Chapter 1248 Spirit World [1]

Arianne choice twitched toward Extreme, the safe answer, the sensible one, the one that let her walk out of here with something to be proud of even if she failed, but she could also die.

[00:10]

Arianne didn't move.

[00:05]

Sweat rolled down the side of her face. Her fingers curled at her sides, frozen.

[00:03]

[00:02]

[00:01]

[Time Expired.]

[No selection detected. Difficulty randomly assigned.]

Arianne's stomach dropped.

The panel flickered once, then settled.

[Selected Difficulty: Hell]

For a moment, she simply stared at the word. Then, slowly, something in her chest loosened.

A long breath escaped her, shoulders sagging as the tension she'd been holding for the last two minutes finally broke.

It wasn't relief at the danger. The Protection towards death removed line was still sitting right there beneath it, still just as real. But somehow, not having to be the one who chose it made it easier to breathe.

She hadn't backed down. She hadn't picked the safe option either.

Arianne wiped her palm against her sleeve, steadying herself.

Well. Guess that settles that.

A new panel flickered into existence.

[Generating Trial…]

Arianne braced herself, though she wasn't entirely sure what to expect. The white space around her stayed exactly as empty and formless as before, giving nothing away.

Seconds passed.

[Trial Generated.]

Her vision darkened all at once, swallowing the endless white without warning.

The next thing Arianne saw was a foot.

It filled her entire field of vision. She barely had time to register the shape. She tried to dodge, but her body didn't respond as she would have liked.

The kick landed.

The first kick was followed almost immediately by a second, then a third, blows landing from different directions before Arianne could even orient herself.

Her body moved sluggishly, nowhere near the speed or strength she'd grown used to since her resurrection. Every attempt to raise an arm or twist away arrived a half-second too late, as though she were fighting through water.

Through the haze of pain, she made out shapes. Three of them.

Their clothes were fine, well-tailored and clean.

They were shouting at her. Cursing, from the tone of it, sharp and mocking.

The language wasn't one she recognized. And yet, somehow, she understood every word anyway.

"Filthy little rat, watch where you're going…"

"Doesn't even know how to bow properly…"

"Someone should really teach her some manners already…"

Arianne gave up trying to block and curled in on herself instead, arms wrapping over her head, knees drawn toward her chest, making herself as small a target as she could manage. Every kick that landed against her back or ribs sent a fresh burst of pain through her, but curling up at least kept the worst of it away from anywhere that mattered.

It felt like it went on forever.

Eventually, though, the blows slowed. Then stopped altogether, the three of them apparently growing bored, or tired, or simply satisfied.

"Tch. Waste of time," one of them muttered.

Another crouched slightly, voice dropping into something almost lazy with contempt. It was a female voice.

"Next time, watch where you're going. You don't get to just bump into people you can't afford to mess with."

A third laughed, short and cold.

"She's just some vagrant orphan after all, we can't expect her to have common sense."

Soon their footsteps retreated, unhurried.

Arianne stayed curled where she was for a long moment after they'd gone, breath ragged, every part of her body throbbing in overlapping waves of pain.

Arianne pushed herself upright, wincing at the fresh protest from her bruised body, and forced her eyes open properly for the first time since the beating had started.

She was in an alley.

Narrow walls of dark stone rose on either side of her. Trash was piled in uneven heaps against one wall, and a thin trickle of water ran down a crack in the stone somewhere behind her, the only sound besides her own ragged breathing.

Above, a strip of grey sky was visible between the buildings, dim and overcast, giving no real sense of what time it was.

Arianne looked down at herself.

She was wearing a uniform.

The same style as the three who'd just left, but where theirs had been crisp and clean, hers was worn threadbare, the fabric faded and stained, one sleeve torn at the seam like it had been mended and re-torn more than once.

Her hands were trembling.

Where… where am I?

She tried to stand, using the wall for support, and her legs shook under even that small effort. She also realized her body simply didn't have the strength it should have.

This isn't me. This isn't my body's strength.

Arianne pressed a hand against the cold stone, steadying herself, mind racing.

Why am I so weak?

A panel finally flickered into view in front of her, hovering just above the cracked stone of the alley.

[Trial Generated.]

[World: Ashveil Continent]

[Description: A world of Spirit Tamers, where the strength of a nation is measured by the beasts its people can summon and bond with. For three hundred years, the continent has stood against the encroaching Demon Army, a force that grows more relentless with each passing decade. Spirit Tamers are the last true line of defense; without them, humanity's cities would have fallen long ago.]

[Setting: Silverleaf Academy, a prestigious institution training the next generation of Spirit Tamers.]

Arianne read through it as memories that weren't quite hers, and yet were, surfaced alongside the panel. A name. An age. A place in this world she apparently already occupied.

I'm sixteen. I'm a student at Silverleaf Academy. I'm a Spirit Tamer.

Or she was supposed to be, anyway.

The other students summoned Spirit Beasts: wolves wreathed in lightning, hawks made of living flame, serpents that moved like flowing water. Powerful things. Beautiful things.

Arianne's spirit had come out humanoid.

The weakest tier of them all, according to everything her borrowed memories told her, barely above uselessness in the eyes of this world.

Others summon beasts, I summon humans?