First Instance Dungeon (4): Seeds of Corruption

"Today was the best day in nearly a month. Until I laid eyes on that filthy, lowly mongrel. Right in front of me—you. You."

"…."

"It would be right to punish you just for daring to appear in my sight, but what I said about it being the best day until moments ago wasn't a lie. In my mercy, I'll let you make up for it by vanishing right now."

Filthy mongrel. Lowly bitch. Cursed spawn.

Those were sounds the gray-haired half-elf girl, her skinny limbs trembling as she bolted toward the shadows with her head bowed, had heard more familiarly than meals since childhood. No—meals were actually harder to come by than she'd expected, so it was more accurate to say they'd been as familiar as breathing.

It hurts….

Beatings and curses were routine. The villagers—who city folk would call country bumpkins—despised her for being a half-elf, a mix of elf and human. Relations between elves and humans hadn't always been bad, but as humans expanded their territories, border disputes erupted, souring things rapidly. Negotiations require some give-and-take, but with both sides intransigent, it devolved into slaps turning into punches, over and over.

Thus, elves generally loathed humans, calling them beasts whose greed knew no bounds. With that mindset widespread, consorting with a human and bearing their child? Sure, some countries let elves and humans coexist peacefully, but that meant nothing here.

When her parents were alive, they shielded her from it all, living quietly in a remote spot where few people passed. Life wasn't abundant, but it held simple joys.

Until the 'incident' killed them.

I'm hungry….

After coming down to the village alone to survive, her world flipped upside down. Desperate for any scrap of food, she'd wandered, only to suffer wounds deeper than the physical aches from words denying her very existence.

No matter how many curses and insults she endured… her heart remained tender.

But today is that day.

Once a week, the priest and nuns visited. On this day alone, violence and vitriol gave way to warm hugs and gentle comfort. Alley cats like her got soft bread and soup that warmed the soul, not just the body.

Without those periodic services, she might have ended her life long ago—willingly or not.

She slipped into the village via an unused path, reaching the back of the sole chapel. It was a pathetically small, shabby building unworthy of the name, but to a girl who'd never left her birthplace, it loomed grand and majestic.

"Oh my… again…."

"N-Nun…."

The nun who spotted her embraced the girl, who arrived each week with fresh wounds. She never minded the dirt or smell. Despite being an elf herself, she showed no discrimination toward the half-elf girl. No hatred.

The girl had once asked about it. The nun replied:

The nun clasped her hands and prayed upon seeing the girl's wounds. A bright green light emanated from her, enveloping the girl. Bruises and scrapes healed rapidly.

"I'm sorry I can't heal you perfectly—my power is still weak."

The girl shook her head vigorously. This alone moved her deeply—tears already welled up.

Aware of the girl's plight, the nun carved out special time for her. After the brief prayer ended, the fleeting happiness soured as she realized they'd soon part.

To taste this warmth again, she'd endure another week of hell. Especially today, after what happened just before meeting the nun—the drop hit harder, showing even on her usually stoic face.

"Is there something you want to say?"

…Shake, shake.

She hesitated, then shook her head. The nun was kind, but an outsider. Visiting once a week from elsewhere, her kindness turned to venom in her absence—more poisonous for it.

So the girl built walls even in her warm embrace. The nun knew it.

Biting her lip, she pulled a necklace with a tiny goddess figurine from her bosom and placed it in the girl's hand.

"I can't promise to always stay by your side. But you can pray to the goddess even without me. When times are tough, look at this necklace, think of me, and pray. Someday… you'll grow closer to the goddess."

The girl stared at the necklace in her palm. The goddess seemed to smile—full of the same merciful warmth as the nun….

—Ultimately solving nothing.

—A smile that seems painted on….

—A coward too scared to show its true face. Hypocrite. A petty group giving scraps compared to what they take.

Her eyes widened. The goddess figurine had turned pitch black. The merciful smile twisted into a clown's mask with unnaturally torn corners. Thick, dark-red tears oozed from eyes that once seemed loving.

N-Nun!

She recoiled. The nun would never give her something like this…!

But words stuck in her throat.

Stop, stop! Who—who are you?

She shook her head against the mysterious voice. Fear gripped her, but she endured—thanks to the nun.

She looked up.

"Nun…?"

"You could become a fine nun someday."

The nun smiled. Unlike her usual warmth, her eyes didn't crinkle. The girl flinched.

I thought I'd die of anxiety when that black shit touched Kaya, but it was just a 1-damage poke.

What the hell was that? Scaring the shit out of me for nothing.

Kaya seemed fine, standing there. Before prepping my next attack, I turned to her.

"Kaya. You okay…?"

"Ah… aaaah…."

What the fuck!?

That insignificant black blob was a massive mentality attack!

Mentality dropping 25 in one hit? And it's not even the boss! Fuck, is this a game?!

Kaya spaced out from the mental hit, like last time. Tough exterior, fragile inside.

In any zone, any monster—mental attackers are extra dangerous.

Nothing I could do right now. We were mid-battle.

These bastards had a gimmick: one monster, three types. Defense dropped, but attack and speed rose. Tricky patterns too. All I could lean on was the lowered defense.

Aim to smash its pot and force a type switch.

Please crit, crit, crit, crit—!

Lifelong atheist here too, but I prayed harder than ever.

----------!

"Fuck yeah!"

Combined with Kaya's crit, two in a row. Lucky.

The monster clutched its head-thing, screeching incoherently. Black chunks seemed to slough off.

Sad about the stun wasting a ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠turn and losing the mark, ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠but its HP was down to ~20%.

While it writhed, I gripped Kaya's shoulder.

"Kaya."

"…."

‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠

"Kaya!"

"Ah. Captain."

"Snap out of it! Battle's not over!"

"Y-yes."

Hiss. The mental aftermath lingered hard. Just -25 numerically, but only she knew the torment—and I was powerless.

Drained mentality only recovered via rest or special skills.

I wanted her to attack, but….

"I cannot forgive—I cannot forgive—I cannot forgiveaaaaaa—!"

"Wha—what the fuck…?"

The third type out-spec'd my expectations.

"You shall pay the proper penance----------!!!"

Black something—fiercer than before—sharpened into spears, hurtling at us.

The ominously named AoE was our first here….

Before I could react—

—the black spear split into dozens, spearing my body and ‍‍‌‌⁠​​⁠‌​​‍​​‍​‌​⁠‍‌‍⁠⁠‌⁠‌‍‌‍‌‌‌‍⁠​‌​‌​‌‍‌‌‌⁠‍​​‌‍⁠‌‌⁠⁠Kaya's. I could only watch as evasion failed.

And….

Blood gushed from me in clots; Kaya collapsed to one knee, blood pooling.

"Kaya…."

"…."

"Kaya…!"

I still had 4 HP left….

She had 1…!

Then why does it hurt this much? Why does it feel like death's knocking…!

If you're gonna block dodges, at least numb the pain! Why! Whyyyyy!!

"Pay the penance—!"

"Shut the fuck up!"

I wanted to unload my rage, frustration, pain—mark be damned—but my body wouldn't move. Not my turn.

"Kaya. Kaya!!"

Silently, she rose. Blood pooled wider at her feet. She gripped her bloodied mace.

Step by step, she approached the monster, trailing a bloody path.

"To defile my faith… my memories like that. I cannot forgive it."

She raised the mace—her first strike without my order.

Crack-runch—

"The goddess offers only warm mercy and cool tolerance."