Her awakening was like the previous ones, Ayah thought it was going to turn into a routine at this point. She startled awake, her breath nearly seizing inside her chest. She looked around and breathed a sigh of relief at finding herself back in the tent and not trapped in a ditch somewhere inside the forest.

The fact that she was allowed to remain in the tent either meant Jamila didn’t reveal her secret, or their opinion about accursed people had changed slightly… which was unlikely.

First thing first. She took a look at her stats window.

[Player stats]

[Player level : 13]

[Health : 180 +15]

[Attack : 75 +15]

[Defense : 75 +15]

[Magic Attack : 70 +15]

[Magic Defense : 70 +15]

[Strength : 65 +15]

[Mana : 65 +15]

[Stamina : 85 +15]

[Intelligence : 70 +15]

[Speed : 75 +15]

[Passive Skill : Immunity Lv. Max.]

[Skill : Slash Lv. 2 ]

[Skill : Crescent Blade lv.1 Cooldown : 3 seconds.]

[Special skill: Holy Scribe Lv.Max Locked. Requirement not met.]

[Special skill: Heaven's wrath Lv.1 Skill Cooldown: 3 days after usage.]

[Special Skill : Soul Devourer lv.1 Cooldown : 28 seconds.]

[Current Darkening : 17% ]

[Stat points Available : 25 ]

She frowned. Her darkening had increased by 7%. She didn’t know what that meant, but the pain she had felt when she had used the skill didn’t bode well with her. If possible, she wouldn’t use it again, not till she knew more about it. The problem was the system, it refused to tell her more about the darkening, only that she would die were it to reach 100%.

A small smile pulled at her lips at the level increase of the first skill she ever learnt by her own hands. At least something was going her way.

“What are those 15 points added to each stat?”

[Each monster defeated with special skill ‘Soul Devourer’ yields a point to the player's stats.]

[The higher the level of the monster, the higher the points added.]

[Warning : If Darkening reaches 100% the player will fail at his assigned task.]

[Penalty for failure is death.]

[Current Darkening : 17% ]

Ayah sighed. “I know.”

It was helpful. Really helpful. But also deadly.

All good things in life were.

She ventured outside, wary of anyone's reaction to her presence, but none of them paid her any mind. Except for a couple young warriors that had scurried away the second she stepped foot outside the tent− probably to tittle-tattle to their general, the others treated her like normal, curious and some even admiring glances from the younger ones.

It wasn’t long before her short period of peace was disturbed by the towering form of the Evil Overlord.

“I see you’re finally awake,” he remarked.

He looked angry with his furrowed eyebrows, pursed lips, and veins straining against his neck. His dark look alone was enough to cut down the wolven Boss without lifting a finger.

“I−”

“You ventured, alone, into the forest, without telling anyone,” he cut her off, his nostrils flaring. “What were you thinking? Were you trying to get yourself killed? Or is this another one of your schemes? You even implicated a member of my army in your foolish endeavors. What would have happened if we hadn’t reached you in time?”

Ayah had a hard time keeping up with the onslaught of words. This yelling first thing after she woke up was starting to get on her nerves.

The general kept glaring daggers at Ayah, his knuckles that were gripping the pommel of his sword turning white from the strain.

“If you plan on repeating your disgraceful actions and burden us all with your idiotic behavior, you better leave. You’re not welcome here.” He stared down at her, his eyes crazed and wild, his chest rising and falling with each deep breath he took.

Ayah understood the reason for his frustration. She really did. But that didn’t give him the right to yell at her.

All the anger she was holding onto broke loose. All her frustration and despair at how life was toying with her, at how unfair all of this was, reached a boiling point and erupted like a volcano.

“Alright, listen here sweetheart,” she hissed.

She heard gasps echo in the camp but she paid it no mind. Her mind was reeling and her chest was boiling. She felt like knocking someone over with a metallic chair, preferably Harith. “You’re not my boss. My boss is down there in Rabat sipping hot coffee and panicking over undelivered manuscripts. And if he treated me half as you did, I would have filed a lawsuit against him for misconduct. So chill the hell down and stop yelling at me. You’re not a child throwing tantrums whenever he doesn't get his way.” She was breathing heavily by the end of her outburst, her hands were shaking from nerves and a ringing sound resounded in her ears with no chance of abating.

She was furious and she didn’t care.

He stared at her with narrowed eyes. “Rabat?” he murmured the foreign name, tasting it in his tongue, his suspicious look turned confused for a second.

Shoaib shouldered his way through the crowd and barreled for his uncle. He sent Ayah a warning glance before he turned to him. “The only thing that matters is they’re fine now. They’ve been fighting for their lives for hours, they must be exhausted. Let them rest and we’ll talk about this another time.”

Harith sent his nephew a suspicious look. He raised his eyebrow at him, and with a whispered “I see.” He turned and headed towards the temporary training area where Ayah guessed he would unleash his fury on unsuspecting training dummies.

“I’ll talk to him,” Shoaib said before he followed along.

Ayah found Jamila huddled next to the fire.

“You didn’t tell them?” Ayah said, though both of them knew it wasn’t what Ayah wanted to ask.

Why?

Jamila shrugged. “Didn’t see why I should. As long as you don’t bring harm to our kingdom and our crown prince, whatever you do is your concern alone.”

Ayah nodded. Good. They could both agree on this.

“I’ll believe you for now,” she looked at her, expression firm.

Ayah nodded.

Jamila handed her a bowl of soup. Ayah took the warm dish and cradled it to her chest, letting the delicious steam warm her cold face. She took a sip and marveled at how someone can create something so delicious while on the road.

“It’s delicious,” Ayah smiled.

“Thank you, my lady!”

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

Ayah nearly startled at the shout. It was one of the younger warriors. He saluted her, a beaming smile on his face.

“Look at you, already charming your way into the general’s army. The general would be greatly pleased.” Jamila shot her an amused look.

“More like irked.” Ayah snorted.

“Of course.” Jamila smiled at her as if she knew something she wasn’t privy to. Ayah decided to let the matter go. If she wanted to tell her something, ayah would gladly hear her out. Otherwise, she had enough on her plate to deal with.

“So what happened?”

“The ruckus you made while killing the monsters helped in locating us,” Jamila said. “They arrived not long after you collapsed. The general was frantic when he laid eyes on your prone form. I think he thought you had died. He completely mutilated the remaining monsters.” She snorted. “I don’t know who is more fearful, you or him.”

“What? Why?”

Jamila laughed. “Why, indeed.”

“Does he still think I summoned them?” Ayah frowned.

Jamila shot her an incredulous look. “I’m pretty sure he no longer sees you as a threat.”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.” Ayah eyed her warily. “He nearly sentenced me to death himself earlier.”

Jamila shook with laughter. Ayah didn’t know what was so amusing. She barely escaped with her life from the boss fight, and right after, Harith had bested her in a screaming match. She was worn out. She just wanted to go back to sleep. The land of Morr survived by itself before her arrival, it could surely hold still for a couple hours more.

She looked at the dancing flames as they wafted up then thinned into smoke.

“What’s the deal with all the accursed business?”

Jamila narrowed her eyes at her. “You really don’t know?”

“No…?”

“The whole continent knows about it. Where were you living all this time?”

Ayah hesitated. She cleared her throat. “Let’s just say I was in seclusion.”

Jamila gave her a look. “They are people touched by demons. They commune with them and do horrible acts in exchange for unlimited power. Two hundred years ago, they nearly caused the end of the world. The first king of Nur put an end to their evil schemes at the cost of his own life.”

Ayah knew some snippets about this story from Loaye’s novel. The young king, in a desperate attempt to save his people and pregnant wife, had used a forbidden spell to seal the Dark Lord. But the spell was too powerful for only one mage to cast, no matter how powerful he was. The spell consumed his life essence to complete the seal. Not even the most powerful of healers could save him.

Aayan, the current king of Nur was his direct descendant, and the protagonist of Loaye’s novel.

Was this true?

Was the Dark Lord someone from Ayah’s world with a system?

Ayah wished she was someplace alone to get some clarifications from the system itself. Though, would it really tell her the truth?

Ayah ingested what remained of her soup without really tasting it.

The penalty for failing any quest was death. Was this how the system was controlling the other players… the accursed? Or was there something missing? A little piece of information that would make sense of all of this…

As if prompted, the system flashed before her.

[System is unaware of the existence of any other players.]

Ayah blinked.

“What do you mean?”

Jamila looked at her then away. She must have noticed that Ayah was conversing with the demon.

[You are the only player in the land of Morr.]

[You are the only player the system has assisted in a hundred years.]

Ayah turned to Jamila. “Have there been any other accursed these past years?”

Jamila nodded. “They appear from time to time. Though, none of them has confessed to being one. They all claim that they have never communed with a demon.”

“Then how are you sure they were accursed?”

Was this another witch hunt case? Were they killing innocent people because of some irrational fear?

“There is a way to confirm this. The sword of truth. The sword of the first emperor of Nur. It glows when in contact with an accursed.”

The sword of truth? That was the first time Ayah had heard about this. Loaye had said nothing about some heirloom that could flesh out devil worshippers.

“The kingdom of Nur is the one responsible for dealing with them. All kingdoms are required to hand over all the accursed to be tried and sentenced by the king of Nur.” She leveled Ayah with a look. “I don’t know why you want to head over there but I advise you to be more mindful of yourself. They won’t even try to reason with you. And if you’re somehow found out, the kingdom of Temsia would be held accountable for sheltering you. You said you didn’t want any harm upon our kingdom. Then I expect you to honor your words.”

At a loss for words, Ayah nodded.

Shoaib approached the campfire after Jamila excused herself to get some rest. “Are you okay?” he asked.

Ayah smiled. “I’m fine.”

He sat next to her, his fingers playing with the talisman hanging over the scabbard, a small eagle in flight. He looked at her, then away. He looked like a child about to ask his mother for permission for a sleepover at his best friend’s house. Ayah said nothing. She looked at him, a smile on her face, and waited.

She didn't have to wait long. His fingers closed around the talisman, his other hand holding the scabbard tightly.

“What my uncle said… I know he was harsh but…” He trailed off.

Ayah nodded. “I understand. He has a duty to protect the ones under his command. So I get why he was angry. I just don’t like getting yelled at.” She shrugged.

After her parents had died in a car accident, none of her relatives wanted to take her in, claiming they had too many responsibilities to add a child to their already hectic life, or they already had too many mouths to feed. It surely didn’t stop them from tearing at her parents’ inheritance like the vultures they were. They had dropped her at an orphanage and that was the last she saw of any of them.

Her life there wasn’t too horrible, nor was it a walk in the park. The orphanage personnel were a bunch of angry assholes who didn’t like being saddled with a bunch of kids no one wanted. They never spoke softly to them, nor dried their tears at night when one of them was missing the warmth of their parents. They always yelled, always screamed. Ayah made a vow to herself that once she got out, she'd let no one raise their voice at her.

It was then Ayah came to know about the joy of reading. It served as her only way of escapism from that harsh reality. She had read anything she could get her hands on, journal papers, magazines, memoirs… But when she stumbled upon the world of fiction, a world where she can live thousands of lives without leaving the comfort of her secret lair under the stairs, she had decided that she wanted to be part of it. A part of these worlds’ creation. So she became an editor.

Shoaib fidgeted. He glanced at her before his eyes turned back to the smoldering flames. “After my parents died, responsibility over the kingdom fell onto my uncle. He was young at the time, and many were after the kingdom’s power, so he learned the hard way how to be wary of outsiders.” he whispered.

Ayah’s eyes softened. He looked so small, yet held between his shoulders the heaviest burden a child could ever carry.

“I’m sorry for your parents,” Ayah said.

Shoaib nodded.

He threw a few sticks into the fire to keep it burning, then threw a sheepish look at Ayah. “Don’t get too angry with my uncle.” Shoaib’s lips curled into a reluctant smile.

Ayah ruffled his hair. “I won’t.” She smiled.

He swatted her hand and sent her an affronted look. “I’m not a kid!” he protested.

“Of course.” Ayah couldn’t help the bubble of laughter that burst out her throat.

They settled into a comfortable silence, broken only by the sizzling of the fire and the muted thuds of the training dummies as they were horrifically murdered by Harith.

“So… Do you like my uncle?”

Ayah sputtered. “What? Why would you think that?”

“You called him…sweetheart earlier,” he said, his cheeks tinged red.

Ayah grimaced. “That’s just a bad habit of mine. Whenever I get angry, I start calling people such nonsense.”

“I see.” He sighed, his shoulders sagging.

Did the kid just deflate a little?

He stood and dusted his clothes. “You need to rest. Tomorrow we’ll depart at first light.” He bid her goodnight and left.

Ayah stood up to go to the tent she shared with Jamila and glimpsed Harith coming back from the training ground. He spared her an unreadable look before he darted away in the opposite direction of the tents.

She found him sitting on a downturned tree log, facing the forest. She sat next to him. He shot her a brief look before he turned back to the shifting darkness.

“Have you… calmed down yet?” she asked, which spoke volumes about her disastrous survival instinct.

He raised an eyebrow at her. “What do you want?”

“It came to me that I still haven’t thanked you yet for saving my life. For both times.” She looked at him, intently, waiting for him to acknowledge it for the olive branch she was extending his way. Now he only had to inch a bit forward…

“Don’t make a habit out of it.”

Ayah rolled her eyes. Nothing was easy with him. “I’ll try. No promises though.” She grinned.

“Of course.” He snorted.

They lapsed into a comfortable silence. Ayah gazed at the shadows that writhed at the edge of the forest. Were they monsters? But Harith’s nonchalance eased her rising worry. For if they were, surely he would have noticed them.

“How did you defeat them?”

“What?”

“The wild wolves,” he clarified. “A couple days ago, you couldn’t even hold your own against a basic sword strike. How did you defeat all those monsters? Jamila is a healer, one of our best healers. But her brilliant skills do not extend to fighting. So how did you do it?”

“I’ll have you know I trained everyday under Shoaib’s guidance. He’s a good teacher.”

“Of course he is,” he said, pride coloring his tone. He shot her look. “But even the best sword master can not teach you much in the span of two days.”

“Maybe it’s an innate talent.” She shrugged. She looked away to avoid his praying eyes. He was persistent, too persistent for her liking.

“Shoaib told me about your desire to attend the Concord of Sovereigns,” he said. Ayah was glad for the change of topic, but her gratefulness didn’t last long. “Why would you want to go there with your… peculiar situation?”

Ayah startled. Did he suspect anything? She looked at his face, searching for the usual condemnation that accompanied any talk about the accursed. But found none, only curiosity.

“I have my reasons,” she said.

“The kingdom is not a welcoming place for your−”

“I was under the impression that I was your kingdom’s honored guest. I thought that accounted for something,” She said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Harith snorted. “Of course.” He paused, his eyes staring into hers. “Any honored guest of Temsia would be under my protection.”

Ayah fidgeted under his intense gaze. She cleared her throat and stood up. “I’ll be counting on you then.” She clapped his shoulder and left back to her tent.

“Goodnight boys,” she called at a group of young warriors who were staring at her and murmuring amongst each other instead of doing their nightly guard duty.

They straightened up and gave her a salute. “Have a restful night, my lady.”

Ayah shook her head. What a bunch of weirdos.