Chương 1: [BL] 1. New World [1]

'If you're reading this, then let me apologise. I'm dead, and your soul currently inhabits my body. The reason this happened is that I performed a desperate ritual to do the honourable thing. Again, I apologise. But please... you're our only hope now. In front of you is a lantern. A lantern that only you can bond with. This lantern, and you will be one of the pillars that keep Sheran village standing in this apocalypse cycle. I know this is selfish, but I—we don't have a choice.

For further instructions, please summon the Guidance Spirit.' How should one act upon discovering such a letter? True to its content, Willow found herself inside a dark room where a ritual altar made of gloomy black stone stood just in front of her. A lantern rested on the altar's surface, a brass lantern with square glass panels. Something slithered inside the glass. Something invisible, but on second look, only darkness lingered. Willow blinked, wondering if she was hallucinating.

She found a letter right beside it. Not just the letter, but also a dagger that had fallen by the altar leg, covered in red blood. Taking a deep breath, Willow pressed her hand to her breast, where blood marred her flesh. When she brought her hand up, the sticky blood sent an intense metallic smell to her nose, and Willow winced. Her heart beat against her rib cage. Sweat ran through her hair and onto her neck. Yellow strands, almost golden, bunched around her shoulders.

Her breath stilled at the sight of the golden hair. Her hair had been black. Right? It had… She had gone to sleep peacefully in her dorm room, and then...

"Okay..." She breathed.

"Calm down, calm—" She looked around. Willow knelt above a slightly elevated stone ground, separated by five shallow steps leading to an open space. Along the wall, she could see dark stone doors. Another door opposite her loomed above a fenced gallery, accessible by the two stairs that hugged the room's side. Eerily, the circular ritual altar shone by firelight hung by braziers beside each door, splaying red across the sleek stones.

"Anyone?" She hesitantly called out. Her voice echoed three times, and her body froze at each echo. Maybe not smart. Slowly, Willow felt around her body, especially the spot where she had bled. Her clothes were a strange padded jacket, as if it were meant for winter. A leather belt slung around her hip, and a real sword hung there. Willow jerked upward, and the end of the sheathed sword clanged, sending a loud thud reverberating. She drew a sharp breath.

The cave's musky air pressed her lungs; it took Willow three inhales before it became easier. Worn above the padded jacket was an apron held together by her leather belt. Willow stared at it, at the symbol of giant trees trapped in a rectangular knitting pattern right in the middle of the apron.

"Probably not an apron," Willow mumbled. Whoever this was, she was clearly a fighter. So what kind of madness was happening here? Did she really just take over someone else's body? She could move this body well enough at least. With hesitant courage, Willow reached out to touch the wound where the padded jacket had been sliced open, along with a small part of the apron. She wiped the blood away and felt flesh underneath. Relief flooded her.

There was no way for Willow to clean the blood now; but at least there were no wounds.

"For now, let's see..." She huffed, snatching the letter. After reading it over again, she scowled deeply, glaring at the letter. Apocalypse? Apocalypse! Also, a desperate ritual? Who was this idiot? She tucked the letter into her leather belt and walked around the altar. Like hell she was going to touch the lantern. But she was also not brave enough to walk through one of those doors. After ten minutes of absolute silence and darkness, she had had enough.

"Guidance Spirit?" Name: Willow Class: [Guard—Level 1] Rune: Attribute: [3 Strength, 1 Dexterity, 3 Vitality, 2 Constitution, 2 Sense, 1 Arcanic] Spell: Enhancer: [Guard Honour] [3 Strength, 1 Dexterity, 3 Vitality, 2 Constitution, 2 Sense, 1 Arcanic]"Ah!" Pain sizzled through her like a hot knife cutting through her mind. She collapsed on one knee, steadying her body with her left hand, whilst her right hand clutched her forehead.

Her golden hair ruffled around her shoulders, and each breath left her with a scorching heat running from her shoulders to her neck. Memories came to her. Not just memories, but also something else. -- A memory of a young girl following her father, a village guard in a time of peace. Nothing threatened the village, as the Apocalypse Cycle only happened once every two hundred years—the next cycle would be in ten years. At that time, the girl was only nine years old. She admired her father.

Yet whispers followed them every time they walked through the village. Whispers about how the guards were weak and would not be able to protect them during the apocalypse, and how the chief should consider hiring those barbarian mercenaries and offering them staggering wealth. The girl hated this. Giving wealth to a foreigner who fought only for money? Why? Especially when her father would protect them!

By fifteen, the girl wanted to get a [Guard] Class stone, yet the village had sold most of the stones they got from the Hollow Knight Rift. They used that money to hire mercenaries, even offering permanent residency after the Apocalypse. She was enraged, of course. By nineteen, she still held no Class. She was supposed to be standing above the Sheran wall with her father!

The Apocalypse Cycle was about to start in a matter of days, so she and her friends, who shared her feelings, managed to convince their peers who received Class stones because of their fighting superiority. Together, they snuck into a rift to get their own Class stones. It was a disaster. Out of thirty, only ten survived. Five class holders died. Jon, Thorne, Lysa, Ian, Eva... and many more. The results of their raid were only two [Guard] Class stones, one of which she got.

The Knight in Black killed her friends, and she swore to get back to the rift one day. She awakened the [Guard] Class. Now she could stand with her father. She could be someone her sister looked up to. Then a rift appeared very near the village. One of her friends, afraid of being punished by the villagers, recommended a plan to say that these monsters had appeared out of nowhere and ambushed them. She also feared what her father would think, so she supported this.

They intended to just peek inside so they knew what monsters lived there. Until the vile liches drove them further into the rift. No one could hit the liches, as the surviving class holder was not a rune holder. Not a magic user. Even Jenna had to sacrifice herself so the others could run. Oh, Jenna… she must also have felt responsible, like she did. So they ran further and stumbled upon a strange altar that only accepted one person.

The altar promised incredible power, but only with sacrifice, as sacrifice was the source of runes for the liches. Of course, she entered first, for she had supported the plan. The altar laughed at her when she was inside this dark chamber. The altar said she could survive, but she would probably die; in exchange, one of the soul stars would be pulled here instead of the capital. This would strengthen the village. In the end, she wrote a heartfelt message.

The last thing she did was laugh, because in the end, she died for outsider power and hoped whoever it was would save her dear village and family. She kissed Dorian before entering. She apologised to him that they would never get married. She wrote to her father and sister and tucked the letter inside her belt, hoping the stranger would do the honour of at least giving it to Dorian. There was still much more she was looking for. But she decided her journey ended here to give a start to someone else's.

Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there. -- Willow let the pain of the memory dissipate from her mind. She stayed silent. Still kneeling. Tipping her head up, she breathed deeply, letting her mind settle. The girl was a fool.

"Who are you?" Willow asked the darkness. She furrowed her brow, brooding, and got her name.

"Mera." The first thing she would do was find her father. Something else flowed inside her body. [Guard Honour]. [Guard Honour]—A guard's greatest honour is to protect. When there's something to protect, a guard's weapon becomes stronger. Their armour becomes stouter. Their resolve becomes like steel. +10% Attributes when Guard Honour is activated. In the memory, all Willow saw were flashes. Flashes that only showed Mera's life. She did not understand the details of life through her eyes.

So this faded blue text that hung across her vision made her backpedal, almost tripping on the steps. Her back slammed against the stone wall, and the brazier hung above her, bristling with fire and shining with ember light that showcased the blue letters in brighter light. Willow sputtered a laugh. She slid down and bunched her knees up, hugging them and resting her head on them.

"What the hell," she muttered, her voice muffled. She hoped someone would come in, a human, preferably not a lich. But nothing came, and time stretched as Willow just sat there. She thought back on her own life. Willow did not have big aspirations like Mera. Growing up without knowing her parents, she was spared from that. Yet it was dull, like a monotone. Like she was stuck in an endless silence. Willow raised her head again and found herself walking toward the lantern. She stepped onto the raised platform.

[Consume Nocturn Lantern?] [Yes/No] Here goes nothing.

"Yes." Name: Willow Class: [Guard—Level 1] [Wind Mage—Level 1] Rune: [Dark Wind 5/5] Spell: Scythe [2] Dismember [4] Enhancer: [Guard Honour] [3 Strength, 1 Dexterity, 3 Vitality, 2 Constitution, 2 Sense, 1 Arcanic] [Ravenous Wind] [1 Strength, 2 Dexterity, 2 Vitality, 2 Constitution, 3 Sense, 10 Arcanic, 5 Dark Wind Rune] [Ravenous Wind]—The dark eyes have seen you and grant you the wind.

Hunger is a terrible thing, yet it can also be a thing of beauty, as one could stuff oneself with a plethora of pleasures if one could not get full. The ravenous wind always desires more; there is no such thing as 'enough' for something so hungry. Recover one Dark Wind Rune every time a foe is felled with a spell cast through the Dark Wind Rune. Enhance Dark Wind Rune damage by 20% for each Rune used in a single combat.

"Okay?" Very game-like. Maybe she was currently dreaming. [Current Outfit: Guard] [Sheran Village Guard's Uniform] [+5% All Attributes] [Switch Class to Wind Mage and Adorn Mage Outfit?] [Yes/No]"Sure? I mean. Yes." Light brimmed across Willow's guard outfit. She became a sudden light source in the darkness. The guard outfit mended itself with golden light, and the fabric wove itself into a long blue coat that draped over her arms and legs, acting like a capelet around her upper body and tied with a ribbon.

Underneath, a fitted tunic clung to her figure, fastened with a belt around her hip. White, silver-like embroidery ran along the coat, signifying the flow of wind.

[Wind Mage Outfit] [+100% Runes, +50% Arcanic, -50% Rune Cost] Rune: [Dark Wind 5/5] [+100% Runes] Spell: Scythe [2] [50% Rune Cost] Dismember [4] [50% Rune Cost] Name: Willow [Wind Mage] Class: [Wind Mage—Level 1] Outfit: [Wind Mage Outfit] Rune: [Dark Wind 5/5] +100% Attribute: [1 Strength, 2 Dexterity, 2 Vitality, 2 Constitution, 3 Sense, 10 Arcanic, 5 Dark Wind Rune] Spell: Scythe [2] -50% Dismember [4] -50% Enhancer: [Ravenous Wind] The sword somehow remained attached to her new belt.

Willow stood still for a brief moment, taking everything in. Wherever this was, or whatever this was…

"Magic, it's magic," Willow mumbled to herself. And decided for now she would be content with that until she knew more. A strange excitement drummed inside her despite her current predicament, which involved her being caught in what appeared to be a world of magic. She liked this mage outfit; it felt cool against her body, and she tried to swirl it around. Wind responded, and the cloak rippled like a flag around her hips. Her hair hovered upward, and a small spiral twisted around her. Pretty cool.

Willow laughed, stepping down from the altar steps. She paused for a bit. Strange. This excitement... Was it Mera's feeling? The girl was very, very eager to gain power, and this lantern... She looked behind, only to realise the lantern had just freaking disappeared into thin air. Smoothing down her new outfit, she pinched its fabric, making sure it was real. Y ou're not just going to disappear and leave me naked, right? She wondered. The clothes, after all, just appeared out of nowhere.

With nothing left to do here anymore. She had to brave herself, eventually. Might as well do it now. Deciding to trust in the strange magic to keep her clothes around her body, Willow was resolute to leave.

"All right." She pumped a fist. Before that, her eyes glazed over the spells. So… also Magic? Based on Spell and Enhancer being separated, she assumed Spell functioned as the active one, like in games. Might as well try them. She tried to tap into [Scythe]. Information flowed into her; brief knowledge passed to her. Willow lifted two fingers, and wind stirred at her command, gathering into a small swirl of darkness at her fingertips.

The dark wind was violent and turbulent; it sought anything that threatened Willow. Her senses pricked. Suddenly, she heard footsteps coming from the nearest door. The dark wind brimmed with excitement.

"What is it?" Willow turned fully toward the door. Her left hand found itself on the hilt of her sword before she blushed. What was she supposed to do? Wield a sword left-handed? I probably will cut my own foot. She should have cast Scythe with her left hand earlier. The doorknob lowered, and the door opened, revealing a tall figure twice Willow's size. Its face was pale, with strained black veins running across it like crumpled paper.

Similar sickly pale skin peeked through the red cloak that barely covered its body. The creature's bony arms barely held any flesh. In those arms, it carried a crystal orb that shone with a dim white light. The creature recognized Willow and opened its mouth. A lich. Anger rose inside Willow like a sudden inferno. Mera's emotion boiled over. With no hesitation or doubt, Willow swept her fingers forward.

Dark wind cried in jubilation, and it shot out as a single blade of wind, tearing through the robe and shearing apart the lich's pale body. Green blood spurted as the deep wound lacerated into the pale monster. Willow, however, was far from done. She cast two Scythes with both hands and sliced them downward. Two keening winds streaked forward. One carved through the lich's stomach and ripped upward, almost severing the monster's arm and leaving it dangling.

The other slit the creature's throat, crumpling it to the ground. Jade-like blood pooled beneath the monster when it hit the floor. [You Recovered One Dark Wind Rune] A sense of satisfaction filled her, and it tasted like a sweet mango juice in scorching summer. I shouldn't wait any longer. According to Mera's memory, there is probably more than one of these monsters. After she hastily tucked the bloody dagger to her belt, she jumped over the lich's body and walked down a hallway with eager steps.

It was dark, and Willow drew in the musky air as she kept her hand to the coarse wall. Her instinct and sanity screamed at her to go back—they screamed What the hell are you doing? But Willow kept going. Soon, she reached the end of the hallway onto a ledge, and beyond, the space expanded into an enormous cavern where a waterfall drenched from the darkness high above into a pool; atop the pool, a small rocky island connected by a bridge led to further land. She spotted prison cells beyond it and movement as well.

A young woman cried as two liches forced her along, dragging her, each gripping one of her shoulders and lifting her with their tall bodies as they crossed the bridge. Five other liches waited. One of them held a tall staff topped with a skull. It stood just behind a new ritual altar. This time, it was a table, and contraptions designed to hold limbs were built atop it. A ritual. A sacrifice ritual. Yes, maybe I should sleep this one out.