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Lyra loathed her family and her village. The memories from those times were nothing but hateful. She hated the tradition and the culture. She thought things would turn out for the better after she was exiled with her friend-turned-lover. But it didn’t. Her lover succumbed to the other side of the law. Appalled, she abandoned him.

Few weeks after her arrival in the small town of Green Scar, Lyra met her. A beacon of hope for her miserable life. She had never felt such comfort before. Not even when she was together with her friend who she was infatuated with since childhood. Erin was a woman and a person that Lyra could no longer imagine her life without.

Their first encounter was like a page of a fairy tale to Lyra. Love struck her heart the moment she found Erin sleeping so serene against a boulder and without any caution to her environment. Lyra knew little of the Fae’s beauty standards but somehow, she knew Erin was a beauty among beauties even among the Fae. Furthermore, Erin had a gentle but firm heart. She was even an extremely capable fighter to boot.

She was the perfect woman in Lyra’s eyes. After their first night together, Lyra swore to herself that she would never forsake Erin. She would never treat her wrong albeit for the few times she let her jealousy and insecurity overwhelmed her.

Still, Lyra just wanted to be with her. It wouldn’t be exaggerated to even say Erin was her drug.

Which was why she made the choice of saving Erin’s life at the expense of others’. A slight tinge of guilt was smeared over her heart but it was a stain she gladly bore for the sake of Erin. Lyra was prepared for Erin’s sharp reproval and she didn’t mind. To be with Erin, she was even prepared to defy a nation.

Lyra fought and struggled with the utmost desperation against an adversary that spelt of their demise. Her consciousness left her body when the Wight choked the air out of her. When she had regained her consciousness, she saw Erin locked in a desperate fight with the Wight. Erin didn’t have her swords with her. She was fighting with her bare fists and also her tails. It was clear that Erin had a better chance at beating her head against a wall. The Wight was practically, for a lack of better word, immortal in Lyra’s eyes. Not even the staple decapitation trick was effective.

Lyra knew that she had to help but her quiver was barren and going in with swords would just be courting a useless death. Without attracting their attention, Lyra whipped her whole aching body to move and went from houses to houses, in search of something she could possibly use.

By chance, it wasn’t long before she stumbled upon a shed filled with hunting tools and materials. There were even two quivers of arrows hanging by the wall. The arrows weren’t as good as the ones she crafted but being a beggar currently, she didn’t have the liberty to choose. She ended taking the two quivers with her. She also took some other tools with her lest her bow or her skills failed her.

To her despair and disbelief, she came back at a crucial moment that shattered her heart and hope to pieces. Erin had somehow retrieved her sword but her arms were trapped under the despicable smirking undead’s arms. The Wight twisted her arms until a sharp sound was heard. Erin’s ear-piercing scream followed. Lyra stood in shock as she witnessed the unbelievable scene, the defeat of Erin, a person she couldn’t imagine losing even with the most terrible odds against her favor. Before Lyra could intervene, the Wight had taken Erin’s own blade and thrust it through her chest.

Lyra froze before even a single arrow was nocked.

When a second passed, she screamed and cried her beloved’s name. Erin offered a faint smile as a response before hitting the ground, laying still afterwards. There wasn’t even the slightest twist in her fingers.

The Wight then turned to Lyra. It had the widest triumphant grin on its face.

Lyra’s face twisted with despair and anger.

Aedan was a Dragon-kin. Lyra was well-aware of their acute senses. Aedan should have caught wind of their distress by now. Moreover, she was well-aware that she had a horn that could send out a distress signal. Maybe he prioritized his own secrets over his companions’ wellbeing or maybe there were other circumstances. However, none of those crossed her mind at the very moment. The only thing in her mind was the smug Wight, the lifeless body of Erinthea, and her immediate desire for vengeance.

She wanted to see the Wight dead by her own hands.

Void of all sound reasoning, Lyra fired an arrow at the Wight. The abominable creature received the shot without any attempts to evade it. It hit its forehead but it smiled and began striding towards Lyra at a walking pace.

Instead of fleeing, Lyra fired another arrow. This time at where the heart resided, or at least when the Wight was still a human. The Wight shrugged ever so slightly and continued its stride without havering.

Lyra cared not for her futile attempts. She released arrows after arrows at the unflinching Wight. She aimed at all the possible parts of the Wight’s body. She pressed on her assault until she completely exhausted the arrows from the quiver.

Before she could switch to the other quiver, the Wight had closed in on her. She dropped her bow and drew a long knife she retrieved from the hunter’s shed.

She wasn’t as strong as Erin so shallow cuts were all she could manage. She was slower than Erin but nevertheless quicker than the Wight. As a woman through and through, Lyra was more accustomed to agile and nimble movements. She twisted her body out of the way of every attack the Wight swiped at her. In quick retaliations, she landed shallow cuts. This technique only worked because the Wight was a monster and it fought like one; no matter how much it resembled a person. Had the Wight fought like a person, Lyra’s deft movements would easily be repelled.

Still, that wasn’t enough. Lyra could only dance around for so long before her stamina was depleted.

The Wight caught the knife but Lyra discarded her weapon immediately and switched to a hatchet. She carved the small axe into the head of the Wight. It stumbled a step away but that was all it did. Lodged too deep into its skull, Lyra was forced to abandon that weapon too. She was down to her last weapon, a dagger presumably used for skinning. However, the dagger was instantly rendered useless when the Wight used its palm as a shield. Left with no more tools to fight back, she resorted to her fist.

She landed a clean punch but her own knuckles were the ones that suffered from the assault. Before she could utter her agony, the Wight grasped her by the jaws. It raised her off the ground with only a single hand, showing off the difference in their strength.

Sadism was a common trait found in a lot of monster kinds. Scholars had not yet figured out why.

The Wight sniggered at its apparent victory at finally catching its victim. It was thinking up of ways to drag out Lyra’s suffering. It couldn’t stop chuckling at its own ideas. The Wight was shuddering at the fun it could have with its new victim.

But then—

“Let her go,” a voice demanded the Wight to release its victim.

Confusion and disbelief clouded the Wight’s mind, if it even had an intact one. It threw Lyra aside and turned to face the one who dared to utter such demands with poise. The Wight froze, eyes and mouth agape ironic incredulity.

The owner of the voice was none other than Erin. She was back on her feet. The hole in her chest had closed up but left a striking scar. In her hand was her silver-steel saber.

“I am not dead, you abominable bastard,” Erin taunted.

****

“Well… that was awfully quick, I say,” remarked a voice that trod the boundaries of two genders. “Quite disappointing, really.”

Erin sat still on the floor, staring at an orb of iridescent light, shining ever so radiantly. Yet, the immense brightness did not bother her by the tiniest bit. The voice originated from the orb of light.

However, that peculiar entity wasn’t her greatest concern.

“Where am I?” Erin glanced around. As far as her sight could see, there was only white. She wasn’t even sitting on something solid. When she gave it a gentle tap, it felt soft and elastic but she doubted it was something as fragile as it felt.

“This place is Limbo,” the orb answered. “You can say this is the midpoint between realms. The bridge between the living and the dead.”

Only then Erin remembered her fate prior. “Am I dead?”

“Mortally speaking, yes, quite so. But in truth, you’re not fully dead. You’re dead in a mortal sense but your soul is still— well, your soul has yet to leave to join the cycle.”

Erin recalled the things Aedan had told her. “It’s real...” she thought to herself. She stared at the orb. “Who are you?”

“Don’t you recognize my voice?” The orb replied with another question. It carried a playful tone with all of its words. “You’re a smart lass— well, or lad. I’m sure you’ll figure it out.”

Erin looked at her hands, those thin, smooth, and delicate hands. She touched her own face. She confirmed she was still Erin. And she was naked. Yet, shame did not register in her mind.

“I see you’re enjoying your new body. You had quite some fun too with it. Perhaps some gratitude is in order?”

The orb’s words triggered an epiphany. Erin stared at the orb. “It’s you. You’re the one responsible for this; my circumstances.”

The orb chuckled. “Bingo. I knew you can figure it out by yourself.”

Erin ignored the strange jargon it used. “Why…?” she asked.

“Huh? Why? Why what?”

“Why did you turn me into a woman!?” Erin roared. "And that Lust Deviant skill... that's a cross you bestowed, isn't it?"

“Whoa there. I was not expecting that. I thought you had a good time with your new body, and that cross you so resent, you'll be down on your knees with gratitude one day.”

“Irrelevant,” Erin retorted with a deepening crease on her brows. “I appreciate your generosity at giving me a second chance but was all that change necessary? ”

“Quite so,” the orb answered dryly. “For my amusement, that is.”

“Is that why you reincarnated me into another world with my memories as Argon Raze? For your amusement?”

“Heh? No no no no, of course not.” The orb paused for a while. “Well, your new sultry body is certainly for my amusement, but your reincarnation and transmigration however, it holds a paramount cause. That includes that cross of yours too.”

“A paramount cause, which is?”

“Investment,” the orb gave a short answer.

“Investment?” Erin asked with an eyebrow raised. “What kind of investment?”

“Fate, as you know, is very whimsical, even to Gods. There’s just no telling what would happen next. Fate is the one thing Gods have no full control over. It can be changed. It can be leveraged. It can be exploited. But it can never be expunged. It will run its course, one way or another.”

“I'm not good with riddles and I don't like them. Just get to your point, before I lose it!”

“You know why we have mortals build shrines in our name?”

“To stroke your overinflated ego?”

The orb chuckled. “That too but the main reason is— we need mortals just as much as mortals need us. There are other beings out there in the world. You think Gods are dangerous and volatile? These beings put Gods to shame with their voracity. They feed on worlds, especially worlds brimming with lives. The mortals’ beliefs give us strength and power to combat these foes. The stronger their belief, and the more believers a God has, the mightier a God becomes.”

“Then why me? Why not someone who likes to preach?”

“Despite how it seems, preaching doesn’t get faith very far. It only raises awareness but it doesn’t enhance the beliefs. Action speaks louder than words, as humans always tend to say.”

“You think I will spread your name in my ventures?”

The orb chuckled again. “I don’t think. I am sure of it. Even if you don’t, others will know. They will inadvertently spread my name.”

“Others?”

“Other… apostles, agents, champions, emissaries, whatever you wish to call it. The one chosen by God to represent them.”

“Why would they spread the names of other Gods?”

“Inadvertently. It’s not intentional. They will come to challenge you in the name of their Patron God. In doing so, they revealed my name in issuing their challenge. Like I said, inadvertently."

"And how would these... apostles know who I am?"

"Apostles will recognize other apostles. Call it the effect of God’s blessing. Neat, isn’t it?”

Erin grimaced. “Troublesome, more like it. And that gift of yours, it had on multiple occasions almost almost brought me irremediable grief. So thanks, no thanks, you can have it back.”

“I express my wholehearted condolences." The orb's laugh echoed into the white hollow space. "But what can you do, Erinthea? I'm already your Patron God and you are my apostle.”

"Revert everything back then."

"Not possible anymore, not if I want to kill you which I have no intention of doing. You're a hefty investment, Erinthea. My investment. Until I get my return yields, you are not allowed to die."

Erin knew there was no point in arguing with this self-proclaim God any further. The God had no intentions of reverting their decision and she had no intention to beat her head against a wall. In the end, she could only sighed in defeat. “The person who killed me when I was still Argon Raze… Is he your apostle?” she asked.

The orb tried to nod but it came off as a failed attempt to roll. “He is,” it answered.

“You send him to kill me? Just so you can reincarnate me as a Fox-kin girl?”

“I didn’t send him to kill you. I sent for him to find a worthy individual to be my apostle. You were the one who threw yourself into his path, remember?”

Erin kept silent. She was the one who attacked first after she perceived the strength of the young man. She still remembered it vividly; how the young man roused his appetite for fighting, and how she initiated the challenge that brought about her demise.

“In the fight, he saw how capable you are and most importantly, he’s able to gauge your heart. Ignoring your muscle brain, you have a good heart. A good head, for most times. A healthy and strong mind. And you’re skilled. You were simply the perfect choice for being my champion. Perhaps this is also a whim of fate that guided you to him, and thus, to me.”

Erin had no words to say. She could have avoided this situation had she curbed her lust for battle. She brought this upon herself, in a way.

Still, it wasn’t all that terrible. She lost her chastity for one and she had women fawning all over her. Despite their personality, it did feel good to be popular with the ladies. She also got to learn magic albeit only at the surface stage. Her second life had certainly been more fulfilling than her past life which was nothing but sword and blood.

“So… what now?” Erin asked.

“What else?” The orb shrugged but it ended up bobbing up and down. “You are going back to the living realm and have your vengeance.”

“You want me to kill that thing? Impossible. I have tried everything. With my current limits, it would take a miracle.”

The orb laughed.

“What’s so funny?”

The orb tried to speak amidst its laughter. “Obviously, you didn’t try everything and no, you wouldn’t need a miracle. What you need is to acknowledge your current identity. You may have accepted it but have you actually embraced it?”

“I did embrace my new self.”

“Your battle form says otherwise. Cast aside your rigid way of fighting. You have the ability to end that miserable abomination’s existence. You only need to embrace who you are. You’re not Argon Raze the Sword Saint, anymore. You’re Erinthea, a Fae, a Fox-kin, you are the apostle of Nyx. My champion.”

“Nyx?”

“That’s my name, Nyx.”

“And how should I address you?”

“Just Nyx is enough. I don’t fancy titles.” The orb, Nyx, faked a cough. “Anyways, I’ll be resurrecting you.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

“Aren’t Gods not suppose to meddle with mortal affairs?”

Nyx chuckled once more. “That’s a misconception. We are allowed to meddle with mortal affairs as long as we do it with moderation and our acts are known only to the ones we trust to keep it a secret. The only present at your deathbed is the Wight and your lover. One of them would be dead soon and the other one would definitely bring this secret to her grave.”

“She’s not my lover,” Erin denied.

Nyx scoffed. “I’m sure she isn’t but that’s not relevant at present. Now, before I revive you, I must advise to stop being so… reckless.”

“I don’t think I’m reckless.”

“You are reckless. You’re the type that would keep throwing yourself into odds that were never in your favor, expecting your persistence to conjure a miracle. Admittedly, that notion has worked more times than I expected in your past life but it seems, your luck ended here. Now, even if I can revive you, that doesn’t mean that you will always be in the right circumstances to be revived. I know telling you to be wary and heedful of your odds is futile, which is why I’ll be giving you a glaring reminder.”

“A glaring reminder?”

[Unique Talent: Revenant - Acquired]

“Huh?” Erin blurted out. “What’s this—?”

“Well, that’s all for now. It's time for your rematch. And I sincerely hope we won’t be seeing each other very soon.”

Before Erin could utter her objections, the white world disappeared. The next time she opened her eyes, she was back in the ruined village, with the saber still impaled through her chest. But strangely, the intense pain was no longer there.

“Now what?”