Vic woke up a few hours after the sun had risen. She sleepily yawned, didn’t change into new clean clothes that she didn’t have, and brushed lazily her mop of a hair.

  The straw filled bed had been awesome. Mmmrmrmm.

  She tapped a few times her cheeks before deciding to get up. She needed to sell that loot of hers and maybe enjoy one extra day of good sleep before getting the hell out of the city. It was good not to have to prepare traps and detection spells. But not doing it might have been a bit foolish of her now that she thought about it.

  She grabbed the few thin pouches containing the monster’s remains and the mineral dusts and opened the door out, feeling her stomach grumble.

  A robed cultist was sitting on a crude wooden bench in the corridor. He peered up from his little book and smiled at her.

  Vic awkwardly smiled back, got out, closed the door with the key, and realised blandly that the cultist was on the way to the exit. She couldn’t really avoid him. She heard a “good day, isn’t it?” from him as she briskly walked towards him. She grunted back.

  He got up and dusted his robes.

  “Could you be going to the market?” he asked. “Oh, goodness, where are my manners, I am-

  “Sorry I’m kind of in a rush”, she interrupted as she paced past him. He followed behind.

  “Oh, if you are, I could give you some directions. I just happen to be in charge of most errands here”, he quickly said, smiling at her when she looked back. He was taller than her, but not by much. He was probably a young initiated. Sucked to be him.

  “It’s fine, I’ve been told your kingdom’s main city has a great commercial district. It should be easy enough to find the markets I need to find.”

  The ones related to monster parts would most likely be near the entrance’s fortifications. That made the most sense to her.

  “Oh! Where did you hear stories of our great capital?” the young cultist asked. He seemed genuinely curious, how odd.

  “Well I had heard nice things about it from a caravan of merchants I bought some poultices from. I was really intrigued about finding what seemed like a safe haven for humans and elves in this region for… reasons.” That didn’t concern this guy. Anyway.

  “Oh? And what might have been this good merchant’s name?”, the cultist asked. Vic frowned. Wait a minute, had she been the victim of a publicity stunt?

  “He didn’t say”, Vic answered, remembering quite clearly how the merchant had repeated his grand name a tad few times after having described the kingdom’s good reputation. She’d thought he’d just been extra. Damn. No way was she going to let a scummy merchant get money from tricking her into coming there. Those poultices had not been cheap.

  “What a good, benevolent soul”, the cultist smiled, “the thought of such a man would make His Eminence infinitely pleased.”

  Vic “huh”ed. “I’m sure he will”, she replied, hiding the rolling of her eyes. “Now if you please, I have some stuff to sell.”

  They’d arrived at the door’s entrance, which opened into an unpretentious side street. Now was her cue to go and leave this guy behind. She didn’t wait for him and walked out.

  The cultist followed behind, strolling fast to get back at her level.

  “Oh!” the cultist said, “will you be participating in the sorcerers’ competition? There are hefty prizes to be won and it is even opened to travellers! Our city’s pride and joy is our Enlightened Academy, it has birthed and opened the minds of many talented souls that only wish to be stimulated by exotic, obscure novel spellcrafts.”

  Money to be won through a competition? Huh… First time she had ever seen such a thing in this world. What a strange kingdom. It was definitely going up on the “safe” scale in her mind if they had time to waste on competitions of all things.

  “Ah, I don’t know, I’m more of a ‘shoot to kill’ type of mage. I’m not one that’d easily win a friendly spar, because I don’t do those”, she said, a bit smugly, because oh she hadn’t realised how cool that had sounded before she said it. That was some anime type of sentence that an awesome edgy character could have probably said.

  Then the cultist’s eyes fluttered while his unmovable smile remained stuck on his face, and her mood dimmed instantaneously.

  “You must be very talented”, he replied with a wider smile, “but they will not just be ‘friendly’ spars, even if killing one’s opponent is very frowned upon, they are an exercise of-”

  “Yeah yeah I’m not doing them, I’m not staying that long”, she interrupted. She was pretty sure that such a competition would happen over multiple days. She already was going to die inside if another one of those cultists tried to talk to her on the market. This was sooo exhausting. She couldn’t imagine a full week of this. A shiver went right through her spine.

  “Oh! But young one”, he said smoothly, and Vic stared, because that guy was at best her age, “you could also try out the Novel Spell Contest, this one is often won by travellers from outside, especially those that come from far away! There is nothing more exciting for our Academy than to witness new exciting spells and the jury is always happy to be enlightened with short yet incredibly instructive demonstrations.”

  Oh?

  Vic hid a snicker. Yeah she doubted anyone could replicate some of her arsenal.

  “You are in luck! There is one in this very afternoon, and the first prize is of a hundred golden honours!” the cultist joyfully said.

  Vic’s mind screeched to a halt.

  “Wh-what? How much?” she asked.

  The cultist gave her a soft smile.

  “Oh, but that is the first prize, it is quite hard to obtain”, the cultist helpfully provided. “Truth be told, it is a sum that allows the most talented students to live in the most comfortable quarters of the city while learning in…” and Vic quickly drowned out the rest while the cultist continued his rambling.

  One hundred golden honours. That would make it five hundred gold coins. She could already imagine how heavy it would be to have that much in her hands. What could she buy with that?! She could replace her old coat for a magical one perhaps! She’d always wanted a magical coat. Or perhaps she could buy herself some vambraces that actually fit her perfectly without needing extra clothe padding to stay in place, or perhaps she could even work towards her first true staff? But no, she’d heard over and over that it was best to build that one up oneself for the staff to truly fit her magic signature, whatever it was… Perhaps she could just instead buy some of the raw materials if she found them, but… she still didn’t know the innerworkings of staffs and she’d need to find schematics of that if any were sold here. And that was if the game system actually wasn’t going to work that out on its own once she had the materials in her inventory. Worst things worst, she’d improvise and learn with every new attempt, like she had most of the time done. It was a trying experience. But if she could find such a schematic to take inspiration from anywhere, it would be here, in a city with an academy of sorcerers. Perhaps that was were most of her prize money would go… and oh she was thinking like she’d already won it.

  But in a way… A little smirk spread on her face. Yeah. She could definitely win it if she gave it her all.

  “Where’s that competition taking place?” she interrupted the cultist, who was still rambling on the many advantages of living near the higher up districts and on some talented student who had become a sort of star celebrity and bla bla bla who cared.

  She side-eyed a bunch of guards that were passing by. They were both ignored by them.

  “Ah, it is fairly difficult to find, I could bring you to the entrance of the Hall if it would please you”, the cultist said with a strange brightness in his eyes.

  Huh.

  “No thanks, give me the directions, I can figure that one on my own after I’ve sold my loot off”, she said, patting her bag like a good dog, because no way was she letting this cultist get some extra “good boy” points from his cult for bringing a mage to their little competition.

  The cultist, for the first time in the conversation, deflated like he’d been shocked by an electric eel.

  “I can accompany you through the market, I’d know good deals”, he quickly said, his smooth smile coming back. He didn’t once stumble on his own words.

  Damn, it felt like he really was getting some promotion if he brought her to that competition. Probably just money, though.

  “No.” Vic said.

  She stared down at the cultist, who had his face frozen in an expression that looked like he had bitten on a lemon thinking it was a very yellow orange.

  Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

  Vic smiled to him.

  “Byeee!” she motioned, and quickly stepped away. She heard him follow.

  “I apologize if-”

  Vic glared back and the cultist stopped in his tracks.

  “I like my alone time. Back off”, she bit.

  The cultist said nothing.

  He smiled.

  “Of course, one as talented as you must need respite to focus on their spellcraft”, he said while bowing and quickly disappearing at the corner of a street.

  Fucking finally.

  Vic let out a breath of relief.

  Thank fucking goodness that was done.

  She froze midstep then.

  “Motherfucker”, she whispered. He hadn’t given her the directions to the competition. “That snivelling swamp rat…” she kept on quietly cursing, making a few heads turn towards her, walking towards the market from where she could already hear the ruckus of joyous agitation and the screams of vendors trying to lead old and new costumers towards their stalls.

  ___

  “Listen, when I tell you those are horns of middle tiered goat chimeras and not lower tiered, I am not laughing. I’m this close to heading to an actual apothecary that will know the difference without arguing pointlessly when I’ve killed the little shits myself”, Vic spat out.

  She was this close to snapping.

  The street merchant that had the largest stall that she had found regarding monster loot and at least four assistants working on said stall simply shrugged. Two soldiers that were most likely hired or bribed for protection glared at Vic.

  Oh, come on, being angry wasn’t a crime. It was going to be past midday and she hadn’t done any of the tasks she planned to do.

  “Yeah, and how did you do that exactly?” the merchant said, not helping Vic’s sanity. She was a middle aged elf that stared at her like she’d seen better liars than Vic.

  “I am a mage”, Vic seethed. Okay, yep, now she was leaving. She turned around and stepped away. She was going to find an apothecary. This elf was selling some monster wares but she couldn’t be an expert.

  “Oh come back kid, I was teasing”, the elf said. Vic didn’t stop. “I’ll buy them.”

  Vic turned around.

  “What about eight silver honours for all your stock of horns?” the lady said.

  Vic stared back.

  “I know what the horns are used for. They’re potent and easily sold”, Vic said.

  The elf chuckled while an assistant scurried off behind her.

  “Alright, and here I thought you’d just gotten your hands on some abandoned cargo in the wastes”, she said, shaking her head. “Ten silver honours”

  “Twelve”, Vic said. “And pay me in the common currency. I’m not staying in this city longer than I need.”

  The elf raised an eyebrow.

  “Oh? Gotten popular with our great local church, haven’t we?”

  Vic couldn’t hide the groan.

  “You must be good then”, the elf said, and bit on one of the horns Vic had just handed her. “Tastes right. It’s middle tiered, you weren’t kidding.”

  “Let’s settle on eleven”, the elf said. Vic simply nodded. She wasn’t going to argue for coppers. She was handed fifty-five silver commons from a coffer, while some people eyed Vic strangely. Eh, whatever. Thank goodness. It’d been a while since she’d searched for someone that had that many common coins. She’d lost so much time at two stands because they didn’t have enough of the normal currency and kept trying to pay her with a mix of the common and local currency.

  “Since you have plenty commons, I’ll tell you that I have magic gems. Interested?” Vic shot.

  The witch gave her an interested look.

  “You speaking of the ones extracted from monster corpses or the ones mined in caves?” the vendor asked.

  “The former”, Vic said. The vendor smiled pleasantly.

  After a quick discussion about the type of magic gems extracted from monster’s corpses, she was alleviated from fourteen of those tiny bulbous things and richer of a total of one gold common coin and a few dozen silver ones. It felt good to have empty pouches. She still had the mineral dusts and… some loot in her [inventory] to take care of. And that hidden stuff was more valuable than all she had brought along outside of it. She was going to be so rich by tonight.

  “You should have told me earlier you had them, you wouldn’t have made me count so many silver commons”, the middle-aged elf lightly said. Vic knew the elf’s stock had been low on gems, so that might have been why she was happy now despite having counted that many coins.

  Vic shrugged sheepishly.

  “Sorry about that. Do you know where I could find an alchemist’s shop? One that would be specialised in healing potions and… one that would take commons.”

  What she didn’t say was “one that would buy the better loot she had still in store”. Selling the ordinary stuff in markets had always been the way to go. Apothecaries and alchemists were the ones that’d pay well for rare stuff.

  In total, she expected to get around five golden commons for her efforts. A hefty, comfortable sum to get back on the road.

  The lady smiled. “Oh I know an elf”, she said. “Tell him that Anissa sends you.”

  A few instructions later, and she knew where “Orton’s shop” was.

  “He’s just gotten out of his apprenticeship but his stuff is great. It’s cheaper than most as he’s trying to dig his hole and build a loyal clientele so that should make you happy enough”, the elf smiled.

  Vic thanked her and walked away. Walking between colourful stands, receiving a few odd stares, she smelt some fried meat and she felt her stomach grumble again.

  There were a few food stands with some heavy spices. It was so weird to smell spices again. She’d nearly forgotten how it tasted. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt her to be a bit of a tourist for once.

  “How much for the skewers?” she asked to one vendor whose stand looked fancy and whose food smelt to die for.

  “You wouldn’t have enough, street vermin”, the vendor replied. “Shoo, you’re scaring off the rich customers.”

  Vic blinked.

  She smiled.

  “Oh? Oh I’m a street vermin?” she asked.

  The vendor squinted at her. Then side-eyed something at her far left and his eyes widened.

  She took out of her pouch the golden common she had just gained and waved it around.

  “Hey is this gold or copper in your opinion”, she bit. “Are you blind or just stupid? That’s the real kicker!”

  The vendor’s eyes came back to her.

  “I don’t care where you stole that from. I don’t take commons anyway. Quick, scram”, the vendor shooed in a pressing way that was just weird.

  “I’m a mage and I’m going to turn you into a frog once you go to sleep tonight”, Vic said, making a rude gesture to him while pacing away to her right. Well that wasn’t something she knew how to do but a threat was a threat.

  Also towards her right it smelt better anyway. That rude guy’s meat was probably coming from dead rats. She pocketed her golden coin and pulled out her tongue at the vendor, who was just staring at her with a strange sort of growing horror.

  She turned her head towards the next stand and instead hit full force something incredibly sturdy.

  She fell back on her back and brought a hand to her bloodied nose. She’d just lost a twentieth of her hp. “Ouch!” she cried out, then looked at her red hand and then up at the…

  The absurdly tall masked figure had an extremely long hp’s bar pop up just in front of him only for a second one to appear right under it. A figure made of intricate copper ornaments and heavy, adorned, lined blue robes was looking down at her from its full height. It wore a mask with strands of copper climbing up towards the sky in all directions, like it were imitating a tree desperately grasping for sunlight.

  An epic sad, melodramatic music boomed in her ears. And everyone else’s ears too. The music always could be heard by everyone.

  [Alberon, Cursedblood Emperor] appeared in front of her eyes, just above the boss’s hp bars.

  ‘No way no way no way no way’, she thought. No way she’d just started a boss fight in the middle of this city. What was that guy even doing outside of his dungeon anyway?? Mob bosses with that amount of hp nearly always stayed in them!

  Said boss started looking around him in a confused way, like all bosses did when the boss music happened when she fought them.

  None of them had ever figured out where that music was coming from. She wasn’t even the source of it. It affected an entire area where the music’s volume always remained the same no matter how much someone moved in it.

  She saw other people also confusedly look around to try to comprehend where the loud epic song was coming from.

  And now was her cue to go.

  She quickly rolled around and got to her feet, and after seeing that the masked ‘Cursedblood Emperor’ probably had his eyes now focused on her mostly because of her panicked expression, oh crap, she smiled back at him.

  And turned around to run away.

  She felt the magic spell before it reached her. Magic imperceptibly tensed in the air. Chains of pale flesh burst from the ground but she rolled on the ground and they phased right through her.

  There was a gargled sound of shock from the mob boss, like his kind usually did when they shockingly realised that no attack nor magic ever could reach her when she rolled on the ground.

  She rolled again and again for a few metres, evading another attack thanks to the game mechanic, until she got back to her feet and started running away, still holding her bloodied nose in her hands.

  She didn’t check if she was being followed, she just ran and hopped over a cart to hide briefly behind it after turning the corner of the street. Now the music had started to fade since she’d stepped away far enough. It was barely audible, for everyone in an area of fifty metres around her and the mob boss.

  She sighed.

  Damn, she hadn’t realised that she was near the richer parts of the markets. That might have explained the past stares. A new coat would at least help look more distinguished. The frayed aesthetic was most likely only cool to her. Bah, they had no taste.

  But maybe it was about time, she needed something to change her appearance a little bit and at least confound a bit any possible pursuers.

  She quickly raced again, being a bit weirded out as to why she hadn’t been followed. Maybe the guy assumed that if she could evade spells there was no way she could be caught, which was fine by her. His mistake.

  …Her nose was still bleeding, damn it. The flow hadn’t stopped.

  She groaned.

  As she held it, she crossed the gaze of someone wearing the garment of a cultist and whose eyes had been on her before she’d met theirs.

  She glared at the young woman and the priestess only smiled and waved back. She started walking poisedly towards Vic and Vic was only left screeching internally.

  She ran away once more. Her nose hurt.

  To hells, with those cultists. She was going to burn this city at this point.