Of course, she had to refuse. She had refused, and they had been sad. It was obvious. Not that they had shown it: they had only nodded and changed the subject after that.

Silvy was swinging her mana blade in her inn’s room, dancing around silently and nimbly. She stopped, balancing on one leg on tiptoes, sword thrust forward, arm outstretched backward to maintain balance. She had felt sad as well: having some companions again would feel good, even if they could not replace Rat’s group. But she had too many things to do, and she was still too weak…

Right: time to try swordplay and magic casting at once. She knew it was hard because they had told her, but she had never tried it herself: she had never known a spell before. But now she knew one: [Mana Blade]. It had become a Skill as well, making its cast easier. Levels, classes, skills: they made everything you did easier. You received a class in line with what you had done, and it helped you do that thing: if you fought with weapons, you would become a warrior, enhancing your reflexes, your strength, even your toughness. Each level would increase these enhancements, rendering you better and better with each one. Skills, on the other hand, were received when you had done something particular either for a few times or against the odds: for example, Silvy had received [Faster Pierce] as Skill when she had hit an opponent stronger than her, against all odds. And the Skill were different types: Passive ones were always active, enhancing your persona all day long; the actives ones you had to consciously use, and they would enhance you more but for a shorter time. Given that she had received [Mana Blade], how hard could it be really?

She swung an imaginary blade while trying to draw the [Mana Blade] rune. She did it! It wasn’t so hard after all! Except, she had stopped the swing: she had forgotten about that, concentrating only on the drawing. Oh well, it was just the first attempt, right?

Time to try again! She swung deliberately, concentrating on making a complete motion. She reached the end of the swing and looked at her rune: it was a mess. Only the starting bit was right; everything else was awry, too thick or thin, wobbly, and it was not even completed. Damn it was hard!

Silvy passed ten minutes like this, managing, in the end, at making a perfect rune while swinging from top to bottom, slowly and without controlling it, letting the swing just fall naturally. There was no way she could do this in combat! But she wouldn’t give up so easily either!

She increased the difficulty, this time taking a step forward while swinging and drawing. And that was when the real problem appeared. Runes were drawn using mana from her body, creating a shape in the air. Apparently, a still shape. She took a step forward, and the mana already drawn didn’t follow. Well, it did, but it was like a wet page, ink smeared all around: the piece of rune already drawn was stretched. The rune was completely wrong, having no resemblance to the right shape anymore.

Silvy was speechless. How could you fight if you couldn’t move?!

How did hybrid even do it? Did they fight standing still? Was there a trick to it?! Most likely. She would ask Lindrl tomorrow. Now was the time for the second plan: the core. Could it do it? Time to have an internal conversation.

‘Hey core. Uhm… how are you?’

Hungry.

Surprisingly, it answered. And with words as well! The conversation had started: good.

‘Hey, can you cast magic while moving? You created mana blades while fighting the worms, right?’

No. Other….did.

Other? Oh, the other core cast magic. Did the undead core know what the other core was? This was the most profound conversation they had ever had! Its voice was… ethereal, old and crooked, but clear.

‘Do you know what the other core is? Can it speak?’

Other… slave. No… words.

‘But what monster is it? Do you know it?’

Power...Much.

That wasn’t useful. The core seemed to have difficulty speaking: not surprising as it was a monster’s core, which supposedly didn’t have reason.

‘So. Tell me about you. You are an undead core, right? Where do you come from?’

….I am I.

....Most useless answer so far. Fine. Alright, back to the worms. In that fight, she had been using mana and fighting, but she hadn’t been casting, only manipulating mana. Mhh….

‘Can you do what the other core did with the worms? Throwing blades and fighting with the sword?’

...I...No. Other… No. We… were. One. All.

Not him, but we? All? Whole maybe? They had been whole? This was so confusing! The core didn’t explain, it just stopped speaking suddenly!

‘What do you mean we were one? Do you mean whole?’

Whole. One… Yes. We… work? Whole.

They were working… whole? Together? Maybe they could do it again, but with her in charge now!

‘Can I do it on command? And maintain control?’

No. You weak. I control you. I not slave.

‘That’s not very nice. I am strong for my age, you know! And I can’t let you do what you want! You will just kill everything.’

Nice? You weak… You helped. I… think now. Not only hunger. I help you, once. Now?

Wow, calm down! Silvy had helped the core? And her help made it think? Seemed like it had the concept of helping in return as well… So, could she take control once? That was better than nothing. But how had she helped it?...

‘How did I help you think? You started speaking after the worms, right? The fusion helped?’

You… see more, not hunger. I see too. Think is… hard. Possible. Fusion? Whole. Helped, yes.

Silvy could see more, not hunger… see things other than hunger? How could you even see hunger? Was everything that lived hunger for the core? Well, whatever it thought she was seeing, the core could see it too now. Thinking was hard but possible. And the fusion had helped… She was getting there. She had done something that made the core see something else…

‘What do you see now? Other than hunger?’

Sad. Alone. Anger. Family. Many more. Help think. Hunger… less. Less whole.

‘Those are feelings, not things you can see! You mean when I washed you with my feelings…’

Silvy felt the embarrassment growing, so much so that her cheeks would have become red if she had still been alive.

Feelings. Feel. Yes. More. Want more power. Want more feelings. Show me.

‘You suppress me every time! I don’t even know how I did it back there. And why do you want more power? Aren’t you already powerful?’

Suppress?... Not there? They lost. You not want. They… become not anymore. Before… You want them. You… feel, I feel. More power. I weak. You more weak. We want more power.

Oh… so, only emotions she wanted to maintain remained? Or maybe only the deepest one… Yes. What she had felt in the sewer had been different: it had been something coming out from deep within her, bottled up for all this time. And the core wanted more feelings and more power… It’s not like she could do it on command! And it wanted to eat more monsters for more power she guessed.

‘You want to eat more monsters? And you want my feelings. What do I get if I do it? You talked about help before: do I get more help?’

.... Yes. After more power. Two times whole, together. Want humans.

Well, if she helped it, it would help keep control two times. But the core wanted humans… She couldn’t just go around the city killing people. But there was the brothel… But it was protected. That woman who had beheaded her in the hideout… Was she as strong as Eiram? Maybe more? She was at least as strong as a Gold rank: stronger than her even now. Or maybe…

‘Core, can we beat Eiram if we are whole? Do you remember the girl we fought in the basement of a home a few days ago? Can we beat her?’

The core stayed silent. Silvy could feel it was thinking, looking through the prior events. After a minute it spoke again.

Yes.

Yes. Yes! She could take revenge already! Should she do it right now? Should she wait? Both the guild master and Lindrl wanted to investigate this brothel. Silvy didn’t care: she wanted to eliminate them. She would have her revenge, and the core would have its humans: two birds with one stone.

She opened her shutters. It was deep into the night: a perfect moment. She would have to pass through the gate… No, too risky. People were watching her: she had to be sneaky. About that… Silvy looked outside the open window. The scenery was clear as the day to her: nothing escaped her eyes. She went through every building in front of her, searching for spies.

She didn’t want to mess this up, so she took her time. Every house, every store: she scanned through all of them, looking for people watching the inn at the windows, on the roofs, hidden in alleys. It took her half an hour to find one: someone was lying down on a roof, dressed in dark blue, motionless. It would have been practically invisible to a normal human: even if someone looked directly at him, the night was dark enough to go unnoticed. But not to Silvy’s eyes: she could see him, watching her inn, watching her. Did he notice she found him? It didn’t seem like it. Silvy kept moving her eyes, going over other houses so that she would not stare at him. She had found one: were there others? How could she lose him? Maybe the front door? No, it was also controlled for sure.

She was thinking hard when the core interrupted her. All this time he had been simulating a fight without Silvy knowing it, reaching a conclusion now shared with her.

Two Eiram, no.

What? The core…? Two… Did it mean they couldn’t beat two Eiram? Right… what if that woman wasn’t the only strong person in the brothel? What if there were two? Three? That was so obvious. They wouldn’t keep only one guard in the brothel… Damn it!

More power… she needed more! The core wanted power, humans… maybe not the brothel, but there were many criminals in the slums… Yes. She would eliminate them. And eat them.

Mh… But the problem remained: how to get out without being seen? The best way was probably impersonating an adult and getting out of the front door. She could regrow limbs… How harder could it be to become taller?

She closed her eyes, concentrating on becoming taller, to grow and become an adult. She could feel mana moving around, responding to her wish, empowered and guided by the heart core. Her balance changed: she was growing taller. But a problem soon popped up: her clothes were too small, just like her shoes. She closed her window and removed them, reaching adult size after that, watching the world from a different perspective. Silvy could feel part of her mana being used continuously to maintain the form and being replenished by the mana in the air: she could maintain this form indefinitely because the mana restored was as much as she was using. She studied herself, her body now grown up, different. But she couldn’t go around naked: that would attract even more attention. And it would be embarrassing and dangerous: a bad idea all around. She took the bed sheets, thinking on how to wrap them around her. In the end, she settled on wrapping up the bottom sheet around her legs and torso, broadly covering her; she then took the top sheet and used it like a mantle, covering better her torso and her face. She had nothing for her feet, but it probably was not a problem: the people outside were looking for a child, not a grown woman. She smiled to herself, proud of her plan.

Now, going out of the front door was a bad idea anyway: the innkeeper would make questions she couldn’t answer. She slightly opened the door leading to the corridor, finding it empty: perfect. Silvy moved outside in silent, pressing an ear to the door in front of her: light snoring was coming from inside. She turned the handle, but the door was locked. It was a simple lock, nothing too fancy: she had opened more complicated ones in the past. She knelt in front of it, creating a lockpick with mana. Not only she could move it freely inside the lock, making the process easier, but she could even tell how the lock itself was made: this was child’s play. It took her only eight seconds to make it click, unlocking the door: it was a record. She got inside the room with no problem, slowly and silently closing but not locking the door behind her. A middle-aged man was sleeping tucked away in his bed. A backpack was on the side together with some clothes and a pouch, probably with money inside. But she was not here to steal to a random stranger: her targets were evil. She opened the window of this guy’s room, taking care to not shine moonlight on the sleeping figure. She scanned the roofs quickly, finding no one. There was most likely someone, but they most likely wouldn’t follow her: their target was a child after all. She pulled her hood up more, making sure it was not going to fall when jumping.

The landing made only a small sound, too light to wake someone up. Silvy didn’t lose time, moving into a nearby alley. She kept moving through alleys towards the north-west of the city, changing direction to avoid other people or guards moving around with torches. It took her a good while to reach the walls, and they were very tall: she had heard they were around sixty meters.

Could she make mana go sixty meters up? Time to find out. She made her mana grow and stretch like she had done to climb a tree in the forest: it was a longer way up, though. It became harder and harder the higher it went, but it was not impossible: she felt she could reach the top.

And she did: her mana grabbed the edge, creating an invisible rope/arm, stretching sixty meters down. She pulled herself up, running up the wall. It would have been fun if she didn’t need to maintain the concentration: it was not easy to create a tether so long! But she reached the top smoothly: her plan was working flawlessly.

On the top, guards were moving around, patrolling the wall. But they were all watching out towards the grasslands, and they were far from Silvy, moving close to the other edge. No point in waiting: this was a good moment. Two guards were a dozen meters to her right, standing around a lamp and seemingly playing with some dice. Two others were moving directly away from Silvy in opposite directions, giving her their back. She rushed to the opposite edge, jumping over it: she shot mana behind her, creating a new rope attached to the wall, slowing down her fall. But she needed to be fast, so she slowed down only towards the end, landing with a thud, mana dissipating behind her. Fortunately, the gate was far from her position and the wall was far high up, so no one heard the noise. She had broken a leg, but that was not important: it healed in a single minute.

The slums were her objective, which had no difference from a few days ago. Dilapidated buildings, filth everywhere, unmaintained roads: everything was a mess. She had a good idea of the factions working around her ex-dwellings, and she knew most of them were common thieves, apart from two: one, the Thorngarde, was formed by thugs and ruffians, with the sole objective of roughing up people to steal their belongings, sometimes even killing on commission. Another one was formed by shadowy people, most likely dealing in slavery: slaves were not illegal in the human empire, but they were not taken from random people as these guys did. Most of the normal slaves had accumulated a debt they were not able to repay, others were prisoners of war, taken from skirmishes with other species; rarely people sold themselves to slavery so that they could find someone who would feed them. Even Silvy had thought about doing it before finding Rat’s group: at the time she had almost died of hunger and had lost all hope. Slave trade was therefore regulated, as was their management, but these slavers in the slums didn’t care about rules: they kidnapped people and beat them into submission, creating false debts with the help of other criminals to sell them afterward.

What was her target then? Illegal slavers were crueler in Silvy’s opinion, but they were more protected: the thugs were just idiots with weapons, while the slavers had real guards as far as she remembered.

She wanted to play safe for now: thugs. She moved towards their territory, avoiding most people: she needed to find the best looking and defended building in the zone: that was most likely their base of operations. And to do so, she needed a vantage point.

Silvy jumped up the crumbling buildings, moving from roof to roof effortlessly, having found a good point to observe the surroundings and avoid other people. It didn’t take long to find the base: it was the best-looking building, people stayed clear of it and there were a couple of people at the door lazing about. She was quite sure this was the place, but she wasn’t a hundred percent certain: she could be mistaken. Unlikely, but it was better to confirm it.

She dropped from the roof outside of their vision, coming out from an alley and catching the attention of the guards instantly, who drew their dagger in response.

“Turn around, stinky hobo: we don’t take kindly to intrusions!”

Silvy stopped in place, showing her face and speaking to them.

“Are you part of the Thorngarde? I have some business with them.”

The two guards were now watching Silvy with lecherous eyes, disgusting her. She was just a child! Well, her body was now grown up, but she was still a child anyway!

The guards laughed and came closer, checking out her body.

“The one and only, beauty. Come inside: we can talk there…”

Silvy had what she needed: no need to go inside and lose the surprise. She waited until they were closer; she created a [Mana Blade] and threw it at the guy on the right: it went right through his neck, blood spurting out. Silvy moved at the same moment, punching with all her strength the guy on the left, who didn’t have time to react. His head shot backward and his neck made a cracking sound: he fell backward, unmoving. Flawless execution.

“ENEMY ATTACK! Get your asses outside!!”

A loud shout came from the thug’s base, alerting Silvy and everyone inside. A person was looking outside from a now opened window; Silvy was sure it had been closed. The guy had probably heard the people outside talking and had looked outside in time to see the attack: goodbye surprise.

Silvy knelt down and took the daggers from the dead guards, preparing for a fight. She threw one towards the main door the moment it opened: the first guy cursed and ducked, dodging the throw. The guy behind him was not so lucky and took the dagger to his shoulder, screaming and retreating inside the building.

By now the base was fully awoken. In front of Silvy were six windows, three on the ground and three on the first floor. Every window was open, and thugs with bows were aiming at Silvy from the first floor. Five people had come outside from the front door, with others coming from the sides of the base.

Time to dance.

Arrows flew out one after the other, aiming at Silvy. They were slow, easy to predict: she dodged to the side, making them miss. Meanwhile, the people on the ground had closed the gap, almost at striking distance. Silvy jumped back, farther than they thought. She landed and cast a [Mana Blade], throwing it at the closest target. The guy tried to dodge but received a deep cut on his arm, screaming in pain and falling to the ground. She didn’t stop: her mana blade changed course, surprising the enemies. The guy next to wounded one was pierced through the chest, dead. Arrows reached Silvy again, who now dashed forward, closing the distance with the other three guys and making the mana blade dissipate. Seven more were behind them, too far to reach in time.

She dashed left, forcing a quick duel with the closest enemy. She moved in, dodged his swing and pierced his heart, retreating instantly after that. The other two guys reached too late, unable to strike. Silvy dashed to the one on the right, throwing the dagger to the one on the left. The dagger struck true, piercing the right eye and taking the enemy out of the fight.

Silvy danced around the swing of the other man, punching him in the nose, head snapping back, knocking him out or killing him, she wasn’t sure, in one hit. She grabbed his sword while he was falling, arming herself again.

The archers had stopped firing, fearing to hit their friends. The other seven had slowed down, circling her. They were obviously afraid, ready to run. One of them was staying in the back, screaming to attack her. A man on the right of Silvy with a scar on his face moved forward, trying to hit her. She danced around the blade, cutting his throat in one fluid swing. Two more had come forward in the meantime, one from the side and one from the back. She jumped high and forward, dodging the incoming hits and breaking the encirclement, returning to a guard position. The thugs were ready to run at this point: they were clearly outmatched by this girl and didn’t want to die. The furthest one turned around and ran, throwing the sword on the ground; the noise frightened the other guys, who turned and saw their friend running. The group looked at Silvy, at the guy in the back cursing at the escaping man, and they started escaping as well.

“Bunch of cowards! I will find you!”

The guy at the back cursing, probably the boss of the gang, was more preoccupied screaming at his subordinates than looking at Silvy; that was a mistake because his head went flying right after he finished his threat, cut off by Silvy. The archers in the meantime had also left the building, running away, dispersing in the slums.

Silvy had emerged from the fight untouched. A man with a deep cut on his right arm was trying to crawl away while suppressing his screams, afraid of Silvy: he was watching her terrified.

“Don’t kill me, please. I swear I won’t say anything. You can have my money. Here!”

He threw a bag at Silvy’s feet while crawling away. He was a witness, but so were the other ten escaped people or so. One more would make no difference. But he was a probable murderer. Then again, Silvy had killed men as well now, and not even in self-defense. But she knew what would have happened to her if they had won. No mercy was necessary. But…

“Where does your boss keep the money?”

“They are in his safe! It’s in his study, behind the painting of a woman! He has the key!”

Saying that he pointed at the beheaded guy. Silvy rummaged through his pockets, finding a key in a hidden one. He turned to the wounded guy: he had stood up in the meantime, trying to run away. She threw the sword at him, piercing his head, putting an end to his suffering.

The massacre was over, and she was victorious. Now, time to loot the spoils.

She looked around, searching for witnesses. Predictably, no one was around: people were already avoiding the building before the fight, and the noise had driven away everyone else.

She decapitated every corpse, eating the brains of each one. She could feel energy rushing into her, absorbed by her undead core; she worked fast, eating only that part: it wasn’t necessary to eat the whole body, or at least that was what the core was telling her. But she couldn’t leave evidence behind: she put every head in a pit excavated with her mana blade, leaving headless bodies on the ground.

She took the bag that had been thrown at her and, next stop, their base. She went through it quickly, finding a few backpacks and pouches inside their sleeping quarters. The real deal was on the second floor, in the furthest room from the stairs. It wasn’t locked, and inside was a run-down desk with chairs around it. The room was a failed attempt to recreate a rich room: cracks on the floor and walls, mold and dirt were all around, dissipating any rich first impression the visiting guest could have gotten. Two paintings were on the walls, both depicting naked women. Silvy tore both of them down, finding and opening the safe behind the one on the left.

It had a few things inside: a necklace, two rings, an uncut red gem, probably a ruby, and gold coins. The necklace had a golden chain and a green heart pendant; the rings were plain, one silver and the other golden. Silvy put everything in her bag and counted the gold: one hundred thirty-three pieces. Not bad for a single night.

There was still time before dawn; should she continue? She could feel she was not ready to sleep: more humans were needed.

The slavers were far from where she was: around ten minutes of walking. The night covered her movements through the slums, hiding her from prying eyes.

This base was different: bigger. It was more akin to a mansion than to a house: it had two floors like the other one, but it was wider: there were at least eight windows on the front of each floor. She had to be smarter for them: there were too many to win a frontal assault, and they were probably stronger.

Two guards were at the door, with four more moving around the perimeter. There was probably another entrance in the back, but it was most likely guarded as well.

She scanned the place from her hiding spot behind a house: the space surrounding the slavers’ base was empty of anything, making any approach visible. Mmmh…

She circled the base remaining hidden behind houses, trying to find a blind spot. Sometimes the guards would leave a spot uncovered, but they followed no pattern and it lasted only a few seconds: she wouldn’t make it in time.

She was studying the guards when she heard noise from behind her: steps. People were coming her way, a dozen judging from the sound: she turned around and went that way, paying attention to staying hidden.

A group of people entered her vision. Seven people were in the center, clothes dirty and poor conditions. They were looking around wildly, afraid, and they had their arms in chains, connected and held by the escorting guards. They were armed and around the prisoners: three guards in front and at the sides, with four more in the back. The guards had their face covered by a cloth and unsheathed weapons.

Silvy had not much time until they reached the clearing around the base: she had to decide fast how and if to act. Attacking was a bad idea: the guards at the base would hear. What if…

Silvy dug a small hole in the ground, hiding her bag of holding but putting a couple of silver coins in her hand. She adjusted the hood, covering her face from the sides. She lowered her head, scuttling forward towards the slavers, glanced back a few times, imitating a scared person. The guards immediately noticed her while Silvy pretended to be unaware of their presence. Two guards moved forward and at her sides, while two more advanced on her from the front. She was quickly surrounded, and she stopped in front of a guard, almost running into him.

A gasp escaped her mouth, simulating surprise. She looked up, face filled with fear, eyes wide. Taking a few steps back, the guards on the sides were on her quickly, grabbing her arms and immobilizing her.

One of the guards in front came forward, raising her chin with a finger.

“Hello, little bird. Are you lost? Why don’t you come with us? I’m sure we can help you.”

A disgusting smile was on his face, causing doubts to fill Silvy’s mind. She could still bailout: the guards had her arms, yes, but she could still cast a [Mana Blade] and create enough ruckus to escape. But she calmed down thanks to the undead core. This was the plan she had come up with in a hurry: she would be taken with the other prisoners inside, where she would be most likely put into a cage. Those cages would be guarded by one, maybe two guards, creating a good opportunity for Silvy to destroy them from the inside without being discovered. And there was no way these people could afford an anti-spells device: for one, they cost a lot; and second, the people they targeted were bums with nothing to their name in the slums, not [Mages]. At most, they had one of those devices, and it was kept for valuable merchandise: they wouldn’t use it for a random girl on the streets.

Chains were quickly put on Silvy’s arms, connecting her with the other prisoners. She had put up a believable struggle, trying to free herself from the grapple, kicking away and screaming at the guards; she had stopped after a strong punch in the stomach and a dagger to her face followed by a threat: she had pretended to retch, giving time for the guards to chain her up. Silvy was then put in front of the group, forcedly pulled by the guards, almost tripping her.