The sound of desperate and violent screams wakes me, breath filling my lungs for what feels like the first time as the air stings its way down my throat, heavy with the taste of metal. I cough a few times, feeling warm liquid splash into my hand as I roll over on the stomped dirt and cover my mouth. “*#%^!@$, rise and return to the fight you useless woman!” I barely hear from the ringing in my ears, my eyes hazily noticing something above me, someone’s shadow, blocking out the rupture of light from an explosion that sends dirt, ash, and what can only be bits of people judging by the wet smacking sound they make when they land into the sky.
I gag involuntarily, the smell of death, ruptured intestines, and the choking weight of the particles in the air threatening to add whatever contents remain in my stomach to the gruesome carnage surrounding me before a pair of masculine hands leap down and grip my battered and torn clothing. “I said, get up! This battle is far from lost and your masters demand you continue until your pathetic life has served its purpose! Pick up your weapon and get back on the front lines!”
The man, tanned skin under nearly equally disheveled and dirtied robes sneers to me hatred blatant and disdain dripping from his gruff and malicious voice with a severe face. I stand on wobbly legs, the weight of my own body nearly enough to threaten their function, before I turn to where he jabs a finger in the dirt, grim realization settling on me from his words and what he is asking me, a peak 2nd Ranked soul cultivator, to do. To continue fighting a pointless war, one that my captors started, only occurring because their leader felt slighted when a woman refused his advances. Never mind that she was a prominent Sect Leader of a continental powerhouse, in his eyes all that mattered was she told him the one thing no one dared ever say to him: No.
So the grotesque and gruesome man retreated with his entourage of slaves and sycophants, gathering the rest of his disparate and world spanning forces until they amassed enough weight – so they thought – to topple the arrogant woman and make her his. After he let his subordinates have fun, of course. A furious frown creases my face, memories of my own torment brought to mind as these sad excuses for humans tried their best to do that exact same thing to me. To break my will through violence. Physical, emotional, and sexual. But they never succeeded, eventually throwing me to the lowest echelons of their pitiful organization since ‘she still has some skill with that damn scythe of hers’. Better to be used as expendable muscle than being rid of me, it seems. Content to keep me starved and desperate, used as a toy, in lieu of shackling any chains to my neck.
Another explosion erupts on the other side of the makeshift trench we are hunkered down in, throwing both of us to the ground from the aftershocks. He, and I refused to ever commit any of my captors’ names to memory, lands face down a few feet away from me while I land perfectly in reach of my saving grace. My scythe. One that my father taught me to use, seeing as how we were poorly farmers in a small hamlet and couldn’t afford any other means to defend ourselves from beasts. If only I knew that term would eventually include the monsters that came with whip and chain instead of claw and fur.
I grab the gnarled wooden pole, still sturdy and steadfast despite the abuse this battle – and others – have put upon it, its silvery curved blade at the tip careening down to a vicious point as I hear the monster prone beside me wail in agony. I look back up, seeing him missing a couple limbs and half of his face after that last volley, as a hand with a ring on it sits well out of reach for his last remaining digits. His gurgling cries reaching my thumping ears as my blood begins to boil with possibility.
“Agh! Fuck! You, %(!@$^%, get my ring and give it to me, now!” Another wail breaks his speech as his single armed, single legged body writhes on the ground in agony. I turn my head to inspect the trench, seeing that in all the chaos outside the pitiful attempt at defense the two of us are now fully alone. Just two survivors amidst a sea of death. I whip back towards his cruel face, my raven black hair lined with streaks of white from past shock sticking wetly to my skin as I take slow, deliberate steps towards my downed prey.
With sudden realization, his remaining eye goes wide, his orders turning to pleas. The desperation now coating his ugly and ripped throat sending shivers of satisfaction and pleasure down my spine as I spin the wicked tool in my hands on my approach. “H-Hey! Listen! I always treated you right, right? I didn’t lay hands on you, either before or after we’d fuck, and I always made sure to give you extra bread rations when it was my turn to give you all food!!”
The sneer on my face turns from delight to fury as the fool thinks he can talk his way from my vengeance now, that brining up such awful and evil acts while trying to hide them behind the flimsy vernier of fake generosity will make me come to his aid. I am fortunate that they never saw fit to place a bonded seal on me, or to attempt any kind of soul manipulation like they would do to those that were too powerful, that they could not control outright. Because now the failure of a man is staring at his death. And he knows it.
Seeing that words will not avail him, he gathers Qi in his remaining palm and starts to chant a technique, but between the blood loss, pain, and fear… I am faster.
“[Darkness Vol– Guh…” He blurts out in a gout of blood, my body moving with all the strength and speed I can muster as I sink the multi-foot long curved blade coated in a white sheen directly into his chest, heaving my breath in the effort it took to pierce his skin and break into his dantian with my own skill. The soul energy manifests fully on the blade’s edge as I greedily gulp the air that is now forbidden to him, my heart singing in delight at the pain and misery robbing him of his last moments of sanity and life.
With a sneer of retribution, I plainly state out the last piece of the puzzle that spells the end to such a worthless and wretched individual.
“[Reap]“
In a flash of pure white, the chest cavity of the man is disintegrated, his face slack and remaining limbs limp on the ground. Yet my anger does not abate. I take a moment to gather his storage ring, and any effects of my own that may have been scattered or strewn from the violence of the day, before setting my sights further down the trench line, the faint voices of command and struggle filling my head with purpose.
Like the silent specter of death, I wheel and encroach on the remaining leadership in this area, using moments of confusion or opportunity to silence their woeful barking once and for all, freeing those I can and killing those who resist. Sadly, some portion of my fellow slaves belong to that latter faction, mind bound and soul anchored to their masters. We put them down all the same, lacking the time or skill to undo their curse, and their pleading for death as they struggle against its corruptive effects will surely haunt me for the rest of my days.
By the time the sun has set, my scythe is covered with the entrails of an untold number of victims, its dark wood now sticky to the touch from the near constant splattering of blood as I waged and won my own personal war. Memories of battle fill my mind as I rest on a crate, a freed friend coming to hand me a waterskin before attending to someone else. The twirl of the wood, the hook of the blade under a leg before it is ripped from its mooring, the whistle and sing of its metal before removing head from shoulder. Countless times the scenes replay, and countless times I revel in seeing those who have hurt and entrapped me, robbed me of family, home, and hearth, fall to my efforts.
I fail to notice that the lingering sounds of battle have ceased, and that all amongst my small entourage have gone deathly silent in my ruminations. Curious, I raise my head up from the ground, my eyes going wide as I see multiple unknown figures standing on the edge of the trench above us being led by one person to the front. A woman, dressed in a pristine and prim golden white robe.
“I had heard reports,” She begins, arms crossed and gaze weighty as she inspects each of us in rapid succession with her honeyed eyes, her long flowing brown hair dancing behind her in the soot soaked wind, “That there was a slave uprising in the midst of our Sect Leader’s battle with that foolish slave master Terimon the Cruel a league away. I surmise that you assembled here in this pit are the reason for such reports?”
The group turns to look at me, all of us who can move already having jumped to a prostrating stance from the softly spoken power this person carries. I stand shakily, using my scythe as a crutch as I attempt my best deferential bow. “It is as you say, senior. I was the first of us to break the shackle, and I expressed my unkind thoughts on the matter of our incarceration in general to the remaining loyalists in these forsaken trenches. These men and women before you are all that remain, as we could not save those who had been marked or bonded.”
“Hmm.” I hear in response, her voice sounding much closer than before as I hold the bow, my eyes going wide as a wave of soothing healing light restores us from the aches and pains of battle. Footsteps approach me before stopping an arm’s length away, the smooth and dulcet tone of this seeming ally sounding out with much more kindness than before as she says, “Rise, all of you. You have done well to lead and fight against such tyranny. I will ease your discomfort further, Terimon is dead by the Sect Leader’s hands, and she has decreed that any surviving slaves are to be rescued and given aid to begin a new life, one free of collars and chains. My name is Raphiel, and I shall lead you to our lands where you can stay or set upon your own path from there, if you so wish. If you need further healing, let me know before we depart.”
I raise my head as asked to see the most gorgeous face I have ever born witness to staring back at me in greater clarity, sunlight dripping through the beautiful amber waves of hair. She gently smiles, her rosy lips tilting upwards as she seems to also take me in for the first time. While my comrades stand and gather to be aided by these new arrivals, Raphiel extends her hand to me, shaking me out of my speechless state with her heavenly words. “I would very much like to know your name, if you would be so kind as to offer it to a stranger?” The beating of both our hearts are surely loud enough for the Heaven’s to hear, and with a mouth suddenly drier than a riverbed during summer and some unknown pull on my soul towards her, I take her hand in mine and reply with an awe-struck whisper of a voice, “My name is-“
I gasp as I lunge forward, eyes snapping open with my heart in my throat. What the fuck was that?! Before I can even start sorting through what I just experienced and wonder why I’m back in my old room, I hear the voice of Samantha sound out from the side of the bed where I’m resting.
“Thank Heavens…” She says in relief as I crane my head over to the noise, seeing her sitting in one of the chairs at the round table as she sets a book down and stands up to make her way over to me. She sits down on an empty spot on the bed, one hand coming to rest on top of my forehead before she softly says out with concern, “You’ve been asleep for nearly three hours, some kind of event taking you once you gripped the scythe based [Mercurial Weapon]. I have many questions, but firstly, how are you faring little pup?”
I sigh into the comfort of her warm skin on mine, my mind weary and still processing the sudden change of events that led us here. “I-I’m okay, I think. When I grabbed the scythe, the system just started forcing information into my brain directly, about how to use it and stuff. It also hurt like a bitch, and it gave me a title that is a little… ominous… but I guess I must have passed out before I could say anything.” Sam gives a concerned look down to me, a light frown on her face but aside from that she hides it well. Still giving me the space to speak, I follow up with, “When I was asleep, I had some kind of… vision or memory. It’s happened a couple times before, but they’ve always been related to Sandra. This time was different though; I was someone else entirely. Someone who used a scythe and basically led a bloody and violent slave revolt in the middle of a war.
I think…” I pause as I swallow nervously, “I think it was a memory from the Empress – when she was still a mortal – and that the system used my past life to give me the knowledge of using a scythe.” I take her hand off my head and give it a small kiss on the back of it, turning to the comms box in the corner of the room. “Ios, what do you think?”
The box springs to life, Ios carrying an equally worried face as Samantha while dressing in a full ass lab getup, complete with thick safety goggles resting on her tied back hair. I deadpan to her as she just shrugs, giving me a little smile before regaining her seriousness, “What~? I think the outfit is fitting~. *Sigh* Honestly honey, that may have been what happened. Those hidden quests are very hard to see from my side, even less so for one that looks like it was…” She stops as she bites her lip, looking like she’s debating even saying whatever is on her mind next. She finally comes to a decision though, as she moves over next to Sam and carefully says out, “I think that quest was made by the Empress. I checked the background data on it while Samantha carried you back and you were resting, and I don’t see any sign of Ilya’s handiwork on the quest, title, or rewards in general. I didn’t know that was possible, but it’s the only thing that makes sense.”
“W-what??” I say out in shock, my mind spinning as I wrestle with the significance of what that means. “B… But… she said she wanted me to choose my own path, right? Why would she railroad me so hard like that and then show me something so gory and visceral to teach me how to twirl a freaking stick?!” Samantha’s hand once more comes to rest on my shoulder, giving me a calming squeeze before turning back to Ios, signaling her to answer my probably unanswerable questions.
“I don’t know, honey. Beings like her are vast and ethereal, similar to what Ilya and I are when we are back in our birth dimension. Their methods can be vague and difficult to grasp, even when stated plainly. Maybe she was trying to prepare you further for the violent nature of the universe you’re in, maybe she had some hidden meaning to showing you that, or maybe she just chose the best memory to give you the knowledge she wanted you to have. Hell, maybe all three of those reasons and more! I agree that it is odd that she has so frequently stated she wants you to be on your own journey but then does something like this. However, all we can do is sit here and speculate ourselves into worry until we – or rather you – get some kind of answer from her, provided she gives it.”
Silence follows Ios’ theory crafting session, all three of us stuck in a quagmire of what to say or do next. On my side of things, I have to try and keep my emotions in check at yet another fucking twist of fate thrown my way, staring up at the ceiling as I take a deep breath and then close my eyes. It honestly seems like the only time I truly get any peace is when I’m in a coma recovering from some catastrophic event, or when I’m having sex! Well, at the very least any time I’m not actively trying to better myself or my cultivation. Which really seems like a fucked up way to try and encourage me to actually get stronger! Seriously, if it wasn’t for my need to get Sandra back and my Berserker lust at seeing numbers go up, I don’t even know if I would commit to this anymore…
Samantha eventually breaks the tension that was slowly settling in the empty void of broken conversation, her hand coming to hold mine as she muses, “The Mistress and the others should be back at the estate before too long, likely within a couple of hours. Why don’t you see if you can commune with the Empress? Spirit Ios mentioned that you have that ability, perhaps she will impart on you her reasoning, or at least explain a portion of it, as to why she sent you such visions and made such a blatant revision in your system? I can reside here while you meditate and be here when you wake.”
I hum as I sit up, folding my hands in my lap as I stare down at them for a few moments. Eventually, I raise my face back up toward Sam and Ios and respond resolutely, “I want to try and see if I can’t work some of it out on my own first. I’m getting tired of always playing catch up to stuff like this, needing someone to explain it to me instead of just sitting with it for a while and trying to learn what it means with my own understanding. It’s frustrating as shit to always feel like any time I make progress, something crazy happens that shakes my convictions or destroys my worldview… ” I pause as I shake my head a few times, banishing the errant thoughts to get back to the point I’m trying to make, “*Sigh* If I end up speaking with her before then, I’ll probably still ask, but I don’t want to come crawling over to her just yet.”
I look back down to my hands, curling them in fists as I feel the weight of conviction starting to churn inside of me. With a still firm voice, I continue on, “She must have manipulated the system and shown me that memory for a reason, and as much as this constant mind-shattering shit isn’t fun to deal with, I need to grow up and stand on my own two feet. Otherwise, I’ll never be able to help Sandra properly, not when it comes to this kind of thing. And I have a sneaking suspicion that she’s going to have just as much bullshittery thrown at her as I’ve been getting…”
I bring my gaze back up to see Samantha looking at me with unrestrained pride, her smile wide and full as she simply nods her head in response. Ios, on the other hand, looks about ready to say, ‘fuck it’ and buy a body right then and there so that she can hug tackle me in the real world~. Her eyes literally sparkle with proud emotions, all four of her hands clasped together in front of her chest as she bounces on her tip toes, twirling a couple times in glee before I actually feel her impact my soul avatar with the afore-prophesized hug~.
“I’m so proud of you sweetheart~!” She says inside my soul space as well as out loud, voice full of glee and hope, “This is a huge step for you, not that anyone would blame you for seeking answers that you deserve! But truly, this is a major milestone to becoming a real cultivator, and a more complete person in general! To spend time with the information at your disposal and come to your own conclusions about it, to comprehend the things that are shown to you even if it takes months or years to fully grasp it. I love you, honey~!”
My cheeks feel a little flick of heat at her words, roaring to a fire as I feel her kiss my soul avatar right where the blush is forming. I chuckle, shaking my head as I move to kick my feet out from under the covers. Samantha stands up in a fluid and graceful motion, offering a hand which I take to bring me back to standing. “Well, Sam.” I say as I stretch my arms and legs before turning back to her with a cheeky smile, “Sounds like we have time to get in a little more practice. Want to go back to the simulation and see what all I ‘learned’ with the scythe~?”
She chuckles as she gives me a hug, and a small kiss on the lips which makes my heart twirl, before backing towards the door with our hands interlocked, Ios’ drone fluttering behind us as we make our way back down to the training rooms.
