The archbishop had left me alone in her study. It was filled with comfortable leather chairs, several white marble bookshelves, and a large white marble desk. There were more of those golden sun serpents on the wall, but few other decorations, besides a small wine rack and glasses.
I'd gotten in exactly three swings with the cane before the archbishop took it back. The excited grin that suddenly appeared on my face, no matter what it looked like, hadn't been some sort of perverted enjoyment. Yes, I was excited, but not for what was going on—well, not for that part of what was going on. No, my excitement was for the damage prompts. Each strike elected a point of damage. And each point of damage created a little prompt.
I'd nearly fainted when Varla confirmed that I was in a universe with video game mechanics. A few more quick questions to the archbishop and my hopes were confirmed. Not only could I level, but there were also monsters and dungeons.
I was so giddy with mad excitement that my anger fled. I'd barely paid attention to the crying girl as the archbishop continued to strike her in what seemed like an endless stream of punishment. Each new answer Varla gave created another question and another exciting answer.
I was living every gamer's dream.
I was going to get to be a wizard, or maybe a spellsword, or perhaps I'd become a barbarian. No, probably not a barbarian—getting hit with a cane looked like it hurt, and claws and swords would likely be a whole lot worse.
A fit of crazed giggles escaped me. It shook my body and left me breathless. I didn't care. I hadn't felt this great since I was a child, back when sugar and friends were enough to leave me floating.
Some part of me knew the feeling couldn't last, that reality would catch up with me. I ignored that little voice, squashing it down into a corner where I didn't have to listen to it.
I smiled and opened my interface again, using the method Varla taught me. It was so easy. I only needed to think and there it was.
Name: Arnold
Class: Pending
Level: 0, 0%
STATS
Health: 100
Stamina: 100
Mana: 100
ATTRIBUTES
Strength: 10
Endurance: 10
Dexterity: 10
Agility: 10
Constitution: 10
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 10
???
TITLES
Incarnate:
People find you 500% more interesting.
MARKS
I was still opening and closing the interface when the study door opened. The archbishop walked in, with a gorgeous, midnight black cat at her heels. She crossed the room to the wine rack, selected a bottle, and opened it. She poured herself a glass. Then she took a seat behind her desk, placing the bottle down without offering me any.
She finished the glass in a single swallow and then poured another. "Serpent above, this mess has me pulling my hair out." She flicked her gaze to me. "I've been thinking about your reaction back in the temple. Am I to understand you are happy with your current situation?"
"I'm excited and that's not close to the same as happy," I said. "Why?"
"Circumstances like yours are rare, but they do happen. It is standard practice to offer those in your situation the opportunity to be sent back to their universe. However, even if your body is alive, there is less than a 1% chance I will be successful without another cleric to receive and reintegrate your soul into your body."
I lost some of my excitement. "You kill people in other universes regularly enough to have standard practices for sending them back?"
She took a sip of wine. "No. It is very rare for a cleric to have the power to pull a soul from a living body. Usually, people in your situation have recently died in their universe. Their soul is in transit and accidentally mistaken for their counterpart. However, like I said that is not always the case, and several centuries ago, there was a woman, Morgana, who was also taken from her universe while alive. She made it her life's work to return to her world. She succeeded in developing a safe and reliable method, which forced the crown to pass Morgana's Law, mandating the temple offer any in her situation the opportunity to return. So I have to make the offer."
"Less than 1% chance at life. No thanks."
She took another sip. "At least you aren't an idiot. Now, what do you want to do about your murder?"
I leaned back and crossed my arms, losing a bit more excitement. "What do you mean?"
"Damella killed you. She may not have done so intentionally, but the result is the same. I'm not sure how your world works, but in ours, that can be considered a crime. Would you like me to inform the city guard?"
The last of my excitement left me. I hadn't actually thought this far ahead. "What would they do to her?"
The archbishop took a long swallow, almost draining her glass of wine. "She's from a powerful family, but the law is the law. She didn't murder you in our world, so there is no chance of her going feral, which means this would be treated as an accidental murder through negligence. At the very least, she'd receive twenty-five years of hard labour."
Damn!
"And if you don't go to the guard?"
"She'd remain here to continue her training, but I would take a personal interest in her. She certainly won't be performing any more resurrections."
"Let me think about it," I said.
I was quoting my father. He'd always say that when something threw him. No matter how hard you pushed him, he wouldn't make a decision right then and there if he didn't feel ready to. It was one of the more useful tricks he taught me. Right now, I needed more information. "What's going to happen to me?"