Rana stepped forward and entered a state of combat. The call was answered. She braced herself. Her body began to generate mana and her senses sharpened. The energy pulsated looked for a release with each beat. It was volatile and threatened to burst but Rana commanded the energy with practised precision. It felt natural. Each violent impulse was a thread and she unravelled them to the rhythm of its beat until they were strands that circulated within her.

Rana was not concerned that a zombie, a dead body, had the ability to generate mana. She was not even interested in knowing why she was able to manipulate such an unstable energy. There were rules that needed to be adhered to and if not followed consequences were dire. Years of training was required to properly control mana and an even longer time was needed to do it as skilful was her. Yet somewhere in her memory she knew she died young.

However, none of that mattered. For the first time since waking up Rana felt something. The pulsating energy was warm. It was like her heart was finally beating.

Rana flashed her Status.

Status — Rana (zombie), Mage (level 1)

Stats — Health: 100/100, Mana 20/200, Focus: 1/100]

Attributes — STR: 100, MGI: 200, SKL: 100, VIT: 100, AGI: 150, PER 150

Rana wasn’t surprised. A person had to unlock their mark before able to receive the blessings of a class. The mark was a record of the body and it represented the work a person put into strengthening themselves and their Class. If a person died so too the mark would vanish. Rana was someone who perished and was reborn so it was only natural her Class was level one. Still she was disappointed. She had no doubt her proficiency in controlling mana was a result of hard work and to have all of that wiped out and started anew was frustrating.

Rana acknowledged the numbers with a glance and with a flick of her mind her Status was gone.

She was able to generate a tenth of her maximum mana at the beginning of combat. Her condition was good. Now all she had to do was find her path to victory.

The bandit realized something was amiss. Someone other than the young woman struggling under him declared him to be a hostile threat. Someone not beaten. He scrambled to his feet and clumsily readied his steel axe. His eyes darted and his neck turned and scanned his surrounding.

When the bandit noticed Rana a sleazy grin stretched his wretched mug wide. The bandit was twice her size and had a bulk strong enough to carry a war axe nearly as tall. He thought he had another prey to toy with. He was sorely mistaken.

Rana was not afraid. Whether it was because she lacked fear in her new state of mind or memories she had yet to regain, she had confidence she could achieve victory. She would achieve victory.

“What do we have here?” the bandit mused with his crooked and brown teeth. His face was covered in sweat and flushed red with excitement. “You might be a little too thin for my taste but don’t worry, I’ll make sure you get some loving as well. Why don’t you be a good girl and stay put on the side. I’m sure you’ll find what something to entertain yourself with.”

Rana felt her scowl darken but she composed herself. Only a single step separated the victorious and the dead. Impatience fuelled recklessness and a careless mind missed the minute tells of the edge. She had to focus if she were to remain on the right side.

Rana would observe.

His cackle stopped as the bandit realized the lone girl in front of her was not reacting to his taunts. His attempt at fear failed.

“I changed my mind,” the bandit said and his eyes narrowed. “I’ll carve you up right now. Just looking at you is making me mad. Come here an die you, creepy girl.”

The bandit brought up his axe and rested it on his shoulders. With a grunt he activated his mana core and an air of mana was expunged from his body. It coated his body in mana and allowed it to generate the energy passively over the duration of the fight. He sneered at Rana then began to move closer. His steps were weighted and strained. He looked to intimidate his opponent, letting her know that he was blessed with a Class.

He was a fool.

When the body entered a state of combat it created a mana core that dissipated after battle. Whether a marked one chose to generate mana by channelling the core or expunged it to have their body generate mana passively was usually a personal preference. Channelling the core gained mana faster but it required concentration to suppress mana’s unstable nature. Mages usually chose this approach as they needed access to the higher mana cost of Spells. Skills however had lower mana costs so warriors and rogues, who needed to focus on cast forms, preferred to expunge their mana core instead.

The method in which a marked one gained mana was a choice but it was a rule to channel as much as possible before expunging their core. To believe the rule could be broken was arrogance. They were rules because they cannot be broken. The failure to comply was not a result of cunning, it was the result of inability.

The bandit did not choose to expunge his mana core; he was unable to channel mana.

Rana didn’t know why but the moment she concluded the bandit was unable to channel mana she knew that his Class was also level one and was either a rogue-class or a warrior-class. She smirked. This meant she could kill him.

The bandit must have seen her little smile and was enraged. He charged and each of his steps kicked up dirt and every one of them was predictable. He stomped towards Rana and his intentions could not be louder. He pulled back his arms and took a moment to steady his weapon. It was a moment too long.

Rana ducked as the steel edge swung above her. It was a powerful slash and the momentum pulled the wielder to stagger towards the side. The weapon was too heavy for him therefore there was a speed penalty to his attacks. He was not a rogue-class as their Skills had long and elaborate cast forms which would leave him vulnerable if he was slowed down. He could only be a warrior-class.

Eliminate the impossibilities and identify the certainties. Rana didn’t have to worry about mage-class Spells or rogue-class Skills and only had to pay attention to warrior-class first tiered Skills. She was confident she would be able to recognize them.

The bandit recovered and raised his foot but it wasn’t a kick Skill and he had no means of closing the distance. Those options weren’t available to a level one warrior-class. Rana hopped backwards and her opponent stepped on air and almost tripped forward.

He gritted his teeth at the humiliation and dragged his axe forward. Rana frowned. Raising Gust was a third tiered Skill and Arch Slash was still quite a bit of mana points off for a low level warrior-class. The axe flew upwards but Rana already predicted its trajectory and shifted to the side. The blade went harmlessly past her face and only managed to graze hair. The bandit stopped the axe as it swung upwards into a familiar position. Her opening came.

The bandit steadied his axe above his head as mana surged from his arms into the giant weapon. Rana recognized the Skill. Ground Slam hit hard and had a strong area-of-effect for a melee Skill. Even though the recovery time was long, the aftershock stunned enemies. She did not have the means to block the Skill and backing off would squander the chance. However, she did not need to do either. There would be a moment between when the blade came down and the aftershock.

Now.

Rana began gathering mana into her palm, a Spell formed in her hands. Yet something was amiss. The wind was too close.

Rana’s eyes widened. The bandit grinned.

The axe crashed down in silence and exploded the ground, bursting it into fissures and slamming Rana’s delicate body into the ground.

[System (notification) -> Damage received.]