[Lunia, Black Horse Inn]
In the familiar building where the Blood Bats (Greem's team) retrieved their rewards from intermediate acolyte Ronnie, Vanessa stood firmly.
The air here was thick with the scent of decay. Years passed, yet there were never any visitor. Not only was it rumoured to be haunted, it was also located in the slums of Lunia. Even the town's watch would not go into that area of the town carelessly, much less travelers who could afford to sleep in the inner city.
Ronnie's backroom was a mess of glass vials, yellowed bones, and stacks of notes scribbled in frantic handwriting. Although he was no alchemist, he acted as Elizabeth's front. Many from the association would buy concoctions from t-his inn.
Among the clutter sat a single stoppered flask, its contents a swirling, inky black that seemed to absorb the dim light.
Ronnie himself was a grotesque figure, his skin gray and stretched tight over his bones, his eyes sunken and glowing with a faint, unnatural light. He was one of Elizabeth's most trusted underlings, an intermediate rank acolyte of the Black Widow Association, and a zombie who had long since abandoned any semblance of humanity.
He had no pity, no remorse. He was a monster of a being, unable to walk under sunlight, unable to sleep, unable to feel. Unable to die too.
Vanessa pushed aside the heavy curtain that served as a door, the fabric sticky with grime. The moment she stepped inside, Ronnie looked up from his work, his lips curling into a sneer.
"Vanessa", he rasped, his voice like dry leaves scraping against stone. There was little respect in his voice. He did not have any for the Elders of the Association, so it was only natural that a knight would not get better treatment. She did not take it to the heart.
However, Ronnie was still someone in charge of a business: "I did not expect you here. Here to beg for a favor? Or perhaps buy a potion?"
Vanessa ignored the jab. Her gaze locked onto the flask.
"I want the Soul-Forge Draught"
Ronnie's sneer deepened, revealing yellowed, jagged teeth.
"Ah. The draught", he tapped the flask with a rotting finger, "You know what this is? What it does?"
Vanessa's jaw tightened. The scars on her arms ached, reminders of her failures.
"I know."
Ronnie chuckled, the sound like bones rattling.
"Do you? Really?", he leaned forward, his glowing eyes boring into hers, "This isn't some knight's tonic. This is the kind of thing that turns men into skeleton old men. You drink this, you're burning years off your life. Twenty, at least. Maybe more, if your body resists. And let me tell you, Captain, it will resist"
Vanessa didn't flinch.
"I'm sure."
"Half of those who bought it died. The remaining became stronger. You must have heard of the Demon Turtle Party. They became famous thanks to it. But they also lost half of their lifespan"
Ronnie studied her for a long moment, then shrugged, his bones creaking with the movement.
"I am willing to make that sacrifice"
He uncorked the flask with a pop, the sound unnaturally loud in the small space. The liquid inside pulsed faintly, like a living thing. He slid it across the table toward her, his fingers leaving smudges of grime on the glass.
Vanessa reached for it, her fingers brushing the cold surface. The moment she touched it, a chill ran up her arm, as if the flask itself were warning her.
Ronnie's voice was a dry whisper.
"Last chance. Once you drink, there's no going back. You'll be stronger, sure. Strong enough to crush a man's skull with your bare hands. But you'll pay for it. Every ounce of strength, every bit of speed, it's all borrowed time. And time...Not even Elizabeth would be able to give you back time..."
Vanessa lifted the flask to her lips. The scent of it was foul, like rotting meat and rusted iron. She hesitated for only a second before tilting it back and drinking deeply.
The first sensation was cold, so cold it burned. Then the fire came.
It started in her throat, a searing line of agony that spread through her veins like wildfire. She gasped, clutching her chest as her vision blurred. The flask slipped from her fingers, shattering on the stone floor, but she barely noticed. The world tilted, the walls of the alcove spinning as if she were falling.
Ronnie watched, his expression unreadable, as Vanessa's body began to convulse. Her vibrant red hair dulled, the color leaching away like dye in water. Strands turned ashen, then gray, the life draining from them as the potion consumed her from the inside out. Her skin, usually flushed with health, took on a sickly pallor, then a stony resilience, as if her very flesh were hardening into something unbreakable.
"Good", Ronnie murmured, his voice devoid of any emotion, "She will survive..."
Vanessa screamed. The sound was raw, guttural, the kind of noise that came from a place deeper than pain. Her body convulsed, her spine arching as her muscles swelled, veins bulging beneath her skin like dark rivers. She could feel the potion working, could feel the years being torn from her life as if they were nothing more than pages from a book.
Ronnie watched, his glowing eyes unblinking. He felt no emotion. He was incapable of them. But if she were to die, he knew Elizabeth would not be happy. And if his master was not happy, nothing good came out of it.
And then, as suddenly as it had begun, the pain ebbed.
Vanessa collapsed forward, her breath ragged, her body trembling. For a moment, she just laid there, her forehead pressed against the cold stone, waiting for the world to stop spinning. When she finally pushed herself up, the movement was effortless.
She flexed her fingers, watching as they crushed a loose cobblestone to dust without a thought. The power coursing through her was unlike anything she'd ever felt. She had lost twenty years of her lifespan, but at the same time, it was as if she had trained for just as long.
Ronnie said nothing. He reached out, his skeletal fingers brushing against her arm. His touch was cold, like a corpse's.
Vanessa touched her hair, the gray strands coarse and lifeless between her fingers. She looked at her hands, now veined with dark, ropy lines, like cracks in old stone. At the same time, her muscles were vibrating with power, her internal energy far more dense than it used to be.
She could see the difference already. Her arms were thicker, her shoulders broader, her body humming with a newfound vitality.
Ronnie commented: "Your body will continue to adapt over the next couple of days. I suggest you train before going on your next mission. You gained greater strength, but you must adapt your swordsmanship to your newly found strength"
Vanessa stood, her body moving with a predator's grace. She rolled her shoulders, testing the new weight of her muscles, the way her body seemed to hum with energy. She felt... invincible. And yet, beneath that, there was a hollow ache, a sense of something irreplaceable that was now lost to her.
Ronnie watched her, his glowing eyes unreadable.
Vanessa turned toward the bazaar's chaos, her steps heavier, her presence more imposing. As she returned to the veiled bazaar in the sewers, she could feel eyes on her.
The acolytes in the sewers parted for her instinctively, sensing the change in her. She could feel their eyes on her, could almost hear the whispers. What happened to her?Is that Vanessa?She looks... different.
She paused at the curtain, her fingers tightening around the fabric. For the first time, she hesitated. Twenty years. Twenty years of her life, gone in an instant. She thought of the future she might have had, the years she would never see.
As a woman, those twenty years had an even greater cost.
She would not be able to bear children.
With her gray hair and decaying skin, she would likely not marry.
Vanessa didn't look back. She strode forward, her new body moving with a confidence she hadn't felt in years.
When she regrouped with Greem, he smiled.
[Vanessa Tyrien - Lv. 7 Acolyte]