“I know I said I wanted to repent, but don’t put me in the body of a bug, alright?”

“It was never my intention to put your spirit energy in a weak vessel. You would return too quickly, and that would be the end.”

“Last question. If I run into trouble, would you be able to help?”

“No. I am not able to interfere events outside of this domain. Additionally, you will not recall what transpired here.”

“What? Why?”

“I do not make the rules, merely enforce them. Now, you’ve wasted enough time. It is best you be on your way.”

“Wait, I’m not–“

----------------------------------------

A tingling sensation. My awareness, like a piece of driftwood, rises to the surface. Muffled noises grow clearer and more crisp. Voices rise above sounds of crackling fire and grating metallic shrieks, reverberating in varying pitches of fear and fury.

Memories, strange yet familiar, trickle into my mind.

I watch as Shi Ning’s coffin is shoved into the furnace. Ling Ge’s mouth moves, saying something that makes my blood boil, which Ying Ze cools with her frigid gaze.

Athea’s arms stretch to catch me as strength flees my body. Her gaze, first confident, turns to despair. Then, my heart stops.

“RAHHHH!” The yell cuts through my mental fog. My eyes fly open.

A streak of green soars through the air. It disappears from sight, and I hear a wet thump accompanied by vibrations from its impact. Instinct screams at me not to make a sound. Muddled as I am, that innate thought overrides all other reasoning. I catch my tongue between my teeth. I tense my body and make sure every limb, every muscle, is stiffer than an iron rod and just as unbending.

“REEEE!” A beastly shriek, followed by another agonized yell.

“I’m running out of SP,” A man says.

“It’s your fault for going hunting when we told you not to!” A second voice, this time a woman’s. The beastly shrieking grows louder. “Don’t expect me to cover you. If I use another skill, you can count yourself having one less party member. You know what will happen if we use up our SP.”

I keep my jaw firmly clenched and keep my gasp wedged in my throat. I concentrate on the heartbeat thumping in my ears. My choppy breathing begins to even out, and my vision sharpens into focus. But before I can fully calm down, I see the face inches away from mine and nearly bite off my tongue in shock.

Anyone who sees her would think she’s pretty. She has an oval shaped face, high cheekbones and an cute nose. Her pale skin and green eyes create a striking contrast, the sort of combination capable of leaving lasting impressions.

She isn’t devastatingly beautiful, but her face is one people would find pleasant to gaze at for hours on end. I would not mind doing it if there wasn’t a coat of red painting the right side of her face.

Both of us are splayed out on our sides and facing each other. But while my eyes are firmly on her, her eyes are fixed on something above us. I lower my gaze to her lips. Drained of colour, they seem permanently affixed in a grimace.

Is… is she dead?

“It might be big, but it’s only level fourteen. Even without using a skill, you shouldn’t be having so much trouble!”

The woman bites back, “And what about you? If you have enough time to talk, concentrate on getting rid of those low levelled pests. They’re in my way. Shooting at the orc is useless if it keeps using those goblins as meat shields!”

A roar cuts off the rest of their conversation. Unlike the first beastly screech, which resembled nails on a chalkboard, this one is low and deep like the bellow of a furious lion on steroids.

“Stupid human!” This voice is distinctive from previous ones. It’s a gravelly, rasping sound nothing like anything I’ve heard. “You ugly ones keep attack. I get brothers!”

Flecks of dirt bounce up and down as the owner of the voice flees the scene. The sounds of fighting don’t dwindle despite its escape. Instead, the noise grows even louder, to the point where I almost wish I am unconscious to escape the racket.

“GEGE! GEGE!”

Screams splits the air, followed by two weighty thumps. The man yells in frustration. With my face against the ground, I can feel the vibrations of his footsteps dashing in the direction that strange voice had escaped in.

“I’m going to catch that orc. We’re not returning to Helia until I skin that thing alive.”

I hear the woman scoff. “Did you think I’d let you go by yourself? I’m not going to let it go, not after what it did to Mel.”

I don’t understand what they’re saying. Maybe it’s due to just waking up, but I am unable to distinguish the meaning of their words. I pay no mind to it, though, and continue laying there, trying to sort through my jumble of thoughts.

“Wait,” A new voice calls out, “I need to heal.” The ground sends me tremor from hesitant footsteps. “Hey, don’t leave me here!”

Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road.

“There shouldn’t be anything higher than level twenty around here,” The woman’s voice is wispy and distant. “Just find a place nearby to rest. Don’t let yourself get ambushed and you’ll be fine till we get back.”

He calls out to her again, “But I’m also out of SP!”

When I don’t hear a reply, I know his friends aren’t coming back. I continue acting unconscious as he shuffles off to unknown distance behind me.

“Why are they always so impulsive…” His voice carries easily. It’s quiet now. Peaceful. The wind whistles overhead, portions of it sweeping down and brushing past my face. “I told them to give me time to cast a barrier before we left, but no. Delivering the accessory on time was just too important.” His sigh is long, heavy. “So what if we could’ve gotten a huge reward? Mel can’t come back from the dead.”

Without the presence of the other two, I’m able to relax. Now that the pressure of getting caught and possibly dying is absent, the questions I previously ignored come rushing back.

Who are these people? How did they get here?

Where am I? How did I get here?

In slow, painstaking movements, I use my fingers to feel about my surroundings. I dig them into the ground, squishy and soft. Dirt burrows under my nails and blades of grass tickle my cuticles. This isn’t a dream, then. Everything feels too realistic.

I try recalling what happened after escaping Shi Ning’s room. After Athea appears at the end of the hallway, what happens next is nothing more than a grey fuzz of confusion.

But, in place of a perfect memory, I somehow retained the distinct feeling of something sliding out of my chest. I shudder. Had I been stabbed?

I wriggle a finger. I focus on my breathing. I feel the wind on my face, hear the cries of strange insects, and the soft rustling of grass. I can’t bring myself to believe I’m dead. I mean… I’m clearly alive. Then, the only other answer is the ‘memories’ in my head is simply a nightmare I conjured.

And then, there’s her.

I look at the female corpse before me. Hysteria creeps at the edges of my consciousness, but I manage to fend it off by focusing on a single matter.

First thing’s first. Is this woman even real? This could be one of those life like wax models or mannequins. The pallor of her skin is certainly reminiscent of those fakes. They might have put her here to scare me.

I don’t know who ‘they’ are, but it’s probably Ling Ge who came up with this. He has a sick mind.

The tension in my stomach slowly eases. See? I assure myself. If I can keep my head straight, I can take my time to figure out what’s going on. Letting my emotions overwhelm me would end up perpetuating a vicious cycle of bad decisions made in panic. I’ve made enough of those types of decisions for one lifetime.

“It’s broken. Broken!” An enraged yell drags me back to reality. “Oh saviour, you must really hate me for it to happen at a time like this.”

Something hard bounces off my head. Then, another and another.

If I wasn’t so confused, I would get up and curse this guy’s entire line of ancestors. This might be why his friends left him behind. No one wants to hang out with someone who throw rocks at people when they’re angry.

“I can’t just sit here and wait for my SP to replenish. How long will that even take? Ugh, I don’t want to do this, but… remaining defenceless would be worse. I hope you’ll forgive me for doing this, Mel.”

This time, I dedicate my focus to absorbing his words. However… I still can’t decipher what he’s saying.

His accent isn’t heavy, so it should not be the reason for not understanding him. Is he speaking in a dialect or in another language entirely? Even if it was a different language, it should at least sound familiar. I think I can at least identify languages when I hear it. English, Chinese, Cantonese, the list goes on… what else can it be?

My head begins to ache, bringing with it another wave of anxiousness. This is not a good time for my body to start breaking down.

Caught up in that numbing sensation, I almost fail to notice the sound of stomping growing increasingly loud. Oh no. He’s coming this way. But why?

The face opposite mine stares back unblinkingly.

Right… he’s probably coming to check on this woman… mannequin… thing.

Should I get up or make some sign to show I’m alive? I’m desperate enough to talk to this stranger, who might possibly be a blood thirsty killer, and inundate him with all my burning questions.

In the end, I decide to listen to my gut. I continue playing dead with the objective of seeing what will happen next.

His boots come into view. I flick my eyes up and steal a look at him.

The first thing I notice is his almost emaciated his face. He looks like he hasn’t eaten this past century. His billowing robes are toyed with by the breeze, air whooshing through the opening in his garments and flapping them noisily, like a flag on a pole.

Ignoring his weird choice of dress, I can see how stick thin his body is from the way it hangs off him. I would not be surprised if he actually stole it off a scarecrow.

The woman’s face is obscured by his robes when he bends over to search her. I grow bolder. I gingerly lift my head and slant my neck downwards to get a better view.

He unbuckles the leather plate strapped to her chest – is this some kind of mannequin cosplay? - and tosses it over his shoulder. He proceeds to stuff his hands under her shirt. When his hands come up empty, they descend to the belt around her waist. It produces small clinks as he fiddles with it.

He grunts something unintelligible and bends even lwoer. My nose crinkles at the rancid combination of sweat and a sharp, coppery stench. It’s so strong I fight the urge to gag.

During his search, his cloak manages to drape itself over my legs. It’s unbearably ticklish whenever he moves. I have to work to quench the giggles in my throat. It’s not torture, but I’m relieved when he steps out of my personal space after straightening up.

“At least your Spirit Box didn’t end up like mine,” he says.

Wait. What?

Why can I suddenly make sense of his words? He was speaking gibberish just seconds ago! Was I so muddled after my sleep I couldn’t understand him till now?

The urge to clutch at my head grows stronger. This whole situation is threatening to make me go insane.

Blissfully unaware of my inner argument, he continues talking to himself. “It’s intact, but why is there so little spirit energy?” He groans. “Well… it’s still better than nothing. I’ll have enough for at least two spells. I better cultivate this before something decides to show up.”

My mind is completely fried. What is he even going on about?

Forget it, as long as he goes away and leaves me to mull over this situation in peace, I won’t ask for anything else.

I feel the vibrations in the ground as he walks away, getting further with each step. I knit my eyebrows into a frown. I mutter, “Can’t you walk any faster?” and freeze.

The voice is raspy. Low timbred like a man’s, but harsh and grating like someone speaking through a sore throat. It grates on my already sensitive nerves. A sharp pain makes me realize I’m gnawing through the flesh of my bottom lip.

Calm down, Mei. That can’t be me. It was probably from someone else nearby. Maybe another one of this guy’s friends. I haven’t stood up to take a look around, so it’s possible the person was unconscious till now, like I was. If so, then I might have mistaken their voice for mine.

I wait and wait, but don’t hear that voice again. Nervous, I lick the blood flowing off my lips, tasting copper.

Let me try again, just to be sure.

“I-I am…” My quaking voice leaves no room for doubt. That’s my voice. “What the hell is going on here?” I sit up in a panic, breathing heavily.

I stare into the shocked face of the man I’d completely forgotten is still here. He blinks rapidly as if he doesn’t trust his own eyes, and then his pallid complexion goes even paler.

Before I can say anything, he raises his hand and yells, “!”