Two weeks later, the delivery came in three large boxes—still no Spirit. I had almost gone into her lair, but whatever was happening in there had created a strange energy field around the mausoleum that contained her body. I became aware of the energy field as soon as it appeared, recognising it as unique in the dungeon. It was a feeling like a faint itch, persistent but not annoying. Harrington went to inspect the energy field several times in my presence so I could protect him. He was sure it was some form of metaphysical spiritual force, but what it was doing or shielding, he did not know.

  They were left at the gates near sundown, and I had the Hunters bring them to the church. Curiosity was rampant among them. That was clear from their body language, though they did not communicate with each other at all during the transportation of the boxes.

  The boxes were placed carefully before the altar as I instructed. They gathered around to hear my words. This was the only reason they could be so close together.

  I used a crowbar to open each box before speaking.

  "I have honoured the contract with each of you."

  I lifted one item wrapped in thick material and other packing materials of the time.

  "In turn, you have honoured your side."

  I slowly revealed the hidden item—a bottle of expensive aged whiskey. The dark amber liquid drew the attention of them all.

  "The years have not always been easy or kind to you. I have sought to help each of you in making life here as pleasant as possible."

  I reached out and handed the bottle to Rodriguez, who took it with a look of surprise.

  "I have arranged this delivery to help make life a little easier for a short time."

  Over the next half hour, they all received different things that mainly boiled down to expensive alcohol and tobacco. I did throw in a large number of expensive steaks to sweeten the deal. Beef was no longer the meat of choice for two of the Hunters, but I think the gesture was appreciated. I could not supply everything they wanted, but I did my best.

  I received many thanks from them as they left with their prizes. Harrington was one of the longest. They all were surprised by my generosity, and even the sullen McGregor seemed happier.

  Rigger held the back, holding what I had given him tight against his chest.

  "You wish to speak, Rigger?"

  I asked him when the others were out of earshot. He nodded but looked to the church doors until the last Hunters were gone. Once he was sure they were gone, he turned back to me.

  "Thank ya, Keeper." The emotion in his voice was not what I expected. "Me know that ya are doing ya best to get me new wives, but this is an unseen boon."

  He moved his arms to indicate what I had supplied him.

  "As I said to the others, I felt you all should get some of the bounty that New Midian has access to now and again."

  He nods as I speak. Then continues.

  "Ya have always been generous to us. Reckon not knowing much about contracts and such, but you done us right." He was speaking better now that he had gotten used to his new jawline.

  "When you first arrived, I decided to use the carrot over the stick."

  He looked a bit confused, so I elaborated.

  "Keeping you all happy with your place here gives me less trouble than if you are all unhappy and angry."

  Understanding dawns in his eyes, and he nods in understanding.

  I had had similar conversations with him in the past, and I was now concerned with his ability to remember.

  "Rigger, how much do you remember about before coming to New Midian and your time here?"

  He frowned and thought about my questions.

  "Not much anymore about before. My time here is...foggy. Reckon I recall all the kills and other things you had us do. The time in my lair I remember, but a lot of other things are a bit harder and a lot of sleeping."

  Well, that was interesting and concerning. Was his age or the changes to blame? Chronologically, he was at least in his seventies, but how the levelling changes brought about affected him, I did not know. He was coherent and functional, which was clear. But the loss of memory was concerning.

  He continued thanking me as I walked out, then disappeared off to his lair.

  I was left in my church thinking.

  My Hunters didn't like to think about their lives before coming here, even the most chatty ones like Roberson or Harrington. If I asked directly, they became uncomfortable sharing information, but only hesitantly at best. Was that another sign that the contract they agreed to with me was affecting their minds?

  This reinforced for me the simple fact that I did not know much about the process by which they changed, nor about the contract they agreed to with me. I knew my side and what was required of me, and to supply. But then I was unsure of so much. I did not even have access to it. All I knew was from the info dump at the start of my establishment here.

  I didn't need to supply them with the alcohol and tobacco I just did. Hell, I didn't need to split the loot with them if I wanted. But I thought that was wrong and that they, as the ones working out there and doing the killing, should partake in the spoils. Everything I took, they didn't want or didn't need. This suited them fine, and they were happy as far as murderous monsters went.

  Another issue to add to the list: I need to research and understand it. Unfortunately, I cannot research this extensively and would have to think it over. I still clearly remember everything from the information given to me, including the pain.

  Thankfully, I had plenty of time.

  Suddenly, the persistent itching in the back of my mind disappeared, and I knew the Spirit had re-emerged.

  Sighing mentally, I sought her out.

  It didn't take me long to find her.

  It was night, and as soon as I headed over to her hunting grounds, I caught the faint light she created as she wandered. I was a reasonable distance above the ground and picked it out quickly.

  I did a visual inspection before I looked at her character sheet. On the surface, she appeared as she always had, though I was unsure which of the clothing she wore or projected was now clearly dated.

  She was wandering amongst the gravestones and statues near her mausoleum.

  "Well then, let's get a look at what's going on under the hood."

  "Soul stealer?"

  I have even the faintest idea what that debility entailed, so I looked it up.

  I was silent for some time.

  There were so many possibilities, and things were piling up in that simple text box, which concerned me. The final line was, of course, the most obvious. The danger, of course, was realised quite quickly by me: what if the Hateful Spirit had killed the Wendigo that had recently attacked the dungeon while possessing this ability? What powers would she have gained, and would she still be able to be controlled by the contract?

  Another problem to add to my list.

  February ended with a brief snowstorm, but it quickly melted.

  March was upon us now in an unseasonably mild early spring. The beginnings of nature's awakening were well underway. Green sprouts were appearing everywhere, and I knew soon they would start blooming. There might be another sudden freeze or snowstorm, but spring was firmly here.

  The papers were coming regularly again. They were a great distraction at the moment as I was now sitting out at 154 kills, six more, and I would reach my new level. The Wendigo's death had really increased my death count, but I knew I couldn't rely on such events in the future. It had cut several years off my projected timeline to my next level.

  Apparently, I still dreaded the following number. For that number of people, I would kill, and the time it would take. I wasn't sure which one concerned me more now. I turned my attention back to the papers, trying to ignore the nagging doubt in my mind and my persistent concern about the Hateful Spirit.

  The Royal Navy had received additional funding in Britain, enabling it to expand and establish new bases on the home islands and across the Empire. The Ottoman Empire, German Empire, Austrian-Hungarian Empire and British Empire signed one of the biggest rail deals in history. The legendary Orient Express was being expanded from Constantinople to Baghdad and then to Cairo to connect to the Cairo Cape Town rail network.

  That impressed me. If the line is finished, you could travel from Paris to Cairo on a single train. Such a thing never existed in my timeline and was a clear sign of the changes in this one. A crazy thought came to me: imagine a train running from Paris to Cape Town. That boggles my mind for a while.

  Various empires were absorbing the last unclaimed territories around the world, as Britain took control of the remaining parts of West Africa. The Colombian Senate in South America approved the British treaty, allowing the construction of the Panama Canal, which provided faster access from the Pacific to the Caribbean.

  President Harold McGregor protested the treaty, claiming it violated the Monroe Doctrine. The problem was that the Monroe Doctrine was virtually dead and unenforceable by the United States. Their military was strong in its army, but their navy was a shadow of the great powers'. Some new hulls were being built every year, but they were nothing compared to what the navies of Europe could deploy or were producing. Japan now outmasses the United States Navy in both hulls and tonnage, according to many reports.

  I continued reading what few stories interested me until April arrived, and on the second day of the month, my next visitor arrived.

  It had been a clear day, but now the sun was starting to move towards the mountains in the west. The sky was beginning to change colour when a woman arrived in a small wagon before the gates.

  She was dressed in a heavy-looking dress that did not seem to hinder her movement. She was in her late thirties and looked fit. The wagon was loaded with boxes and packs. The woman was soon digging around in the wagon, pulling out bottles and small packets. She puts on a large leather apron and puts various things into its alarming number of pockets. She was taking her time, not rushing, collecting everything she wanted.

  I was fascinated watching it all.

  The sun had reached the mountains, and darkness was growing across the area. The woman stood up straight and stepped off the wagon. She was now carrying a satchel and a lantern. She was wearing thick leather gloves, and in her right hand she held a scythe. She walked with purpose towards the gates.

  "A Challenger?"

  My surprise was evident at this revelation, but she was not a normal one. I was interested to see the alert message when she left the courtyard. Speaking of the courtyard, she walked straight into it and headed up to the plinth bearing the engraved instructions. She stopped here, looking over the writing on the plinth. I can see her speak under our breath as her eyes follow the writing. She might be reciting what was on the stone before her, but I wasn't sure.

  She stopped and looked around at the two possible exits following the paths. She also considered the possible third option: cutting straight through the graveyard. All were valid routes to the distant spire of the church.

  She closed her eyes, reached under her apron, and pulled out a crystal tied to a necklace around her neck. She gripped it tightly and closed her eyes, muttering again. A faint breeze passed over the graveyard, and she opened her eyes, looking south. It seems a decision was made.

  She walked up to the southern path but had not left the courtyard just yet. She was gripping her scythe, ready to be used. Her other hand was digging around in one of the pockets, and she pulled out a small bottle. I could make out the contents, but beyond that, there was some liquid, with no clue what it was or what it did. She held it in her left hand and sat upon the path.

  [Alert! The Witch is recognised as a Challenger.]

  "Witch?"

  Well, that was new. Washing a member of the Daughters of Medusa or an independent. Hell, she might even represent another faction altogether. All I knew was that this was going to be very interesting.

  My Hunters were stirring, responding to the message that they would have seen. I could sense the confusion over its nature.

  Rodriguez was first up as she had taken the southern route.

  I followed behind her as I usually did. Watching her walk quickly revealed a very strange pattern. She was not walking normally but seemed to be… Dancing?

  These steps were not a consistent rhythm but moved in different directions, even making small twirls. As she moved, she was softly singing under her breath, and I got closer to try to make out the words, but I was unable. The closer I got to her, the more I got a strange feeling. I quickly recognised it as the same feeling I got when I was close to any of the arcane items I had in my possession.

  I was confident enough to call it magic now.

  This woman was magical or had magical items on her person.

  I couldn't warn my Hunters of this, as I was bound by the rules involving a Challenger within my dungeon. It would be very interesting to see how she fought them and how they reacted to her abilities. Harrington, I believe, would have the best chance against her if her powers were something along the lines of flashy magic. But as I suspected, her abilities were more tied to the item she was carrying in her pockets.

  Then again, I could be completely wrong.

  She was progressing along the pathway, but not as quickly as she could have been. The movement pattern was slowing slightly, but I sensed it was intentional. The erratic way she moved allowed her to look in multiple directions regularly, making it incredibly difficult for anyone to get behind her without being seen.

  I too was looking out across the graveyard, trying to pick out Rodriguez, but had not seen him so far. We were halfway through his hunting grounds, and she was approaching the junction to take it to the next ring. She seemed happy to follow the proper path rather than taking shortcuts or cutting through the gravestones. She was purposely ignoring all the pathways that led to dead ends.

  This continued for a little longer until I caught movement in the distance. Rodriguez was nearby. I wasn't sure yet whether you'd spotted her, but I suspected he was tracking along the southern pathway, looking for the Challenger.

  This conclusion was confirmed when he suddenly stopped and veered toward us. It appeared he had finally spotted her. She continued, oblivious to the approaching danger, moving in her strange, dancing walk. I suspect it was some form of ritual, but to what purpose, again, I was oblivious.

  Rodriguez had finally closed the distance to get a look at the intruder, and a strange walk/dance confused him. He paused, watching her, and then began stalking her from the side after she had passed him. It was difficult for him to get close enough to make the attack, as her strange movements kept her looking around.

  So far, she made no indication that she had spotted him.

  The strange behaviour was causing him to move more cautiously, which I respected. His more animalistic nature now often made him much more aggressive, but even predators stop and watch when they encounter something they don't understand.

  He watched for several minutes and seemed to be growing confident in his assessment. Before him, he seemed to think that a strange woman was moving down the pathway, armed but easy to overcome. He had the advantage in strength, height, and speed. Well, that was what I expected to be going through his mind.

  This Tomahawk was out, and he had made sure to be now angled behind her. He was closing the distance, using the statues and gravestones as cover, moving when she was not facing him.

  There was still no sign that he had been spotted.

  The pathway approached a dense area where many graves, statues, and even a few trees were extremely close to it, creating a rather dense space. I think he will make his move there.

  She entered the area and continued moving. He moved as well, still slightly behind her, now angling into attack. He was using the increased cover to get closer to her. I knew it was going to be any minute now, and he would attack.

  She was about halfway through this area when he made his move.