Chương 66: Book Two Prologue: Alicia

Something was wrong. The thought entered Alicia's mind the moment she awoke. Her Intuition trait pulsed faintly, warning her of a danger it could not define. She was awake instantly. No grogginess. No lingering haze of sleep. One moment unconscious. The next, alert and listening. There were no screams. No sounds of panic. No smell of smoke. Her hand closed around the staff beside her bed as she continued listening. Nothing. Then— A rapid series of knocks rattled her door.

Not the measured rhythm of someone asking permission to enter. The enthusiastic assault of someone attempting to break through the wood using sheer determination. Alicia exhaled quietly. She recognized the sound. It had been a constant part of her life ever since the person responsible had learned how to walk. Despite herself, the corner of her mouth lifted slightly.

"I'll be right there." The knocking continued. It always did. Alicia rose from bed and pulled on a set of casual clothes with practiced efficiency. An attempt to save the door from its usual morning fate. A pointless one. She opened it. A small girl stood on the other side. Long brown hair. Bright eyes. A truly catastrophic case of bedhead. Emma beamed at her and immediately held up a brightly colored flower-shaped hair clip like an offering. Alicia's expression softened almost imperceptibly.

"Again?" Emma pouted.

"You do it way better than me." A pause.

"Or Mom." She shuddered dramatically.

"Especially Mom. Every time she does my hair, I swear she's trying to pull it out." Alicia grimaced. That was, unfortunately, a fair assessment. Their mother possessed many useful talents. Cooking. Cleaning. Sewing. Hair care was not among them. Alicia stepped aside. Emma immediately marched into the room and dropped into her usual spot beside the bed, as though she owned it. Which, after nine years, she practically did. Nine years.

Nine years since Alicia had arrived in the village with nothing but the clothes on her back. Nine years since a family that had no obligation to do so had taken in a frightened little girl and simply... decided she belonged. Alicia had never quite figured out how to repay that kindness, so she settled for helping wherever she could. … Such as brushing Emma's hair every morning. A surprisingly important responsibility. She retrieved the flower-engraved brush from the nearby table.

Using any other brush inevitably resulted in complaints. Then she sat behind Emma and began working through the tangled mess. Emma immediately resumed talking. Not speaking. Talking. An endless stream of stories, questions, observations, and entirely unrelated thoughts. Alicia responded only occasionally. A word here. A sentence there. Emma remained completely undeterred. Years of experience had taught her that silence wasn't rejection. It was simply Alicia. The brush moved steadily through her hair.

Carefully and gently. Whenever it snagged, Alicia patiently worked the knot loose rather than pulling. Emma, meanwhile, possessed approximately the same amount of restraint as a squirrel after consuming several cups of coffee.

"Hold still, Emma."

"I am holding still."

"No, you're not."

"Yes I am." Alicia sighed. Emma wasn't holding still. She never did. After approximately ten minutes of fierce combat, it was done. The bedhead had been defeated. Emma's hair was neatly brushed, carefully styled, and secured with her favorite flower-shaped clip. The victory was absolute. Emma immediately rushed to the mirror, still talking. She had somehow maintained a continuous conversation throughout the entire process despite Alicia contributing less than twenty words.

After a few moments of inspection, she beamed.

"Thanks!" Alicia allowed herself a small smile.

"You're welcome." Morning ritual complete, they left the room together. Emma skipped slightly ahead, drawn forward by the increasingly powerful scent drifting from the dining room. Eggs, potatoes, and carrots. Simple food. Excellent food when cooked by someone who knew what they were doing. Alicia found herself quickening her pace ever so slightly. Emma wasn't the only one interested in breakfast. They rounded the corner into the main room just as their mother turned away from the stove.

Her Perception wasn't particularly impressive, but it was more than enough to hear the approaching footsteps.

"Ah, good morning, dears." She smiled warmly.

"Food will be ready in a minute. Set the table, would you?" Emma groaned dramatically.

"Why do we always have to do the table?"

"Because," their mother replied without turning around, "I made the food." Emma opened her mouth. Paused. Then sighed heavily. Defeated. Alicia hid a smile as they moved toward the cabinet and retrieved wooden plates, forks, and cups. A routine repeated hundreds of times. A comfortingly familiar one. As they worked, Alicia heard the distinct sound of a door opening down the hallway. A few moments later, their father stumbled into the room. His eyes were dull, and his posture slouched.

His hair, meanwhile, looked only marginally better than Emma's had. Alicia immediately crossed the room, retrieved a cup of coffee, and placed it in front of his chair. He sat down with the practiced exhaustion of a man fighting a losing battle against consciousness.

"Thanks." Alicia nodded. Another routine. Her father was not a morning person. It generally required two cups of coffee and at least an hour before he became capable of making important life decisions. Speaking of routines— A soft knock sounded at the front door. Perfect timing. Their mother didn't even look up from the stove.

"Right on time. Alicia, would you get the door for Martha, dear?"

"Of course." Alicia crossed the house quickly and opened the door. Standing outside was Martha. The village baker. The elderly woman carried a woven basket nearly overflowing with fresh bread, her hands perpetually dusted with flour no matter the time of day. Alicia took the basket from her before she could protest.

"Why thank you, darling." Martha stepped inside.

"Awfully chilly this morning, isn't it?" Alicia nodded. Martha didn't seem surprised by the brevity of the response. Nobody ever was. The village was tiny, a few hundred people at most. Mostly farmers and craftsmen. Families living comfortably beyond the notice of larger powers. Everyone knew everyone. Everyone had for years. It reminded Alicia of home. Her first home. The thought struck harder than expected. Fire. Smoke. Screams that never stopped. Bandits tearing through the village with effortless cruelty.

Her parents—"You're too skinny, Alicia." Alicia blinked. The memory vanished instantly. Martha was peering at her with narrowed eyes.

"I'm not."

"That's exactly what a skinny girl says." Alicia glanced down at herself, then back at Martha.

"I am not skinny."

"Mmm." The old woman nodded sagely.

"Very convincing."

"I wasn't attempting to be convincing."

"Mmm." Alicia frowned slightly. Martha patted her shoulder.

"Come now, darling. Let's get some food in you before a strong breeze carries you away." Alicia followed Martha into the kitchen, bread basket in hand. The elderly woman immediately wrapped Eleanor in a hug. Alicia used the opportunity to distribute the still-warm loaves onto the waiting plates. Emma immediately reached for one. Alicia intercepted her hand with a single finger. The battle lasted several seconds. Emma eventually retreated, defeated and pouting. Alicia ignored it.

Behind her, Eleanor finally escaped Martha's embrace. Alicia had noticed that older people seemed to enjoy hugging significantly more than younger people. An interesting phenomenon. Her mother smiled.

"Should I have the children set a place for you?" Martha waved a hand dismissively.

"I've got a few more deliveries to make this morning, so not today. Sorry, Eleanor."

"No need to apologize." Eleanor smiled warmly.

"You know you're welcome here whenever you like. I'll cook up something to warm your bones." She turned toward Alicia.

"Alicia, dear, could you get Martha her payment?" Alicia nodded. She crossed the room and retrieved three copper coins from the family's small lockbox before placing them into Martha's waiting hand. Mostly a formality. Money wasn't particularly useful in a village this small. Outside of the occasional merchant caravan, coin mostly existed for trips to neighboring villages. Villages that similarly had very little use for coin. Martha thanked her and turned toward the door. Alicia's Intuition trait pulsed. Strongly.

She froze and turned toward the window. A wooden crow stood outside. Its carved eyes stared lifelessly through the glass while green magic flowed through the joints of its wings and legs. The witch's construct. Martha noticed it a second later.

"The witch's messenger?" Her expression grew serious.

"If it's arriving this early, something happened." Alicia nodded. She crossed the room immediately and pushed the window open. A rolled piece of paper had been secured to the construct's leg. She removed it and read the message quickly. Everyone watched her, waiting. Alicia let out a small sigh.

"I apologize." She folded the note.

"I believe I will need to eat breakfast later." The mood in the room shifted instantly. Even Thomas looked more awake.

"Emergency?" Alicia nodded.

"One of the witch's scouts located a monster."

"What kind?"

"Direfang Hound." She paused briefly.

"Strong." That was enough explanation. The monster had to be intercepted before it reached the village, and Alicia was the only person who could do so safely. The strongest in the village. The witch's former apprentice. The only person nearby with both the level and power necessary to deal with threats of that caliber. It was simply understood that if something dangerous appeared Alicia handled it. Her Intuition pulsed again. Sharper this time. Urgent and extremely dangerous.

Something would undoubtedly go wrong if she delayed. Her trait rarely spoke clearly. It didn't need to. She was already moving. Support the author by searching for the original publication of this novel. Alicia grabbed the roll from her plate and began eating quickly. At least some food was required. Beside her, Thomas quietly picked up his own untouched piece of bread and placed it on her plate. She blinked.

"I'll be here heroically sacrificing myself to eggs and potatoes." He gestured toward the table.

"So you can have my bread." Alicia stared at him for a second before nodding.

"Thanks."

"Anytime." Warmth settled in her chest. A familiar one. She finished eating beneath the worried gazes of her family before changing into clothing better suited for running through the forest. She grabbed her staff, a pair of boots, and her cloak. Prepared. She was halfway to the door when something tugged lightly on her sleeve. Emma. Alicia looked down. The little girl was trying very hard to appear brave. She wasn't succeeding.

"Be careful, okay?" Alicia nodded immediately.

"I will." Emma hesitated, then shifted from foot to foot.

"Can you... do the thing before you leave?" Alicia smiled. Only a little.

"Of course." She stretched out a hand. and soft green light gathered across her palm. Vines unfurled. Leaves followed. A moment later, a beautiful white flower bloomed in her hand, its petals opening gracefully toward the morning light. Emma accepted it with both hands, as though it were something precious. Her worry vanished instantly.

"Thanks!" Alicia nodded. Then, with her family's eyes following her all the way to the door, she stepped outside and headed for the forest. The village was already awake. Morning light spilled across the dirt roads, catching on thatched rooftops and weathered fences. People moved through familiar routines. Farmers preparing tools, merchants opening stalls, children darting between buildings with seemingly unlimited energy. A normal morning.

"Morning, Alicia." She nodded to the older man carrying a bundle of tools over his shoulder.

"Morning."

"You're heading out early."

"Monster." His expression tightened.

"Close?"

"Too close." Walter frowned.

"Be careful." Alicia nodded once.

"I will." She continued down the road. A child sprinted past her a few moments later, nearly tripping over his own feet before somehow recovering. He grinned.

"Bring back something cool!" Alicia paused.

"... I'll see what I can do." The child cheered and continued running. Alicia watched him go for a brief moment, before turning towards the forest and moving forward. Intuition pulsed. Harder. Her pace increased immediately. If something was wrong, then she needed to move faster. She broke into a run. Branches blurred past her. Roots and uneven terrain barely registered beneath her feet as she weaved through the forest.

Years of practice and a heavily enhanced body allowed her to move at speeds that would have been impossible for an ordinary person. Ahead of her, one of the witch's constructs flew silently between the trees, guiding her. The witch was terrible at direct combat. Her scouting, however, was unmatched. Alicia trusted her eyes more than her own. Minutes passed. Then she smelled blood. Fresh. Her grip tightened around her staff. A clearing appeared ahead, and in its center— A Direfang Hound.

The creature crouched over the corpse of a boar, tearing through flesh with methodical efficiency. It was wrong. Too large and too lean. Its limbs seemed slightly too long for its body, its proportions just subtly incorrect. Unnatural. Potentially a mutation. Alicia's Intuition pulsed again. Her eyes narrowed. It shouldn't be doing that. The threat was in front of her, so the warning should have stopped. Unless— No. There wasn't time. The hound would notice her in seconds.

She raised her staff, and green light gathered at its tip.

"Nature's Embrace." The hound's head snapped toward her. Too late. The earth erupted. Massive roots burst from the ground beneath the monster, coiling around its legs and torso before it could move. The creature attempted to lunge, but the roots tightened as the forest answered her call. It was immediately slammed into the dirt. Alicia advanced and leveled her staff at its skull.

"Leaf Gatling." The green glow sharpened, and she fired. A storm of compressed, blade-like leaves erupted forward, cutting through the air in a tight, focused stream. The barrage struck the creature's head at point-blank range, shredding through fur, bone, and flesh in a single, decisive burst. The hound's head simply ceased to exist. The body twitched once, then went still. Silence returned.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ You have slain Direfang Hound (Level 49 | Tier 1) A slight experience bonus has been awarded for slaying a monster 4 levels above you. Your race has leveled up to level 46 Your class has leveled up to level 46 ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Close to Tier 2. It would have been a problem if left alone long enough to evolve. Intuition pulsed. Even harder. Alicia froze. Her blood ran cold. The monster was dead, but the warning wasn't. Another pulse. Sharper. More urgent.

As if something was screaming at her to move. If this wasn't the source— Her eyes widened.

"Shit." She turned and ran. The construct immediately followed, its orders shifting the moment its original mission concluded. Trees became a blur. The village. She needed to reach the village. Another pulse. Stronger. Alicia pushed herself harder. Please. The construct dropped from the sky. One moment flying, the next falling. It struck the ground with a splintering crack, and the green glow animating it vanished instantly. Alicia looked at it for less than a second. She just kept running.

"No." The word escaped before she could stop it.

"No, no, no, no." Her heartbeat thundered in her ears.

"Please." Her voice cracked.

"Please." Not again. Anything but this. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes as she sprinted toward home. As she ran, something deep within her pulsed. The small presence that had taken root inside her soul when she was eight years old. The seed. It had never left. Alicia ignored it. Mana surged through her body as she ran. The forest bent around her, branches pulling aside and roots shifting beneath the earth to clear her path. Trees blurred past in streaks of green and brown.

As she neared the village, the smell reached her first. Blood. Fresh and heavy. Alicia's grip tightened around her staff. The hunters brought down something large. That had to be it. Everyone was fine. They had to be. There would be a feast tonight. Big catches had to be eaten quickly before they spoiled. She pushed herself harder. Walter would complain. Tell her she worried too much. Tell her she was running herself ragged over nothing. That would be fine. Perfect, even.

As long as they were— Alicia crossed through the village gate, and saw. The world stopped, and the tears came immediately. Bodies littered the village. The familiar dirt roads were stained dark with blood. People lay beside homes, against fences, in gardens they had tended only hours ago. Some looked as though they had been cut down where they stood. Others had clearly tried to run. Many hadn't made it far. The smell was everywhere. Blood. Burned wood. Burned flesh. Smoke. Alicia stumbled forward.

Walter lay near the gate. The old farmer still gripped his tool tightly enough that his knuckles had gone white. He had died fighting with a farming implement in his hands. The seed cracked. Alicia's gaze shifted. The witch. Her teacher. She lay face down in the dirt, surrounded by shattered fragments of wooden constructs. Burn marks blackened the ground around her, and the body itself had been damaged so severely that Alicia only recognized her because of the staff still clenched in one hand.

The seed cracked again. Behind them were children. Small bodies, protected until the end. Walter. The witch. They had died defending them. Alicia reached out. Her hand trembled, then stopped halfway. The tears continued falling, and the village around her blurred. The baker's shop. The well. The homes she had walked past every day for years. All of it felt distant. Unreal, like she was looking at somebody else's life. The seed pulsed, and another crack spread across its surface.

Alicia's eyes drifted from body to body. People she knew. People who had watched her grow up, and people who had fed her. People who had accepted a frightened orphan girl without asking for anything in return. Gone. All of them gone. The seed cracked once more. Alicia took a step forward. Then another. Her movement was mechanical, almost automatic. There would be time for grief later. There had to be survivors. Someone could still be alive. Someone had to be.

So she kept moving through the ruined village, tears running silently down her face as she searched for anyone she could still save. There was nobody. No cries for help. No voices. No movement. Just silence, cold and empty. Alicia kept moving, house after house, street after street. Everywhere she looked, there was only death. Eventually, she found Martha. The old woman had been heading toward another home, basket still clutched in one hand.

Several loaves of bread had spilled across the ground, scattered through the dirt as though she had simply dropped them and forgotten to pick them back up. The kind woman who greeted Alicia almost every morning. The one who insisted she was too skinny. Who somehow always managed to slip extra bread to her. Now she lay crumpled against a wooden fence, her head missing. The grass around her was stained a dull, drying red. Something inside Alicia twisted violently. The seed fractured.

A long crack split down its length. Alicia couldn't stop. Couldn't kneel beside her. Couldn't even grieve. Not yet. There might still be survivors. There had to be. She ran faster. Past homes. Past bodies. Past memories. Towards the place she called home. They would be waiting for her. Hidden. Injured, perhaps, and almost certainly scared. But alive. They would cry together, as a family. Alicia rounded the corner, and her world ended. The seed fractured again.

Cracks raced across its surface, crimson light spilling from the gaps. They had tried to run. That was the first thing Alicia noticed. They were outside, clearly having tried to escape. It hadn't mattered. Eleanor lay in the grass. The woman who had tried to teach Alicia how to cook. How to sew. How to smile again. Her body lay several feet away from her severed head, the expression frozen upon it one of pure terror. Thomas wasn't much better.

The burns covering him were so severe that Alicia almost didn't recognize him. The man who needed two cups of coffee before he could function. The man who always saved the largest portions for everyone else. The man who had given her his bread less than an hour ago. And then— Emma. Alicia moved. One moment standing, the next kneeling beside her little sister. Green mana flooded her hands immediately, and nature magic surged forward. Healing. Restoration. Life. Anything and everything.

The wound was catastrophic, a blade having pierced completely through her small body. It looked impossibly large on the tiny Emma. She couldn't—"Please." Mana poured from Alicia's hands.

"Please, please, please." Nature was life-adjacent. Nature healed. Nature could restore. It could fix things. So fix this. Fix her. Seconds passed. Then minutes. Nothing happened. Emma's eyes remained fixed on the sky above, glassy and empty. Gone. Alicia's hands slowly fell into her lap. And she broke. The sob that escaped her was ugly and raw. The sound of something tearing apart. Tears streamed down her face as grief crashed into her all at once, drowning every coherent thought beneath it.

She reached for Emma's hand. Then stopped. Something was clutched inside it. A flower. A simple white flower. The one Alicia had created that morning before leaving. The one Emma had accepted like it was the most precious thing in the world. Its white petals were stained crimson. The seed shattered completely. A moment later— It bloomed. A flower of pure crimson unfolded within Alicia's soul. Its petals were sharp. Beautiful. Terrible. Alicia rose.

The movement felt distant and mechanical, like she was watching somebody else move her body. The tears continued. They never stopped. She looked down. Footprints. Deep impressions in the soil, heavy and armored. Everything about the attack had been efficient. Fast. Precise. The cuts were too clean. The burns too uniform. These weren't bandits. They were something worse. Alicia took a step forward. Then another. Because she didn't know what else to do. The grief remained. But it changed. It began to sharpen.

Refine itself. First into anger, then into rage. And as Alicia followed the trail leading away from her village— It sharpened one final time. Into Wrath. She walked. Then she ran. Then she stopped noticing the difference. The footprints were all that remained of her world. Deep impressions left by armored boots. A trail. A direction. A purpose. Alicia followed it. Eventually— She found them. Knights. White and gold armor gleamed beneath the morning sun, polished to a mirror shine.

Their weapons remained drawn, but their posture was relaxed. Some stood talking amongst themselves. Others checked equipment or cleaned blood from their blades. Unhurried and unconcerned. As though nothing of importance had happened. As though an entire village had not been erased by their hand less than an hour ago.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Daybreak Knight [Rare] (Level 62 | Tier 2) Race: Human ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Daybreak Knight [Rare] (Level 59 | Tier 2) Race: Human ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Daybreak Knight [Rare] (Level 55 | Tier 2) Race: Human ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ More filled her vision. A dozen. Then more. Every single one Tier 2. Every single one stronger than her. Against a village like hers, there had never been a battle.

Never a struggle. Never even a risk. It had simply been a decision. Alicia's grip tightened around her staff. Questions surfaced briefly. Why? Why here? Why them? Why Emma? Why— The thoughts passed. The answers didn't matter. Not anymore. There was only one thing that mattered. They were still alive. That was unacceptable. Alicia raised her staff. The nearest knight turned. Then another. Recognition flashed across their faces. Confusion, then surprise. Too late. Alicia attacked, and the world answered.

Roots erupted from the earth in violent surges. Vines lashed outward with enough force to crack stone. Thousands of razor-edged leaves filled the air in a sweeping storm while grass sharpened and rose beneath their feet, transforming the ground itself into a field of blades. Two knights died instantly. One was dragged screaming beneath the earth. The other disappeared beneath a wave of roots that crushed armor, flesh, and bone together. For a fleeting moment— Alicia felt nothing. No satisfaction. No relief.

Just the certainty that it wasn't enough. The knights recovered immediately. Steel met wood. Solar fire met green. Their formation tightened. Blades ignited with brilliant golden flame as they carved through everything Alicia summoned. Roots blackened and split apart. Vines burned to ash. Leaves disintegrated before reaching their targets. They advanced. Alicia retreated. Another root caught a knight's leg, and a volley of razor-sharp leaves followed.

Blood sprayed, the knight staggered, but managed to remain standing. Too durable. Too strong. Alicia didn't care. A knight stepped forward, straight into a trap. Thorns burst from beneath the soil, embedding themselves into the gaps of his armor. A wooden lance followed immediately. One of his comrades intercepted it with a burning blade. Nature's Embrace activated, and the embedded thorns erupted into roots. The knight screamed, then vanished beneath a mass of twisting wood. Another dead. Still not enough.

The formation continued forward, step by step. Steady and unstoppable. Alicia's mana dropped. Her breathing became ragged. The distance started to shrink, and she couldn't stop it. Not against this many. Not alone against a full squad of Tier 2 combatants. One of them suddenly broke formation. Fast. Far too fast. Alicia reacted instantly, but was too slow. The blade flashed, and pain exploded through her arm. Her wrist separated cleanly from her body. Her staff slipped from nerveless fingers and struck the ground.

Alicia screamed. The sound tore itself from her throat, but she moved anyway. Her remaining hand rose, and green mana gathered. Nature magic forming instinctively. One final spell. One final attack. The light began to form— And vanished. The second strike came even faster than the first. Steel flashed, and her remaining hand fell into the dirt. Blood sprayed across the grass. Alicia stared. For a brief moment, the battlefield went silent. No staff. No hands. No magic. No family. Nothing.

The crimson flower within her soul pulsed, and for the first time since arriving— Alicia smiled. Not a happy smile. Or even a sane one. The smile of someone who had lost everything. Someone with nothing left to protect. Nothing left to cherish. Nothing left to fear.

"Why?" The word escaped before Alicia could stop it. The knight paused, just slightly.

"Why would you do this?" For the first time, he actually looked at her. Through the narrow slit of his helmet, Alicia could see his eyes. He wasn't angry. Not proud, or even satisfied. His gaze was simply... empty. In that moment, Alicia understood that this meant nothing to him.

"Orders," the knight replied calmly.

"Consider yourselves unfortunate. Your village was selected to test the loyalty of his knights." Alicia stared. A test. That was all. The reason Walter was dead. The reason Martha would never bring bread again. The reason her teacher lay burned in the dirt. The reason Emma's flower was stained red. A test. Convenience. A demonstration. The knight moved. His sword thrust forward. There was no strength left in Alicia to stop it, and the blade pierced her chest cleanly.

Steel punched through flesh and bone alike before emerging from her back, anchoring her in place. Alicia gasped, and the world immediately began to fade. Strength left her limbs. Cold spread outward from the wound. The edges of her vision darkened. Her heartbeat slowed. Then slowed again. And yet— The flower remained. A system window appeared. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ You have died. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Alicia blinked. She was dead, and yet somehow, she remained.

The sensation of her body was distant and muted, like hearing a conversation through a wall. But it was still there. She could still think. Still feel. Still hate. The storm of grief and rage inside her collapsed inward. Refining itself once more. Condensing and becoming something sharper.

"Orders."

"His knights." The words echoed through her thoughts. Someone had given those orders. Someone had decided that her family should die. Emma. Thomas. Eleanor. Walter. Martha. The witch. Every child. Every friend. Every person she had ever loved. Someone had chosen this. Did they deserve to live? A second crimson flower bloomed beside the first. Could they truly be allowed to continue? Another flower. Could a handful of dead knights possibly balance the scales? Another. And another. And another.

The flowers spread across her soul like wildfire. No. No. Alicia would not accept it. She would find them. She would hunt them. She would kill them. The realization settled over her with absolute certainty. Nature. Life. Growth. Healing. The magic she had spent years learning. Magic that the witch had taught her. The one she had devoted her life to mastering. It wasn't enough. It couldn't bring Emma back. Couldn't save her family. Couldn't undo what had happened. So it was in the way. Life was unnecessary.

All Alicia needed now— Was a magic meant to kill. The final flower bloomed, and the field completed. Alicia opened her eyes. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ You have embraced what you are. You have gained the traits: [Wrath] [Living Calamity] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Revival Complete. You have risen from the dead. Race Updated: Wight Racial Skills Reacquired. Aspect Mutation Detected. New Aspect: Decay Class Mutation Detected. Class Skills Updated.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Wrath has been activated. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The knight was already turning away, as if the matter was settled. As if she were dead. Alicia stood. The sword slid free from her chest as flesh knitted itself back together. Bone reformed. Blood flowed backward through veins that had ceased to function moments ago. Her severed wrists regenerated seamlessly, fingers flexing once as sensation returned. There was no pain. Not from the wound.

Not from the missing hands. Nothing. Her eyes burned a deep crimson, the faint pattern of a blooming flower etched into her irises. She raised a hand, and the power answered immediately. Grass withered beneath her feet. Wildflowers sagged and turned brown. Leather straps cracked and shriveled. Metal armor creaked, and flesh began to decay. The knights turned. Shock flashed across their faces. Alicia's class skills activated instinctively. A Decay Lance formed in her palm. No longer nature.

A spear composed entirely of endings. It crossed the distance instantly. The knight who had killed her never reacted. His armor corroded where it stood, rust spreading across polished steel in a matter of heartbeats. Flesh sagged. Bone darkened. Then he collapsed into an inert heap of rotten meat before he even struck the ground. The others reacted immediately. Solar fire erupted from enchanted blades, brilliant golden flames illuminating the trail.

Then the decay reached them, and the fire dimmed, weakening rapidly as though reality itself had simply forgotten how to sustain it. Alicia stretched out her hand. Nature's Embrace activated. Only there was no nature left within it. Tendrils of pure decay erupted from the ground, wrapping around a knight and his armor alike. Steel blackened. Flesh followed. The man died screaming as the decay consumed him. Alicia stepped forward. Leaf Gatling activated.

The leaves produced were dead, the previously vibrant green now withered and brittle. Every impact spread rot. Armor blackened. Skin sloughed away. Muscle failed. The formless decay hanging in the air intensified. One knight fell. Then another. And another. Bodies collapsed across the trail, only to continue decaying after death. Armor became rust. Rust became dust. Dust became nothing. The grass vanished. The soil failed. Even the stones began crumbling apart. Everything touched by the decay simply ceased.

System messages flooded Alicia's vision. Levels. Advancements. Evolution. She ignored all of them. None of it mattered. Eventually, only one knight remained. The eyes visible behind the visor of this one were not empty at all. Not indifferent like the first. They were afraid. Good.

"P-please..." Alicia tilted her head, and the flower in her eyes glowed brighter. She raised a hand. A Decay Lance crossed the distance. The man collapsed into rotting biomass. Silence returned, and a new notification appeared. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Special Title Conditions Fulfilled: Slay Ten Higher-Tier Enemies. Slay Five Hated Enemies. Title Acquired: [Avenger] [Wrath] has taken notice. Title Evolution in Progress. [Avenger] has been transformed.

New Title Acquired: [Witch of Retribution] ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Alicia read it, then dismissed it. A single thought remained. Cold, clear, and certain. Whoever you are, I will find you, a nd I will kill you. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Wrath has been deactivated. ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ The pain returned the instant Wrath faded, and her legs nearly gave out beneath her. Nearly. Alicia remained standing. Her chest hurt. Her hands hurt. Everything hurt. She ignored it and began walking. Towards home.

The journey felt longer than before. Every step heavier. Every breath harder. The village greeted her in silence. The bodies hurt more than the wounds. She had expected that. It didn't help. Eventually, she reached her home. Nothing had changed. Thomas remained where he had fallen. Eleanor still lay in the grass. Emma still clutched the flower Alicia had given her that morning. Its white petals were stained crimson. Alicia knelt beside her little sister. The rage was gone. Only grief remained. She wanted to cry.

Needed to cry. She tried, but nothing came. No tears. No sobs. Nothing. Only a hollow emptiness where they should have been.

"The dead can't cry, then?" Her voice sounded small, and very, very tired. Alicia lowered herself beside Emma.

"You can't even let me cry for my family?" No answer came. There was only silence. Her heart felt as though it was being torn apart. Slowly. Methodically. Alicia stretched out a trembling hand.

"I won't leave you like this." The decay answered. It spread from her fingertips slowly at first, almost gently. Grass withered into gray dust. Blood vanished from the soil. Wooden walls darkened, cracked, and collapsed inward. Homes that had stood for decades crumbled away in moments. Thomas disappeared. Then Eleanor. Then Emma. Alicia clenched her jaw hard enough that it hurt.

"I love you." The words barely escaped her lips. The decay continued spreading. Across roads. Across gardens. Across fences. Across every place where laughter had once existed. It devoured the village that had taken in a frightened orphan girl and simply decided she belonged, until nothing remained. The blood-stained flower vanished last. On that day, a village vanished without a trace, leaving behind nothing but a barren patch of lifeless earth beneath a silent sky.