Aria sat silently while the two cheered and shouted, working together to drag up as many karmic koi fish as they could. If you saw the two from a distance away, you’d mistake the two coworking servants as a cute couple, a delicate mage and her protective knight. Then, if you saw Aria, you’d mistake her for their daughter or maybe a younger sister.
The two dragged up fish after fish, grinding away and filling up their EXP bar with the singular goal of becoming unstoppably powerful. Aria, however, sat and stared into the green pool of pure mana.
Wrath’s words were a weight on her back. The contract was something she could not break. She had signed her soul away, leaving her with one singular fact. Aria was no longer her own person. She had become a tool of someone else, of a mysterious group who, for whatever reason, had been stalking her since her trip to Vera City.
That’s when she felt a tug, and with all her strength she pulled out a little minnow — a tiny, snapping karmic koi.
It would be so easy to take a dagger and instantly kill the animal, stealing its EXP for herself, but when she laid eyes on the fish, she couldn’t help but feel bad. But, the image of wrath filled her head. She could see his fist clench tight and reach out. With only a single finger, he pushed the lightest of touches onto the fish’s body, and like poison, the fish fell silent — thrashing about no more.
“Aria?” she heard.
She returned back to reality. There, she felt it. A surge of power entered her body. It was EXP. In her hand was a fish that fell still and silent. She checked to find that she was level seven now.
A sprawling sickness filled her body. Seeing the dead fish, she wanted to throw up, but she stopped herself — remaining strong.
Next to her was Troy. He looked shocked to find a dead fish in her hands. Isabelle looked just as surprised.
“It looks like you took my advice to heart,” Isabelle mumbled.
She had killed. Whether it was on purpose or by accident, it didn’t matter. Her leveling up was definite proof that she had done it.
The day ended with the cleaning of the reactor’s tank. Thousands of fish were caught and farmed. Troy had leveled up from 16 to 20, Isabelle from 18 to 22 and Aria from 6 to 7. With the festival complete, most adventurers went to go enjoy the karmic koi festival that took place along with the hatching of the fish.
Troy, being native to Haven, took it upon himself to be their tour guide.
“Come on, now! Let’s spend some of our hard earned money!” he said, waving the two over. The crowd was awfully large, and with his two hands, he took Isabelle’s and Aria’s, forming a chain that kept the three tied together.
He dragged them through the crowd and towards the best stalls. The festival was a staple of the winter world. Booze and alcohol were the highlights of the coldest, frozen months. The festival-goers all celebrated with beer and sausages skewered and roasted on massive open fire pits. In order to stave off the cold, they partied around a great big bonfire, one that glowed green with the combustible mana in the air.
Waitresses went about, carrying dozens of mugs of beer in their hands. Men wearing silly looking hats chugged and challenged one another to drinking contests. Fireworks went off, filling the mana filled air with color and light.
Troy was quick to get himself a mug and one for Isabelle. She saw the giant mug and froze.
“Do people really drink this much?” she asked, gawking at the mug.
“When you live in winters as rough as the ones here in Haven, alcohol becomes sacred.”
Troy, despite being a slime, managed to chug the mug — pouring it in through the slit of his helmet. He absorbed it through his slime body and somehow grew a tad tipsy. Isabelle, seeing that and seeing the native women doing the same, copied him. She was more restrained, taking short sips.
That’s when Troy got a second mug and offered it up to Aria.
“Care for a drink, Lady Aria?” he asked, acting all coy. Isabelle, however, was awfully strict.
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
“Don’t go around, offering drinks to children,” she snapped. “Why — how irresponsible of you. How are you supposed to become her shield if you can’t even protect her from the evil spirit of alcohol?”
Troy and Isabelle joked around, and under the influence of beer, they grew more open and friendly. Aria was glad to see the two tease one another, and when they were distracted by a waitress, Aria took the opportunity to separate from the two for a moment.
She wanted to enjoy the festival and eat grilled sausages like a barbarian, but a single thought stuck in her mind, forcing her to leave and find herself a spot to be alone.
There, on the edge of the city, she stared off. Listening to the fireworks fly, she felt a strange sensation of peace. She hadn’t felt this way since she was a child, even younger than she was already.
It was when she was about five. At that age, there aren’t usually memories that stick with you when you grow up. Aria, however, held onto a single one.
Aria wasn’t always alone. When she was but a five year old girl, she remembered a distinct memory. In a forest located in the middle of nowhere, she followed a middle aged man. The two ran, hand in hand. He had skin white as snow and long, dark hair like that of eastern nobility. Wrapped around his waist was a cloth binding and over his shoulders a light cloak. By his waist was a deadly katana whose scabbard was completely soaked in blood.
He was a strange person. She couldn’t quite call him her father, but she couldn’t say he was a stranger either. When the two first met, even a child like her could tell that that man was related to her by blood. One way or another, he was her guardian.
The two ran through the woods, and when they were far enough, he turned, couched down, and rested both hands on her shoulders.
His face was covered in scars with a fresh cut running up his cheek and over his eye.
The man had spoken to her, but she couldn’t understand what he was saying. The barrier of language was cruel and memory served her no good. Even if she learned the language he spoke, she had already forgotten what he said — as if the memory’s audio had been cut. All that was left was the fear and exhaustion she felt mixed with the expression he had.
When he finished speaking, he grasped her, then shoved her down a hill, sending her tumbling. It was hours later when she woke up, hidden in a pile of autumn leaves. There, she found nothing but a pool of blood at the top, one that made a singular trail that led to a dead end.
The sight of Wrath filled her with similar emotions. He was a dangerous man, not because he could cleave her in two with one touch of his hand, but because by simply existing, he drives her into a corner. It was like being on the other end of a voodoo doll.
Wrath wanted her. He didn’t care about Isabelle or Troy. If he wanted to, he could cut the two of them down in broad daylight before dragging her by the wrist to whatever tunnel to Hell he crawled out of.
That was what it meant to be powerful, and with his skills as an assassin, he could see through any prey. He could see their stats, their chosen class and predict their movements and abilities.
There was only one option left for Aria, and that was to level up and stand up to Wrath and Sloth too, if Sloth decided to step into their conflict.
She had no idea how powerful Wrath really was, but judging from his outfit, demeanor and possible age, she deduced him down to a man in his mid twenties. He was most likely a martial artist mixed with a bladed assassin. The SP cost of diving into those two branches amounted to quite a large sum, meaning he’d have to be at least level 32 to unlock and properly invest in both branches.
That was the lowest estimate. Judging from other factors, she guessed he probably was level 35, and at most, 42.
Level 35… it was a long ways away. The average person would level up once every year, starting from birth. Children had something of an EXP multiplier, similar to a growth spurt brought on by puberty. Aria, luckily, was around that age.
Taking the puberty induced EXP multiplier to mind, she calculated — using a stick as a pencil and the snow as her paper — that it’d take four weeks of continuous killing to surpass level 30. By killing that fish from earlier, she leveled up from six to seven in an instant, proof of the simplicity that came with the early stages.
In the first week, she calculated that at maximum efficiency, she’d level up from seven to eighteen. In the second week, if she wanted to be efficient, she’d have to face stronger monsters since EXP gain from weaker foes grows more and more diminished the higher she went.
The effort needed to kill stronger monsters would cut into her efficiency, slowing her down. She predicted she’d grow from level eighteen to twenty six in the second week.
In the third week, she’d have to face even stronger monsters, meaning she’d have to travel away from civilization to the great, untamed wilderness. Around cities and villages, all the strong monsters had already been purged to keep the areas safe enough to be comfortably livable. The strong monsters either died or fled to places the monsters found were safe for them.
That meant journeying to both find and kill those monsters — more time wasted. In the third week, she’d go from level twenty six to thirty two. Then, the fourth week would take her from thirty two to thirty six.
Wrath was, in her mind, level thirty six. That meant she had only four weeks to level up — to become strong enough to protect her servants. It was like Isabelle said — she was a weak master who relied on her servants for protection.
It was time for Aria to protect them.
When the drinks stopped pouring in, Troy and Isabelle both found themselves devoid of a certain presence. Troy looked around, trying to figure out what was missing. It was only when Isabelle spoke did he realize what had happened.
“Troy? Where did Aria go?”