The Raksa growled with great volume as its lower jaws split open. The call to the sky sank the night into silence, turning the debased village as quiet as a graveyard. Given the current state of affairs, the village was no different than a graveyard.

Robert made his move first against the Raksa, sending out the spear in his right hand.

The Raksa twisted its outlandish body and nimbly flipped over the strike that gouged the ground it once stood. The Raksa found its footing as it spun, landing upturned on the hollow air.

Robert witnessed the marvel with raised brows, auguring his bleak chances of victory in this fight.

The air rippled as the Raksa kicked off lunging at Robert.

He hastily put his sword up as guard, saving himself from the claws that aimed for his neck but the impact itself broke his posture. Robert reversed his grip on his spear and sough out his balance by spearing the ground.

The Raksa’s struck with its other claw but Robert parried with his sword. He recover his grip on the spear and thrust out. The Raksa dodged low and pounced but its claws bounced off a layer of vermilion scales on Robert’s body.

Mystic Scales, Robert’s newly acquired Specialization Magic, one which he extracted from a small piece of a Dragon. Very much like the shield, Robert was able to produce vermilion scales but instead of a wall, the scales covered his body. As an extra perk, Robert felt himself rising closer to the Elite-level.

The Raksa spun and brought its tail around. Robert leaned back to avoid the sickle-tip as it streaked across the air, a sharp ring followed.

Robert plunged, missing his target like his previous attempts. He pulled back and thrust again, this time aiming to make the Raksa leave the ground. And it did. Robert threw his sword which the Raksa welcomed with its razor-sharp fangs. This was just within Robert’s calculations.

A short sword appeared in the stead of the one he threw. As the Raksa closed its jaws and snapped the thrown sword into pieces, Robert swung his newly prepared sword.

The air rippled beneath the Raksa’s limbs and it somersaulted over Robert.

Robert substituted his spear with a long sword. He swung back at the beckon of his hyper-cognition, sparks flew and metal rung, staving off a sneak attack from the Raksa’s tail.

Numbness traveled into his hand. Robert felt he made the right choice of not leaving the attack to the defense of the vermilion scales.

The moment the Raksa settled onto the ground, it brandished its tail to ward off the daggers Robert threw. For the daggers which went past its tail, the Raksa bent over and under the daggers. It caught the last dagger in its jaws, splintering the small blade with its bite.

Although none of the daggers even scratched the Raksa’s skin, Robert had a triumphant face.

He gotten himself close to the Raksa while it was absorbed in its defense. With a long sword in his right hand, he stabbed at the creature’s limbs. The Raksa retorted by trapping the sword under its claws. With a spear in his left hand, he drove at the monster’s head but it swiped it off with its tail. Robert did not relent. He thrust again and was parried but he thrust again. This time, the Raksa wrapped its tail around his spear.

A sword under the monster’s limb and a spear within it’s tail grasp. Robert was at a pickle, or so it would seem.

The Raksa spread its jaws wide and plunged itself at its apparent prey.

Robert smirked.

From the start, he could sense some intelligence in the Raksa. He also knew while the Raksa wasn’t something at a Master-level it was at least better than the average Elites. While he didn’t think he would lose immediately, he knew the Raksa would overpowered him eventually. After all, the Raksa wasn’t affected by Limbo. The Raksa was Limbo, a beast exalted of this world. Robert had lost his biggest advantage. Even so, one’s advantage can be leveraged. Robert assumed it would underestimate him. It would fully commit to attack him when he showed his vulnerability. In turn, the Raksa would show its own vulnerability.

And Robert assumed correctly.

At the wide-opened mouth of the Raksa, He fired off a Magic Bolt with his own mouth as the peculiar medium. A perilous technique. Hands were deemed the most conventional and safest medium for Magic casting, especially with Magic of destructive nature. If there were complications in the Magic casting process, losing fingers was better than a face. It was another huge gamble Robert played.

All six of the Raksa’ eyes feasted at the incoming of the ostentatious attack Magic. It released its hold on the spear and sword. It moved at the very last moment but it was not utterly enough. The Magic abraded the right side of its face and two of its right eyes.

The Raksa let out a deathly howl of its agony.

Robert expected birds came flying out of the woods and trees but nothing of those sorts happened. That would be too comical for this world, Robert thought. It was also only now did Robert noticed there were no monsters nor any presences within his hyper-cognition. It had been this way since the Raksa appeared.

“The apex, huh,” Robert surmised.

The Raksa leaped a considerable distance away from Robert. It glanced solely on him, its limbs trembling with emotions. Instead of wrath and anger, there were contentment and delight. It even grinned and chuckled.

“Oh, what?” Robert was baffle by the monster’s strange behavior. It was the first time Robert did not get gazed with resentment upon landing a devastating blow. He was even greeted with joy.

The Raksa did not attack again. It simply shook off its pain and went to fetch the corpse of Baxton it was gnawing on before retreating into the woods.

“That was— curious.”

Robert wanted to chase it down but it was clear to him that he wasn’t the Raksa’s opponent and fighting among trees wasn’t something he looked forward to. He saw its tail and he felt the strength when it deflected his strikes. Robert doubt the Raksa would have any difficulty throwing heavy objects with its tail. The Spliced Ghoul was enough for him.

He heaved a long sigh as the conclusion hit him.

Accepting his exhaustion, Robert slumped to the ground. “That’s that.”

He looked around, letting the outcome of the skirmish into his sights. What remained after the battle was a village that was barely a quarter of its former self. Withered corpses and carcasses strewn around as far as his vision took him.

It felt like a night had pass but it was only an hour and some after midnight when Robert looked at his pocket watch. The watch was Iora’s parting gift, on the surface. Robert knew it was intended as a reminder of her existence in his life.

Robert felt her fondness was too unnatural. He never knew affection could bloom so quick. Perhaps to her, Robert was her sanctuary. Someone she could confide in with her deepest darkest secrets and desires. She certainly was quick to accustomed herself to certain acts, Robert noted.

Robert sighed and stowed away the pocket watch. He was a tad worried at what this entail for the future.

“Oh my, you lived, Mr. Spy.” a sweet but chilling voice called out to Robert.

“Valena,” Robert greeted back as he turned around to see a lady in an obviously fabricated and undulating black skin.

With a hand on her chest, the girl made an exaggerated show that she was slightly taken aback. “Oh? You knew my mistress?”

“Your mistress?” Robert questioned, dubiously. “I see, you’re not Valena.” He eyed her body and her expression. Her gait and perennial predisposition for speaking definitely did not resemble the Valena he knew.

“My name is Seven. Valena is my humble mistress and the one who generously allow me to walk this mortal plane in this very mortal flesh.”

And everything fell into place. “You’re the one in her shadow.”

“Correction, Mr. Spy. I am her shadow.” She tittered with her hand on her lips. “Now, tell me. How did you come to know my mistress?”

Robert considered her question awhile before answering, “I’m a freshman at Mavern’s Academy, same as your mistress.” It was quite odd to him that the stout girl, Samara noticed his intruding gaze but not Seven.

“A fellow student. Such coincidence,” and her eyes turned suggestive, “or is it?”

“Is it what?”

Her eyes darkened. “No one knows my mistress. Not even everyone in the family knows. They knew only of her name, Valena but no one bothered to put a face to the name. But you, boy, you had a face for that name. So please, for your own sake, Do. Not. Lie. Who are you?”

“I’m not stalking you nor am I a spy from your family— but you already know that.”

She sharpened a shadow. “Pray tell, what makes you so sure?”

“Because you didn’t tell on me.”

“Yes, you are correct but you still have not answered my question, who are you?”

“Look around you and take a guess. Who else and what kind of person would want to be here?”

“Obstinate, you are and so impertinent. But—” the barbed shadow give out and Seven beamed, “not bad. You know, I took you for a dullard when you airily offered me that bar.”

“That cat was truly you, not a medium?”

“I told you, Mr. Spy. I am Seven— well, I guess it would be more accurate to say, we are Seven.”

“Six cats…” Robert mused, “and there’s you. Which makes it, seven.”

Seven bobbed her head up and down. “So, Mr. Spy, what brings you out to these parts? And by what, I mean your motivations.” She returned back to her main question.

“I can ask the same question. Wouldn’t your mistress’ family be worried?”

“If you know the face to her name, you must have known her circumstances, no?”

“That bad?”

Seven nodded. “It is that bad. If she were to drop dead out of nowhere in her own room, it would take the whole day at the very least for anyone to realize.”

“My condolences. Your mistress really had it rough.”

“It is not entirely rough. She still gets to eat delicious food, sleep in a warm bed, and a place to take shelter from rain and snow. She had it rather smooth, in fact.”

Robert covertly withdrew a dagger. “Well, good for her but unfortunately, I will have to—” Robert felt something tugging on his feet. He looked down to see his own shadow ensnaring him. There was a thin line of shadow that bridged his shadow with Seven’s.

“So sly, Mr. Spy— hey, it rhymes!”

“Release me, Seven. I do not wish it to be difficult.”

“You are most definitely welcome to try.”

“I will,” Robert said and vermilion scales manifested around his feet. The shadow melted off against the scales.

“Dragon scales?” Seven blurted out with her eyes stretched at the phenomenon. It was an obscured fact. Dragon scales had high resistance against Magic, which contributed a lot to their status as the apex.

Robert dashed towards her. He drew out a short sword, infused it with Magic to the utmost, which he then tossed it up into the air. In his other hand, he had a dagger. He focus on Seven’s eyes, which followed the sword he threw.

“Bold of you to look away?” Robert drew her eyes back to him.

With an unsympathetic gaze, Seven sent her shadows at Robert.

He gracefully dodged the shadows which didn’t seem fully intend to hurt him and he easily closed the gap between them. He slashed with his dagger but shadows rose in the path of the blade. Without a breath wasted, he withdrew a long sword and thrust. The long blade found only futility and hardened shadows.

Robert smirked and loosened his grip on the long sword and caught the short sword which fell into his hand. The proximity left no room for Seven to retaliate and and she was already feeling the cold and hardness of steel against her neck.

It was a surprise to Robert that the shadows clad on her skin wasn’t hardened or impenetrable like the shadows she sent after him. He guessed that the shadow skin wasn’t meant to defend against direct attacks. It was most likely merely there as a barrier for Limbo’s grasp. No longer feeling the need, he retrieved the Magic he infused into the short sword.

“Mister, it is rude to leave a girl waiting.” Seven was still sounding cheerful despite having a blade on the verge of cutting into her mistress’ flesh.

Robert looked into Seven’s eyes. “You have killed many,” he said with certainty.

“Thank you,” she responded, proudly.

“Be that as it may, have you killed anyone who wasn’t trying to kill you?”

Seven stayed silent. She forced a smile but it vanished as quick as it came.

“Of course you haven’t. I can see the hesitations in your attacks. You’re not sure if I was going to kill you.”

“You are correct, Mr. Spy but need I remind you that you are someone trying to kill me now,” she said, pointing at the blade.

“I’m not worried,” Robert wiggled the blade against her throat.

Seven frowned, “then what are you waiting for.”

“The departure of my sense of duty’s obligations.” And Robert muttered softly, “no witnesses…”

“While I am not entirely afraid of death but my mistress raises a different opinion.” Seven let off a sorrowful smile. “Perhaps we can come to an agreement, what say you, Mr. Spy?”

“Ross, my name is Robert Ross.”

“Well then, Mr. Ross, can we talk this out, peacefully?”

“Depends.”

“State your conditions, then.”

“I have several questions.”

“Shoot.”

“What are you and how are you not affected by Limbo?”

Seven tipped her head. “I am amazed. You know about Limbo. I know a lot of people heard of it but they still would not recognize it even if it was right in front of their eyes. But you, you know.”

“Answer my question, Seven.” Robert pressed the blade against her neck.

“Of course, of course. I am a Spirit, so to speak.”

“What kind of Spirit?”

“Spirits are Spirits. We are all one and the same but human arbitrary put their obsessions of labeling onto us too. We are ethereal beings that only had a beginning but no end. We do not age. We are simply hold the moment we came into existence. When we are destroyed, we simply became dormant until the time is ripe for us to appear again.”

“Are your kind perhaps fragments of Gods?”

“No. We are not. Gods do not even know of our existence. We maybe relevant to the world but way up in their thrones, the Gods cannot even see us a speck. That is how we are to the Gods. And for your second question, Limbo suspend everything on the fine line of the beginning and the end. For Spirits, we have no end and thus, Limbo does not affect us.”

Robert was listening attentively and even unconsciously rubbing his chin.

“Does that satisfied your curiosity?” Seven asked with an innocent tone. She even tried twinkling her eyes.

“Not even close. Why are you here?”

“Generally speaking, to save the world,” Seven answered, plainly.

Robert eased up the blade on Seven’s neck upon hearing her words.

Seven caught the meaning of his gesture and she didn’t miss how Robert reared back a little. She grinned, “you already know about it, do you not? These aberrations that happened throughout the world, it is as much as your problem and mine as it is the world’s. The aberrations or as the humans called it, the anomalies, they will spread and there will be more. Not everyone see it as their problems, not now at least, but eventually, it will be everyone’s problems.”

“The Spirits are fighting back too?”

“Yes and no. Some decided to just let it be. Let the whole world be consumed and let the world be reborn from the ashes again. As for the other Spirits, they wish to save the world. They are simply too fond of this world to see it be destroyed.”

“And you, you’re part of the saving faction?”

“I was not but now I am, I suppose.”

“What changed your mind?”

“My mistress,” tittering, she answered. “She was lonely. She was looking for a friend then. Whether it was chance or fate, I was there as she prayed for a companion in her solitude. We talked and we became friends. Thanks to her, I could no longer turn my back against this world that my mistress lives in. I have to find a way to stop it but as you can see, I am doing a splendid job, absolutely.”

“Yeah, you’re doing a splendid job at absolutely nothing,” Robert murmured out of his heart.

Seven scowled.

Robert realized her stare. “Oh, I’m sorry. Was that out loud? My mistake.”

“Truly impudent, you are.” Her face painted a mixture of pleasantness and vexation. “Would that be all of your conditions, Mr. Ross?”

Robert bit down on his lips and heavy-heartily parted the dagger from Seven’s neck. He let out a heavy sigh. “You better hope they respect my decision,” he told Seven.

“Well, I will be most grateful if you make sure ‘they’ respect your decision.”

Robert said nothing in return. Leaving Seven’s side with an exasperated gaze, he moved to collect the various scattered articles of the deceased, most particularly, Baxton’s mace and the clergymen’s Storage Rings. He didn’t look through the rings but he made a mental note to rummage through it after he left Limbo.

Seven followed closely behind Robert as he went about the village to scour for any more objects of interest. She was caressing the spot where the blade had been as she spoke, “what will you ever do if you left a scar on my mistress’ skin?” She gazed at Robert with her lips pursed.

“Marry her?”

Seven froze.

Robert chortled. Seven’s genuine astonished expression was a feast for his eyes.

Her frozen stare turned into a glower. “I do not appreciate your humor, Mr. Ross.”

“Humor, huh. I guess that’s one way to look at it.”

“What ever do you mean by that, Mr. Ross? Pray tell.” Her shadows were showing barbs.

Smiling wryly and without stopping his work, Robert retorted, “If fate allows, I will gladly take her hand. She’s quite a pretty girl, after all.”

“Or maybe you just want to fuck her, like everyone else.”

It was a word Robert did not expect from the lips of a beauty but after his fight with Baxton and the Raksa and getting pulled into Limbo, it wasn’t as queer as it sounded.

Robert found a pouch of Ris and a strange looking sword with a curved blade off the thug leader’s withered corpse which he pocketed both for himself. “If she was to offer herself, I don’t see any reason to say no,” Robert dryly retorted.

“Oh, dear Mr. Ross, how I would very much love to see your head on my shadow spikes. But it is a pity that you might just be my only way out of here.”

Robert glared, “you know a way out?”

Seven returned the glare, blinking, “I was hoping that you do.”

“I don’t have a way but I do have an idea.”

“Say it.”

“We wait for dawn. Maybe then we might just get thrown back into our world, hopefully.”

“Hopefully? Perchance that fortune scorned at us?”

“I would like to think that I make a good husband,” Robert answered without much thought.

Seven narrowed her eyes, “then you better pray your idea to be a fact.” Shadows brimming with barbs rose behind her.

“Well, I concur” Robert glanced over to the woods where the leaves were rustling louder and louder. “We’re not alone here.” He drew out the newly acquired saber and his usual dagger.

“Lets hope you can last as long as I can,” as soon Seven said those words, the monsters of Limbo appeared from the darkness of the woods. “This shall be a long night to come.”