Cazhi turned the hourglass at his side, starting the timer. Silvy quickly studied her restraints, a mix of chains and reinforced leather, they coiled around her legs and torso, keeping her arms locked behind her, forcing her in a kneeling position. Their locks were difficult but not impossible to pick. She willed a lockpick out of her internal bag, making it appear in her hand. Closing her eyes, she activated [Sphere of Perception], using it to guide the lockpick into the lock, with the torsion wrench ready to turn the mechanism. With the Skill showing the internal mechanism, picking was many times easier. Why she hadn’t thought about it at the beginning, she had no idea. Pressing down each pin to find the right one, she applied pressure to the wrench, turning the lock a bit and blocking the pin in place. She quickly did the same with every pin, the lock unlocked after ten seconds. Hands now free, she unlocked everything else in a minute, plenty of time to spare. She replaced the true locks with the false ones, made of a brittle material that would snap with minimum force, rearranging every restraint to fool every check.

“Now.” Cazhi said, from the side, the hourglass signaling the end of the timer.

Silvy shot forth, restraints falling off her body, two dummy flasks, one painted white, the other yellow, thrown at the dummy to her left, sword appearing in her right hand a moment later and thrust through the right dummy’s heart. Sword disappearing into the bag of holding, a mantle appeared in its place, swiftly coiling around the child and hiding her. Silvy took another dummy flask, this one painted black, throwing it to the ground and running to her left, Cazhi waiting for her.

Rhahnud smiled and nodded, Cazhi maintaining his neutral expression. This was one of the many test runs for the assassination of the king, every step followed to perfection.

Or so she thought.

“Passable. You’re too slow with the restraints, and I noticed your arms were not positioned like before. Too slow with the two flasks as well. You’re against a Platinum rank, not a commoner. You need to take him by surprise and throw them faster, or he might grasp them in mid-air. Again.” Cazhi said, merciless.

Silvy obeyed for the thirtieth time today. Or was it the fortieth? Not like she was counting them. The mantle came off her body, the horrible sensation going away. Everytime she put it on, her body felt bad, almost violated, but it was manageable, after the few first times. This had been the best try today, as far as she was concerned, but Cazhi always asked for more, always finding something that wasn’t perfect. It was unnerving, but thinking about her target, she understood his worries. She took position after recovering the various items, Cazhi locking all the restraints on her once again.

The afternoon passed like this, Silvy repeating the same scenario over and over, with the dummies changing position, sometimes further or closer to her, sometimes with different restraints, sometimes changing the locks or the position of the restraints. This had been going on for almost two months, and Silvy felt ready for the deed, but Cazhi didn’t, so she kept repeating the same thing over and over.

Two months of training nonstop, Silvy thought while going outside. She was undead, but even she felt drained by this. What would she do after gaining freedom? She had to leave the continent. Maybe she’d settle down in a small town. A light chuckle escaped her lips. It didn’t matter how much she tried, she craved fighting. She felt it in her bones, in her muscles, the need to fight and kill, become stronger. This was her monster's side.

At least now her mind felt… clearer than before. She had realized her thoughts had been different before, more animalistic, with her less in control of them. Before, she had been an undead part half-elf. Two months without fighting had turned her mindset upside down, becoming a half-elf part undead. With the change of mindset, she had realized this small part undead wanted to fight, to ravage the world, and was something she couldn’t remove, was part of her. All those dark thoughts in the past were the undead speaking, and now they felt alien, not hers. Well, she still wanted revenge on Zatha, but not if it costed everything. Even all those thoughts of betrayal, being betrayed and all that surprised Silvy. Lindrl had her agenda, Silvy could see it now that her thoughts were more sapient and less monstrous, but that didn’t mean she’d betray her, though, so Silvy had continued to follow her lesson and train with no pause.

Summer was gone, and autumn had arrived around a month ago. The meadow, once green and full of life, was now painted with red and yellow colors typical of the season, leaves decorating the pathways and grass all around. Silvy took a deep breath, the wind blowing around her, the nice smell of the season filling her lungs, the sun slowly going down. Her birthday should be around these days, so she was now thirteen...

“Hey Silvy! Want to grab something to eat?” a male voice called from the side.

Silvy turned, recognizing Rhemar running towards her, the day getting a little brighter for the child. He was a teenager, around sixteen, studying magic in the guild, and he showed no fear in approaching her. Then again, after three months of living here, people had, mostly, accepted her presence, leaving her alone. Some, though, had found the courage to speak with her, and Rhemar was one of those few, speaking to her almost every day.

Considered by many gifted, this teenager had traveled away together with most of the guild to attend Divol Luvrat’s lesson, the strongest human [Archmage] still alive. The announcement of his lesson had emptied the mages’ guild a few months ago, and not only Chilog’s one. Many people attended this lesson, probably the last of the [High Archmage] life. He was a hundred and fifty years old and even his powerful magic was steadily losing its power, his life slowly slipping away from his grasp. Given the situation, the [High Archmage] had given a last lesson to the whole Empire, inviting them to the capital for his last public apparition.

“You know I can’t taste, Rhemar.” she answered to the boy, raising her head. He stood at a meter and seventy centimeters, and Silvy had to look up to meet his eyes. She had grown a bit in these two months, standing at one meter and fifty, but she was nowhere close to him. His gray eyes looked at her, a smile on his lips, his short brown hair ruffling in the wind.

“That’s what you believe! I bet you just haven’t eaten the right food. I’ve got a new idea, let’s go!” he insisted. This was one of the innocent experiments he kept nagging her about.

When he had heard of her when coming back to Chilog, instead of being scared, he had remained fascinated by her situation, asking three questions for each of her answers. She had been surly at the beginning, shooing him away every time, thinking he just wanted to annoy her. But he was insistent, and she had quickly realized he had no malicious intentions, just curiosity. That had made her treat him better, satisfying his thirst for knowledge without endangering herself, and he had quickly learned her schedule with Rhahnud, appearing almost every day at the end of his lesson. And today was one of those days.

Silvy rolled her eyes. “Fine. It won’t work, just like every other time we tried.” she said, Rhemar taking her hand and pulling her along the meadow. They sat down on the grass a bit hidden away, Rhemar taking out a flask with a dark red liquid inside.

“Here. This is a new concoction I made up. Well, it’s a sauce. Here, I have a sandwich ready.” he said, passing Silvy a sandwich with some meat inside and the sauce. She opened the flask and sniffed the content, the strong smell filling her lungs, Silvy not coughing only because she didn’t need to breathe. Shrugging her shoulder, she opened it up, put the sauce on the meat and closed it again, taking a bite, tasting… nothing.

Silvy opened her eyes wide, chewing with gusto, nodding at Rhemar and taking another bite, the teen throwing his hands up in the air, triumphant. “I did it!!” he screamed.

“Nope, sorry, I was joking. Can’t taste anything.” Silvy said, deadpanned, after swallowing the bite. Rhemar hung his head down, defeated, and Silvy laughed, amused by his reaction, followed by Rhemar right after, sneakily glancing at Silvy a few times.

“Do you want it?” Silvy asked, handing him the sandwich. Rhemar vehemently shook his head, leaning back away from the food.

“No way! That stuff is practically poison for living beings. That’s why I was hoping you could taste it. I tried a little yesterday and my tongue still feels funny.” he said.

Silvy took another bite, not seeing a reason not to.

“You know, you could probably win every drinking competition.” Rhemar added, after a second of thought.

“Yes, but I can’t get out of the guild yet, and no one organizes those in here.” she answered.

He nodded. “Right, that’s unfortunate. It won’t always be like that, though! Think of all the money you could make! I’m mildly envious.”

Silvy rolled her eyes. “You are not, trust me. I can’t taste food! How is that a good thing? I really miss it, you know.”

“I know. That’s why I’m trying to come up with something! There has to be something even undead can taste, right?” he said, a strange light in his eyes. “Maybe human blood?” he said with an evil smile.

“Please, give me a break.” she said, waving him away. “What if I told you I already tried?” she said, blinking innocently.

“Then I’d have to cross it from my list.” he said, taking out a notebook. “Human blood not tasty. There.” he said while writing it down, putting the notebook away right after.

“There’s no way that’s what you wrote.” she challenged him.

“Oh? You dare call me liar? Observe!” he said bringing out a notebook and presenting it to Silvy with exaggerating gestures. Such a show-off.

She snatched the notebook from him, a page already opened for her. It was a list of… things. There were various types of foods and spices, alchemical ingredients, some of them poisonous, and… rocks? And yes, there was a phrase at the end, ‘Human blood not tasty’.

“Did you seriously make me eat iron?” she asked, noticing ‘iron’ crossed out.

“Only in small quantities. I’m surprised you didn’t say anything at the crunchiness of those biscuits. And your teeth didn’t break. I was half-expecting that, to be honest.” he said with no shame.

She threw the notebook back to him, hitting him straight on his nose. “Ouch!”

“My teeth won’t grow back, blockhead! What if they had snapped?” she asked with fake anger.

He raised his hands, trying to pacify her. “Many people have fake teeth! I would have bought you one, a golden one!”

She sighed. “Don’t let me eat rocks again, all right? Or I’ll get angry.” she said, maintaining her facade.

“They are minerals.” he answered, Silvy glaring at him. “Sorry, sorry. I won’t do it again. But I have to try!”

“Why are you so fixated on this anyway?” she asked, curious.

“Because it makes no sense. Why can you smell, see, hear and feel, but not taste? It doesn’t make any sense!” he answered, distressed.

“Undeads can’t taste. They don’t even know what it is. That’s why I can’t do it.” she said.

“Was it…” he leaned in, whispering. “the core told you that, right?” he asked.

Yes, she shouldn’t have said it to him. But how can you refuse someone who looks like a beaten dog if you don’t answer? And he was the only person around her age talking to her…

“Yes.” she answered.

“But you know what taste is! Why does the core take precedence? Can’t you, I don’t know, teach him?” he asked.

“It’s not answering anymore, you know that.”

“Aaah!” he said, scratching his head. “I’ll find something, okay? There are still many things you never tried! For example, have you ever tried bark?”

“Who in the right mind would ever eat bark?” she asked, speechless.

Rhemar reached for the nearby tree, snapping a bit of bark off. “You.” he said, offering it to her.

“I wouldn’t consider myself in the right mind.”

“Then you are perfect! Try it.” he said, pushing it in her face.

She snatched the piece of bark, eating it before she could change her mind. Unbelievable. Why was she doing this again?

“Nothing.” she said after keeping it in her mouth for some time and dissolving it after. No way she would chew on that.

“Ow. And here I thought you were secretly a dryad.” he said, spiritless

“I understand. There are many similarities between a dryad and an undead. For one, neither of them eats trees.” she said, deadpanned. She had no idea what a dryad was, but it probably didn’t eat trees. What ate trees anyway?

“So you admit you are a dryad?” he asked, faking shock.

“I don’t even know what those are, actually.”

“Monsters living inside trees. Or maybe they take the form of a tree? I can’t remember, I studied them many years ago.” he stopped talking, his face becoming serious again. “Did you hear about the king?” he asked, changing the subject.

Silvy had, Cazhi telling her a few days ago the king was on its way and would reach the city the day after tomorrow. Everything was ready, from the items in her possession to the meeting point after her escape, the revolutionary group having everything under control, or so they said.

“I heard about it, yes.” her head hung low, watching her hands.

What was the right thing to do? Before meeting Rhemar, before these two peaceful months, the answer would have been immediate. The most pressing matter had been escaping, no matter the consequence. But that had changed: what would Rhemar think about her, knowing she killed a king? What about Lindrl? This was something different. Her being half-monster was not her doing, her will, but killing the king would be a willing action, something she had planned and worked for. There was no coming back after that. Maybe she should speak and listen to the king before deciding...

Rhemar took her hand, comforting her. “Don't worry, everything will be fine. Our king is just, and won’t punish you for something you didn’t commit. And I may have asked for a favor from my father…” he said without meeting her eyes, Silvy looking at him dumbfounded.

“Your father? What does he have to do with anything?”

He sheepishly looked around, confirming no one was listening before speaking. “Well, I never told you, but I’m a noble.”

“You don’t act like one. At all.” Silvy said, mocking him.

He opened his mouth wide, faking indignation. “Impudent peasant! Guards, flog this bumpkin at once!” he said to no one in particular pointing at her before chuckling. “Thank you, I guess? Most of them are insufferable, I know, believe me, I met many. Sorry I never told you, but I didn’t want you to, you know, treat me differently.” he said, sneakily glancing at Silvy.

She shook her head. “I won’t, don’t worry. Even if you are noble, though, I doubt one voice in the crowd will make much difference.”

“Weeell, my father might not be exactly ‘a voice in the crowd’...” he said, Silvy looking at him curiously. He hung his shoulder, defeated. “I’m a Ferwalker, and my father is the householder. He’s coming here with the king, I asked him if he could help you out, he said yes, and I believe him.” he said in one breath.

“Who?” Silvy asked, tilting her head. Was he someone important?

“Really?” he asked, amazed, whisper-shouting. “One of the six great noble families! The Ferwalker! How have you not heard of us?”

So, she had from her side one of the six great noble families, if Rhemar was to be believed, or his father. That didn’t sound bad, but there five more that could go against her, so that didn’t help. Even having the help from all six wasn’t a sure way of getting out of it alive, so one probably didn’t make much difference. Then again, one was better than none.

“Oh.” Silvy said, unimpressed. “I didn’t know, sorry. So, you are important?”

He shrugged. “Not really. I’m the fifth son, so it’s unlikely I’ll inherit much, and I’m not very interested either. Magic is much more fun than managing some land.” he stopped and shook his head, distressed. “That’s not the important part! My father wrote he would do his best to help you out, and I know he wasn’t lying. Everything will be alright, okay? Leave it to me.” he punched his chest.

Silvy mentally rolled her eyes, his flirting so bad it was cute. If she had been Silvy from before Erika, she might have been oblivious to his interest, even if she wasn’t so sure of that, given how bad he was at hiding it, but having Erika’s life inside her head gave her many years of experience. His young, inexperience and pathetic attempts were as clear as a day, but they were still cute. And he wasn’t bad, only their family were so far apart that even if she was interested in him, they’d have a lot of troubles to be together officially. Still, this sensation, being wanted by someone, felt… good.

“Thank you.” she answered genuinely, smiling. Having someone cheer her up felt good, especially knowing they weren’t empty words and he probably did ask for a favor from his father. What was the cost of it, she wondered…

The shadows were stretching and Silvy looked up, revealing the red sky, the sun disappearing behind the walls. “I should go back. Have a good night!” she stood.

“Oh, sorry for keeping you so late! Here, let me walk you home.” he said, standing up with her and walking to her side.

Embarrassing silence descended on the couple, the two of them carefully never making eye contact, some people looking at them amused, some disgusted, few outright hostiles, but no one stopping them.

Reaching Lindrl’s house, they faced each other.

“Ehm, goodbye then, Silvy! Have a good night!” Rhemar said awkwardly.

“Bye-bye.” Silvy said, waving and entering the house.

Rhemar stood there a few seconds, unsure of what to do, before walking away. “Idiot!” he smacked his head. “That was your chance! Why didn’t you take her hand! Gah!” he whispered to himself.

Silvy, behind the ajar door, chuckled. She didn’t know what he found in her, a half-monster, and it clearly wasn’t for ‘academic purpose’ like he claimed, or at least not only that. Sighing dreamily, she walked upstairs. Her life had changed so much from that day… if she hadn’t become a monster, she’d still be living in the slums, a war threatening to worsen her living condition even more. She’d have never met Lindrl, never met Rhemar… Was this a good thing? Or a bad one?

Her room’s door closing behind her, she sank into her bed, slapping her cheeks, idle thoughts driven away. The night passed calmly, Silvy training with the two cores like always, trying to copy the elemental rune into one of the smaller cores Lindrl had bought her.

Prowess in magic was not the only thing she was gaining from this endeavor, she had discovered a few weeks ago. Knowledge of the core, on what it did had slowly appeared in her mind, where before was nothing.

That had made some things clearer. For example, the latest Skill of the [Chimera] class, [Advanced Bond: Undead Core], had fused Silvy and the undead minds closer than ever before. Unfortunately, she had dashed through levels in less than a month, creating an unstable fusion. Consciously, or unconsciously, Silvy wasn’t sure, each of their minds had tried to prevail on the other, changing who she was more than should have happened, the undead core winning at the beginning. Not only was it in an advantageous position, being stronger than her, but she had fought many times. Monsters thrived on fights, lived for it, and her ‘appetite’ had only made things worse, the undead core gaining more and more hold on her mind. This had changed with the last months, Silvy forced to live a peaceful life with little outside contact, her only fight a brawl against a few idiots [Mages]. That had barely counted as a fight, though. Nevertheless, at least she hadn’t lost herself completely to her monster side, even if she had come close. And, for now at least, the core was silent, as it had been for a long time.

Unfortunately, like every other day before, her attempts to replicate the elemental rune were met with failure after failure. Three months of failures were hard to accept, even for her. She would’ve abandoned the undertaking a long time ago if it wasn’t for her magic receiving glaring improvements from it. Her undead rune had changed colors many times in this time frame, and two lines had even changed position. Not by much, but they did. Thus, she wasn’t wasting time, the undead rune emanating a magical feeling not present before, no wrongness coming from it like the time she had tried to change it manually. Still, three months of failures weren’t fun, and only her undead determination had kept her going.

Her spell repertoire had also increased, Silvy learning every spell considered most basic for every element, adding [Water Creation] and [Earth Tremor] to her arsenal. They didn’t do much, but it was something.

[Water Creation] wasn’t much different from [Flame Creation], like Lindrl had explained. A ball of water would be created where the rune had been, with the caster able to slowly move it around at a maximum of one-meter distance. [Earth Tremor] was funnier, but still of limited utility. Once cast, the ground around the caster would vibrate slightly as long as she fed mana. These vibrations weren’t strong enough to knock someone on the ground, only creating small circles in a glass of water, but they might be useful as a distraction.

But it wasn’t over. She had learned [Firebolt]! Finally, Silvy had an offensive spell she could use against enemies. The spell created a small ball of flame, similar to [Flame Creation] in size and shape, but moved much faster and farther, flying for around thirty meters before disappearing, and packing a much stronger punch.

Lindrl had also explained to her how the elements were categorized relatively to their use.

Fire was the most direct and forthright element, concentrated on dealing as much damage as possible. That came with a drawback, though, in the form of its defense and control capability. Defensive spells of the fire element were the worst of every element, not able to create a solid wall or redirect strikes, only slightly hiding the caster behind the flames. Moreover, its control capabilities were extremely limited, as fire wasn’t solid and couldn’t hold a person or object for long.

Water, its direct counterpart, was instead centered on controlling the opponent and battlefield. Its damage and defensive potential left to be desired, but its defense was still better than fire.

Earth, on the other hand, had the best defensive spells of the lot. After all, earth spells created or moved solid blocks of the ground and could be used to block projectiles, magic or melee hits. On the other hand, its damage potential was the worst of all the elements, with better control than fire.

Air was instead considered the multipurpose element. Jack of all trades, master of none, air spells packed damage, control and defensive capabilities better than every element apart from those specialized in it. Air mages were mostly used as a backup in armies, directed to specific areas needing support.

After having prepared the laxative and sleeping potions, five each, Silvy had lost interest in alchemy, focusing completely back on spellcasting. Knowledge of potions could be useful, yes, but right now she needed raw power to face the future.

The night passed peacefully, Silvy failing her copy like every other time before. It’s not like that made her mad. Not at all.

Knocking on the door stopped Silvy from her training, the child wondering who it was. It was still early, why would Lindrl knock?

She opened, Lindrl in front of her, six fully armored and armed soldiers, weapon drawn, behind the archmage. Lindrl mouthed “Don’t resist.” to Silvy before moving to the side, one soldier, a man around forty with thick eyebrows, stepping forward right after.

“By the order of King Klisser Foster, legitimate and sole rule of the human Empire, you are under arrest. You’ll be moved to a new location inside the castle. Please don’t resist. Glem, Norgil, search her.” two men at his side moved forward and turned Silvy around. They thoroughly searched her, confiscating her bag of holding but finding nothing else on her body. Because what she needed was inside it.

The soldiers, satisfied with their result, locked a collar around her neck, her mana becoming chaotic and unstable, rendering rune creation much harder. They connected a chain to her collar, wrapping it around her arms, locking them behind her back, two handcuffs added for good measure. They locked four different chains to it, each one held by a soldier, adding two shackles to her ankles connecting to her arms. Silvy had carefully studied each lock, [Sphere of Sensation] activated to see its inside, the child determining she could unlock them with little trouble.

Overall, the chains left her with little room to move, forcing her to take a small step after the other rattling each time, the soldiers leading her downstairs and outside, where more of them awaited.

A small crowd had gathered, foreign faces watching the monster being brought away. Silvy walked with her head held high and forward, ignoring the whispers and stares. She was not ashamed of who she was, there was no reason to let them take her pride.

Outside the guild, Silvy was led inside a cage, the chains locked and secured at its bars, the wagon moving forward with no horse pulling, a magical carriage. Silvy had always wanted to ride in one of these, but not like this. She kept her head forward, a crowd in front of her, a procession following behind, everyone trying to get a glimpse of the monster but no one getting close, the soldiers making sure of that with their weapons drawn and ready to act.

Rhemar appeared from a side road, breathless, watching Silvy being brought away. That was the only moment she moved her head to the side, staring right into his eyes with fear she didn’t want to admit, disappearing right after, but not before the boy could see it.

Then the moment was lost, and the carriage kept moving.

--------

A massive procession was moving towards Chilog. Over fifty thousand men marched forward, the column of humans extending for hundreds of meters. Scouts were sent forward and backward, always alert for attacks. Many carriages moved in the center of this procession, full of weapons, armors, and supplies, pulled by nothing but magic, each of them costing thousands of golds.

All around, monsters were culled, bandits slew and civilians warned, the vanguard of the Empire’s army marching forward as one.

In the middle of it, together with the other, bland, carriages, stood exquisite and decorated ones, transporting people and not goods. The head of two great noble families had followed the king in this journey, lending him many of their troops. Of course, all the nobles were obliged to this, but many of them would arrive at a later date, not using any magical equipment or [Priests] to speed up the march. One of those carriages was the most beautiful, with plated gold wheels and purple silk, with red padded seats and regulated temperature inside. Next to it, [King] Foster Klisser was riding on a horse, his head and back held high for all to see, his long brown hair flowing in the wind for all to see. He wore a gambeson, similar to those worn by the soldiers around him, but with a royal attitude, making everyone who saw recognize him for who he was, a king. His narrow face, small nose, narrow lips, and brown eyes were focused in front of him, appearing as the perfect ruler. Chilog was near, and he was coming.