Chapter 85: Theory and Practice

The redhead claimed she was exhausted — even though it was not yet ten at night — in order to slip into the world of dreams, which had become far less nightmarish than before. Eva seemed surprised by that, but made no comment.

Blanche closed her eyes... and reopened them a few meters away from the entrance to the goblin cave, peacefully lying on the ground. Once again, she decided to complete another quest. Her instincts screamed that she needed to become stronger. And since she had gone to sleep early, she had more than enough time to... go back to sleep afterward.

Stats acquired:

Strength +545

Agility +540

Speed +550

Wisdom +501

Intelligence +541

Drain — Level 5

Flight — Level 5

Carnage — Level 4

Rest — Level 4

Swimming — Level 3

Aura — Level 5

Fear — Level 3

Continued on page 2...

Eighth Level: The East, Part 4

Objective: eliminate 500 goblins.

Time: unlimited.

Reward: to be determined.

Even though Argy had warned her... five hundred? Seriously? She was going to have to camp there for at least two days.

Unless she went inside that damned cave.

Blanche stared at the entrance. Her claustrophobia tightened around her chest just from looking at it. Maybe she could start today and finish after seeing the boys?

Three goblins emerged before she even made up her mind. A few minutes later, covered in blood, she was sitting on her rock again. She had just used Drain, Fear, and Carnage one after another. That last skill had been used on a single enemy... purely to try leveling it up.

Curious, she opened her skill window.

Drain, Level 5, now required less waiting time: only three minutes.

Three minutes.

When she thought back to the early days of the skill, the evolution felt almost unreal. Before, every use had resembled a slow, frustrating operation, sometimes even dangerous because the cooldown left her vulnerable. Now the sensation was different: smoother, more natural, as though the power was finally integrating itself into her instead of merely passing through her body.

And now she could "steal" twice as many stats.

The progression was brutal.

She felt it physically during every training session, every fight, in the way her body now responded with newfound speed. Her reflexes sharpened. Her muscles recovered faster. Even her endurance had changed completely.

That was why she had surpassed five hundred points...

The number still felt absurd whenever she truly thought about it.

Five hundred.

A few weeks earlier, such a stat would have seemed reserved for Outworld monsters or veterans capable of crushing opponents barehanded. Now she was becoming one of the people who were genuinely dangerous.

And the most terrifying part was that she kept progressing.

Not even counting Derek's training, both here and on Epsilon.

Just thinking about it made her muscles protest mentally.

Derek had turned her daily life into a methodical succession of perfectly calculated physical suffering. Every session pushed her limits a little farther, slowly destroying her body's bad habits and replacing them with something more precise, faster, more efficient.

And despite all the affectionate hatred she harbored toward him...

... she could no longer deny the results.

Flight now allowed her to reach the lowest clouds.

The first time she had managed it, it had stolen her breath away.

Crossing the layers of mist suspended above the world felt profoundly unreal. The air became colder, sharper, whipping against her face while the landscapes vanished partially beneath the shifting veils of cloud. For a few moments, she had felt entirely freed from gravity, from the normal rules of existence, from the weight of her former life itself.

She could maneuver more easily too.

Movements that had once been clumsy were becoming instinctive. Her body was slowly learning to react in the air as though it had always been made for it. Sharp turns, sudden direction changes, steep dives... everything required less effort than before.

And above all, less fear.

Fifteen minutes of flight, renewable every two hours, already represented enormous progress.

Fifteen minutes of absolute freedom.

Fifteen minutes during which no road, no wall, no crowd could truly reach her.

But the most important thing was something else.

Most importantly: she could stop whenever she wanted.

That simple improvement had changed her entire perception of the power.

Before, landing often resembled a more or less controlled disaster waiting to happen. Now, she finally controlled her own descent. She could suspend herself in midair, slow down gradually, choose exactly where and when to touch the ground.

The power was slowly ceasing to be an accident.

It was becoming an extension of herself.

The rest had not changed much. But she was practically vibrating with impatience to raise "Rest" to the next level.

Without Phoenix, time felt endless.

Eventually, she called him.

"By the way, I'll be at the Gala."

I figured as much...

"You don't sound thrilled."

That's because you've never been to one, little mouse. Try keeping horny demons away for four hours when they're convinced an incubus guarantees good sex, then we'll talk. Not to mention I'll have to pretend I don't know you...

Blanche grimaced. She could picture the scene perfectly.

"What exactly is an incubus?"

I know someone who didn't read her book on demons...

Another grimace. She had only just finished the one about Norse gods. And her mind had been elsewhere: on her diary.

Demons feed on negative emotions. Incubi — like me — feed on desire, love, longing... in all forms: from a kiss, from an orgasm. Real or not. We can enter people's dreams and give them what they desire most.

"Can demons have children?" she asked innocently while slaughtering another wave.

Yes, but it's very rare. It requires a certain level of power, particular conditions... which even I don't fully know. Only those who've already had a child — a cambion — know how it works, and you know very well that information like that doesn't circulate easily.

"Do you know any?"

Unfortunately. Those beings rarely survive for long. Only one remains today. The Nephilims take care of exterminating them: their powers are too unstable, their madness uncontrollable.

"And if they don't feed?"

They die. And explode. One-kilometer radius, vaporized.

Charming.

"The Nephilims are the children of angels, right?"

Half-angels, yes. Unlike demons, angels hate wandering around Epsilon... and hate reproducing even more. They're rare, but their powers are stable.

Another wave interrupted the conversation. Phoenix, thoroughly unimpressed, went hunting himself. He preferred being covered in red rather than green.

Blanche, however, showed no intention of stopping.