Rock stared at Deklan in confusion.
From the way he sees it, he was the one standing, and Deklan was the one dying on the ground.
But Deklan's smirk made him feel uneasy.
Even though he didn't know what Deklan meant, his instincts were telling him to deal the final blow right now before it was too late. "A dead man talking big?" Rock's machete hummed with brown mana as he swung down in a vicious arc. "Die!"
Before his attack could connect, Deklan's body burst.
Swoosh!
A torrent of wind struck and pushed Rock back, stopping his attacking momentum mid-swing.
Rock raised his gaze and sucked in a cold breath in shock.
Despite having his stomach stabbed, Deklan was standing on his feet—eyes staring straight ahead.
On the side, the Red Pumpkin Head became hectic—its body bounced up and down frantically until it poofed into a red smoke. Guided by the wind, or maybe Deklan becoming a magnet, the smoke swirled and went towards him.
Before Rock's very eyes, the red smoke seeped into Deklan's body.
And he transformed.
A deep crimson hue bled into existence around Deklan, spreading like blood.
Threads of liquid intertwined, weaving themselves into a flowing red cloak—that cascaded down his body, draping over his shoulders and chest before ending in tattered edges that fluttered with an air of ominosity that sent a chill down Rock's spine.
His head was shrouded by the cloak entirely, its shadow swallowing his face, leaving only his eyes.
Red glowing eyes that were more focused, cold, and steady.
His ashen-gold hair lengthened, losing its luster as it transformed into coarse strands of hay, swaying faintly as if caught in an unseen breeze. Beneath the cloak, his frame stretched taller, leaner, like he was no longer human.
'Possession?' Rock stepped back unconsciously. 'He's a gold-rank Exorcist?!'
Gold-rank Exorcists were capable of transforming into their persona, taking in the form that would be more compatible with the metaphysical realm. It grants them a boost of power beyond imagining, which pushes them beyond their limits.
Seeing Deklan turning into this caught him completely off guard.
'No, that can't be… He couldn't even match, so he's surely an iron-rank weakling. How?'
Rock immediately raised his machete when Deklan made his move.
In an instant, Deklan ate the distance between them before Rock could even take another step back.
Clang!
"Krgghk!" Rock blocked the spear and gritted his teeth.
He immediately noticed that Deklan's strength rose even further to the point of matching his.
As Rock flexed his muscles and stopped, his eyes dilated in surprise.
Something was heading straight towards him; he could see how it glistened under the moonlight.
A small object.
Rock cleaved the object into two with his machete, but soon realized that it was a small pumpkin head.
And inside of it was a concentrated mana.
Boom!
It exploded right before his face, hurling him away like a broken doll.
His face was charred and burnt.
Rock anticipated a lot of things from tonight, but him being reduced to this state was beyond his expectations.
Splash!
Given no chance to retaliate at all, Rock stopped abruptly as a spear pierced through his back, impaling him from behind. He looked over his shoulder with blood trickling down his chin, finding that Deklan was already behind him.
"You… Screw you!"
Rock wanted to retaliate, but Deklan already kicked him, freeing him from the spear.
He scrambled out of balance.
Despite the anger he felt from being defeated by a well-known trash, there was simply nothing he could do as his mind was all over the place. Even standing still required the immense effort that he couldn't muster in his state.
Strength was leaving him through the gaping hole in his chest.
As he turned, the only thing he saw was the cold gleam of moonlight running along a sharpened blade.
Swish!
Rock blinked his eyes once. Twice. And then, the world suddenly shifted.
His head slid off his shoulders and dropped to the ground.
Not too far before him, Deklan was standing with his back straight—his spearhead dripped with blood.
At that moment, Rock realized what had happened, but death claimed him a second after.
Deklan decapitated Rock with one clean strike.
Even though he was merely a 1-star Iron rank trash, he defeated a bronze rank Exorcist.
[Sudden Quest completed!]
[30 Spooky Dollars and 3x Basic Mana Candy have been rewarded.]
[Skill Issue (Bronze) achievement has been completed!]
[70 Spooky Dollars and 1x Strength Ritual have been awarded!]
[Good work, host. Looking bad there, but you managed to pull through.]
Deklan read the notifications and couldn't help but crack a smile—this was his very first fight in this new world, and he managed to excel in it. "I was doubting myself whether I really can do it, but I really did," He uttered and basked in the moonlight. "Dad, wait for me. I'm coming back."
[Agna the Red Scarecrow Persona has reached its time limit. Possession deactivated.]
Just then, the crimson cloak retracted and disappeared.
His hair turned back to normal, and the threatening aura he was emanating disappeared.
Deklan reverted, but the moment he reverted, blood burst from his mouth.
Once again, the stab wound on his stomach bled out, and the pain was so excruciating that Deklan fell to his knees almost instantly. He panted heavily, pressing on the wound as his vision rapidly began to blur—even Rock's corpse turned hazy.
Shit… I'm passing out.
[Warning: Host's insides are bleeding out.]
[Stomach wound worsening. Blood loss is accelerating.]
[If left untreated, death is imminent.]
Cold sweat trickled down his face.
Deklan quickly took out the Healing Cream from his inventory and scurried over to open the lid.
His hand was wet with mud and blood.
It's hard to open the Healing Cream's lid because of it.
Frantically, Deklan did his best to open the Healing Cream, his only bet to survive the situation, but he couldn't. He doesn't have any strength left to open the damn lid, and before he knows it, the world is spinning, "You've got to be kidding me…"
His eyes rolled backward as his body slumped forward.
Thud!
Beyond the backyard, the woods carried the wet thudding echo of the Healing Cream's fall.
But even so, life moved on as if nothing had happened.
Silence settled after Deklan's collapse—broken only by the wind whispering through branches.
It weaved through tangled roots and fallen leaves until it reached a young woman no older than twenty moving through the night woods with practiced care. Her sapphire eyes are glowing slightly with mana, showing that she's not a regular human, but an Exorcist.
Her fingers brushed the undergrowth for edible shoots.
From her clothes alone—an off-shoulder white blouse under a black corset bodice and a long beige skirt that dragged through the mud—It was clear that she came from a humble background. She was carrying a basket, near empty, searching for anything that could be eaten.
But she was already two hours deep, and there was barely anything in her basket.
"What am I supposed to do…?" She muttered, leaning against a tree trunk.
Recalling the situation in Slosa Hamlet, her hometown, despair and anguish pressed against her back.
Even so, she paused only for a few seconds as she resumed her search.
Hope was the last thing she could hope to lose.
As she reached a clearing, she paused and looked at the small hut ahead—in that moment, she recalled that Young Master Deklan was living there. Backed into the corner, she braced herself and approached the small hut.
It was then, her eyes caught sight of people, rather, corpses, scattered across the mud.
"Young master…?"
…
An unknown amount of time passed.
Deklan was lying on the bed; the sunlight seeping through the window disturbed his good rest.
His eyelids trembled slightly before eventually opening.
"Eughh…"
Deklan groaned in soreness as he looked out of the window, eyes still barely opened.
"What time is it? Did I oversleep? Fuck, I forgot to make breakfast. Paul is going to kill me," He mused lightly as he stretched his body—and rubbed his eyes; his soul was still stuck somewhere in the clouds. "I should really get up."
Just then, when his soul came back and settled in him properly, memories surged back.
Deklan abruptly sat up and held his stomach.
He quite remembered what happened that night when the group infiltrated his turf.
And he specifically remembered him failing to use the Healing Cream.
"Fuck, I survived? Thank fucking God." Deklan sighed in relief, as it would be embarrassing if he'd died after single-handedly defeating the group. "But wait, I thought the system said death is imminent. How did I survive?"
Looking down, he noted that this abdomen was wrapped in bandages neatly.
Clearly, someone had helped him.
Deklan snapped towards the door when he heard footsteps approaching.
He grabbed his white spear from his bedside and forced himself to stand.
It was a struggle to climb out of bed, but he managed and immediately pointed the spear at the door.
Once the door clicked and was pushed open, Deklan immediately thrust forward.
"Kyaaah~!"
Thud!
A woman came to view.
She was carrying a bucket of water, but dropped it when she saw a spearhead aimed at her neck.
Deklan's sharp eyes stared at the woman, but he immediately lowered his guard when the woman fell to the floor weakly. Her face was strained with genuine fear and shock, which clearly showed that she had no bad intentions.
Besides, if she really had bad intentions, she would've done so when he was unconscious.
Killing him would be easy then.
Sigh… I'm still on edge. Almost dying will do that to someone, huh.
Even though the night had already come to pass, the sensation still lingered.
He scratched the back of his head and placed the spear down.
"Y-Young master…?" She called, voice trembling.
Deklan looked at the woman again, properly looked at her, and immediately turned his face away.
He covered his mouth, hiding his glee.
She's so pretty and pure! Is this it? Am I finally worthy of a pleasant cliché? Is this the cute maid who will be devoted to me—and only me? I'm sure she is… She even brought a bucket of water. How kind can she be to take care of a stranger like me?
Deklan folded his arms, rubbing his chin.
How should I act? Should I act calm and composed? That is the best, isn't it?
Deklan felt a shiver of excitement running down his spine.
He cleared his throat and looked at the woman—his face calm, but he could barely contain his smile.
And it was breaking through.
"Who are you?" He asked, using his sexy, deep voice.
Expecting the woman to introduce herself shyly with a blush, Deklan waited patiently for her to answer, but she frowned when, instead of a blush, the woman's expression was pale. It was almost like she was looking at a Ghost.
[Hey, deadbeat, your Eerie Smile skill is active.]
"Ah… Well, fuck."