“It certainly is not”, he answered, point blank, and suddenly moved, leaning downwards to be at her face level, his mask fully turned to her. “Do you truly believe that no blame falls on your shoulders?”

  Vic scoffed. What a guy.

  But she didn’t get time to reply.

  “Do you think that the fifty-two dead people that our fight caused wouldn’t have hoped for you to choose, no, to even consider a different option, a more conciliatory one?” he said. The intensity of his voice made the hairs on her arms and neck raise.

  “It’s not MY fault that they were fighting on the wrong side. Don’t mix it up, cutiepi-”

  “I am not talking of soldiers that chose to stand against your escape”, he interrupted her, “I speak of families, of people who did not have a choice and could only hide within their homes as you made your filaments of hellfire fall upon them. They were powerless, and you were not”, he said, and was about to continue speaking.

  “YOU made me do it, you- you amplified it ALL!”, Vic said, and got up, pointing at him angrily. He didn’t raise from his chair, only his head and chest moved to keep up with her height. “Don’t think for a single second that you can push that blame on me. Don’t pretend you couldn’t just have given up too. It goes both ways!”

  “And for what reason would I have done that? You had proven yourself to be a terrific danger to my city, I could not simply let that go. But pray tell, what would you tell to the families you’ve broken with your mindless rampage?”

  Vic cackled back.

  “You’re wrong, shitpants, if there’s nothing your shitty cult could do but fight, me fighting back in kind-”

  “I had to shake hands with mourning widows and try consoling orphaned children as my followers attempted repairing the damage your attacks provoked”, he said. “The scars, both on the cityscape and the people, are not ones that will easily mend or h-

  “STOP INTERRUPTING ME”, she yelled, “Just FUCKING LET ME TALK”

  He stared at her, saying nothing for several seconds. He opened opened his hand and invited her to do so.

  He was insufferable. She hadn’t been waiting for permission.

  She tsked back.

  “I did not intend to kill innocent people or even stupid cultists”, she said. “There’s nothing you can say that will change that.”

  “Whether it was your intention or not does not change the outcome of your actions. Fifty-two dead, Victorya. Do you think the ones they left behind would care on your intent? You’ve taken their loved ones from them. One single magic spell from you… and their fathers, their brothers and sisters, their mothers”, and at that last word Vic did feel a twang of pain, just as the cult leader paused, raising a single finger in the air, “…are gone. Because you, an all-powerful stranger, decided so.”

  Vic stared back.

  There wasn’t much that she could reply to that.

  “It wasn’t part of my plan”, she said, and she didn’t feel any smart funny joke find a way to her mouth. “There was no plan. I was coming up with shit all along. I only answered back in kind what I was being pushed against. I never did any more damage than necessary.”

  She paused, and he didn’t speak. She looked a little on the ground, deep in thought.

  She looked up back at him. He hadn’t moved, waiting for her to speak.

  “It’s the showdown where I blew my plasma beam against your thousands of lightning strikes shot down on me that caused the deaths of civilians, right?” she said.

  He nodded.

  “Well fuck”, she said, and sat back down then laying down, letting her arms lazily sprawl on the ground.

  He tilted his head.

  “Is that all you have to say about that massacre you caused?” he asked.

  She dejectedly snorted.

  “The massacre we caused”, she corrected angrily. “I had no idea what I was doing, I was simply doing it. But don’t pretend you’re not to blame too. If I’m to blame, so are you because you didn’t see that there was another way out you could have tried”, she stopped, and then spoke very softly, looking back at him with clear disgust on her face: “Yeah, fuck you.”

  He seemed to be considering her for a few moments.

  He didn’t say a thing. He was thinking, clearly.

  “You seem mad”, he said. She raised an eyebrow. Why was he saying something so obvious? “Not only about what I supposedly forced you to do, but about my position as a god… no, no… at the notion of godhood itself.”

  She frowned. Yeah, this world of deities sucked. It had pushed her into a corner like she was a wild beast to be put down before… right until she snapped and bloodied her hands and answered in kind with twice as much violence. What was his point?

  “Yes, you are not solely enraged at me”, he added. “But at your own divine disposition too”.

  She blinked.

  What?

  She laughed, more out of surprise than because she found anything actually funny.

  “What are you on about? I’m not that”, she said, and snorted, because that was just ridiculous. “But yeah, clearly, I think it’s pretty fucked up that this world is governed by gods that are themselves pretty fucked up.”

  “Do you truly believe yourself not to be a divinity?” he asked. He sounded genuinely curious.

  She was a player. It was way way different. How did he come up with such an insane deduction? Gramps needed his meds.

  “I’m not one, you silly goose”, she said. That was downright deranged. “I’m human.”

  “Then you have a bigger problem, Victorya. You have memory issues from what I have observed. Have you not?” he said.

  She gave him a look.

  “And what have you observed?” she carefully said.

  “A most enlightening sight”.

  That was just cryptic shit.

  “Care to be any less precise?” she sassed him.

  “Indeed”, he said, and didn’t elaborate. “Do guess in my stead”

  She opened her mouth and closed it. She squinted at him. What was he even playing at?

  She frowned. Had he guessed something from her inability to answer? He was so annoying.

  “Was it something you saw when you tried to invade my mind when you gave me drugs to make sure I stayed asleep while you tried to find a way to mindcontrol me?” she asked.

  There was a light twitch of his fingers at his right hand. She managed to hide in time her smirk.

  He straightened his back.

  “It was”, he answered.

  And…?

  “Are you going to make me ask what you saw?” she asked, grimacing at him.

  Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.

  “Yes”, he said. What a fucking annoying twat. He even had an arrogant british accent to the mix.

  She rolled her eyes, doing it so that he could clearly see that she was rolling her eyes.

  “What did you see?” she lowly asked. It came out with something close to a growl.

  He took his sweet time to answer.

  “A divine, perpetually spiralling stretch spanned with endless pits… a traitorous terrain like no other mind. Your memories have been meddled with, Victorya. Those pits used to be memories. If you truly are not a divinity… then you are a human who has had her mind tampered with in such a severe way that I cannot fathom how you would even remember your own name”, he said.

  Holy shit he’d wanted to say that dramatic speech.

  But she suddenly smiled. Perhaps it was the game system that was making this cult leader see a bunch of nonsense as a defence mechanism. Hmm. Amusing, really. His medieval brain would probably deepfry at the concept of video games.

  She perceived his sudden, slight change of posture. He seemed surprised.

  Oh… Was it because she’d smiled?

  “You know jackshit”, she answered. “You’re funny, you’re a funny little guy”.

  He stared.

  “Are you not going to elaborate?” he asked. Oh? He wanted her to explain why she’d been smiling and what she knew?

  “No”, she said.

  She could feel him squinting behind his mask.

  “Are you…”, he very slowly said, with a light threatening edge to his voice, “going to make me ask?”

  She blinked a few times at him.

  And laughed.

  “HAHA, no”, she said. “Even if you’d ask, I wouldn’t answer. Booh. Loser”, she said.

  She saw his fingers ever so slightly clench. Good, good. Good. Very good.

  “What a shame”, he said. “I had a proposition.”

  She stopped. And squinted. Oh, the fishy cult leader had a proposition. It was definitely not going to be a deal with the devil type of stuff huh huh not at all.

  He raised his opened hands and pacifically lowered them, palms shown up.

  “At peace. We have come to an understanding”, he said.

  “Have we?” she asked.

  He nodded.

  “More than you think”, he said.

  Vic stared, and considered him. Kay, she’d allow him to speak.

  “You do not have to be my enemy”, he said. “If you truly have no evil intent against my city and my followers, I see no reason to pursue this feud. I would rather not see more deaths befall on my people for a pointless fight.”

  She stared at him wide-eyed.

  What.

  “You letting me go?” she asked immediately, getting up. Holy shit holy shit.

  “At peace, at peace”, he said, apparently trying to stop any sort of pacing or brutal movement. “I, of course, have conditions.”

  She snapped her head at him. He was still sitting poised. Hm.

  “Of course you do”, she said. But then smirked. “Do you really think you can keep me in? It’s not like you have a choice.”

  “I always have many possibilities at hand”, he answered bitingly back. “You would not enjoy the one where I’d scorch the earth for the insufferable slight of your constant insolence.”

  She wanted to snort.

  “You wouldn’t go scorched earth on me, you care about your people”, she said, “don’t you?”

  Her tilted head waited for his reaction to judge him.

  He let out a dry laugh, and looked back at her emptily.

  That moment lasted a full ten seconds. Eyes on eyes, or rather, eyes on mask’s slits that led to endless pits of nothing. She did not falter.

  Well, that was indeed a question that he didn’t want answered. He was the one to break the silence by changing the subject.

  “On the subject of the conditions. I have two propositions for you”, he said, unwrinkling his robes in a lazy movement, “The first one, of course, would require you to sign a bloodcontract not to ever return here. A banishment of sorts. You would be executed on sight if you did so, and if I were to meet you out of my city, I would have to attack you. My armies and my followers would know you as an enemy to eliminate on sight after your leave”.

  “I’m okay with all of that except for the blood contract part”, she said.

  “Do not interrupt me again, Victorya”, he said. She rolled her eyes openly at that.

  “I would hereby announce that I’d have destroyed your vessel, but as is the nature of some gods, of course you would have found another. Never meet my path again, and you shall be spared”, he finished.

  “He speaks the truth”, the confessor said. She looked a bit faint. Holy shit, she’d forgotten about her presence in the hall, even if she was sitting right next to the cult leader.

  Vic focused around her surroundings. The divinity outside her shadow armour didn’t allow her to see any mana motions around, she’d even compare it to a thick, very thick fog. It was weird. Had he made his presence seem more… important? Was this all a byproduct of some magic slash divine shenaniganery?

  “Victorya?” he asked. She squinted at him.

  “Whatchu doing with your divine energy?” she asked. “You’re not about to try to strike me down while promising me to let me go, now are you?”

  He seemed startled.

  “No”, he said, then looked at the confessor. “I am preparing in case you try anything that could endanger my city”.

  “He thinks he speaks the truth”, she said. Vic stared at the two of them.

  “Mkay”, she said. She sat back down. She actually was curious about what he was going to say. “Calm your nerves, old man, I’m actually listening, for once. You should enjoy it, as that’s probably the only time in your life where it’s gonna happen.”

  He stared. He had a strangely calm breathing pattern. Too calm. He was… pretending to be composed, wasn’t he? Hehe, she was so silly. It was so easy to infuriate someone that was used to everyone around them sucking up to them.

  “Go on”, she said, and leaned against her curled up hands, smiling. “I’m all ears.”

  “…Of course”, he said. “As for the second option… yes, ah”, he said. “It’s another option that I do not wish for”, he said, and she blinked a few times at that. “It would require no blood contract but trust between the two concerned parties, which is more than unlikely with…” he faltered a little more, then he made a general waving motion towards her. “…you.” he said. The dislike in his voice was barely veiled. “I would repay you the prize money you’ve gained and allow your presence here as it would be better for me to keep an eye on you, a clear danger to all, for the simple reason that it is better to keep one’s own enemies closer.”

  She looked at him, and he was about to keep going, but she interrupted him before he managed to put a word in.

  “You’d do what”, she said.

  “As you are a simple creature of whim”, he continued his little speech with no mind for what she’d just asked about, “I’d only need to give you a pay of a common gold a day to ensure you do not feel the urge to plunder my city. All I would require of you would be to stay here, and not attack or put my city and its residents at risk.”

  She stared.

  “Why?” she asked. With no blood contract? What forbade her from pretending to accept, getting all her money, and leaving then? She was totally doing that. He’d feel so disrespected afterwards, too.

  “I would rather know where you are. I am currently facing three unrelated crises that I need to take care of and you are one of them. And I do not want you, you devious creature of deceit, to find a loophole within the bloodcontract to cause more suffering than you think my cause deserves.”

  She frowned.

  “You’d want me to stay put. In exchange for money”, she said. She stared.

  She considered him.

  And she repeated her question.

  “Why”, she said.

  He stared back, considering her. He did not speak for a long moment.

  “You’ve shown remorse at deaths that could have been avoided. Beneath your crooked surface, you have a slither of a good heart”, he said. “You are not my enemy”.

  She stared.

  Where was the drawback?

  “You wouldn’t try anything while I’d stay, now would you?” she asked.

  “No, I wouldn’t try or scheme against your life or wellbeing”, he said. “As you know, I’ve already tried all I could to take control of your mind, and that failed. There is no point continuing it.”

  “He thinks he speaks the truth”, the confessor said.

  Vic bit the inside of her cheeks. She squinted again.

  She opened her mouth to speak, but closed it to think more.

  She stared at him a while longer.

  “Make it two common golds a day”, she said.

  It was her turn to wait as the cult leader sat, perfectly still, staring back at her. He seemed a little lost.

  “You are greedy”, he finally settled on after a little while.

  “Make it three common golds a day”, she said.

  “Fine!” he quickly said. There was something weird, something very weird in his voice. “Fine. Three common golds a day, no more. A good number. Do not make it higher.”

  He sighed, and rubbed the place between his eyes at the level of his mask. It was funny, it’s not like he could feel his own touch because there was a mask there.

  She snorted, looking away. So dramatic. So fake.

  When she looked back, he was standing right before her, with an extended hand offered to her. She startled. She hadn’t seen him move.

  “Victorya”, he said, waiting for her to take his hand.

  She stared. What? He wanted them to shake on it? Ridiculous. She looked around, but the general thickness of the divine fog hadn’t changed in any way.

  This… wasn’t a trap, right?

  She stared at the hand, licking her upper lip. She wasn’t going to regret taking that hand, now was she?

  She stared.

  She took his hand while getting up, still wearing her shadow armour on.

  “Cursedblood Emperor”, she said and he didn’t react on the name, and they shook on it, each of their hands being covered, one by a golden gauntlet and the other by a shadow armoured fist.

  He released her hand, and nothing magical or divine or any other layer of fucked up had happened. It was all perfectly normal.

  She didn’t feel any different. He hadn’t done anything. It had just been two hands shaking on it.

  …Why did she feel so weird about it?

  “Very good”, he said, nodded, and sighed, sudden tension leaving his shoulders as they slumped back down. The divine pressure in the entire hall slowly lifted, and all was back to normal.

  The confessor was looking at the both of them, with a strange, flabbergasted look. That elf was breathing shallowly.

  Vic looked around her. Nothing had happened. She stared at the back of the Cursedblood Emperor, and just… felt weird.

  This was just… trust? Was he letting his guard down because of trust? Was he insane?

  She grimaced, stared at the confessor, who looked just as weirded out as Vic was.

  “Victorya?” she heard in the low, tired tone of the cult leader. “If you would follow me, please? To your… new quarters. Not the dungeons.”

  She blinked.

  “Uh sure”, she said without meaning the words. This was so weird.

  And Vic followed him.