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And do you think that mattered to me in my current state? No, I took out another frail stick from my inventory, and then,
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My second frail stick broke, followed by the third, fourth, fifth, sixth, seventh, eighth, and ninth. I was now all out... Overall, I had dealt less than a thousand points of damage, which was less than one percent of either of their health pools.
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"If you dare lose the qualifications of wrath, I will force the deadly sins of sloth, gluttony, and lust upon you even though you are incompatible with any one of them," Xanda sounded wrathful. "And make no mistake, you will lose it if you continue fighting futilely with sticks and stones against one of my creations even if it's the weakest one, and the monster you designated as your right hand. Then why don't you stop screwing around and either find a real weapon or do as I say and search for the mausoleum of heroes. It's somewhere around here. Go. Now. Or I swear to chaos, I will—"
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Now that the blessing of pride was inactive, I could simply turn around and run away. However, that was unlike me. What was characteristic of me, however, was never running away from anything, always facing whatever came my way head-on. That philosophy had never failed me before; it wasn't going to start now. That said, it wasn't the only thing keeping me rooted. Wrath had a hand in it too. I wanted to kill them. So badly… So badly… So badly…
"Alright," and just like that, Xanda was back to her usual self.
That was when something unexpected happened: the ground suddenly began to shine teal with a complex pattern, and before I knew it, I found myself engulfed in complete and utter whiteness. Moreover, I felt like my normal self again, and even though I didn't feel the emotion of wrath, I didn't fail the wrath quest. Not yet, anyhow.
Xanda burst out laughing, or she should have, but I didn't hear anything of the sort, nor did I hear her voice. She was silent. It felt as if I was finally alone with my thoughts. However, that was short-lived as another voice, that of a man, sounded inside of my head. "You have shown the most important trait of all—courage. And that's why I invited you to my trial, daughter of daughters. My name is Daymen, and as you may know from history books, I am the first hero of our people, but enough about me. Tell me, why are you seeking my inheritance? What great evil has befallen us? Is it the primordial demons again with their evil schemes? Or is it something else entirely?"
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"It's for self-defense against some lunatic that wants to torture, rape, and kill me," truth was the best policy after all. "Also, to kill the strongest creature—Tiamat."
"Tiamat!" Daymen has completely ignored the first reason I gave him.
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"My inheritance is yours; I will not make you undergo a trial, which is what I would like to say, but that wouldn't be fair to all those who came before you and failed."
"What's the trial then?" I asked, as I was open to doing one because it was interesting.
"You have shown that you possess courage, but that is not the only trait a hero should possess. Do you know the other traits?"
"A hero is someone who has given his or her life to something bigger than oneself," I said, quoting Joseph Campbell's The Power of Myth, published in nineteen-eight-eight.
"It was the first time someone gave me such an answer, I approve."
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"That's it?" that was disappointing to say the least.
"I am sending you back now," there was a clear embarrassment in his voice.
"Wait," I stopped him. "Give me a minute."
But my plea was ignored. "Move!"
Reacting to Xanda's voice, I jumped back, barely dodging the attacks of Weapon and the ultimate slime; I was under the effect of the blessing of wrath again.
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"You were in the mausoleum of heroes just now, weren't you? Did you manage to receive an inheritance?" Xanda asked. "And if so, please tell me that it's not Daymen's."
"Why?" because I did receive his inheritance.
"Daymen was a dud… just die…"
"The ones that are going to be dying are they!" I dashed in and stomped down on the ultimate slime.