Horseless, one could say that I was left with a choice to make, either to embark on the journey on foot, condemning myself to at least two nights on the road, or to attempt to acquire a horse, despite the struggle that would entail, since the only place to find one was with the people who themselves caused me to be horseless in the first place, the bandits.
I didn't need to think long about that. The moment I was confronted with it, I immediately chose the option that involved finding a horse.
I absolutely refuse to spend a night sleeping on the hard ground. If I could halve the journey I would spend in this verdant rocky desert that was that place, I would take that choice whatever consequence that involved. And so, after nearly more than an entire day's march across the green desert, I found myself at this place.
Seeing a column of smoke in the distance, I heaved out a sigh of relief. "At least that old man didn't lie."
After coming to the village elder Davon and the other villagers with an offer they frankly had no reason to refuse, I, after making them accept my offer, was given a direction where I was told I could find the bandits' encampment. It was somewhere between Gork and the city of Sheffield, which was three days away from the village.
To tell the truth, even if the possibility that the village elder lied to me about where I could find the bandits for my safety existed, I at no point doubted his words. I believed he had his own fair share of reasons to wish for my success.
So there was no pragmatic reason that could push him to lie to me, and as I thought, he didn't. Removing my gaze from the column of smoke behind a couple of hills in the distance, I cast a glance up at the orange sky. It was already late in the afternoon.
I felt like heading there later in the evening, to take advantage of the penumbra, but my gurgling belly made me abandon that idea. Time was against me; the earlier I got done with this business, the better it would be.
As I closed the distance to the source of the smoke column, I saw the place that was most likely their hideout, nestled between rocky outcrops. While from where I stood, I couldn't see them yet, standing sentinel at the entrance-like passageway flanked by towering cliffs that looked almost like a cave entrance, were horses, I was positive were the one I saw the night prior, grazing at the entrance to what I could tell was the bandits' hideout.
I wanted to see this done so not wasting a single instant, I walked past the horses and entered the cave-like entrance.
Since there was no one to watch the horse, what I could have done now was just take a horse and then take my leave. But no, I didn't come for just a horse. I didn't make a half-day journey to just leave with a horse. Clenching harder onto Impotence, my staff I use my magic to create a wall that sealed the entrance before making my way deeper and deeper into the crevasse.
Deeper, I not only felt and heard but also smelt the bandits' presence. There was a certain moisture in the air. Soon, I found the reason for it. I discovered the source of the smoke, which, as expected, came from the bandits' camp which was built around a light jade-colored oasis.
"Don’t you feel like it’s colder for some reason?"
"Colder?"
"Must be your imagination."
"Or just a gust of wind."
Standing there, hearing voices among which I could recognize the owner from the prior night, the lingering smell hit me like a wave, it was a strange amalgamation of scents, smoke, sweat, and something metallic that lingered in the air. The smoke from their campfire mixed with the tang of sweat, creating a pungent aroma that assaulted my senses. And underlying it all was a metallic undertone, perhaps from the weapons they carried or the armor they wore.
It was in that moment, as I winced at the smell, that the first bandit gathered in the encampment noticed my presence.
"Eh?"
Their expressions clearly showed disbelief.
"What the—"
"Oi! You all! We’ve got an intruder!"
"Intruder? Where?"
Warned by the first ones to notice me, the camp's entire attention shifted toward me. Swords were instantly unsheathed. Among them, I saw two of the bandits I had identified the night prior to be the leaders, most likely captains. One joined the other bandit in reaching for his sword, ready but surprisingly not drawing his sword, while the other, the moment he saw me, began shouting their leader's name frantically, "Gaarth!"
While the captains were more collected, most bandits were confused, unable to believe what they were seeing. Questions flew among them: "Who's that?"
"That's the girl from yesterday."
"Oh crap, you're right!"
"What's she doing here?"
"How would I know?"
Then, one asked, "What do we do? Do we attack her?"
"Fool!" the captain who didn't reach for his blade shouted. "Did you forget what Gaarth told you yesterday about her? She's a Verdenkind, one above level 15. You'd die without even understanding what's happening to you. Lower your weapons."
In that moment, the expressions of the bandits shifted from confusion to apprehension, if not outright fear. A smile appeared on a corner of my face, one that I didn't even bother to hide.
Level 15? No, I obviously wasn't level 15 yet, being only 12 and missing only a third of my required experience points to reach level 13. That's just a misunderstanding to be expected of clueless appraisal-less bandits like them.
With me just standing there, a very tense mood took over, the smell of sweat getting ever more potent. It was at that moment that the bandit leader appeared, asking, "What's happening here?" Then, upon seeing me, he froze, uttering, "You..."
Tauntingly, I asked, "Remember me?"
Gaarth took a couple of steps forward, then ordered his men to stand down, nodding in response to my question, confusion and a higher level of apprehension evident on his face.
Seeing that I said nothing else, but instead just stared at him, he ventured, "Why are you here?"
"You know why I'm here," I replied, adjusting my stance on my staff of Impotence.
Not letting the staff off his gaze, he shook his head. "I don't. That's why I'm asking."
Annoyance began to climb in my heart upon hearing his words. "I'm not really in the mood for jokes, for I've had a very bad beginning to this day and a very tiring afternoon, so I'm going to spell it out for you: One of you, I don't know which one, killed my horse."
The bandit leader frowned, then cast his glance back to ask the question, "Who did that?" at his men, who all collectively shook their heads as if denying the deed.
Their collective denial only further annoyed me, and Gaarth seemed to sense it, immediately saying, "I had no idea about your horse, but... if that's why you came here, I can... I can give you one of my horses as reparation."
I scoffed. "I hadn't made myself go through the struggle of walking here just to get a horse."
"I'll give you two, then," he proposed, which brought about a certain dissatisfaction from the men behind him, silenced immediately by a glare from Gaarth.
His attention returned to me, and he quickly understood from my silence that his offer to give me two horses was of no interest to me. So he asked, "What do you want, then?"
Wanting him to figure out the answer for himself, I did not answer. I simply stared.
"Listen, I really didn't know about your horse. I didn't order it, nor did I ever know of it. But if that's what you want, whoever did it among my men, I'll find the one who did it," Gaarth asserted.
Indignation spread among his men at the thought of one of them being sold out by their boss, but they were silenced once again by Gaarth's commanding tone. "Shut up, all of you! The one who did this is going to pay the price for what he did."
"Sorry to interrupt," I interjected, leaning forward slightly. "I think there might be a misunderstanding. That price you're offering... it's not quite what I'm looking for. I didn't come all this way just for that. I had something else in mind."
The frown on Gaarth's face deepened, accentuated by his unkempt beard. He asked, "What do you want, then?"
Instead of answering his question directly, I clenched my staff, tensing Gaarth, who reached out for the pommel of his sword, ready to draw it to protect himself. Calmly, I remarked, "This is a nice staff, don't you think?"
Confused by the sudden change of subject, Gaarth nonetheless nodded. So I added, with the same serene and calm tone, "Not only is it fancier than my little wand from yesterday, it is also mightier, for it allows me to do much more than just get rid of vermin. It allows me to do so much more."
Gaarth's expression hardened as he cautioned me, clearly grasping my intentions. "Listen," he began, his voice tense with warning, "things aren't going to unfold the way you think they will."
"And why's that?" I replied making sure to sound extra cocky. "Because I can't see anything that will stop me from doing what I came here to do."
In a last attempt to make me come back to my senses, Gaarth pointed out, "We've got you outnumbered."
I couldn't help but chuckle. "Outnumbered? I can't see how I'm outnumbered, unless perhaps by them?" I gestured toward the bandits. "Because if it’s them, I'm afraid "outnumbering" me won't do much. One ant or fifteen, what's the difference? A single step should get the job done. Unless perhaps it is your two Verdenkind friends that you're talking about?"
I glanced at the bandit I had identified as one of the captains, shaking to see me looking their way. Perhaps realizing he could no longer hide, the Verdenkind who had called for Gaarth immediately upon seeing me exited the crowd, as if to bravely assert his presence and intimidate me.
However, all he managed to do, in my eyes, was make a fool of himself. From behind the crowd, he had a nice shield for himself, and yet he stepped forward to make a show of himself when he was clearly pissing his pants.
Chuckling inwardly at the Verdenkind captain’s attempt to assert himself, I couldn't help but reflect on my uninterfaced ability to discern the true nature of beings.
Though, to be honest, calling it that is probably a bit of an exaggeration. If I were being fair, I'd say it's more like an in-built 'peon detector.' It lets me sense something that's missing from peons, regular animals, and most inanimate objects, something we call GP. In this weird world, everything has GP, except for those three things. It’s this ability to sense GP that allows me to tell at a glance whether someone is a peon, Verdenkind, or Highbreed. Now, while it might sound like I can gauge someone’s power or status with this ability, I can’t. It just lets me spot who isn’t a peon, which is why I can so easily distinguish a Verdenkind from a peon, but telling a Verdenkind from a Highbreed with just a glance? Fat chance.
That’s how I could tell who among the bandits were the leader’s captains. Now, I couldn’t say for sure if they actually held that title, but they met the criteria I made up for them. First, they were both Verdenkind just like the leader, and second, I was able to tell they were of a lower level from their reaction, the previous night, when I purposefully passed myself off as a magician.
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In this world, there were 15 Core Classes. Cleric, Warlock, Druid, Mage, Wizard, Healer, Knight, Warrior, Rogue, Paladin, Barbarian, Ranger, Sorcerer, Monk, and Summoner. These classes were known as core classes for a reason, they were the only classes one could choose from at level 1, when one gains one’s initial access to the system.
Any classes that weren't among these 15 were either special classes or classes obtained above a certain threshold, generally starting at level 12 to 18. When I claimed to be a magician, a class not among the core 16, Gaarth's captain's immediate assumption was that I was at least level 15, for this this was typically where the specialization threshold lay for most martial and S.P.-focused classes. But this threshold is reached much earlier for MP-focused classes, particularly Sorcerers, with a specialization threshold as early as level 12.Of course, expecting a bandit to know that was expecting too much. It’s already a miracle that they came to the incorrect conclusion that I had to have at least reached the class specialization threshold.
I also noticed that as soon as I mentioned being a magician, the two captains, cowardly as they were, immediately looked to Gaarth as if he were their only hope against what they assumed was a level 15 opponent. This made me think Gaarth was below level 15 but at least above level 12, since the captains seemed to believe they had a chance if they fought together. But Gaarth’s reluctance to engage, even when taunted, confirmed that he likely fell between those levels, just enough for the captains to believe they might stand a chance against the level 15 magician they thought I was.
Raising my staff, I summoned a whitish magic circle, causing most of the bandits to back off deeper into the hideout, recognizing the danger they might be subject to if they were caught in the crossfire.
Gaarth responded by drawing his sword, his intent clear as day. "You’re going to regret this miss," he declared firmly, having given up hope on talking things down.
Chuckling at his bravado, I shot back, "You seem to forget, Gaarth, I'm not some helpless peon or a low-level Verdenkind to be easily defeated."
Instead of instantly unleashing my [Ice Magic], I manifested four skull-sized balls of ice around me with one of my spells. Before Gaarth or his captains could come up with their first move against me, I unleashed from the magic circle I summoned a large icicle that I hurled at Gaarth.
With a swift cleavage of his sword, Gaarth, in one blow, shattered the incoming icicle into countless shards, but I wasn't finished.
I was about to unleash a second when from another corner one of the two captains manifested three birds of flame with his magic, sending them at me. Preemptively warned of the attack, I lifted my staff and responded in kind to his fire magic with my ice magic.
A rain of ice projectiles annihilated the birds of flame, shaking the captain who had summoned them.
As MP-centric classes, mages and sorcerers had a few key differences. Mages utilized magic-type skills, while sorcerers focused on spell-type skills. This made mages more adaptable, relying heavily on their imagination, MP, and aptitude, while sorcerers boasted uniformity, allowing for faster casting.
However, these distinctions came with their own set of advantages and disadvantages. The magic-type skills, while versatile, often required more time to cast as the effects were summoned through intricate magic circles, ones that still had to be mentally adjusted by the caster. On the contrary, spell-type skills could be cast swiftly, but their uniformity meant that a fireball spell, for example, would always be just that, a fireball, limiting its real-world applications.
In this instance, I used my [ice magic] against his [fire magic], overwhelming him, despite his status as a mage, on his own turf. The key to that outcome lay in levels, both our respective level and that of our skills’.
Wanting to take advantage of this opportunity to finish one of the three Verdenkind off, I raised my staff aiming at the mage captain but in that crucial moment, the bandit leader and his captain charged toward me, with very obvious malicious intent
With a decisive stomp of my foot, I activated the spell I had preemptively summoned but not fully activated—[Frost Burst Detonation]. The skill triggered not once, but four times in rapid succession, caused the skull-sized balls of ice around me to explode with tremendous force.
The resulting shockwave sent the charging bandits reeling backward, their swords dropping from their hands as they cursed in pain and surprise. The other bandits, the peons, screamed in terror as they were caught in the blast, the ice shrapnel cutting through the air around them.
Frost Burst Detonation was one of those spell-type skills that, at low levels, looked absolutely useless until one found the right way to actually use it, other than its conventional application. As a spell, it was one of the slowest available spells in my catalog.
Casting it was rapid, but for the spell to have any positive application, one had to summon it and send the slow moving ball of ice onto the target. However, the target, who might attack from a distance, could cause it to explode on one’s face instead of the target’s. Making one one's own victim.
As a redeeming quality, the spell came with two variations, something spell-type skills seldom do. One was that upon explosion, the ball would unleash either a strong gust covering anything in the burst radius in a layer of ice or have it explode and unleash a highly pressurized mist that would violently send out ice shrapnel in all directions.
While that’s great, that didn't redeem the fact that the skill might, and most likely would, explode on my face when used. That's why I made it a resolution to never use it, or at least that was the case before acquiring my Ice Immunity abilities, to be exact, my Ice Mild Immunity. It was an ability that not only granted me a heightened level of resistance to ice attacks, but it also rendered me completely immune to any damage done by my ice attacks. This ability completely changed my view of Frost Burst Detonation. The skill that I had thus far avoided became one of my favorites because my Ice Milder Immunity allowed me to use it in a unique way that I was pretty positive was not what those who designed the skill intended. Lacking any defensive skills, I realized that the best use of that skill was to use its highly-pressurized explosion to stop any opponent from getting close to me.
As the explosion subsided, a large screen of cold, cloudy mist enveloped the area, obscuring visibility. Knowing it would soon dissipate, I knew I had to act quickly. Activating Cryogenesis to freeze the ground beneath my feet for added stability, I then unleashed Frost Glide, propelling myself forward with swift momentum.
Rushing through the cold mist, my passive skill Eagle Vision allowing me to see through the haze with clarity, I, with precise aim, unleashed another stalactite of ice, firing it forward into the mist as I pressed on, determined to end this confrontation swiftly and decisively.
The sound of my stalactite shattering against the wall could be heard, then silence.
As the mist dissipated and the chaos subsided, the bandit leader and his captain, enraged and disoriented, frantically searched for me.
"Where is she? Where's that bitch gone?" they spat, their voices thick with anger and frustration.
Little did they know, I had repositioned myself close to the other captain, the one who had unleashed his fire magic at me moments earlier. With precise aim, I unleashed my stalactite attack upon him.
Despite the instinctive reaction from the captain, my attack did not miss its mark. It struck him squarely, depriving him of the ability to muster a reaction: a head. All that remained was a headless corpse, from which blood spurted like a fountain before the lifeless body fell limply backward.
The scattered peons stood stunned and disoriented, unable to comprehend the events unfolding before them. Paying them little attention, I turned my focus to the bandit leader and the remaining captain. Summoning several skull-sized balls of ice with my [Frost Burst Detonation], I faced them with determination.
"One down, two more to go," I muttered, my voice steady as I pointed my Staff of Impotence toward them.
"Bran? You bitch, how dare you!" the last remaining captain exclaimed, his rage boiling over as he charged toward me. "You'll pay for this!"
"Darius stop!" The Bandit leader ordered, seeing the frenzy the last remaining captain entered and noticed the smile on my face. Unfortunately for his captain, his words fell on deaf ears.
With a smirk, I pointed my staff toward him but refrained from unleashing an attack through it. Instead, I pointed toward the rushing captain casting a spell—Hexed Frost Dagger Conjuration. The ice daggers rained down upon him, forcing him to defend himself with his sword. Although he deftly shattered some daggers, some others cut him, causing him to struggle even more so to protect himself against the remaining raining dagger.
Seizing the opportunity, I conjured Hexed Frost Sword Conjuration, involving swords into the mix of flying ice dagger. The outcome was very predictable. So much so that the bandit leader, rushing to his companion's aid, came to a sudden halt, realizing the futility of any attempt.
Mercilessly , the swords tore through the air, finding their mark with unerring accuracy. The bandit captain's defenses crumbled against the onslaught, the cold blade effortlessly piercing through his flesh and driving deep into his chest and limbs. A look of disbelief crossed his face as the as the frost hex effect of the Hexed Frost sword Conjuration manifested, causing ice to spread from the wound he stumbled backward, clutching futilely at the wound and the spreading ice before collapsing to the ground, shattering like ice sculpture.
"Fuck!" Gaarth cursed, clenching his sword.
He seemed ready to make a suicidal charge. But just before he could act, he hesitated, his wavering resolve giving reason and a desire to live the upper hand over rage. The bandit leader's snarl of rage slowly morphed into a look of fear and utter defeat as he lowered his sword, prompting a chuckle from me internally.
With my staff still pointed toward him, I asked, "You're not fighting anymore?"
He hesitated before responding, his voice almost imploring, "Fighting? We've done nothing to fight you. You're the one who attacked us without a single reason."
"Didn't I give you my reason?" I retorted, unyielding.
His expression shifted, revealing a mix of frustration and denial. "We've not killed your damn horse!" he barked before quickly regaining control over his emotions. "Listen, whatever you believe, I can assure you we—I have done nothing to your horse."
"It had a name, you know," I interjected. "Veilleuse."
"..."
"But the matter of you not even caring about my horse's name aside," I continued, "there seems to be a misunderstanding here."
"A misunderstanding?" he echoed cautiously.
"Yes, a misunderstanding. Revenge is against our policies. I'm not here for revenge for my 'damn' horse. I didn't kill your men for revenge."
"So why?"
"Why? You're seriously asking me that? I made a deal with the villagers. A deal that involved getting rid of their bandit problem. You see, I initially planned on leaving that village this morning. I was only planning on resting there for a night. But because of you or whoever killed Veilleuse, I couldn't do that. Because I needed a horse, but there was no way I would just make my way all the way here to just get a horse. That would be insulting to myself, both for my time and for the struggle I would have to go through to just get here. So my offer was to get rid of their bandit problem and scavenge whatever I wish to scavenge from you in exchan—"
"If that's what you want, I'll give it to you," he interrupted. "No need to fight me. I'll give you everything you want! Our money, what we've taken from the village, or, no and anything else. I'll give it all to you."
"Really?"
"Yes. Everything. We have gold, jewels, we've got a lot of things..."
"That's interesting, but I'm wondering if you can give that thing to me," I said, glaring at him.
"That thing?" he asked, unable to guess what I meant.
"You’re born in this region, aren’t you? There's no monsters for me to acquire experience from in this region. I came here because you people might provide me just enough to level up. So I'm not sure if you can give that to me. But regardless of whether or not you intend on willingly giving it to me, I will get it from you. And the only way perhaps that you have to prevent me from getting it from you is to kill yourself. So...what are you gonna do?"
It took him a moment to digest what I just said. And as he did, "you're crazy," he replied, trembling before doing something that was to be expected from a coward like him: running away.
I followed.
The bandit leader sprinted towards the cave-like hideout entrance in a desperate bid to flee, only to stumble with the ice wall I had erected in advance. With a fierce snarl, he struck at it, triggering cracks hinting at an incoming collapse, but before he could land the blow that would’ve granted him freedom, I was already upon him.
As he stumbled, I unleashed my ice magic at him. He shielded himself with his sword at the last moment, but it was too late. He crashed against the wall of ice and was projected out into the open.
As he lay sprawled on the ground, struggling to get up, I approached him with a steady pace, my staff of Impotence held firmly in my hand, skull-sized balls of ice hovering around me ready to be detonated should there be a need for it.
The bandit leader's eyes widened with fear as he scrambled to his feet, his sword held in a trembling grip. "Stay back!" he shouted, his voice filled with desperation.
I stopped a few paces away from him, studying him with a cool gaze. "You know, I could easily end you right now," I said, teasingly.
He swallowed hard, his gaze darting around nervously. "Please... I'll give you anything you want. Just spare my life," he pleaded, his voice barely above a whisper.
I raised my arm and pointed toward him, four lances appearing around me, all pointing in the direction my finger pointed at.
Guessing what I was about to do, "Stop!" he begged.
I had no intent to stop. Understanding that, he clenched his sword. Before he could attempt anything, I freed one of the lances, which severed his arm clean.
His scream pierced the air, echoing through the rocky landscape. "Please, no more! I beg you!" he pleaded, blood gushing from the stump of his severed arm.
But I remained unmoved. Ignoring his desperate cries, I unleashed another lance.
"No! No! Mercy, please!" he screamed, his voice filled with agony and terror.
But still, I didn't relent. With no motion, just my finger pointing at him, I released the third lance, cutting through the air and piercing his flesh.
There was no sound of begging or even a scream, just movement, uncontrolled ones. But still I unleashed my fourth lance, this time, there was truly nothing else but silence, at least until a notification appeared in the corner of my eyes.
[Notification]
Congratulations! You've Unlocked an acquired Ability!Ability Name: Legacy of Agony
Ability Type: Curse, Hex
Status: Unlocked
Description [Identification Lvl.7]:
[Level Up Interface]Experience requirement met.
Congratulations! You've Leveled Up!
『Expand』
Despite leveling up being one of my main goals for finding the bandits, I barely noticed the level up notification. My attention was focused on the ability I had just unlocked. Legacy of Agony. It's quite the unique and interesting ability. I hadn't expected to unlock the skill so fast. The subabilities it offers are so intriguing that I wish to try it right here and now.
But then something catches my attention in the corner of my eyes, not a system notification. It's a silhouette standing on a hill in the distance. It's outside what a normally built human being's field of vision would cover, but with my eagle eyes, I have access to a near 360° heightened sight of my surroundings.
I turn around toward the silhouette's direction, frowning as I allow my vision to achieve a zoom-like effect. In that moment, I see the silhouette vanish, not as if it's just disappearing, but as if it were never there in the first place. But I'm sure it was.
It was a slender silhouette, that of a man, holding onto what looked like a cane. Only one person comes to mind, Tavon, the village elder. But I know better than anyone that it couldn't be him. There's no way that old man made it this far. He's just an old man, a peon no less, not a Verdenkind and certainly not a Highbreed.
As I'm questioning what I just saw, a sound from behind catches my attention. It's the horse posted at the bandits' hideout, neighing nervously. Turning around, I see what they're neighing at, bandits who survived the battle between me and their leader and captains. They're attempting to make their escape but freeze on the spot when they see me turn around.
I smile at them, realizing I have the perfect target practice for my newly unlocked ability.