Five days had passed since I was in that village, and I still couldn't sleep.
Every time I closed my eyes, the scene repeated over and over again—pain, fear, pleasure, disgust, screams. It's not for me to decide what's normal and what isn't, who's right and who's wrong. But I did it anyway.
And it haunts me.
Yet I have to keep moving. If my calculations are correct, I've been traveling for six or seven days now. I still have the same amount left to reach the city.
I remembered what Alisa said: if your rank matches a monster's, the monster has the advantage.
But my case was different.
The creature I fought was careless and couldn't fully use its powers—it was a demon who underestimated me and lacked combat experience—yet it was ranked as Awakened.
Even though I was already weakened back then, I still won.
Still, I noticed I can beat monsters of my own rank, even hold my own briefly against higher-ranked ones. Maybe I'm unique, or maybe it's my weapon mastery. I don't know.
My head spun—not from injury, but exhaustion. I needed sleep. I was drained, stressed, restless—none of it helping me rest.
As I was lost in thought, I saw a carriage.
Four riders surrounded it, positioned like the corners of a square. Armed, armored, disciplined. From the strength I sensed, they were Awakened rank.
Then bandits appeared, surrounding the carriage. Most were Normal rank, but one was Awakened—and strong.
I crept closer to watch. I wasn't sure if I should interfere—it wasn't my business. But if there was an aristocrat or someone powerful inside, and I managed to help—whoever it was—maybe they'd offer me a ride to the city.
They were heading toward the city. I listened carefully.
One guard called out,
"Hey! Let us through! We're escorting important people!"
A bandit sneered,
"You're not going anywhere, any of you. Resistance is useless."
The guard drew his sword from its sheath and said, "This is your last warning."
The bandits laughed. One guard launched an attack, but another guard suddenly stabbed him in the back with his sword.
"What have you done?!" shouted the third guard—but he immediately received the same stab in the back from another guard.
Two guards died, two survived.
I immediately realized what was happening: they had been betrayed. The guards and bandits worked together.
The surviving guards killed the coachman and ordered everyone out of the carriage. At first, there was silence, then suddenly both doors flew open. The guards pulled out two young women, each holding a black hairpin. In a flash, they stabbed each guard holding them in the eye.
The guards screamed, collapsed, blinded and writhing in pain.
I hesitated. Should I step in?
Then I saw the two girls, sitting frozen on the floor, too afraid to move.
Their faces were similar, and their height was the same. Both had slender waists, large breasts, and full, seductive buttocks. Their skin was flawless and snow-white, their dresses aristocratic, and their long, wavy hair — golden for one, silver for the other.
The girl with golden hair had light green eyes, while the one with silver hair had light blue ones.
They didn't stand—not because they couldn't, but because they were terrified. They knew that standing meant death.
The leader of the bandits—an Awakened as powerful as he was cruel—spoke with cold certainty.
"I want each of you to bear me a child."
I was shocked but stayed hidden behind the carriage.
The man introduced himself as Elias Thornwell—future father of their children. He extended his hands, but the girls rejected him.
"We know everything about you," Elias continued, pointing at the girl with silver hair, "Amelie Whitmore, and you," he said, turning to the girl with golden hair, "Isabelle Whitmore."
"You're described as goddesses with perfect bodies, some call you divine, but in truth, you're even more beautiful. You're aristocrats connected to the Church. Both Awakened at sixteen. Each of you is capable of giving birth to a child who will awaken the rank of Saint at sixteen. You're unique in this world."
Elias smiled cruelly. "Your father sold you all. He told us everything. We just paid and found you."
Elias continued, "Why am I telling you this? It's simple—because it won't help you. I'm barely holding back from taking your virginity right here and now. But there are too many eyes around, and I doubt I'll be able to try all the positions I want in a situation like this."
"Be obedient and come with us," Elias said with a sneer.
Isabelle asked, "And if we refuse?"
Elias smirked, "I'll do it here, in front of everyone. Or force you by power. But I'd rather not ruin such pretty faces."
Amelie bowed her head. Isabelle followed.
Then, suddenly, both pulled out red hairpins, pressing them to their throats.
Panic erupted.
"Why weren't they searched?!" Elias demanded.
The guards admitted knowing only about the black hairpins and never suspected there were others.
Elias ordered them to stop, but the girls said they'd rather die than live like this.
Amelie said, "We will only give ourselves to someone worthy—someone who shines brighter than the sun and the stars. If no one like that exists, then so be it."
Elias laughed: "Well, well, keep dreaming."
Bandits rushed them. The girls looked to the sky, tears falling, whispered to each other, "This is our fate."
They pulled back their arms, ready to strike — and just then, I appeared.
I snatched the pins from their hands and struck down every attacker with deadly precision. They screamed in agony before dying.
"Who are you? What are you doing here?" Elias demanded.
"No one," I said calmly. "Just here to kill you and give them a second chance."
I sat before them and asked, "May I carry you in my arms?"
They exchanged surprised looks and nodded.
I carried them back to the carriage. No one stopped me. Fear rooted them in place—they knew if they attacked, they'd die instantly.
I carried the girls inside, told them to close their eyes and cover their ears—they obeyed.
Then I turned back.
"Let's begin."
The bandits charged. I drew my katana and took stance. I unleashed a technique I'd been practicing—Lunar Slash. A blue crescent-shaped arc of light sliced through every attacker.
Only Elias remained.
He watched as the slash cut through the others, not critically wounding them, yet they all lay motionless—completely dead.
He knew he was fortunate to be the farthest from the strike and to have narrowly dodged it.
"Are you going to attack?" I asked.
He screamed, "I will kill you!"
Elias swallowed a red pill. His skin darkened to deep brown, eyes turned red with black sclera, and his hair turned white. His muscles bulged monstrously.
He drew a sword and lunged.
I barely blocked, sensing his newfound power.
We exchanged blows—my skill superior, but his strength and speed greater. I dodged and parried, letting minor wounds pass, conserving energy.
Over time, his strength was fading. I thought maybe the effect of the pill was starting to wear off.
He retreated, and I closed in as much as I could to stop him from swallowing another pill—but he did it just in time and dodged my strike.
Suddenly, he grew stronger.
Now, all I could do was dodge.
He realized this and headed straight for the carriage.
Damn.
He wants to kill them—or trap me so I can't escape in any direction.
He lunged. I blocked, but his strength overwhelmed me, and his blow landed hard on my forearm. I parried, and then he unleashed a furious barrage of attacks. I focused, knowing I had less than five minutes before I'd lose consciousness.
Strange—my head started spinning, and hallucinations crept in.
Is this poison?!
Then I saw it—his sword was coated with venom. Or maybe it was his power. Every wound I allowed started spreading like black veins—like the roots of a dead tree crawling across my skin.
I shouldn't have hesitated. I was careless and underestimated my opponent.
I tensed every muscle, sharpened all my senses—mind, body, reflexes—and began blocking and parrying faster and faster. I had to be quicker. Then I went on the offensive. Elias could only defend.
"How… how is this possible? Who are you?" he asked anxiously.
I didn't hear him anymore. I'd entered the flow—the state athletes and esports pros talk about. Every time I pushed my limits, this was it: purely instinctive, automatic, effortless, as if I were the center of everything, invincible.
My strikes grew faster and sharper. I knew I couldn't use the Lunar Slash—Elias would dodge, and I needed distance for it, which I didn't have now. Instead, I just increased the tempo, hitting harder and harder.
If his sword spread poison, then my blade struck his soul. It was my passive ability—to damage the very essence of my enemy. I silently thanked him for giving me this chance to test it.
I landed wound after wound, but he regenerated. I knew if I stopped, I'd pass out instantly. I bit my tongue, trying to spark the fire that kept me standing.
Then, in a burst of power, I delivered a vertical strike that nearly split him in two. But he started to regenerate immediately.
I unleashed the Lunar Slash, but inside his chest was a red talisman. He managed to instantly teleport away from my attack thanks to the talisman, which crumbled to ash right after use, scattering into the air. Just in time, Elias fully regenerated.
I stepped back, uneasy. My instincts were right—he pulled out a vial filled with dozens of red pills and swallowed them all.
He immediately began growing in size.
He dropped his sword and started pounding me with huge fists.
I had no idea how to dodge or block those blows, or how to stop him from smashing the carriage.
He unleashed a series of strikes, each stronger than the last. His body expanded, and though I desperately blocked, he kept pushing me back.
The only option was to dodge with all my might.
Realizing my plan, Elias charged the carriage again. I tried to block with my katana, but he shoved me hard against it.
Pain exploded in my chest—I coughed up blood. The poison had reached my heart.
I can't lose. I can't give up.
I knew I couldn't take him down—his muscles were massive and tightly bound.
I quickly got back on my feet as he rained blow after blow. I didn't surrender.
I parried, blocked. I don't know how I was still standing, how I hadn't lost consciousness.
His strikes were blurred—I couldn't see them clearly. I defended purely by feel—instinct and intuition. Maybe it was luck.
"Who the hell are you, still standing and fighting?" Elias growled, hitting harder and harder.
Suddenly, a crushing blow was approaching my face, and I knew—there was nothing I could do to stop it. Memories before death flashed before me—filled only with cold and deep, crushing loneliness. I knew I was done for.
But his fist froze in the air right before me.
I immediately stepped back as far as I could.
Confused, Elias muttered, "I don't understand… why did I stop?"
His body swelled to its limit and cracked open, dark blood pouring out. Cracks spread across his skin, spilling guts and blood onto the ground and the carriage.
He screamed, "Nooo!"
Then his body tore apart, his insides flying in a radius of several meters.
I realized his body couldn't take it anymore, and my strikes—especially the damage to his soul—must have sped up the process. Without my soul attacks, I probably would have died.
The moment I thought that, I blacked out, unaware of what would come next.