. I was tired, yes, but I also wanted to see the view from on top of this tower. Finally, my exploitative side won out over my pragmatic, and I used the tip of the spear to part the gossamer veil and head to the top of the tower.

I have to stoop my head down to avoid bumping it against the wooden beams of the ballista sitting at the top of the tower. I navigated my way around it until I could stand fully erect. Now, at my higher vantage point, I could see the slightest hint of a distant town or village, and what had, at once, been fertile farmlands. I wonder if that’s the reason this specific place was connected to Porterville. Porterville, after all, was in the middle of the Central Valley; where the agricultural industry was king, and helped supply a good portion of the national food reserves.

I snap a few pictures, of both the rolling plains, and the city stretched out behind me, before turning the camera to show the length of the wall. I also take a picture of the ballista, before heading my way down. I pulled the wand from my pocket, and stab it forward into the spider webs hanging nearest to the stairwell.

“I allow the blood of the Salamanders to flow through me.”

The upward triangle glowed hot red, and a handful of ash poured out, nearly immediately lighting the spiderwebs on fire. The fire quickly spread, and I hurried down as fast as I could; snapping a picture of the dead spider on the way. The fire spread to the wooden roof, and the old, dried wood howled painfully as it began to sag. Shit shit shit. Got to pick up the pace.

By the time I reached the bottom of the stairs, billows of black smoke rolled down the staircase, and my legs were pumping. I hurry toward the door, pull it open and step out; nearly tumbling forward from exhaustion.

“Is that it?” I asked my Patron.

That’s it. Good job. You’re surprisingly good at this, all things considered.

I struggle to thank that hardly-a-compliment, as I grab a handful of arrows, and push through the door that would lead me back to Earth.