“The Executioner Rank. Probably the simplest to explain. Think of it like a leaderboard. You get assigned points for every hunt, or rather contributions. The top ten get handsome rewards, medals, and liberties—no need to get into the details, but it is something to strive for. There are leagues for every ten levels. Each rank gets you a better reward and a higher grade hunt.” Henneth tapped on the table, Tuk. Tuk. Tuk. Peering at Amaryllis’s pale complexion. “You should probably sit. I just remembered you went through quite an ordeal.”

“I remember Light mentioning something about Executioner’s ranking.” Amaryllis took a seat, placing the bottle on the counter.

“Did she? What did she say?”

“Nothing,” Amaryllis replied.

“Heh. You don’t need to worry about me. The only thing that interests me is science and magic, cannot bring myself to give two shit about all the nonsensical drama on the political side. It’s like watching two monkeys yell at each other when there’s an obvious solution.”

Amaryllis kept her lips shut. She believed Henneth’s words, but Stella Blackfrost, according to Light’s words, was not someone Amaryllis should be talking about to anyone.

“Fear?” Henneth’s tapping grew rhythmic. Like humming a musical note. “Well, who could’ve guessed? Next comes levels and attributes and soul shards. There’s another thing called Soul Node, but it won’t appear in your status yet. These all go hand in hand.”

“You acquire Soul Shards and feed them to Soul Node; when it caps, your soul level goes up, and then you get a certain number of attribute points, depending on the quality of the node. You following me?”

Amaryllis nodded, “I think.” She took a deep breath, trying her best to stay focused.

“Soul shards are like fragments of souls of the creatures you kill. Heh, this was the easiest. Well, remember, you get soul shards for humans too… and they yield higher than creatures compared to risk because we are higher class beings than monsters. But you must never kill a human for that purpose. It’s a taboo that should be a given, but you’ll get a fever and bed rest for a few weeks if you try. Or insanity, if you use too many human-classified soul shards,” The rhythm shifted once she began explaining soul shards.

“Why?”

“It’s like trying to eat something bigger than your belly and end having your guts bursting out with wicked splash and slosh. They will appear separately from normal soul shards,” Henneth looked at her for a moment, “If you want a technical answer, hit the library.”

“I should go to the library, probably.”

“Nodes: there are normal monsters. If you’ve seen one, it’s probably normal. Then, there are higher-class monsters — commander, general, disaster, and way too many classifications to list them all, but when you kill these monsters, you sometimes acquire a Node — either crush them and get soul shards or use them. You still here?” Henneth didn’t get a response. Amaryllis continued to stare ahead. “Amaryllis.” Henneth tapped the table, sending a pulse of energy, jolting Amaryllis awake from her stupor.

Amaryllis blinked. “Water…” She sucked air. Once. Twice. Her breathing returned to normal, her chest still heaving.

“I don’t have any,” Henneth sighed, “Maybe it was not a good idea to have you go through this right now,” the rhythm changed again — a drum beating relentlessly. “But I’d rather be done with it, than prolong it. You need to be ready for the interviews by Five, and it’s already eleven in the morning.”

“I-interview? What interview?”

“Right. Right,” Henneth opened a drawer and placed a bundle of badly stapled-together papers. “That’s the next phase of assessment. It will impact your future heavily, but you’re not at risk of death, at least directly. I will get to these after the status. You kill higher-class monsters to get Soul Nodes.” Henneth waited for Amaryllis’s acknowledgment. Rhythm changed again. Amaryllis tried not to focus on it.

“I am following.”

“Nodes have one specific attribute like strength, dexterity, or intelligence. Keep feeding them soul shards until they fill. Once it's filled, a certain number of attribute points will be allotted to that specific attribute. How many? That depends on the rank of the node. Be it commander, general, etc etc. It is like a web of nodes. Once you fill it, further lines will open, leading to different lanes, each with more points and sometimes a skill or condition resistance. Without a Node, you cannot level up.”

Those words hit Amaryllis like a truck. “That makes no sense—”

“You can purchase the nodes. That’s what you’ll use the reward points for.”

Amaryllis nodded. Relieved. She thought she would be thrown somewhere again to kill a commander-class monster or something. And frankly, she didn’t believe herself surviving another encounter with those horrific creatures.

“Since you had cleared the second assignment without a soul-forged weapon, you get access to a tier above other assessees. So do your teammates and other people who have done the same. Consider it your reward, along with reward points and soul shards you’ve received.”

“Higher…” Amaryllis mumbled dreamily.

“Now, we get to attributes. They make you stronger and enable you to use skills once you reach a certain threshold, i.e., you need a fixed number of points to use specific skills. Anyway, you’ll get the hang of it once you get there. But, always keep in mind that you can only focus on specific attributes, one or two at a time. More than that, and you’ll be a useless dreg waiting to be slaughtered. One or two. Get it?” Henneth stopped tapping.

“Yeah. I get it. I doubt I’ll be able to afford all the Nodes at once.”

“After killing four serans? You surely can, of course, of lower grade. Of the attributes, physical ones are simple. Strength is strength. The only thing interesting about it is that one strength means nothing. You can be the weakest human in the world and still have one and be the strongest non-blessed human, but you won’t get above three. At five, you can bend a metal rod. At ten, you can damage the concrete with just punches. Just to set your expectations right.”

Amaryllis nodded. She could imagine getting to five. Ten seemed a long way to go.

“Speed is speed. Physical speed, not how fast your mind works.”

“I know…” Amaryllis muttered under her breath.

“Dexterity is, well, your agility — you have seen those gymnastic performances, yeah, that’s what you’ll be able to do — also your reaction time to attacks in close-quarter combat. Endurance is stamina. You’ll realize endurance is especially needed if you plan on performing consecutive skills, so even if you wound up as a mage or akin, endurance is a must. Strength is forgettable for you, at least for now. It’s the lowest, and you are entirely up on your mana. Speed…” Henneth stopped, her eyes glimmering like she found something interesting. “Nope, advice is off the table. Of course, of course. But it will have to wait.”

“Right…” Amaryllis said unsurely. Wondering if Henneth had some kind of mental illness.

“Now, the mana side of things.”

Amaryllis sat straighter.

“Better numbers than physical stats?”

Amaryllis kept her mouth shut.

“You think I cannot tell your numbers from a glance? Intelligence, eight.”

Amaryllis double-checked the intelligence column. Then, triple checked it. “How…?”

Was she lying? Can she read my status? Her expression froze. She felt cold.

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“Intelligence constitutes how much mana you have. How efficiently can you channel that said mana, and how long can you channel mana before overburdening your mind. Conce—”

“How did you know?” Amaryllis cut in.

“Just a glance is enough. You’ll be able to tell others intelligence too, at some point. If you live long enough that is. Can I continue?” Henneth asked smiling. A smile that said she was running thin on her patience. The tapping sound also hummed impatience.

“Yeah. S-sorry.”

“Concept is the weirdest of all the stat. It works like a base multiplier, even though the word concept has nothing to do with multiplication. If you have a spell that does 20 damage, an imaginary number, at level 1. Every spell requires you to have a certain number of concept stat to work — if lower, the spell fails, but if you have it higher, you get a twenty to thirty percent damage bonus. Sometimes lower, sometimes higher. This is what you used against seran. For mana enhancement, you require only 1 concept stat, but you have ten or something, I’m guessing.”

“13.”

“Thirteen, then… You got like six hundred percent base multiplier. In both speed and strength. But that’s only because you have a very low value in strength. It will go down as you level up or up if you leave your strength as is,” Henneth’s eyes widened, “Shit! I should’ve kept my mouth shut.”

“Why?” Amaryllis asked.

“Well… anyway, concept stat also does other things — unexplainable things. Like allowing you,” Henneth pointed her finger, hand still on the table, at her frost seal. “To hold the seal, and have a conversation. You have no understanding of this, but what you are doing should require at least fifty intelligence attribute points. But ten concept stats yield the same benefit or result. We do not have an explanation for it. But there’s no need to worry. Results are unexplainable but easily calculable. However, securing a concept attribute node is an exponentially expensive or life-threatening endeavor. So you won’t be able to focus on it. There’s a book that will explain all the concept-related functions; if you’re feeling up for it, ask me after the assessments.”

Amaryllis nodded again. But my weapon is a concept attribute. It’s the one I need the most. The little happiness she had felt for having a unique weapon dwindled. She’d rather have a lower-grade weapon that was cheaper to cultivate. Then again, how could she have a reward without feeling regret? Something had to go wrong. “Okay…”

“You don’t sound happy. Insight is a modification type of attribute.”

“Do you not have a clear definition? I think I will have an easier time hearing clear-cut definitions.”

“Are you saying I’m bad at explaining things?” Henneth asked, her eyes narrowed dangerously.

“N-no… I just,” Amaryllis clamped her mouth shut, taking a deep breath. “Sorry.”

“You cannot understand definitions. That requires you to know every jargon they throw around in the academy. And it’ll take at least another four hours to get the point across with those. Now. Insight is a modification type attribute. By modification, I mean, alteration in spell, conjured or otherwise. A simple explanation can be how hot a fireball will burn. Or not burn. There’s the base spell, which has fixed mana consumption and effect. Then, you infuse mana to change its nature. Create variance from that fixed outcome. How much modification can be done depends on this attribute.”

Amaryllis nodded. The tapping was growing louder but she didn’t dare to comment anymore. “So… how does adding a point to this attribute help? Like the more the value I have, the hotter the fire can burn.”

“In simple words, yes. The higher the insight, the higher the freedom with the spell. Next is Will. It resists certain mental effects, manipulation spells, and illusions — only the painful kind. Another effect it has is allowing you to fracture your stat limit and perform a self-destructive spell. Like how you destroyed your nerves against the puppeteer….”

“Amaryllis!” The gleeful voice whispered against her ears. They rang — like a steam siren going off. And sharp like a wire stabbing through her left ear and puncturing out from her right. Amaryllis froze. Clenching her jaw to not scream.

“Amaryllis!”

“Amaryllis!”

“Amaryllis!”

She felt a jolt, “Amaryllis?” Henneth looked at her. “You alright? If you want to, I can postpone the explanations for later.” Her finger still tapped the table. It somehow helped her mute the sirens.

“N-no, no. I am fine. Let’s just get over it.”

“I won’t. You don’t realize, but what I’m telling you has a very direct impact. Do you want to rest?”

Amaryllis shook her head. She just wanted to be done with it. And never return here. This place scared her for some reason. And that echo. This place was surely haunted.

“Okay. Soul forged weapon.”

“What about soul attunement?” Amaryllis asked. Henneth shot her a deadpan look.

“Really? I’m done with it. Leave.”

“But…”

“I’ll arrange someone to explain you rest of the things when you’re capable of hearing. And stop daydreaming about… well, I understand you’re having a hard time after everything, so rest and get your mind together. Take these,” Henneth shoved the stack of pages, “They are profile…” Henneth sighed, not speaking for a minute. “At four, I’ll send someone to your room. We are done for now.”

“I am fine.” Amaryllis insisted, trying to sound sure. But her words rang hollow to her ears.

“Yes, you’re. I explained Soul Attunement. Tell me what I said, and we can continue.”

“It’s… I…”

“Amaryllis. Go to your room. Take a cold shower. Eat something. Sleep. And Then. We can continue. Or… you can talk to me about what happened just now.”

“I’ll rest.”

“I’ll have someone pick you up at four. Be ready.” Henneth waited for a moment, “Leave the Anvil here. We cannot afford to lose it.”

…….

“How’s she doing?” Sanguine asked as Henneth took the seat, placing her coffee on the table. She began tapping the wooden surface. Sanguine frowned at this.

“A mess. I expected her to die on the anvil. But, a death so quick and painless is… well, not easy to come by. Took her three attempts, and still it was a barely.”

“Hmm, not surprising. Even if she somehow kept herself together, she is a civilian. That circus was not a place for her.” He drank his tea. “You think she’ll make a sound judgment?”

“What? No. Of course not. I doubt she’d take it lightly when she knows she needs to choose someone who will see her status.” She sipped her coffee.

“Take it lightly? You didn’t tell her,” Sanguine knitted his brows.

“Had to postpone the explanation in the middle. She needs to rest. I’ll send Violet to get her to my office before five.”

“Hmm…” He nodded.

“Anything from Yriel yet?” Henneth half expected a war in the HQ by now.

“Gisella Yriel exists no more.” He didn’t elaborate, and Henneth didn’t ask either. She had expected something like that after that disgraceful performance.

…

The door clicked. The knob creaked.

The messenger of the hunt had guided her through the corridors and to her room. It handed her the keys and vanished without a trace like a wisp of smoke in high wind.

The door opened without a sound. Greased and smooth. Amaryllis stepped in. Her steps were panicked. Uneven. Eyes dancing from one wall to the other. She turned, far too quickly, crashing into the side wall. Her head stung on the impact. Hissed as her sensitive skin felt the texture of the wall, but slammed shut the door.

She crashed onto her knees. Then remember, she had forgotten her keys outside, and shakily grabbed the doorknob again. It proved to be a harder task than she had thought. Exhaustion crashed into her mind. The world was wobbling, like a reflection in a rippling water.

Her breathing became harder with each passing moment. There was a sheen of cold sweat on her head.

“Amaryllis!” A cheery voice giggled.

She let go of the knob and clamped her ears. “Leave me alone…” She whispered. Curling up at the door. “Why me?” Her breath hitched as tears slid down her eyes. Sirens rang in her ears. Sharp. They hurt her brain.

After a moment, she gathered enough strength to move. Her mind had already forgotten about the key still hanging outside the door. She wanted to run away from this haunted hallway. She clambered through the long, empty alley. Her head throbbed. Eyes stung. Face completely red.

The room at the end was spacious. A well-made, springy bed. Nightstand on each side, which was a flower pot that smelled great. Her eyes landed on the pillow.

Amaryllis sat on the edge of the bed, squeezing the pillow into a hug. Then, she dragged it to her face, holding it even tighter, and screamed with every ounce of energy she had. Her scream never left the pillow. Only a muffled whisper came out, which would barely reach the other side of the bed.

She held it tighter and screamed again. She felt lightheaded. “Cyn…” she whispered.

“Oh, Amaryllis!”

Her mind went back to the puppeteer. And the gore. Her stomach rolled. She unsteadily rushed into the bathroom. There was no one here, she didn’t need to pretend she was fine.

….