I streaked past Claire’s pursuer. He raised his sword to block, but no ordinary metal could stop [Void Blade].

  My pitch-black sword sheared through his blade and his body without a whisper of resistance. Two halves of him hit the floor wetly, spilling blood all over my pristine furniture.

  Crash!

  The glass door to the balcony shattered as two more masked men smashed through it. I was on them before the shards of glass finished falling.

  I reversed my grip. The first man I beheaded instantly with a backhanded flash. The second was turning to run when I severed his leg at the thigh.

  I grabbed him by the collar as he collapsed, hauling him up.

  “How many?”

  “Ten… twenty… in my group. I don’t know how many total.” He blabbered incoherently, eyes rolling back.

  No real intel there. I smashed the pommel of my sword into his temple, knocking him out.

  A mercy. He’d bleed out soon enough.

  I returned to Claire and sat her down on my bed. “Do you know if everyone’s alright?”

  “No… I don’t know.” She bawled into her hands, her body racked with sobs. “That man just appeared out of nowhere with a sword and… I just ran.” Then she seemed to realize something and looked up, her teary eyes widening. “Jo… your face!”

  “It’s nothing…”

  I was about to tell her to stay, but the glint of the shards of broken glass stopped me.

  If they came in here directly, then my room was an objective. After all, to the outside world, I’m just a sheltered daughter. A soft target.

  More might come.

  I grabbed Claire’s hand and pulled the shaken girl along with me. “Follow me. It isn’t safe here.”

  My boots pounded against the polished floor.

  I needed to get to the other soft targets: Ben… Elise…

  Out in the hallway, two other intruders in black had their backs turned to us. These men weren’t dressed like the foreigners that had attacked Ben and me. No, they wore native Avatinian armor and carried straight swords. Their hair varied in style and color, instead of the uniformly straight, jet-black of the Orlinians.

  The two men must’ve been waiting for their comrade to finish off Claire, because they turned to me in surprise.

  But I was already on them. The first was mid-blink when my blade bisected his neck. The second took a pommel strike to the throat and sank to the ground as if his strings were cut.

  Claire stifled a scream behind me. Blood was still misting from the first kill. I didn’t like having my mask off in front of her—in front of any of them really—but we were in a hurry.

  I chained [Shadow Fingers] out in all directions.

  This was my House; I knew all the hiding places well.

  —

  “Stay away!”

  Beatrice yelled, fending off an assailant with a mop, shielding two maids cowering behind her. He swung his sword, shearing off the head of the mop. Before he could take a step closer, the tip of my sword erupted out of his stomach.

  Blood gushed from his mouth and he toppled to the ground.

  The sword retracted and I swung it the other way, cutting down a second intruder swinging his sword down at a fallen house guard.

  Whoomp!

  A column of energy streaked through the air, knocking another intruder off his feet just as I was about to greet his charge.

  A [Mana Bolt]?

  Mama had appeared from around the corner, her open palm raised. She was still dressed in her sheer sleeping gown.

  I was relieved by the sight of both her and Beatrice.

  “Is everyone alright?” I asked, looking over at the two younger maids behind Beatrice as I helped the guard off the ground. Neither of them was one of my girls.

  “Yes, we had everyone take shelter in the laundry room.” Beatrice gestured to the door behind her.

  I guided a still trembling Claire into the room. A weight came off my chest at the sight of Miona and Nellin huddled amongst the others. Seeing their fear-filled, tear-streaked faces stirred outrage in me.

  They’ll pay for this.

  I turned back to the hallway, where the four guards I had rallied on my way here were waiting. A couple of them were nursing fresh wounds, and one cradled a broken arm against his chest.

  That couldn't be helped now.

  “Stay and guard this room and everyone here. This wing should be clear, but be vigilant!” I ordered.

  They straightened instantly at my command, ignoring their pain. The shock cleared from their faces as all four of them stood at attention. “Yes, My Lady!”

  We had taken out sixteen intruders in total, and my [Shadow Fingers] hadn’t found any more of them around this section of the House. But I was taking no chances.

  Mama’s hand took hold of my chin and turned my face to the right, revealing my left cheek to her.

  “Did… Did they do this?” Her voice was ice cold.

  “No. This was something else. Please stay here, and watch over everyone.”

  I pulled away and ran straight into Beatrice’s arms.

  “Little Josephine, we can’t let you get hurt anymore.” She pressed my face tight against her chest, not letting me go.

  I reluctantly pushed her back. “Please, everyone’s in danger. They need my help! They don’t know what they’re up against.” I pleaded.

  As if to reinforce my words, an explosion rocked the frame of the building, shaking dust loose from the ceiling. A few of the maids screamed.

  Beatrice released me, her hands trembling.

  “I will be back. I promise.”

  I turned to leave, but a hand gripped my arm like a vice.

  “I’m coming with you.” Mama’s voice still chilled the room.

  —

  Mama threw on an overcoat, and we set off.

  As we moved toward the heart of the House, the sounds of sporadic fighting roiled around us. Explosions flashed through the windows; flames billowed from a guest cottage outside; a stone column crashed to the ground.

  It brought back memories: of walking through burning villages, the air choking with smoke and the stench of charred flesh, of stalking past scorched walls, seeing men hanging off the parapets—tattered banners falling to the ruined, blood stained stone.

  But this was where I was born anew.

  Here, I explored the unknown rooms with my shadows. Here, my laughter echoed against the grand ceilings as the maids chased after me. Here, I played pretend under the tablecloth with Ben.

  I had more of a childhood here, than in any of my other lifetimes.

  They dare desecrate these memories.

  The outrage within me seethed more, feeding the inferno searing my chest. My jaw muscles clenched tight.

  Mama glanced down at me, her eyebrows rising with concern. The ice in her eyes melted into deep pools, reflecting the flickering yellow flames.

  Words were at her lips when the clash of steel rang out ahead. She drew a sharp breath, and I sensed the magic gathering in her palm.

  I placed a hand on her arm. “Save your mana.”

  Pulling the hood of my shroud over my head, I waved the men forward. We had gathered over twenty of them from various isolated pockets of fighting that I had detoured to on the way here.

  They were all relieved to see me after the attackers were taken care of, the weary, broken looks on their face lifting instantly. Not one of them complained about a child taking charge, even though I was a complete mess—drenched in blood and guts.

  A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

  Perhaps the cookies helped.

  I dashed behind one attacker and sliced his hamstring, dropping him to his knees. Weaving between the others, my annihilating blade erased armor, tendons, and muscles. I crippled three in a single sweep and ended the motion by thrusting clean through the back of the last masked man.

  A knight cut down his opponent nearby. He quickly yanked off his helmet, revealing tight curls that bounced as he sank to one knee.

  “My Lady!”

  “Leon? What’s the situation?” I pried my sword free of the dead man, letting the body fall. The rest of our men were cleaning up. “Ben, Elise, and my father?”

  “Commander Winthrop is with Lord Ben, and the Captain has gone with a contingent of men to the Duchess. I…” His eyes roamed the hallway. There were only five men in his squad compared to the twenty I had gathered.

  “I had to… to check on you,” he admitted glumly.

  “It’s alright. They probably assumed I was still gone.” I pulled him to his feet. “But I need you to do something for me.”

  Using the point of my [Shadow Sword], I etched a rough sketch of the estate on the polished granite floor.

  “I want you to take these men along this route and hit whatever is here. I haven’t seen it myself, but I’m sure it’s their transports. Use your discretion.”

  “How did you… But no, My Lady, my place is by your side!”

  I placed a hand on his pauldron. “You are my knight. So, yes, my shield. But what I need now, from you and everyone here, is for you to be my sword.”

  I paused, my gaze sweeping over the men.

  “There has been a slight against this house.” I gestured to the fallen on the ground, ours and theirs. “And vengeance is due. Let none escape. I will be watching.”

  Fire lit up in Leon’s eyes. “My steel to your will!”

  His cry was echoed by the men.

  After they sprinted off, Mama stepped closer. “You’re a natural-born leader, Jo.”

  “No. That had been paid for by lifetimes of failure and blood.” This time, I didn’t have to fight to choke out the confession.

  A small solace.

  Mama dipped her head. “Your lead, My Lady.”

  —

  By the time we closed in on the open-air courtyard at the center of the House, I had gathered close to another ten knights and guards from various skirmishes. The sounds of the main battle clamored ahead of us, chaotic and deafening, but I knew the situation. I had done enough scouting with [Shadow Fingers] to build a mental top-down map of the battlefield, complete with real-time troop movements: both ours and theirs.

  The fog of war had been lifted.

  I led our hastily assembled group around the edge of the courtyard, and attacked a group of twenty enemies stationed at the back entrance. They appeared to be a reserve force, idling, waiting for a signal.

  What they were waiting for, I wasn’t sure, but their attention was focused solely on the fight raging between the two main forces in the courtyard.

  We slammed into their lines from the side. I led the way, a rolling whirlwind of death. My pitch-black greatsword annihilated everything in its arc, while my edged shadow-fabric lashed out like hooked scythes. All who stood in my way were shredded into ribbons of flesh and sheared armor.

  The rest of the men crashed into the scattered, panicked mob in my wake. One of our knights beheaded their leader, who was still fumbling to pick up his dropped sword after I passed.

  The entire unit was wiped out in seconds.

  I surveyed the path of carnage that I had carved out—a wide swath of blood and gore. Dots of soul light drifted toward me from all directions. I was glad no one could actually see them.

  But… even the goblin army on the first dungeon level had put up more of a fight.

  I suppose there’s no druidess to contend with. And I’m far more powerful now.

  Mama stared intensely at me, but there was no time to talk. The main battle raged onwards.

  We poured into the fight. Masked enemies turned to us in shock, like they had been expecting their relief forces from the entrance.

  Instead it was me—a vortex of spinning black blades shredding through their ranks.

  My sword split a black clad attacker in two. I shoved past the separating halves of his body and stepped into the center of the courtyard.

  There, my father, with his rapier and disheveled blue hair, faced off against a larger broad-chested man with a mane of red hair, hefting a massive greataxe.

  Father’s glasses had a sheen of dust. He was breathing hard, his chest heaving beneath his tattered silk shirt.

  He’s still in his bedclothes! It’s a wonder he wasn’t seriously injured.

  My eyes searched him for wounds. No blood, at least. The sudden tightness in my chest surprised me.

  The blade of his rapier was chipped and gouged, looking pitifully fragile against the axe. He shot a wary glance at the blood-drenched shadow approaching him.

  I threw back my hood. “Father, it’s me.”

  This is no time for formalities or past trauma.

  “It’s the Blue Flower!”

  “Our lady is here!”

  “She’s the angel of death. Fight, you idiots!”

  “Leave, Daughter! This isn’t the place for you,” the Duke snapped at me.

  The large red-haired man rumbled with laughter. “Listen to your father, girl. Else I’m gonna tear that cut on your face wide open.”

  “Come and try.”

  I pointed my sword at him as an explosion rocked the other entrance to the courtyard. Winthrop stepped forth from the smoke, Ben at his side, rapier in hand.

  “I think you and these men here are the last ones left.”

  He narrowed eyes, glaring at the entrance that I came in from. “Bah, imbecile humans. They only had to hold the path! No point holding back anymore. Everyone, let’s show them our true forms!”

  The man, no, the demon, threw back his head and roared. His body expanded violently, muscles shredding his clothes and bursting the plates of his armor. His teeth lengthened into fangs, and horns erupted from his forehead. He grew until he was twice my father’s height.

  This must be the Karnsar that the lich had mentioned.

  Fearful murmurs rippled through our men.

  “Monsters!”

  “Demons!”

  “What do we do?!”

  Nearby, a black-clad attacker began to convulse, entering his own transformation. I leaped, bringing my sword down in a wide arc, cleaving his head off as his horns were still sprouting.

  “Kill them!” I shouted as the head hit the ground. “They bleed if you cut them!”

  “Get her!” Karnsar bellowed. The ground shook as he thundered toward me.

  Two fully transformed, hulking minotaurs joined the stampede. A knight tried to intercept the first one, but the beast barreled into him, sending him flying in a clatter of plate and dust.

  I sidestepped the other minotaur as he lowered his horns to gore me. My blade drew a line through the thick muscle of his thigh as he charged past.

  A fountain of blood sprayed into the air. His leg came apart. He stumbled, crashing face-first into the stone. I jumped onto his wide back, drove my sword through his spine, and opened him up, releasing points of light from his soul.

  Crack!

  The greataxe slammed into the rapier. Father angled to deflect, the already battered blade shattered, sending shards of steel flying. He was hurled backward, his boots carving deep grooves into the courtyard gravel.

  “Weak!” Karnsar roared. “You are as brittle as your steel, Prince of Ice!”

  His muscles bulged. Magic swirled around him, the currents flowing into his body. He drew breath to shout the words.

  A skill!

  I yanked my hood up and dove into his shadow.

  Surging back up next to him, I jumped, swinging my sword upwards.

  He blocked.

  The impact was enough to break his concentration and stop the activation.

  My void blade bit into his axe, but not through it.

  Looks like he has a good weapon.

  He shoved me back, hard, sending me flying. Raising his weapon, he stared incredulously at the notch in his axe head. “You bitch! You damaged Bone Splitter!”

  He thrust a clawed finger at me.

  “I’ll incinerate your soul. Flame Blade! Inferno Visage!”

  He shouted the words, and two skills seemed to activate in quick succession. Thrashing tendrils of fire enveloped both his body and weapon.

  Is that some special skill like [Multi Cast]?

  “Ice Barrage!”

  My father stepped in with a skill of his own. A jagged icicle formed over the remains of his broken rapier, extending its length as he unleashed a blur of thrusts at the massive demon.

  Ice collided with the flames, and I looked past the spectacle, focusing instead on the fighters, on the way the flow of magic interacted with the movement of their muscles.

  After all the fighting in the dungeon, I had gotten a sense of the rhythm of these skills. A pattern had emerged: the way magic fed into bodies to produce their effects, speed, and power.

  I was starting to develop an intrinsic feel for it.

  I suppose it is a game.

  Father’s technique was precise and targeted, his body moving at a steady, controlled tempo that was mirrored by the flow of magic for his skills. Karnsar’s movements were manic, wild, the flow of his skills matching that chaos and raw power.

  The demon had the upper hand. Not through prowess, but through the sheer base stats of his massive body.

  CRACK!

  The ice shattered. Father was thrown back again, his rapier finally reduced to a bare hilt.

  That, and the difference in weapon quality.

  I tried to identify the demon to see his stats:

  Pretty much all blanks. He’s out of range, even at my level. And this was a minor demon?!

  All around us, our men were being overwhelmed. They weren’t adventurers. They never fought monstrosities that towered over them, snapping spears and swords like dried twigs, or faced winged imps that flew out of reach of polearms, or serpents with scales so hard that their blades bounced off of them.

  Even Winthrop and Mama were having issues hitting the monsters with their magic bolts and streaks of lightning.

  It reminded me of the ambush where our entire party was outclassed. I needed to turn this around before we suffered more casualties.

  I mentally opened up my inventory. [Lightning Serpent] coalesced in my hand and I tossed it hilt-first at my father.

  He reflexively snatched it out of the air.

  “Daughter, this…”

  “Take it. Buy me time.”

  Karnsar’s axe drew a wave of flames in the air, sending it surging toward me.

  A streak of white frost, wreathed in crackling lightning, intercepted the fire. The blur of motion halted, snapping into the figure of my father, his lunge driving the new blade forward.

  Ice and arcs of electricity collided with the demonic fire. Ignoring the flashing lights, I focused on forming the spiral structure of [Dazzle].

  Using my top-down mental map, I locked onto all hostiles in the courtyard.

  Twenty-three targets.

  The pull on my Mana was strong as I channeled the spell, and I knew the cost would be high. But it had to be done.

  No more wasted lives.

  The spell completed, and the Mana indicator blinked as the value dropped precipitously.

  An unseen wave spread over the battlefield. Monsters of all shapes and sizes stood still. Minotaurs slowly turned to me, their eyes glazed over, hammers and axes clattering against the gravel. Imps wobbled in circles, some spiraling down to the ground.

  Karnsar predictably resisted. He tried to force a path to me, but Father’s ice and lightning blocked the way.

  To seal the victory, I called upon the ability that the past me had used so often: [Divine Guidance]. My teeth grated as I invoked His name once more.

  “Dieu, guide-nous!”

  God, guide us.