In Loki's Honor

Singleminded determination. If an expression defined Apricot, it was that one. Once she set her mind on something, there's no stopping that train until it reached the next station.

And that focus had only one target. Her family. On an intellectual level, I knew Mirabelle was a bitch. Back on Earth, she would make a killing on the Entitled Parents subreddit. Even then, I could only love her. And all my sisters, my mom, and Anjou too.

That drive was why Apricot made me leave the plantation and go straight to investigate Anjou's suitors. I bet they were terrible, just like the Mouse-Company princes. They are all terrible. And it helps fix in the female imaginarium that idea that you can get a flawed man and fix him. It never works.

It was still in the afternoon when I went to visit the first on my list. Suitor number one was called Medroc Pellow. His father was an ore and refined metals merchant, one that would stand to profit with the war no matter which side was winning. I entered the estate and noticed the number of reinforced wagons parked next to a warehouse. Curious, I approached the warehouse. Chameleon skin worked like a charm, my fur shifting to match my surroundings as I skulked around. After waiting for a quarter of an hour, someone opened the door long enough for me to slip in.

It was full of crates with metal ingots. A veritable fortune in metals of several types. More than eighty percent was copper. They had tin, zinc, silver, even a crate of gold ingots with two big guys keeping watch. Every time I tried to approach one of them would look my way so I gave up on looking at the gold. My surprise was to find an iron ingot.

Iron and nickel. {Chemical Analysis} left no doubt about that. It wasn't steel, but something amazing. Meteorite iron. I wish I could tell them how to make steel but once again my curses forbade that.

I sensed movement and hid. A group of four well-dressed men was walking and examining the crates. Two of them were a bit shorter and had a wider frame, while the others looked like father and son. From their conversation, the one leading the group was Medroc's father. They went around and approached the crate with the iron ingots.

"And this, gentlemen," Pellow Sr. said, "Is pure starmetal! Yes, starmetal. The weapons made from these metals never rust and are way stronger than bronze. Also, look at this sheen! It almost feels like kingmetal."

The other men, which I identified as master blacksmiths by the calluses of their hands and their muscular build, nodded and talked to one another in Strovese Dwarfish.

"That iron is useless for us," One said.

"Yes. The metal is good, better than the crap we smelt back home, but we need more than what he can supply."

"Maybe we can make fancy weapons to sell to their generals."

"But they will trace the source back here. Let's not use that."

And they were too far away for me to continue to overhear. Somehow I didn't think these two dwarves were working for our allies. As they moved, I sneak back to the iron bin and take a sliver of the iron ingot. Moving to another shelf, I get a piece of coal. Now comes the fun part. I tailed the dwarves and slid the iron and the coal in his belt pouch. Then I slapped the pouch and hid.

"What the?" The master blacksmith shouted. "Did you slap me?" He asked the other dwarf.

"No, why would I slap your ugly butt?"

Pellow Sr. approached. "Is there anything wrong, gentlemen?" He asks in the local tongue.

"No, nothing," The dwarves reply.

Once the Pellows are away and leading the dwarves out of the warehouse, the smith looks inside his pocket.

"There's a lump of iron and a piece of coal in my pouch. I'm sure it wasn't there before," he told the other one. "Someone put these in my pouch."

"That's a nice explanation. Except there's nobody in here."

"Why would someone put iron and coal in my pouch?"

I was desperate to whisper, "Mix them", but the curses would trigger. They had to figure it out by themselves.

They negotiated the metal shipment and exchanged a lot of gold and a few platinum coins. Pellow Sr. ordered the warehouse workers and watched as the first crates were moved outside.

It would take years until I discovered if my prank worked or not. The dwarves didn't speak until they left the warehouse. I guess the young Pellow is not that bad. I slipped out of the warehouse and followed the Pellows to the main house. The dwarves were securing their purchases on their wagons.

Father and son entered the main office in the house. I heard a faint humming noise and my ears popped with pressure. I noticed I couldn't hear anything outside anymore.

"Make sure our men are ready to ambush them on the road," Pellow Sr. said.

"Yes, of course, father. As if we were going to trade with those filthy demis," Medroc spat.

"And you need to try harder to get engaged to Lord Ackerton's wench," the father glared as he reproached his son.

"She's a filthy whore's daughter, father. Why should I marry her?"

"Because we're hiring [Assassins] to kill Ackerton once you marry her. After the inheritance transfer finishes, you kill her too."

I growled. Contracts formed on both father and son.

"Did you hear that?" Medroc asked as he looked around, searching for a threat.

Cursing my emotional slip, I dropped on Medroc's head, biting a chunk of his neck off. He wasn't instantly beheaded but he would not survive the bleed debuff. From the son, I jumped on the father. He shouted for a second before I beheaded him.

Contract fulfilled.

You killed level 36 Merchant. You gained 299,226 Exp (12,960 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 3.05 perk x 7,57 contract).

You killed level 31 Trader. You gained 221,880 Exp (9,610 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 3.05 perk x 7,57 contract).

Oh, well. Fuck my rage. They pushed the only button written "instant murder". I looted the office and put some weapon wounds on the bodies to mask the bite marks. I need to commission a dual-sided backpack as the one Lily had.

Getting out was harder because Chameleon couldn't mask the bag I was carrying but not impossible. I left the Pellows to their ruin and searched for the dwarves. I had a written note in their language telling them of the ambush.

I caught up with the dwarven convoy before they left the city. I tossed the note on the lap of the same dwarf that was skeptical about the iron and coal shards.

The Pellows' hired men will stage a bandit ambush further down the road to steal your ores. Father and son are dead and if you don't want to get involved, leave the city before the bodies are found. I have no ill intent toward you or your partner. Destroy this message now.

- Death Princess

The dwarf whispered in his partner's ear and showed the note before he crumpled it in his hand and said a word of power. Smoke came from his clenched fist and when he opened it, only ashes came out.

Next suitor.

Pavel Hendra was the fourth son of the local Baron. He would be a level 99 [Playboy] if such a thing existed. Finding him was somewhat hard because he wasn't in the city. I had to travel for four hours, the equivalent of two days on horseback to reach the ranch he was holed in. I brought a bag with some useful items this time. Poisons, my weapons, a blanket and a change of clothes. I was used to running around naked but I might need clothes.

The ranch raised horses and cows. Part of the property was a lightly forested area surrounded by grasslands and the most prominent feature was a walled archery range. There I found Pavel, training his marksmanship. The guy was quite a shot with his bow. He had two other young men I recognized as other high society scions from the city.

They mentioned with great enthusiasm that they were going to hunt at night several times. The archery practice was just a warm-up.

After asking Nenandil to watch them and let me know when they went out to hunt, I took a nap on the roof. When I went to look for them, they were already entering the forest. I stalked from a safe distance.

"Did your men release the prey, Pavel?" One of the friends asked.

"Yeah, you pussy. They are all in this forest, ready to fight for their lives," Pavel answered with a smug smile.

"There they are. I claim the first kill," The other friend said as he nocked an arrow and aimed his bow.

The arrow flew true and struck the running prey in the distance. A shout of pain erupted as I heard something fall and crash on the forest floor. I went cold. They were hunting people.

I moved ahead of them to look. They weren't hunting just people. They were hunting non-humans. Beastfolk, gnomes, halflings, dwarves, centaurs, and a few lamias, women with snake tails in place of the lower body. All of them had the arms tied up so they would be no danger to the young masters hunting.

My eyes met an elf. Wearing only slave rags, she had deep reddish-brown hair and golden eyes. "Help me," She asked in her melodic voice using an elvish dialect I didn't know. My camouflage didn't help much when I was three meters away and the person was aware of me.

The Master would be so pissed at me. But I decided to murder them. All three of them. And the contract was there as the determination that they deserved to be murdered fell in place. Apricot's brain was an awesome machine. Not even Gloria or the Master could put and remove contracts with the same ease that I did. My conviction was absolute once I put my mind on something.

"Hide," I told her in Fulgenian Elvish. "I'll kill the tormentors." I cut the bindings holding her hands.

She looked at me, surprised. The answer came in Fulgenian as well "Matriarch? Is that you?"

It was my turn to be surprised when she touched my fur. "You're using camouflage but your fur is black, isn't it, Matriarch?"

I swallowed dry. "Maybe." Lily's life was a floodgate I didn't want to open right now.

"Your death was a tragic one. But know that the elven people all appreciate your sacrifice at that junction point. Thank you, Matriarch. We know the council was the one in the wrong."

"Speak of me to no one. Let me go and hunt the hunters," I said as I gently pushed her away.

"May the blessings of Mother Yznera go with you," She prayed.

I shook my head. The Master would be so pissed at me.

I searched for their "kills" and gathered the arrows. Once I had nine of them, I coated them in black binder's sap. The same poison the bandits used to trap Gloria and I. I didn't have a bow but I didn't need one. I just needed arrow wounds.

Friend number one was the first I found. Level thirty-five. It was the usual level when the double Exp bullshit of the progression table forced people to slow down their progress. I was thirty-seven and needed twenty-two million to level up, so I knew what that felt like. But Class rank up happened at Class level twenty now. And the racial levels also gained a boost at level twenty.

Funny that the System would change and evolve like that. Wyxnos must be very busy tweaking things.

Anyway, friend number one. I approached from behind and stabbed his thigh with the poison-laced arrow, scoring a critical hit with {Assassinate}. He lost a third of his HP and got a bleed debuff that looked too hideous to be true. I might've ruptured his femoral artery.

He fell down paralyzed. I took a second arrow and stabbed him in the eye, driving the shaft deep into his brain.

Assassination Successful. Contract fulfilled.

You killed level 37 Burgeouis. You gained 316,206 Exp (13,690 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 3.05 perk x 7,57 contract).

The other two went down the same way. Such big game hunters, they were. I went around releasing and gathering the prisoners in a clearing. Ayla the white moon and Sylvis the green moon were up in the sky but not full. The green-white light they shed caused the leaves to almost shining in contrast with the muted browns fo the trunks. It felt as if the greens were floating in the air.

I changed my camouflage to a normal jaguar pattern and walked with the weapons the hunters had in hand.

"A were-jaguar," a centaur male gasped. "We're doomed!" The female by his side slapped his back.

"She's in control of her rage or we would all be dead," the centauress hissed. "Now behave."

buying all those language Skills was the second-best idea I had this life. The other was to invest in Exp boosts.

The elven lady I saved before was staring at me with dreamy eyes.

I put the weapons on the ground. "Now listen. I want those with the biggest Attribute and Skill ranks to use these weapons. Don't be greedy and at least until you are safely away from here, act as a group."

"Yes Ma- Marina," the elf quickly corrected herself.

I ignored her slip. "Guards are patrolling around this grove. I will take out some of these patrols. When I come back here, I'll lead you out of the property and then you'll be on your own."

"We want vengeance," A male naga hissed, his forked tongue flicking at the air. He had a snake tail in place of the lower abdomen and legs, but his upper torso, head, and arms were covered in snake scales.

"Then you go that way when the sun rises," I pointed toward the ranch. "But don't jeopardize those that want to get away. Or I'll kill you here and now. I'm giving you no weapons, though."

None of these prisoners was above level twenty-five. It was a fucked up sport to buy slaves to kill for Exp. They even purchased situational perks to get more Exp with a favored method of killing.

The naga man didn't answer but stared at me with that antagonistic gaze snakes sometimes have.

"The ones hunting you are already dead. The ones that captured and brought you here are anywhere nearby. What will you do?"

"It is none of your business," He said and slithered away with two other female lamias.

Killing the guard patrols and leading the escapees out was a piece of cake.

I picked up my stuff and ran back to town.

Instead of going home, I searched for the third suitor. Carantok Grenfell was the son of the apothecary I sometimes dealt with. I had high hopes for this one. As I reached his place, Nenandil warned me.

I gained entry to the apothecary shop and went to the back of the shop. With the fairy as a guide, I found the trapdoor leading into the basement and descended. I heard chanting and my {Ritualist [Blood]} Skill gave me a cursory understanding of what they were doing.

Summoning demons. And there's one truth to summoning demons in this world, a truth I learned that night. To summon a demon, you must sacrifice innocence to entice the demon. Guess what counted as "innocence"?

Virgins, what else? It was so cliché that I wanted to strangle Wyxnos if I found him. Seriously, what kind of bargain-bin System did that pantheon buy?

Five people in black robes with red embroidered runes along the rim were chanting in a circle of a pentagram. I wasn't surprised anymore. Too generic but maybe the fiction had a sliver of truth behind it. Bound and gagged before the figure in the center was a naked little girl, her wrists cut and bleeding on the altar. She was unconscious and I couldn't see her HP or her level because she didn't have access to the System.

I put a contract on all five. Seeing the little girl exsanguinating on that altar made my blood boil. I'd wasted too much time.

The chanting reached a crescendo as the sacrificial dagger rose and shone with a sinister light. I wish I was making that up. I pounced the leader, digging all four claws on his back and biting his neck.

Assassination Successful. Contract fulfilled.

You killed level 41 Merchant. You gained 388,117 Exp (16,810 base x 10,000 perk x 0,0001 curse x 3.05 perk x 7,57 contract).

I would need to find another apothecary to buy ingredients from. I roared and killed the other five, including Anjou's third suitor of the day. After finishing the cultists, I checked the girl's vitals. I was too late.

Too late indeed. The ritual circle shone.

Nenandil screamed in my soul.

I jumped out of the circle. A black swirling void sucked in all light, the altar, the girl's body, and the cultists too. Then a giant figure rose from the void. Red skin barely containing the muscles underneath. Black horns that wouldn't put any minotaur to shame. The stench of brimstone. Leathery and barbed wings. Claws the size of daggers.

I used {Appraise} on it.

Level 51 Demon.

Fuck.