The bodies were still warm when she finished dragging the last one beneath the trees.

  Four corpses now rested in a haphazard pile, limbs splayed and twisted among fallen leaves. Blood had soaked into the roots and moss, black beneath the light of the night. Veronica stood above them, watching in silence. Her breath was steady, and her expression, unreadable.

  She was deep in thought.

  Jameson had said enough—at least, before he had died.

  The Ashen Covenant had been in Greystone for nearly a year, according to him. At first, they’d moved quietly. Just regular travelers looking for a place to stay. But they had faith, and a lot of it. Talks of rebirth through fire, like that of a phoenix. He claimed that they didn’t reveal their true purpose all at once. It came gradually, festering into people’s minds.

  Jameson hadn’t even been a local. He was part of a passing mercenary company, here on unrelated work. Almost any passing mercenary group that came by Greystone, joined them.

  When the Covenant found Jameson and his group, they offered something employers never could.

  Power. Belonging. A purpose tied to something larger than themselves.

  That’s what most people would like to believe. But in the end, almost all power and greatness was to their own benefit. They sought power, then became drunk on it.

  Since their arrival, he and his group had remained in Greystone as the Covenant’s hands in the shadows. They handled tasks, eliminated threats, took wandering townsfolk when the opportunity struck. He spoke of the sacrifices plainly, as if they were unfortunate but necessary. Said that the summoned demon would be strong enough to bring them back once the ritual was complete.

  To him, was a sacrifice really a sacrifice if they were brought back?

  He thought so.

  Veronica, however, didn’t believe that. Not for a second. Demons or demonic power couldn’t bring back the dead. Not in the way most people would consider “living.”

  She pressed for more—about the Ronswick envoy, about their role, who else was involved—but Jameson’s voice cut off mid-confession. At first, it was a brief stammer. Then, it turned to a strained gasp.

  In the end, all that was left, was silence.

  Darkness crept across his skin, thin strands like living ink spiraling from his jaw to his throat. His body stiffened, head slumping forward as the light vanished from his eyes. A binding seal—designed to kill its bearer on command. Similar in structure to a slave crest.

  The others followed moments later. The wounded mercenary. The one scorched by flame. All dead the same way.

  Someone had noticed their failure—and erased them before she could learn more.

  Veronica sighed. She had intended to execute them anyway. They were too far gone—willing to ambush, to kill, to sacrifice innocents for power. If they’d do that to her, what chance would an ordinary villager have?

  She felt no pity. Whatever regret they’d felt at the end didn’t undo the lives they’d taken or were willing to take.

  It was safer to hide the bodies, rather than let them rot in the open. Even if the cultists knew about her right now, it wasn’t good to have the townspeople panic. It wasn’t too clear whether some of them were in on it either—townsfolk or even Welterman himself.

  She hoped they were far enough away that no one had heard the fight.

  Veronica placed both palms against the ground and channeled mana downward. The earth rumbled, cracked, then collapsed inward. The bodies dropped several meters as the soil caved in around them. With a final pulse of mana, she caved the hole in, collapsing the surrounding dirt back in, sealing it shut.

  She straightened, a bitter taste left in her mouth. She dusted off her hands and turned her back on the corpses, buried bodies to be forgotten forever. As for the burning leaves, those were put out with wind magic and scattered about, erasing the evidence.

  She thought about the situation.

  The Ashen Covenant was moving faster than she remembered. In her last life, they had been a minor ember—fanatics, yes, but scattered. They worshipped demons like desperate children staring into the sun, not truly understanding the fire they were calling to. Their rituals were fringe. Harmless, almost. Delusional attempts at communion with something they thought could be tamed.

  But something seemed off. Things were shifting. Or perhaps things had always been this way.

  Veronica walked step by step; she headed back toward Greystone, the quiet hush of the forest curling around her like a closing fist. Her mind traced the cracks in her memory.

  In the future, the Covenant had never become more than a background threat—loud in philosophy, but lacking in force. Once the invasion began, even their most devoted broke under the truth of it. There had been too many demons. Too much hunger. Nothing left to worship when the gods of flame and teeth arrived and made clear they had no love for their followers.

  So why were they bolder now?

  She vaulted the fence without effort, landing softly in the dark dirt, and slipped between buildings until the inn came back into view. The lamps inside were low. Almost no one was left inside the common room; there were only two patrons left, murmuring quietly over their mugs.

  The innkeeper gave her a nod. Just a few minutes before midnight—she’d made it.

  She nodded back and went up the stairs.

  Her room was cold.

  Veronica sat at the edge of the bed before leaning back against the stiff pillow, her thoughts too loud for sleep. Her eyes drifted to the ceiling.

  The Covenant had been too organized. Too deliberate and methodical with what they were doing. Willing to act this early—far too early. Summonings by razing towns hadn’t happened before the first cracks appeared. Not this far in advance. Not in some nameless mining town on the edge of the kingdom.

  Or… had it? Maybe they had taken over this city in the future, but laid low. Welterman wasn’t that old of a baron, yet the titles had changed in her timeline. Was he fated to die because of the Covenant? Had someone killed him, along with the townspeople and covered it up with a figurehead? Kept things hidden as some sort of facade?

  Veronica sat up, exhaling slowly.

  No point worrying about it now. I just have to stop whatever they’re planning. I’ll deal with the Covenant once I’m strong enough.

  The covenant was only a small group of believers, but they had reach all over the kingdom. For now, she just needed to deal with the ones in Greystone, a poor mining town.

  With that thought settled, she slid into meditation.

  She had already defended herself against assassins. Ordinary men, nothing more. Now that she was Tier-2, it was time to do what most mages delayed far too long.

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  Her second set of mana rings.

  She guided her mana inward, feeling for the familiar structure around each core. The first rings were already stable and efficient. The next layer took more focus, more precision, but unlike most mages, this wasn’t unfamiliar territory. She had done this ten times over in her last life.

  The rings formed slowly, one after the other, locking into place with a subtle resonance that hummed through her chest. Her breathing steadied as the pressure eased.

  The next day.

  After a simple breakfast, Veronica headed out once more—this time toward the barracks.

  Captain Luthen had sent word that morning before she even made it a few steps out of the inn. A guard had come up to her, asking whether she was free. If she were, then they could use her help again in furthering their training.

  She had time, so she saw no reason to refuse. Constantly visiting the ritual site wouldn’t do her any good since they were aware of her movements now. As for getting strong—that was tougher to do. Unlike the first and second tiers, she couldn’t simply just work toward them actively. She needed a catalyst for the next few tiers.

  The training yard was already active when she arrived. Guards rotated in pairs, shields raised, weapons dulled for practice. Luthen greeted her with a nod, clearly relieved to see her upright and alert.

  “Same as before?” he asked.

  Veronica rolled her shoulders. “Go all out. I won’t be as tired today.”

  She took her place at the edge of the yard and began casting—controlled spells, precise bursts, focused impacts meant to test their reactions rather than overwhelm. Fire and kinetic force snapped in the air, forcing the guards to move and think.

  Veronica felt it immediately. The difference.

  Mana moved more smoothly now, circulating through her body with less resistance. Less waste. Less strain. This was thanks to the second set of mana rings she formed last night.

  [You have completed a quest: Form second set of Mana Rings]

  [Mana Regeneration has increased from 140 to 220.]

  [Reward: Excess Mana Conversion]

  The reward was quite simple, according to what Sage explained. Essentially, whenever Veronica generated excess mana—it would expel itself into her surroundings. Sage could then use this to empower any barriers she created. While at maximum mana, she would only expel small amounts, as her mana rings did not need to spin quickly.

  Still, this would prove very useful later in the future. Especially whenever she really went all out. Her exalted form was like a living battery for this.

  By late morning, the guards were exhausted, but still smiling, even if meekly. Luthen called the session off, thanking her once again as they dispersed.

  It wasn’t glamorous work, yet it was still useful And it kept her sharp. She was even paid 200 Vix for her time. A personal payment from Captain Luthen. Although she was doing work for the town, he felt bad making her come out in the morning. She wasn’t part of their forces; she was merely a citizen.

  Afterward, she and a group of about ten other guards went out on patrol. They checked the perimeter of the town and some areas of interest deeper in the forest. They first faced a weak pair of goblins that had created a small camp. Veronica mainly watched. The guards were accustomed to fighting these monsters.

  During the expedition; only occasionally did Veronica throw a fireball or two to kill some straggler monsters. She didn’t want to waste higher tier spells on weaklings.

  She also spent this time looking for clues in the forest. Unfortunately, she noticed nothing out of the ordinary. Along with that, she had them avoid the areas where she had fought the assassins the night earlier. No point in causing unwelcome panic. She didn’t intend to hide from the cultists—they were well aware of her now—but if the town realized, they might all disappear.

  She couldn't let that happen.

  Her time with the guards ended after killing roughly seven goblins and two forest wolves. According to Luthen, it was the new record for kills in a couple of hours.

  Later, as she finally sat down to eat and relax after a morning filled with work, a familiar presence dropped into the chair across from her.

  “So,” Finn said, sitting across from her. “Find anything out about those creepy guys?”

  Veronica sighed into her meal.

  Here we go again.

  Veronica didn’t even look up. She sat beneath a canopy of high branches and warm sun, the midday breeze rustling through a nearby bush like soft applause.

  The small public park just off the main square had a few wrought-iron tables, all worn with age but still sturdy. It was quiet and peaceful here. She’d chosen it specifically to avoid the heat and noise of a tavern or the suffocating air of her room at the inn.

  But relaxing wasn’t exactly the word she’d used to describe being hounded by a kid.

  She finished a bite of her sandwich and dabbed the corner of her mouth with a napkin. “I’ve already told you, Finn—I’m not going to teach you magic. I don’t have the time for it.”

  “How about a trade, then?” he said, leaning forward dramatically, as if that alone might sway her. “I’ve lived in Greystone my whole life. I know my way around the place. There might be some information you’d be interested in.”

  Veronica reached for her drink. A cold cup of Lemonair Lemonade. It was a drink quite popular among the townsfolk. The sweetness balanced with a faint herbal bitterness. It was quite refreshing.

  She took a long sip before answering. “There isn’t anything you can do that I’d want badly enough to waste time teaching you magic.”

  He shifted, crossing his arms. “Oh yeah? Well, did you know that it’s not just townspeople who disappear from Greystone? Travelers go missing even more often.”

  She raised an eyebrow. “What are you talking about?”

  “Exactly what I said. While people from Greystone do disappear, a lot more of the ones who vanish are visitors—travelers, mercenaries, that kind of thing.”

  “And how do you know that?” she asked.

  Finn leaned forward again, lowering his voice. “Greystone’s way out on the edge of Vitian, right? People don’t come through here often. So when they do, I keep an eye on them. Mercenaries especially—they’re always passing through, looking for work. When they can’t find any, they leave. And sometimes, I follow them for a bit.”

  “You really need to stop stalking people,” Veronica said flatly. “Cultists and random mercenaries.”

  He shrugged. “Anyway. The last two times I followed someone out of Greystone, I’m pretty sure they met up with the cultists.”

  “Pretty sure?”

  He nodded. “Their trails kind of just… disappear. And there’s always more of that dusty stuff lying around when they do.”

  “You mean Ashvein Powder.”

  Finn hummed in agreement. “Seems like people who come looking for work disappear the most. I think those guys in masks are recruiting them.”

  Veronica fell silent.

  That did line up with how they operated. They preyed on people who were desperate, especially those down on their luck. Mercenaries without work would be easy targets.

  “There were mercenaries who arrived recently,” she said at last. “You think they’ll go after them next?”

  “I doubt it,” Finn replied. “I didn’t see what you did in the square, but I heard the rumors. They’re in jail now, right? I don’t think the cult would risk breaking out four or five people just for extra help.”

  He continued, raising a finger in front of him, matter-of-fact. “A few people disappearing each month can be explained. A prison break can’t. That’d cause panic. Security would go up—especially if people thought the mercenaries were still around, hiding out or looking for revenge.”

  He wasn’t wrong.

  If the cult only targeted people as they left town, then secrecy was still their priority. Prisoners vanishing from Greystone’s jail would raise alarms that couldn’t be brushed aside—especially when it wasn’t even certain those mercenaries would cooperate.

  And a prison break would mean dead guards, or worse—jailkeepers exposed as traitors.

  The information was useful, but it didn’t change much. The envoy’s arrival was already too close for her to do anything. After being attacked by those assassins, there was no chance she could play it off as a regular “traveler” and meet any of their recruiters. They’d just send more assassins, or just ignore her, hoping she’d leave.

  Veronica had simply arrived too late for an operation that took place over months.

  “So?” Finn asked after a moment, nudging forward slightly, head tilted. “Was that information worth anything? Maybe a spell or two in exchange?”

  She sighed. “I’m already being nice by not tracking down your parents and telling them what you’ve been up to. Sneaking around at night, spying on cultists, mercenaries—seriously, Finn? The answer is still no.”

  “I don’t have parents.”

  The words landed with weight. Not loud, and not bitter. Just... there.

  Veronica paused mid-motion, her sandwich still in hand. Slowly, she looked up.

  “I’m an orphan. Grew up in town. I never knew them,” he said, voice flatter than usual. The usual sparkle, the childlike excitement—gone, for a moment.

  “I see,” Veronica said quietly. “Sorry. That was... insensitive of me.”

  She didn’t look away, but neither did she press him for more. She just sat there with the food growing cool in her hands. The breeze passed through again, quieter this time.

  Some silence passed between them. Finn shifted in his seat, kicking at a pebble with the edge of his boot.

  “I’m still not teaching you magic,” she said eventually, taking another bite.

  “Damn,” he muttered under his breath.

  She smirked slightly.

  “And stop staring at me while I eat. It’s rude watching a girl chew.”

  Finn crossed his arms, turning to the side in a show of mock offense. “Fine. But I’ll prove I’m useful in this case. Just you watch. They don’t call me the greatest spy of Greystone for nothing!”

  Veronica sighed and shook her head. “Do whatever you want.”

  1/26/2026 - This chapter has undergone a revision. In case you see any comments that reference something that doesn't make sense or is inaccurate/incorrect, there is a chance it may have been corrected.

  There might be a bit of confusion with how the magic system works right now. I was originally going to wait until Veronica found a disciple/student and explain how mages worked. But to quell any confusion, I'll explain a bit of it here early.

  I don't think it really affects the story in a meaningful way going forward if I explain it here, so feel free to read how it works. If not, totally fine too!

  (if I publish this story, I'll revise the earlier chapters with it written-in).

  Anyway (spoilers if you don't want to know how the magic system works):

  A person can have two "primary" paths instead of having a subpath, but that just means they're splitting what they specialize in.

  Path of Ruin: Raw destructive power

  Path of Blooming: Healing, purification, regeneration.

  Path of Sculpting: Reshaping matter and energy.

  Path of Revelation: Truth, perception, prophecy.

  Path of Veils: Concealment, illusion, misdirection.

  Path of Frailty: Curses, decay, weakening.

  Path of Ascension: Enhancement, empowerment.

  Subpaths include:

  Path of Tempests: Propagation and extension.

  Path of Focus: Precision and Amplication.

  Path of Longevity: Continuity and Sustain.

  Path of Latency: Dormancy and Delay.

  Path of Splitting: Autonomy (Summons, minions, constructs).

  Path of Imbuement: Item and matter enchantment.

  Path of Origin: Specializes in all paths, with no specific strengths.

  I will from now on include a random combination of Primary Path and Sub-path with a small explanation of what they do, sort of like a little End-Of-Chapter bonus.

  For starters: Let's start with Veronica.

  Path of Ruin and Path of Tempest mages are ones that specialize in raw power, spread over a large range. This combination requires a mage's mana capacity to be extremely large to keep their firepower persistent over a wide area. Every destructive spell they learn can be further amplified by propagating the magic to the largest area of effect possible, as long as their mana holds.