As the Vengeful One stood poised over the broken creature, spear trembling in her grip, the voice echoed softly in her mind. It wasn't the commanding, godlike tone she'd expected. Instead, it was weak, trembling, and filled with an unbearable sadness.
"What... what did I ever do wrong?"
Her breath caught, the spear faltering mid-air. The words were simple, but they carried a weight that pierced through the haze of her fury. The beast's sulfurous eyes, once blazing with rage, now seemed dim, almost pleading. Its massive form trembled as it tried to lift its head, but it collapsed back onto the dirt with a shuddering exhale.
For a moment, the battlefield fell deathly silent, save for the faint, labored breaths of the Umbra Wyrm. The voice spoke again, quieter now, almost a whisper.
"I only wanted to survive... to exist. Why must I be punished for what I am?"
Her fingers tightened around the spear, her lips parting as if to answer, but no words came. For the first time in the battle, she hesitated. What did it do wrong? The question echoed in her mind, its simplicity carving through her resolve like a blade.
The beast's body trembled, its once-mighty frame reduced to little more than a shadow of its former strength. Blood pooled beneath it, and its breath hitched, ragged and uneven. Yet, in its fading defiance, there was no hatred—only a sorrowful question that lingered in the air, unanswered.
The Vengeful One stood motionless, the jagged tip of her spear hovering above the Umbra Wyrm's exposed, trembling form. Her crimson eyes narrowed, her lips pressing into a tight line as her grip on the weapon tightened. The beast's ragged breathing filled the air, a sound that echoed its pain and resignation.
Just as she began to raise the spear, Great Sage's calm, analytical voice resonated in her mind.
"Analysis complete. The creature's testimony, alongside today's events, are highly plausible. It appears that the Umbra Wyrm's actions were not born of malice but necessity. Moreover, your actions today mirror those of its past oppressors. You sought it out solely as a prize, no different from those who came before. In this regard, I cannot confirm whether it is the monster you perceive it to be—or whether that title belongs elsewhere."
The spear faltered in her grip, her breath hitching as the words settled in her mind. Her crimson eyes softened slightly, her lips parting in surprise before twisting into a small, dry chuckle.
"I know, Sage," she said aloud, her voice laced with an unsettling mix of humor and exhaustion. "I was going to stop. I just wanted to see if you would interject. And you didn't disappoint."
She let the spear dissolve, the dark energy dissipating into the air like smoke. Her expression shifted, the sharpness fading as she crouched down beside the Umbra Wyrm, her crimson gaze locking onto its weary, dimmed eyes.
"I owe you an apology," she said softly, her voice void of its usual edge. Her fingers hovered over the beast's wounds, her aura shifting as she began to channel a healing spell. Shadowy energy flowed from her hands, weaving through the cracks in its scales, the wounds knitting themselves together with a faint glow.
The Umbra Wyrm flinched slightly at first, its massive form trembling under her touch. But as the warmth of her healing spell coursed through it, the tension eased, its labored breathing growing steadier.
"You're right," she admitted, her voice quieter now. "I came here to hunt you. To claim you as a prize. Not because you threatened me, not because you deserved it, but because I could."
Her hands moved to another wound, her spell continuing to work its magic as the beast's strength slowly began to return.
"I've made a habit of being decisive. Of seeing the world in black and white. But you've reminded me that things aren't so simple. You're no monster, Umbra Wyrm. And today, I was no queen. I was... like them."
The beast's sulfurous eyes blinked slowly, its gaze fixed on her as though trying to understand her words. She let out a faint chuckle, her lips curling into a wry smile as she shook her head.
"I'm sorry," she said sincerely, her crimson eyes softening. "For what they did to you. For what I almost did to you. You deserved better than all of this."
The final wound closed, the shimmering light fading as her hands dropped to her sides. She stood, brushing the dirt from her knees, and looked down at the creature with an expression that was almost tender.
The Vengeful One stood before the Umbra Wyrm, the echoes of their brutal battle still lingering in the air. She bowed her head, the weight of her actions pressing heavily on her shoulders. For a moment, she was silent, her crimson eyes closed as she composed herself.
"I owe you more than healing," she said softly, her voice steady yet tinged with regret. "I owe you an apology—not just for today but for everything that brought us to this point. I am sorry."
The Umbra Wyrm regarded her with its sulfurous eyes, the dim light within them flickering faintly. It shifted slightly, its massive, battered form still radiating an aura of strength, though tempered now with exhaustion. When it finally spoke, its voice resonated deeply in her mind, low and rumbling like the echoes of a distant storm.
"An apology... from one who has power? That is a rarity."
She lifted her gaze to meet its eyes, her expression open and earnest. "I am not beyond reproach," she admitted. "I came here blinded by arrogance, seeking to take you down as if it were some sport. It wasn't right. I see that now. But... it mirrors what they did to you, doesn't it?"
The Umbra Wyrm let out a low, sorrowful growl. "It does. You came not for hatred, but for conquest. As they did. For centuries, they sought me out, climbing my mountains, invading my home. Not because I threatened them, but because I existed. Because I was a challenge. A prize. A legend."
It shifted its head slightly, resting it on the ground as though the weight of its memories was too much to bear. "Do you know what it is like to live in peace, only to have that peace shattered again and again? To watch them take from you, burn your hunting grounds, poison your streams, and then cry foul when you defend yourself?"
She frowned, her fists clenching at her sides. "They came to you first. Every time. And when you fought back, they called you a monster. Is that it?"
The beast nodded slowly, its glowing eyes narrowing. "Every village burned, every life lost, was a result of their greed. When they cut down the forests, I hunted their livestock. When they poisoned the rivers, I sought water from their wells. And when they brought their armies to my den, I defended myself. Yet, they called me a terror."
Her lips pressed into a thin line as she listened, the weight of its words settling heavily in her chest. "I know what it is to be hated for what you are," she said after a moment. "To be feared, even when you mean no harm. But I became what they feared because it served me. You... you only ever wanted to live."
The Umbra Wyrm rumbled softly, its tone carrying both sorrow and a faint hint of gratitude. "Yes. I wanted to live. To protect my own. But they never allowed it. Even when I withdrew, hiding deeper into these mountains, they came. They always came."
She took a deep breath, her gaze never wavering from the creature's massive form. "And what happened to your young? You said they took them. Paraded them. What became of them?"
The beast's growl deepened, a flicker of rage flashing through its eyes. "Bones. When I reached them, all that remained were bones. My fury consumed me then. I burned their village, their fields, their people. It was not justice—it was vengeance. And yet, I would do it again. Not out of hatred, but for the memory of my young. For what they took from me."
Her head dipped slightly, a faint grimace crossing her face as she absorbed the truth. "I would have done the same," she admitted quietly. "To protect what little was mine. To avenge what was stolen."
The Umbra Wyrm regarded her with a long, contemplative silence before speaking again. "Then you understand why I ask—what did I ever do wrong? I defended myself, my home, my family. And for that, I was hunted, and vilified. Why must I always be the monster?"
She met its gaze, her crimson eyes steady as she crouched down to its level. "You're not the monster. Not to me. Not anymore. You were made one because it suited their narrative. Just as I did. Just as anyone who wants to be famous does."
The beast rumbled softly, its massive form seeming to relax slightly. "And you... What will you do now, Dark Messiah? Will you leave me in peace, or will you join the long line of those who sought to destroy me?"
She stood slowly, her shadowy aura flickering faintly around her. "I'll do neither," she said, her voice firm. "I'll leave you as you are, free to live as you will. But know this—if anyone dares come for you again, they'll answer to me. You've suffered enough. That ends now."
The Umbra Wyrm inclined its massive head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment. "Then perhaps there is hope for you yet, Dark Messiah. Perhaps you are not like them after all."
She smirked faintly, her lips curving into a shadow of her usual grin. "Oh, I'm worse," she said, turning to leave. "But even I know when to let someone live. You've earned that much."
As she walked away, the beast's voice echoed softly in her mind one last time. "Thank you."
She paused briefly, glancing over her shoulder. "Don't thank me yet. Just live, beast. That's enough." And with that, she disappeared into the shadows, leaving the creature to finally rest in peace.
The Vengeful One hadn't taken more than a dozen steps away from the Umbra Wyrm when a searing, white-hot pain exploded in her chest. She gasped, her knees buckling beneath her as she crumpled to the ground, clawing at the dirt with trembling hands. Her vision blurred, and her breath hitched, ragged and shallow as her body convulsed.
"What... what is this?!" she screamed, her voice breaking as the pain roared through her veins like wildfire. Her crimson eyes snapped shut, tears streaming down her face as the agony reached a crescendo, her body writhing against the relentless assault.
Great Sage's calm voice chimed in, a maddening contrast to her anguish. "The effects of Hunt's Euphoria are returning, my Lady. The skill's suppression was temporary, triggered by your subconscious registering the hunt as complete. However, because the kill was never made, the system has recognized the hunt as ongoing."
Her scream tore through the mountains, primal and guttural, as her nails dug into the earth beneath her. "I didn't—AGHH—kill it because I had no reason to! I ended the hunt! I spared it! Why does this damn thing care?!"
"The skill was designed to push the Dark Messiah to fulfill the hunt's objective," Sage explained, its tone still neutral. "In this case, the objective was the kill. Without that, the hunt remains incomplete. The skill cannot differentiate between mercy and failure."
Her teeth clenched so hard it felt as if her jaw might shatter. "Turn it off! Shut it down, Sage! I can't—I can't do this again!" she cried, her voice breaking under the weight of the torment. She rolled onto her side, her body curling into itself as if to contain the pain radiating from every nerve.
"I cannot," Sage replied simply. "The skill cannot be deactivated once initiated. Its effects will persist until the hunt is conclusively ended."
She let out a strangled laugh, half-mad and drenched in despair, as she slammed a fist into the ground. "You're telling me—AGHH—I either kill that thing or live like this forever?!"
"That is correct, my Lady," Sage confirmed.
Her body arched off the ground as another wave of pain wracked through her, her crimson aura flaring uncontrollably. Her mind felt like it was splitting in two, the relentless need to complete the hunt battling with her rationality.
"I won't kill it! I won't!" she snarled, tears of frustration streaming down her face as she pounded her fists into the dirt. "It doesn't deserve this! It's not a monster—I'm not a monster! Turn it off, Sage! Find a way! Please!"
But Sage's response remained calm and unyielding. "There is no alternative, my Lady. The skill was created to enforce the completion of a hunt. Mercy is not accounted for in its parameters."
Her screams echoed through the mountains again, blending with the distant rumble of the Umbra Wyrm's faint growls as it stirred, sensing her agony. The beast's sulfurous eyes watched her trembling form from a distance, its massive body shifting uneasily.
The Vengeful One lay curled in the dirt, her body trembling as the fire of Hunt's Euphoria raged within her. Every beat of her heart felt like an explosion, every breath like a battle against the flames consuming her. The relentless agony of Hunt's Euphoria burned through her veins, her body writhing on the ground as she fought to keep her will intact. But then, amidst the haze of her torment, a radiant golden light pierced through the darkness, enveloping her in a warmth that was both foreign and familiar. It shimmered and pulsed like the heartbeat of a star, and she forced herself to look up, her bloodied eyes narrowing against the brilliance.
Standing before her was a towering figure cloaked in golden and crimson light. His form was imposing, yet regal—muscles honed like forged steel, his body clad in intricately carved golden armor that shimmered with faint runes of power. A crimson sash was draped across his chest, its edges frayed like it had seen countless battles. His face was rugged yet noble, his piercing golden eyes framed by short-cropped dark hair streaked with fiery red highlights that seemed to glow faintly in the light. At his hip rested a gleaming longsword, its hilt shaped like the wings of a phoenix, and around him hung an aura of undeniable authority and discipline.
This was Kaelvar, God of War, the deity most revered in Ravenmoore. He crouched beside her, his golden gaze steady and unyielding as it met her pained expression.
"Are you sure?" His voice was deep, resonant, and calm, cutting through the haze of her torment like a blade. "Are you sure you want to spare that beast? You know what it has cost you, and what it may yet cost."
She forced herself to meet his gaze, her body trembling as every word took effort. "I'm sure," she rasped, her voice hoarse. "It's not a monster... it was only defending itself. I won't kill something that doesn't deserve it."
Kaelvar tilted his head slightly, his expression unreadable. "Even when the world would call it a monster? Even when mercy could make you appear weak in the eyes of those who follow you?"
She let out a weak, bitter chuckle, her lips curling into a smirk despite the pain. "Let them think what they want. Mercy isn't weakness. If anything, it's harder than killing."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips, and he nodded slowly. "You speak like one who knows battle, yet sees beyond it. Rare for someone of your power."
He stood then, the light around him flaring brighter as he glanced toward the distant Umbra Wyrm, still watching from afar. "Do you know what it truly means to hunt? Not to kill, but to hunt?"
Through the fog of pain, she managed a faint shake of her head. "Enlighten me... since I'm not going anywhere right now."
Kaelvar's gaze returned to her, his golden eyes sharp but warm. "To hunt is not to conquer. It is not to take life without purpose. To hunt is to understand your prey, to respect its strength and cunning, to match its will with your own. The act of hunting is a test—not just of power, but of restraint, wisdom, and respect. A true hunt is only complete when the balance is upheld. When you kill without necessity, you upset that balance."
She blinked, his words slowly sinking in as the pain seemed to dull just slightly under the weight of his voice.
"Today, you proved you understand that balance," Kaelvar continued, his tone unwavering. "You saw beyond your instincts, beyond your skill, and made a choice rooted in more than power. For that, you have earned my favor—this once."
He extended a hand, his palm glowing faintly with golden light. A warmth spread through her body, chasing away the burning pain of Hunt's Euphoria. Her breath steadied, and the trembling in her limbs ceased as the fire coursing through her veins was extinguished.
"But," he said sharply, his tone firm, "this is a one-time gift. A token of my respect for your choice. The next time you embark on a hunt, you must be prepared to finish it. Mercy is not always the path, and hesitation in the face of necessity will destroy you. Do you understand?"
She sat up slowly, her crimson eyes locking with his golden gaze. A wry grin tugged at her lips as she rolled her shoulders, testing the renewed strength in her body. "Understood. And for what it's worth... thanks."
Kaelvar gave her a faint smirk, his presence beginning to fade as the golden light around him dimmed. "Don't make me regret it, Dark Messiah. Remember, strength is not just in your power but in your decisions. Use it wisely."
And with that, the light disappeared, leaving her alone once more on the battlefield, her body healed and her mind clear. She looked toward the Umbra Wyrm in the distance, its faint growl carrying on the wind, and let out a long, steady breath.
"Balance, huh?" she muttered to herself, standing and brushing the dirt from her armor. "Guess I'll have to work on that."