Chapter 25: Divine Mechanics

  The whole situation was a little odd. Lily sat on the fallen tree trunk and ate the large grilled leg in her hands. It tasted really good and had a strong, meaty flavor she couldn’t quite place. She had bought it earlier when walking back from the auction hall to her suite in the Golden Swan Inn, and she was still glad that her inventory worked exactly like in Xantia, because time stopped inside. The food was just as fresh and warm as when she’d packed it.

  She didn’t really know why she had decided to sit down and eat with the cultists. Maybe it was exhaustion, maybe habit, or maybe just the need to not be alone for a while. After a day like this, she didn’t want silence.

  The clearing by the lake, the soft light of the [Campfire Stone], the reflection of the stars on the water, and the glow of the red and blue flowers gave the place a calm, almost nostalgic mood. She had never gone camping in her life back on Earth, but she remembered quiet nights with her guild in Xantia. After a long raid, they would sometimes find a quiet spot somewhere in the game world—a mountain ledge, a beach, or a forest clearing—and set up camp just for themselves. They would sit around the digital fire, talking about loot, stories, and everyday things, while they watched the sunrise over the rendered landscape. Xantia had felt real on so many levels back then, but it was still nothing like the real thing.

  Now, sitting here by a real fire, she realized how close those moments had been to this one. The cool air on her skin, the warmth of the flames, and the sound of the lake beside her were overwhelming in their reality. The stars above were not pixels, and the grass beneath her was not code. Yet the feeling was the same. It was nostalgia, quiet and bittersweet, and it reminded her how much she had loved those nights, even if they had only existed in a virtual world.

  It wasn’t the same, but it was close enough to make her chest ache.

  Damn it, she thought. If the others could see me now, they’d lose their minds. The Demon Princess sitting at a campfire with a bunch of moronic cultists… what a sight.

  She took another bite of meat, slower this time, and stared into the flames. The warmth felt good. For the first time that day, she wasn’t acting rationally, not that she had been rational at any point anyway. She just let things happen, because she was tired. Tired in a way that went deeper than her body. And maybe she was a little lonely, too.

  Lily watched the cultists take food for themselves and sit down around the fire. At first, they moved carefully, picking at the food as if afraid it might disappear. Then hunger took over, and they began to eat faster, almost like starved animals. The tall man was the first to move, the one who broke the ice. Watching them, Lily realized she still didn’t even know all their names. She knew Sevrin and Marie, of course, but the others were still strangers to her.

  Maybe it was about time to ask them a few things.

  Also, she found it strange—and almost unsettling—that she had started to like them, at least a little. They weren’t good people. They had killed her. She remembered the merchant’s house, the blood everywhere, and the traces of the people who had lived there. And the biggest problem was that they were complete idiots. Totally incompetent, and she really doubted they would have survived another month if they hadn’t somehow succeeded in summoning her. But then she also remembered Marie, sitting alone in the dark chamber of the auction hall, trembling like a trapped animal. It was hard to keep her judgment clear when she saw that kind of fear up close.

  Also, except for the tall one, they all looked younger than her. Still, for her own conscience, she needed to clarify a few things. And there were other questions that had been bothering her since the morning.

  Lily finished the meat and tossed the bone behind her. As a side note, she thought, how did I even eat that whole thing? Normally I can’t finish a single meal. She stifled a yawn and leaned back slightly, her ember-red eyes gliding over the group.

  Everyone froze again, no one daring to speak.

  Lily thought for a moment about how to handle it best, but her roleplay instincts kicked in. Maybe an actor really had been lost to the world when she died.

  “Fine,” she began, her tone measured. “As you know, mortals, I’ve only just set foot in your realm, and I need some answers. Some of my questions may sound strange, but that’s only because I’ve been absent from this world for a long time.”

  They all nodded, silent and tense, waiting for what would come next.

  “At first,” Lily said, her voice steady but sharper now, “for my summoning, you needed an offering. A soul for a soul. So, tell me—which puny soul did you offer me?”

  She stood from her tree trunk with a small hop and looked down on them. Everyone else remained seated, frozen under her gaze. “Because it was such a mere offering, I almost missed it,” she added, her tone calm but cutting. Her crimson eyes glowed faintly in the firelight, and the pressure in the air grew heavier.

  Sevrin straightened a little, trying to gather himself, but before he could speak, Marie hastily stepped in. Lily caught the quick flash of panic in Marie’s eyes the moment Sevrin opened his mouth. Marie really does have a talent for reading the room, she thought.

  “Princess,” Marie began, her voice trembling, “we are sorry if the offering wasn’t enough. It was only… it was only everything we could gather for the summoning.”

  Lily tilted her head slightly. “You will tell me the story about it,” she said simply, and Marie nodded.

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

  Marie drew in a shaky breath and began to speak.

  “The book we used,” she said, “it said the Princess of the Abyss could only be summoned with blood, that a life had to be offered first. We argued for days about who it should be. None of us wanted to kill someone, but we had no choice.” She hesitated, her eyes dropping to the ground. “Then it happened. Marlon was caught stealing food from a merchant in the village. The man beat him so badly he couldn’t walk for days.”

  Lily’s eyes flicked toward Marlon. The boy looked down, shame burning in his face.

  Marie continued, her voice quieter now. “The merchant had a house near the edge of the woods, away from the village. His family used the big townhouse in town most of the time, and the mistress normally arrived two or three days later when he stayed at the little house. Sometimes the family switched houses only every few weeks. He also worked from that house, so it was not strange for him to be there alone for long stretches. We watched the place for almost a month, waiting for the right moment. We made sure his wife and children were gone, and then, one night when he was alone there, we acted.”

  The fire cracked loudly in the silence that followed.

  Marie swallowed hard. “We… we killed him. It was enough. The circle activated. You came.”

  Lily blinked once, slowly, almost confused. Then she sighed and muttered, more to herself than anyone else, “Of course, she misunderstood what I meant.”

  For a moment, she just stood there, watching Marie with her head bowed. The fire cracked softly, and no one dared to move. Then, as the silence stretched, Lily’s thoughts began to drift. So, they didn’t kill the children? she thought, her eyes narrowing a little. Well, that’s… something, I guess. At least they’re not completely insane murder hobos. Though honestly, they’re not far from it either.

  She exhaled slowly through her nose, forcing her thoughts back in line. Alright, focus, Lily. At least I don’t have to feel too bad now that they didn’t slaughter a whole family just to summon me.

  The others stayed silent, not daring to breathe as Lily’s gaze drifted across them again.

  Alright… how to phrase it… she thought, her lips twitching faintly. Ahh, I can’t break my demon persona now. Really, why do feelings get so complicated when I’m supposed to be Lilithia Nocturne? Though, now that I think about it, I feel more like her when I’m emotional. Ugh, whatever. Focus.

  She straightened, her voice ringing clear. “It was barely enough,” Lily said, correcting Marie. “That mere soul did little to satisfy my hunger.”

  She paused dramatically, letting her voice drop into a low, serious tone. “But in light of our agreement, I will forgive you this time. Next time, though, I expect at least a hundred babies to feast on!”

  The silence that followed was absolute. Lily blinked once, then froze. Oh, God, did I really just say that out loud? I got carried away again. Please, please don’t take that seriously…

  The cultists looked horrified, all except Sevrin, whose eyes slowly lit up with admiration. Lily’s stomach sank. Oh great, he’s getting ideas...

  Trying to save what was left of the situation, she clapped her hands once. “Well then! Since you are all mortals and I’ve been gone from your realm for so long, I have questions.” She cleared her throat, shifting her tone back to composed authority. “How do mortals learn anything? No, wait—that came out wrong. I mean, how do you learn class-related skills? You can learn new things through practice, of course, but why do you need classes at all?”

  That sounded better. At least less insane. Still, the question had been nagging at her all day.

  In Xantia, you could learn class skills easily just by spending earned SP in the extra interface. But here, in the so-called real world, it seemed different. The cultists had talked yesterday about learning spells from their books, and that at least made sense to her. It was similar to the second way skills could be learned in Xantia—when you sat down and read a spellbook, the system would register it as read and unlock the spell automatically. But skills were something else entirely. They were personal, physical, tied to instinct and repetition. How could people here learn those without the system to guide them?

  Marie hesitated, glancing at Sevrin, who for once stayed quiet. After a moment, she took a deep breath and began to explain.

  “Yes, Princess. As you may know, every sentient being in this world has a status, granted by the gods.”

  Lily nodded wisely. “Of course,” she said, pretending she knew exactly what Marie was talking about.

  “The status reflects the gifts of the gods—your level, your class, your blessings. When you turn ten, the gods grant you a class. How you get it is unclear, but usually it depends on your life until then. A merchant’s child might become a [Merchant], for example, or someone raised around battle might get a [Fighter] class. That first class defines your main branch.”

  Marie gained some confidence as she spoke. “The main class is what people see when they use a pry stone, but there are subclasses too. For example, a [Merchant] can have the subclass [Trader (Logistics/Negotiation)]. The subclass is what truly represents your divine gift, because you can swap it with your main class. When you do, that becomes your active class, and everything you do helps that class grow.”

  Lily’s eyes narrowed slightly in thought. So that’s like switching your specialization or subclass in the game. Okay, that actually makes sense.

  Marie went on, her voice steadier now. “You can change classes too. If you only have [Merchant], and you start doing something else—like cutting wood—the gods may eventually offer you a class from the [Woodcutter] branch. That’s how many commoners find their path. For example, I am an [Acolyte] from the [Cultist] branch, but there are also [Acolytes] from the Church branches. We both show up simply as [Acolyte].”

  It wasn’t exactly new to Lily, but it was interesting to see how the world’s system translated into something that actually worked. She motioned for Marie to continue.

  “What about levels and skills?” Lily asked.

  Marie nodded. “Yes, Princess. When you have a subclass active, everything you do grants divine enlightenment—what we call experience. It’s tied to your soul, not just your actions. That’s why you gain levels when you defeat monsters or kill enemies. But a trader can also gain experience quickly through successful trades. The gods reward growth through intent and effort.”

  Lily leaned forward slightly, intrigued now.

  “And the skills?”

  “Class skills are rarer,” Marie explained. “They’re gifts from the gods, given every ten levels. You receive your first skill when you gain your first class. When that happens, the gods show you three choices. You focus on the one you want, and once chosen, the knowledge just… appears in your mind. It’s like years of training condensed into an instant. After that, you can perform it instinctively, and even trigger it with a word or gesture.”

  Lily tilted her head slightly, connecting the dots. So, it was similar to what she already knew—skills as muscle memory, backed by the system’s divine interface. Except here, the “interface” was faith and the soul itself.

  Marie finished with an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, Princess. I know I’m not good at explaining, but that’s the simplest way I can describe it.”

  Lily gave a small nod, thoughtful now. “No, that was… surprisingly helpful. I think I understand.”

  She looked into the fire again, her crimson eyes reflecting the flickering light. So, it’s the same foundation, just wrapped in myth and faith, she thought. A system pretending to be divine law. This world really is like Xantia—only alive.