The air in here was too humid.

That was the only thought on the mind of a lone knight as she searched the ruins. Outside, a blizzard raged that covered the ground with ice and snow. But inside the partially crumbled building, it felt warm and heavy. The knight went to wipe the sweat off her brow, but paused. Blood still covered the metal of her gauntlet. It was only then that she realized just how much of her armor was stained with red.

It was then that she heard hushed, panicked voices. The knight gazed around in an attempt to locate from which direction they came. She had already searched through about half the rooms in the large building, and had yet to see anyone else. Her eyes closed, she focused on listening to the way the sounds reverberated through the ancient stone bricks. Underground!

There was most likely a trapdoor or some other hidden passage. If they had the means to escape back outside, then trying to locate that entry point would take too long. The knight raised her weapon, and muttered a prayer. Her sword glowed with a harsh, crimson light. The blood on the blade boiled and disappeared into the form of steam. With a thrust, she stabbed the sword into the floor.

An explosion filled the room with a burst of light. The building rumbled as the floor under her collapsed into the underground passage below. The lone knight scanned the area as the power within her weapon slowly faded away. The hushed voices from before were now people yelling. From the darkness, a group of figures emerged.

Red hoods obscured their faces. On the cloth of the robes, each one carried a demonic symbol. They assumed a defensive formation and began to chant. The infernal language of demons echoed through the underground corridor. The ambient temperature immediately shot up by several degrees. The knight could not allow these cultists to finish whatever hellish spell they were about to cast.

Her brown eyes became silver as she once again empowered her blade. She then rushed forward, intent on cutting her foes down before their ritual was complete. The knight quickly closed the gap between herself and them. But as she rapidly charged, one of the cultists broke from the group and moved forward toward her. Within a moment, she analyzed this opponent.

He largely wore the same robes as the others, but around his neck was an amulet. She recognized it instantly as being made from an infernal jewel. If this man wore it, he must have been this group’s leader. In his hands was a staff etched with various letters of the demonic tongue. He stood in place, positioned to meet her attack head-on. Clearly, between the amulet and the enchanted staff, he must have been confident in his close-range abilities.

As their two weapons clashed together, the cultist's leader was pushed back from the force of her blow. The demonic runes let out sparks of their evil energy. The knight was mildly impressed by the fact that the staff itself actually held up against her attack. Even with arcane enchantments, most weapons would have shattered with that single strike. Good. That fact was something she could latch onto.

She began to get angry. Rage pulsed through her veins and boiled inside her. How dare this cultist stand in the way of her mission. How dare he have the audacity to challenge her. Did he actually think he could beat her? Did he think his weapon was better than hers?

She looked into the cult leader’s eyes as she whipped her mind into a frenzy. His eyes were furrowed in concentration, and his forehead tensed. But above all, she could see the hate and disdain he felt as his gaze met hers. That only added fuel to the wrathful fire within her. She let it continue to build up, to fan the intensity of the flames. Her teeth clenched with anger. Her jaw muscles clenched them even harder into each other. Pain filled her mouth as she felt a tooth crack and blood touch her tongue. Now, she was ready.

-100 Mana

She ignored the System notification as she let out a guttural scream and manifested the flames of her wrath into reality. A wave of crimson fire released from her sword. As the fire made contact with the demonic runes, they instantly exploded and the cultist’s staff shattered apart. The knight continued to look into his eyes.

The last emotion he held was that of shock and terror as his weapon disintegrated. But that fear only lasted but a moment. For then the roar of flames engulfed him. His death was painless, however. His mind and body wouldn’t have even had a chance to register the heat.

Within a split second, his skin vaporized as the nerve endings were eviscerated. Next, the layer of fat boiled off and his muscles melted away. The sudden pressure from the boiled blood made his organs rupture. But none of the scalding hot fluids inside reached the ground before they evaporated. The other cultists blinked. And in that short period of time, the living human that had been their leader was now reduced to a charred skeleton. But even that state didn’t last long. The skeleton then fell to the ground and dissolved into a pile of ash when it hit the half-melted stone.

The rest of the cultists were stunned, too frozen to even finish their ritual. But it was when one of them released a bloodcurdling shriek, they snapped back to reality. The men and women clambered and pushed each other out of the way. Each one was too desperate to survive to think about the rest. The lone knight readied her flaming sword. No matter how desperate they were, she would make sure that none of them made it back outside.

One slash covered the wall in a spray of blood. Another swing burnt a cultist to ashes. A thrust tore a hole through one of their chests. One by one, she killed each and every single cultist. The knight couldn’t think too deeply about her actions. She was just barely able to keep her rage under management. It would be too easy to let it explode uncontrollably, but anything less than a fully dedicated level of control would release it all.

But soon, the last of her targets was now dead. With no more foes to kill, she stood there and focused on slowly pulling back flames of wrath. Eventually, the silver-colored irises of her eyes returned to being brown. The flames of her wrath died away from her blade. It was only then that she sheathed her sword, and let out a deep breath. She breathed in another deep breath, before that too was let out. In and out, she focused only on her breathing for several minutes.

The knight then turned back, and looked upon the death she had wrought. Spread out across the ground were pools of blood, piles of ash, and burnt corpses. The knight walked back to the area where the cultists had started their incantations. The ground there was covered in more demonic runes, formed into a pattern in the shape of several series of circles. Most of them were ruined now, the stone partially melted by a stray blast of fire. But from what was left, she could make out what it was they had attempted to do.

“Demon summoning,” she quietly said aloud. The knight imagined what would have happened if she had been too late. If they had been given the time to finish their ritual and bring a demon of the foul pits onto their world. The thought of that scenario was a chilling one. She immediately made a prayer to the High Pantheon, one that thanked them for her being here before that happened.

As she prayed, the golden ends of her otherwise black hair began to shine with a calm light. From it, an aura enveloped the body of the praying knight. The grime and blood on her armor were cleansed. The dents and scratches on the metal faded away. The cuts and light injuries she had taken from the last few hours' worth of fighting became healed. Once the aura of light disappeared, her appearance was now fully restored to a pristine condition.

From behind her, the dead silence of the underground chambers was broken by a slow, steady series of claps. The knight turned around, and bent down onto one knee. The source of the clapping had yet to become visible, but she already knew who it was. This person always showed up in the minutes following the completion of a mission.

“Job well done, Wrath,” a man said as he walked toward her. He had stopped clapping, and held his hands behind his back. His appearance was that of a middle-aged man, seemingly no older than forty at most. His clothes were humble, an outfit compose of simple brown garments. But his status would be betrayed by the precious rings he wore, each one a symbol of the gods of the High Pantheon. As he approached, he pinched his nose and waved his other hand through the air.

“But I must say, I will never get used to the stench of burnt remains. No matter. Once again, you have served the High Pantheon well. These cultists dared to come to our kingdom and attempt to blight its land with their foul demon worship. Thanks to you, this land and its people can now rest easy. Such a deed deserves a reward, what is your heart’s desire?”

“I desire nothing but to continue my service to the throne and the High Pantheon, my lord.” The older man simply nodded. He would always ask that question, and she in turn had always given that same response.

“Now, there is a matter of grave importance I must discuss with you,” he began. He looked around the underground corridors. “But not here, this place has already been tainted by infernal darkness. We shall continue this outside.”

The older man then led them to a secret set of stairs that went straight back above ground. It was the exit the cultists would have used to escape, had the knight allowed them. This was another constant pattern of theirs. She would always enter with brute force, and he would find the easiest path. Once outside, the knight knelt down on the snow-covered ground. The blizzard had finished, and now an icy stillness enveloped everything.

“What I am about to tell you is secretive information. Only the highest members of the High Pantheon’s Clergy are aware of this. And even amongst the royal family, not even your older siblings know of this. I hope that tells just how sensitive of a matter this is.” The man paused to take a deep breath.

“In the Second South region of our kingdom, there exists a prison. In it is an ancient enemy of the gods, one trapped there long before the first humans came to be. It’s laid undisturbed for many, many years. But recently, we have discovered that some civilians had discovered and opened the dungeon that spawned directly near this prison. The Clergy has been quietly observing the situation, in the hopes that an intervention would not be needed. However…”

The older man gestured for the knight to stand up, and pulled out a stack of papers. He turned them around, and let her read the one on top. She frowned as she read. It was an article from a newspaper. A group of students from First Light Academy had disappeared in the expedition of an ancient dungeon.

Along with them, the missing list included professional dungeon researchers and even a Combat Mage from the neighboring nation of elves. Apparently, they had been missing for quite a while and were now presumed dead with an ongoing search for their bodies. Along with this, there was also an expert about how this had apparently also strained the Kingdom of Mendac’s relations with the elven nation. Once she had finished reading, the man put the papers away again.

“Due to the circumstances, we believe that this incident was the work of this ancient enemy. One way or another, this group had likely found its prison and became its victims. But we cannot be sure if it will simply end there. This being has been described as crafty and able to use any opportunity to attempt to spread its evil. As such, it has been decided that your next mission will be in the Second South region. Your primary goal is to investigate, to see if there is anything amiss. But should you encounter any threat, you are to not engage and instead report back immediately.”

“My lord…” the knight began. The man permitted her to continue with a nod. “Are you sure that I am the best fit for this mission? My Boon is not exactly suited for much outside of combat. Would it not be better to give this task to my little sister instead?”

“That is a reasonable question. I would even agree that if it were my decision to make, her Boon of Diligence would indeed be the best choice. But it was not me that chose you for this task. Rather, consider this an order directly from the highest authority.”

It took her a moment to fully process that last sentence. He was the head of the High Pantheon’s Clergy. It had always been him that gave her orders and decided her next mission. There was only one human that she would consider higher in the chain of command” the current queen of their kingdom. But even she wasn’t the “highest” authority nor the type to give these kinds of orders anyway. So that only meant…

“By my name as Victoria Mendac!” She unsheathed her sword and plunged it into the snow as she knelt down once more. “By my title as the third daughter of the Kingdom of Mendac’s royal family, fifth in line for the throne! By my position as the Wrath of the High Pantheon! And by the blessed blood that runs in me as the descendant of King Emerson! I swear to deliver nothing short of the highest level of success in this holy mission!”

“Very good. You have been permitted a few days, as both time to rest from this last mission, and time to learn the details of this next mission. Once that is complete, you shall be taken to the Second South region so that you may go forth and keep to that sworn oath.”