The Orb of Seven Wishes was a high-end quest reward item that offered its user to grant one of seven predetermined wishes in exchange for the orb’s destruction.

One of those wishes was a day of flight. Another possible wish was a day of underwater breathing. One wish granted an additional ten years of possible lifespan, and another granted death.

Theora had always kept an Orb of Seven Wishes with her, in hopes of using its death wish after killing Dema so she could finally rest. But then, she’d used it to save someone’s life instead.

And now, the System was offering her a very lucrative deal.

It was saying, in a roundabout way, something like, “Hey there, Theora. I’ve noticed you are lacking one of your integral items to complete your Main Quest. So here it is, I grant it to you in an offer of goodwill. Because right now is the best chance to finish off the Ancient Evil — you won’t even have to use [Obliterate] on your precious friend! All you need to do is speak the words on that scroll you carry around. It will never be easier! In the painful state she’s in, maybe she’ll even beg you for a mercy kill and you can wrap this up in consent like you always wanted.”

And to underline that, for the first time in one hundred years, it shoved the Main Quest details back into Theora’s mind.

[Current Main Quest: Kill the Ancient Evil.]

[Current Main Quest: Kill the Ancient Evil.]

[Current Main Quest: Kill the Ancient Evil.]

The System was starting a war. And this right there was the warning shot. Maybe the System hadn’t planned for the Devil of Truth to specifically render Dema so close to death, but it definitely had been prepared for this type of situation, and that likely meant there was more to come. This entire approach very much seemed like a hidden threat. A way to say, “Do it the easy way, or I will bring out the hammer.”

What that hammer might look like, Theora had no idea. So, she needed to be prepared for anything.

She found Dema still leaning against the outer wall of the large shed, no further harm done to her, from what Theora could tell.

On one hand, she wanted to let out a sigh of relief, but on the other, this was not the time to relax. The System had never actually acted this hostile before. Maybe the System didn’t even realise how much of its hostility came through in these actions, because on the surface, it had simply given out a high tier quest reward and then reminded Theora of her Main Quest; both things it had done many times before, but never specifically like this.

It was hard for her to articulate these thoughts even in her own mind, but she simply knew and understood what was happening.

Dema was, right now, probably in her most vulnerable state ever. Theora’s scroll was useless on its own, because deactivating [Immortality] would only kill Dema if she was already in a state where she could die — like, right now. Otherwise, her [Blood] magic’s passive and active regeneration Skills turned her nigh-immortal on their own anyway.

And that wasn’t even accounting for the fact that Dema had some of the strongest and most versatile offensive capabilities of all creatures on the planet. Theora had seen glimpses of what she was able to do with how she’d split a cliff in half for fun or destroyed the village while stuck in a [Realm].

And, Dema was a skilled manipulative schemer, though that part was mostly something Theora knew about her on a conceptual level, rather than having it seen first-hand. Dema hadn’t actually really ever shown any true deceptive abilities, all she did was cause mischief and prank or annoy people.

Of course, a masterful schemer would benefit from making people dismiss their acts as shenanigans and from being severely underestimated. While Theora couldn’t discount that possibility, she also couldn’t ignore the odds that Dema might simply love being seen as a schemer, despite her inability to remember as many as three of Theora’s weaknesses without noting them down.

It didn’t matter either way now, though, because Dema was in no condition to scheme while delirious of blood loss and with the current lack of a heart.

… Unless that was what she wanted Theora to think.

Theora took a deep breath as she noticed her thoughts running in unproductive circles. When had she last been this anxious? Yes, she’d been worried the day she had first met Dema, or the day she’d first given her flowers as an apology after hurting her feelings. But those did not compare to the thought of sheer terror that something out there was actively plotting to slay Dema when she was this exposed.

Yes, Theora was Dema’s murderer, and that was terrible and unacceptable. But, she’d definitely not accept anyone else to kill her, either. After all, the world in which Dema actually liked Theora, the world in which they could both be happy — it was reality to her. One of two realities, granted, but that didn’t take away from how true it was. 

“You are always safe with me.”

That’s what Theora had said, and she’d meant it.

Her gaze went back to Dema, who was still panting deeply, and the first thing she did was feed her some of the berries she’d found around town. Theora had tasted them all for poison first, although she was rather sure that she could identify at least some of them, like wild strawberries and raspberries.

Dema did in fact actually eat, and that caused Theora to calm down slightly. Her eyes were closed, and she chewed very slowly, and the gulps seemed a bit pained, but at least she managed to get it down. Then, Theora carried her inside, and placed her near the centre of the room down on the wooden planks. Taking a while to empty her pockets, she fished out some blankets that she’d found in a good condition due to being carefully stored away, but additionally, she’d still gathered a few bunches of grass blades to lay down in the sun to dry, to have it eventually be used as a sort of mattress.

“You’re going to be fine, Dema,” Theora intoned, and it was an assurance directed at herself just as much. She couldn’t really foresee what would happen, what the System’s plans might be, so instead, she’d stay aware and wait, while doing her best to help, even if her help was very limited and not that useful.

And thus, two days went by. Still, there was no sign of any of the System’s further meddling. But something else had been happening instead, something Theora hadn’t foreseen, but seemed rather obvious in hindsight.

Dema was a beacon. She was an incredibly strong creature with a wide-reaching aura, and right now, that aura screamed pain. It wasn’t simply the System that had an interest in coming here. Monsters existed in the world too. Monsters who saw a tasty meal in something that couldn’t defend itself. And right now, they were attracted to this place like moths to the light.

Theora stepped down the hill to get more water, and passed by two of the creatures she’d had to dispatch that morning.

Tar black skin and large as elephants, mouths full of unnaturally large teeth. Horns issuing out from the back of its skull signified their origin from hell. 

They weren’t as strong as the beings at the Zenith of the End — if they had been, they’d probably known to avoid Theora. She didn’t have much of an aura, she seemed like a simple human on the outside, and it required a certain level of attention to see what was underneath. A certain level of competency that country bumpkin monsters didn’t possess, but they could still destroy the house and chew off Dema’s remaining limbs, or even eat her whole and carry her around while digesting her in acid until her regeneration kicked back in.

As the days went by, stronger monsters arrived, and the surroundings of the hill turned into a graveyard. Theora managed to scare off about two thirds of them in various ways, but a few were rather persistent and there was no helping it.

Eventually, while Dema still slept most of the time, she had more clarity in her few waking minutes, and Theora liked to imagine that her care was paying off in some way, because Dema was able to talk in full sentences again.

One night, Theora was changing her bandages, as Dema clung onto her cloak and looked around the storage room with her tired gaze. She was sitting on a thickly padded bed now, her legs wrapped in about four blankets, with the top of her body exposed so Theora could access the wounds. Two of the windows were open, letting in fresh air. Theora had torn up a dress to use as bandages, changing them every few hours, then walking down to the river to wash the old dress pieces immediately.

Outside was an everburning campfire that Theora kept going at all times, with a small bronze kettle above it to brew tea or provide warm water to clean. Dema had developed a fever and shivers, so Theora regularly wiped off her skin.

Three cups of tea were currently standing next to the makeshift bed, all of which contained different varieties of herbal tea so Dema could choose between whichever she felt like drinking, and as soon as one of them went cold, Theora would go and make a new one.

“Gotta love the attention,” Dema mumbled, “But ain’t it a bit much! Should I be feeling bad, little rabbit?”

“It’s not too much,” Theora replied. “This is the bare minimum.”

This was all Theora’s fault, after all. She could at least do her best.

“Why, you really wanna make me throw myself right into the next disaster, huh!”

Theora’s hands stopped for a moment. “What? No. Never do this again. I won’t ask something like this of you again. I don’t want you to.” She considered herself for a moment, and then formulated a ‘rule’ of her own. “No more hurting for Dema.”

“Damn! Then you gotta stop rewarding me! Otherwise, I’ll never learn!”

Theora pursed her lips. “I am not rewarding you at all. I am just making sure you are alright.”

Dema slumped her head into the hay-filled cushion as Theora had finished most of the bandaging. “Fine! If I ain’t allowed to do it again,” she began with a raspy voice, but stumbled into a coughing fit right away. After calming down, she continued, “Gah. Then you gotta let me take care of you when sick one day, too!” She grinned weakly, her chest heaving in deep breaths. After a moment, she added, a little sheepishly, “Also, if this is the last time I can get sick, I really gotta cherish it. So I ain’t gonna hold back!”

“You were holding back?” Theora gently shook her head. “That is not necessary. Communicate your needs and wants clearly.”

For some reason, Dema was slightly taken aback at this, and started hiding half of her face under her arm, pulling the blanket back up. “Gotta be careful with saying stuff like that, you know,” she mumbled in a half-whine. “I can become very greedy.”

Theora didn’t understand what Dema was talking about, so she just finished folding the bloodied bandages, getting ready to wash them. Then, she placed her hand on Dema’s forehead to check if the fever had gone down. However, Dema shook her head.

“Nu-uh,” she said, gently taking the hand off her head. “No!”

Theora stared, feeling the soft touch of Dema’s hand against her fingers. “What is it?”

“That ain’t right at all! If you use a hand to measure temperature, it’s gonna be off!”

“What are you talking about? What else am I supposed to use?”

“Something that has constant temperature,” Dema said. “Like lips.” She pointed at her forehead. “Use lips!”

Theora swallowed. She started blushing.

And, she started regretting. What kinds of wants and needs did that girl have!