Chapter 39

Pretty Little Lady

August, the 8th, 2026

She could still hear them -- even in this deep, obscure hell shrouded by tall, dead, and charred trees. All around was a rocky, steep decline with boulders the size of five grown men obscured by even more ridiculously taller trees, each as thin as a child's arm, yet virtually impossible to cut.

"This fucking dress..." she cursed as she slipped and rolled down for a good few moments, getting even more cuts that had long since begun to burn her alive. What just half an hour ago was a porcelain-white wedding gown enriched by frilly loops was now a red-and-brown drenched, torn, and shredded piece of clothing that just made her run even more difficult.

It didn’t help that the corset beneath was suffocating her nearly as much as running relentlessly through a godawful terrain had. Furthermore, the uncertainty of what happened and where she was, and just how many people were after her, and even where she was going... it was all enough to nearly make her cry. But she endured. She hadn’t cried in years, and she wouldn’t start now.

The steep decline continued further down, but she spotted a tiny opening to the left side. She managed to notice it only because of the faint, flickering, golden light that drew her attention. She barely managed to stop, once again nearly barreling down, and ran sideways. She’d long since taken off her heels, and though it was definitely easier, it was also extremely painful. She felt as though her feet were poked repeatedly by pins and needles and were then doused in flush alcohol just for a good measure.

Reaching the place, she realized it was an extremely steep dip into the side of what she assumed was either a truly massive hill or a mountain, and that the light was coming from the strange, lifelike gems embedded in the side walls. Though the place was somewhat hidden, they would definitely notice it, just as she had. Looking around, she saw that there was no way she could conceal it -- unless she suddenly became about eight thousand times stronger so she could bring over one of those massive boulders that could easily be carved into two-stories tall houses.

Gritting her teeth, she stepped over the jagged edge of the entrance into a crawlspace-like tunnel, barely wide enough for her to scurry inside, and began carefully descending.

She continuously grabbed at the sidewalls as she descended, oftentimes slipping and nearly falling down without control.

There was no point in running on the outside anymore. She was getting tired, worn out, and the fire that had kindled her runaway... was dimming. If there was nothing and no one at the bottom of this hole... she would simply end her life before they got to her. At the very least, that way, she would go out on her own accord rather than as a ‘punishment’ for ‘disobeying the Rite’.

The journey down was extremely long -- so long she’d lost the sense of time. In the darkness, with only the unknown, flickering gems and her own thoughts as the company, she’d slowly began losing herself in the ever-surging delirium. Memories began to clasp at her, and regrets began biting her deep.

Ever so often, she would pause to rest slightly, but as she still had to hold herself onto the sidewalls, it did little in alleviating her tiring arms that had gone completely numb by now... so, she continued. Deeper and deeper down, until it seemed like she was about to crawl into the Earth’s very womb.

On the verge of going insane, she finally saw the ray of hope as the drop ended, turning into a flat and straight tunnel that widened immediately in front of her eyes, leading to the milky-white exit. Her lips curled up into an involuntary smile as she found herself burning with a sudden burst of energy that drove her forwards.

She stumbled through the light and rolled down a slight decline once again, landing on a soft surface. Grumbling, she heaved herself up slowly and looked around, her lips gaping in awe right after.

In front of her, a structure of stone elevated to nearly eighty feet into the air, circular in shape with six identical pillars rising into the sky. They started thin and grew wider toward the top, like blossoming flowers, curling inwardly toward what looked like a stone platform. She walked up slowly and carefully, inspecting it.

The stone showed signs of aging here and there with several cracks, but the whole thing otherwise appeared extremely stable. There were strange, circular patterns within the platform itself, crisscrossing one another, all of them looping toward the center where an extra, elevated platform resided. It was made of some pure-white stone, even cleaner than marble, and was levitating above the floor, its bottom a sharpened tip, like a pencil’s.

Still reeling in shock, she reached out and touched it, immediately regretting as she felt an insane pull drag her from the ground and into the air, as though she was tossed into a zero-gravity chamber. Panicking, she flayed her arms around in a vain attempt to do anything, but any resistance was futile as the strange energy pulled her in and onto the platform.

Right as she landed, a strange set of screens, almost futuristic-like in their design, rippled in front of her, runic characters she couldn’t recognize slowly morphing into English letters and words that she very much could.

//Welcome, Senna Astelia

Please confirm your identity.//

Seeing her name floating there, right above two boxes depicting ‘Yes’ and ‘No’, had her spiraling even further, confused, terrified, uncertain. She raised her arm yet hesitated; was it some sort of a high-end experiment? A woefully unnecessary and elaborate prank? Was she dreaming this all up to cope with the fact she was currently in her bridal suite ‘consummating’ her marriage? Whatever was the case, she feebly reached over and pressed ‘Yes’ whereupon the screen flashed, its message changing.

//Do you wish to become a Weapon Saint?

Please confirm your choice.//

A Weapon Saint? What’s that? She pondered inwardly, yet there was no further explanation -- just the same 'Yes' and 'No' boxes as before. She was more and more certain this was a made-up fantasy in her head, means of preserving her strength when all of it had been sapped. In this fantasy, she would be a Weapon Saint, after all -- a title of someone important-sounding.

Smiling bitterly at her own weakness, and at the fact that she, in the end, failed to escape her rancid fate, she shook her head and pressed 'Yes'. Suddenly, her whole body froze up as she felt her heartbeat speeding up. At first, it was only akin to a sudden adrenaline rush... but with each second passing, it grew faster. And faster. And faster. It began to hurt within a few more seconds, as she felt her heart blasting against the surrounding organs and the ribs. Cracking sounds had her reeling, and the pain had her nearly passing out. Screaming in pain did little to help, and yet, just as she was about to pass out from it all... it ended. Her heart calmed down immediately, and, a single beat later... it was a miracle.

She could feel the blood surging from her heart through her veins, and it was different. There was something in it that made her feel impervious to everything, that made her feel like an unmovable boulder in a raging storm. Just then, another screen flashed in front of her eyes, drawing her attention away.

//You have become a Weapon Saint

Unlocked: Mana, Tier 0 Skills, Tier 0 Weapon Storage, Tier 0 Coalesced Weapons

Unlocked: Access to the Stores of Denizens

Unlocked: Levels

Unlocked: Items//

She shuddered for a moment, and yet, before she could recover, felt the same energy that dragged her onto the platform push her off. She yelped, yet even as she hit the stone-floor squarely... felt nothing. It was only then that she realized all her wounds had healed -- and that the fall, one that would usually at the very least break a bone or two -- similarly caused no wounds to appear on her.

Still shocked, she remained seated for a good while as she began to suspect this wasn’t ‘just’ a fantasy. It seemed... too real to only be a story made up inside her head. The strength she felt was real, as was the lack of pain and even exhaustion. She felt as though she could run for hundreds of miles without rest, and still have spare energy left.

Standing up, she looked around curiously but saw that everything was exactly the same as it was when she entered.

“... what was that?” she mumbled, glancing at her palms. “Weapon Storage?” she let out a startled yelp as a screen abruptly appeared in front of her. It was a bit different from the previous ones, as it was a rectangle broken down further into sixty smaller squares. Most were empty, save for the first four that had something within them. She tenderly reached out and touched the first whereupon blinding light flashed into her eyes, causing her to nearly stumble.

A moment later, she felt extra weight appear in her hands, and when she opened her eyes, she was stunned to learn there was a genuine sword just lying there, in her hands. It was just over a foot long and two inches wide, with a classic, flat guard and leather-bound handle. Though it looked like it was steel-made, she couldn’t be certain as its weight was... nothing. As though she was holding an apple rather than a blade of steel.

She cautiously weaved it around and realized that there was more to the sword than ‘just’ the sword itself -- she didn’t have to hold it to wield it. Rather, she let go of the sword -- and the thing remained floating there, in front of her. Just by thinking ‘move’, it moved. ‘Spin’ and it spun. ‘Turn’ and it turned. The more she experimented, the more drawn into the absolute nonsense she became.

Within minutes, the blade was dancing around her like a butterfly, whizzing past her ears and leaving behind splitting sounds. Right after, she called out ‘Weapon Storage’ once again and clicked on the three remaining boxes that had something in them. A dagger, a shield, and a spear appeared in front of her, cast similarly to the sword, floating.

After a few experiments, she learned that she could comfortably control two at the time, but three -- and especially four, which she couldn't at all -- became too difficult. As such, she put away the dagger and the spear and had her fun playing around with the sword and the shield. At this point, she mused, even if it was just a fantasy she concocted inside of her head... it was more than enough.

Soon, however, her theory that it was just a ‘fantasy’ began cracking as the groans and loud grumbles coming from the same hole she fell through startled her. As she suspected, they found the dip and sent someone inside. Six, to be exact. She was flabbergasted at the fact that she could distinguish that there were six people there by just feeling it. What the hell is going on?!

One by one, she saw them flatten out of the hole and onto the ground, cursing aloud as they spun, coming to. They quickly located her as she walked to the front of the platform and hid away the sword and the shield behind her, staring down at the six extremely familiar faces, among them a man that was waiting for her at the altar less than an hour ago. He stared at her with a mixture of anger and ridicule, his wedding suit ruined beyond repair, though still not quite as bad as her wedding gown.

“Who knew a bitch like you could run so well?” he asked in a deep growl, anger at the forefront of the emotions. “Where the hell did you lead us?! Huh?”

“...” she remained silent -- mostly because she, similarly, had no clue where she was or what the hell was going on.

“Stop chattering around,” one of the older men in the group warned him. “The more we’re out, the greater the chance we run into someone. Let’s just grab her and go back.”

“...” Senna bit her lower lip suddenly as she felt her eyes grow hot and watery. After all, that man... was her father. Her own blood. Someone she trusted with her soul until just a few months ago. “Did you... did you ever even love me?”

“What are you talking about?” the old man grumbled as they began walking toward her. “I’m doing this because I love you.”

“You’re... you’re selling me to a man nearly thrice my age because you... love me?” she stuttered in the soundless fury.

“I am trying to cleanse your sinful soul, you bedeviled child!” the man roared. “If you felt the God in your heart, you would have joyfully accepted it and we wouldn’t be in this mess! You ungrateful child!”

“...” Senna gritted her teeth tightly, grinding them until they nearly snapped, her gums beginning to bleed. “Fuck you.”

“... what did you say to me?!!”

“I said FUCK YOU!!” she screamed out at the top of her lungs as tears broke out of her eyes, a dam blowing up within her heart as a surge of suppressed hate, anger, pain, agony, and sorrow ripped out throughout her whole body, stirring fire within her soul.

“HOW DARE Y--”

"SHUT UP!!" she screamed, the shockwave of her voice pushing the six men a good few feet backward, much to their shock. A sword ripped out with a whiz from behind her, resting above her head, spinning in place. "I've had enough!! ENOUGH!!" she added, tears and blood mixing as they ran down her jaw and chin like a waterfall. "I'm DONE trying to get you to love me!! You never did, and you never will! Hell, fuck loving me -- you don't give an ounce of a fuck for me!! To you, I'm just a tool!! Look around you -- you've chased me into god-knows-where to get me back just so that ugly cocksucker next to you can spend the next thirty years of his life raping me! You're not my father," she added, a singular thought appearing in her mind. 'Behead'. "You're just another one of God's mistakes."

“SENNA--” an enraged roar was cut short, and the world fell silent for a brief moment as Senna watched six heads fly up in the fireworks of blood, widened eyes of horror staring at her for a moment before turning dull and lifeless. The six heads and bodies fell down nearly at the same time, thudding throughout the otherwise eerily silent world. Something inside of her broke at the same time the bodies fell, and the world turned gray and dark.

Right after, she fell to her knees and keeled over, vomiting what it felt like a week of nutrition. She felt sick in her stomach, and every time she would look at the six corpses, the process would begin anew. Yet, she forced herself to keep looking, over and over again. If she would go to jail -- which killing six people most-certainly entailed -- she would go in there at least somewhat hardened. Somewhat prepared. Not just a terrified, sixteen-year-old girl who can’t defend herself.