When the Innocent Becomes the Executioner (Part I)
Several hours had already passed since the beginning of that journey of blood and survival. The group hadn't stopped hunting. The women, now more accustomed to the frantic rhythm of battle, advanced one after another, coordinated and confident. All of them were armed with sacred scepters, their bodies protected by robes that radiated a faint divine glow. Each had learned at least two indispensable arts: Holy Healing and Sacred Shield. Danilo, unlike the rest, did not wield a scepter, but instead a sacred robe and his old rusty sword — yet he too had mastered those basic abilities.
The drop sequence had followed the same logic from the very start: every three monsters defeated, a new item or skill appeared. Without realizing it, the group had reached an impressive number. They had already slain two hundred and ninety-seven monsters.
The area around them — a makeshift battlefield — had become a scene of terror and triumph. The ten-square-meter shop space was filled with piled-up corpses, crystals gleaming amidst the blood, and skill books scattered like treasures.
The drop count was starting to look frightening. Over the hours, they had acquired precious abilities, though all of them belonged to the sacred domain:
Holy Healing (Class D) – 13 books (6 kept)
Sacred Barrier (Class D) – 15 (6 kept)
Group Healing (Class C) – 12 (1 kept)
Sacred Blessing: Speed (Class D) – 9 (1 kept)
Sacred Blessing: Strength (Class D) – 4 (1 kept)
Purification (Class C) – 4 (1 kept)
Aura of Lightness (Class D) – 8 (1 kept)
Sword of Light (Class A) – 1 (1 kept)
Aura of Weakness (Class C) – 5 (1 kept)
Sacred Scepter (Common) – 10 (5 kept)
Sacred Fire (Class C) – 2 (1 kept)
Sacred Robe (Common) – 16 (6 kept)
In total, there were 68 items carefully separated, all ready to be traded. The group spent quite some time debating prices and values, eventually reaching a final agreement.
Each Class D skill book would be sold for 5,000 crystals. The Class C ones would reach 7,000 crystals. As for the simplest items, they would go for 2,000 crystals each — but those would be held and sold only the following day.
As the day went on, the atmosphere began to shift. Several groups started to form — as if the courage, once restrained by fear of the unknown, was now spreading. The realization was clear: if they didn't move forward, if they didn't take risks, they would remain trapped there forever.
Most survivors moved in groups of five, which seemed to be the ideal balance between strength and safety. Others preferred risking it in trios, while some banded together in larger numbers, relying on quantity for protection. Yet, there were also those who advanced in pairs, with nearly arrogant confidence. And, surprisingly, a few roamed alone, like solitary predators.
Those last ones drew attention. Anyone daring to walk alone in that place had to possess absurd talent, innate abilities far beyond the ordinary, or blind confidence in themselves. Perhaps all of the above.
Naturally, upon noticing the equipment of Danilo's group, many tried to approach, asking to join them. But every attempt was rejected without hesitation. Their confidence had already solidified — they didn't need more mouths to divide the spoils of the hunt.
It was then that the final group of the day appeared, drawing everyone's attention.
Seven men, their bodies marked by wounds, yet carrying an air of honor and confidence in their stance. Unlike the others, they bore themselves with authority. Their clothes were plain — obviously the ones they had brought with them into the Divine Domain — but their greedy eyes fixed on the sacred robes embroidered with symbols of prestige worn by Danilo's group of six.
Among them, only Danilo stood out. While the others held ornate scepters, he seemed detached, observing everything with calm indifference. The contrast was striking.
The girls beside him immediately noticed the way the men were staring at them. Especially the one who stepped forward — clearly the leader.
A large man, broad-shouldered, thick-bearded, already in his forties. His eyes roamed over the young women's bodies with undisguised lust, a filthy gaze that made no effort to hide his intentions.
Danilo, in contrast, remained calm. He did not return the stare, nor did he show discomfort. He simply held onto his cold confidence, as though the other man were too insignificant to warrant any reaction.
But behind that vulgar demeanor, the man was no ordinary figure. He possessed a talent that increased his defense by 200% — an A-Class Talent, extremely rare. Among all those present, few could boast of something so high.
In the world they had fallen into, the Divine Domain was the future. Anyone wishing to reach the top needed two things: talent and opportunity. And this man already held one of the greatest advantages possible.
Over time, he had formed a solid group of followers. The confidence and respect he inspired came not only from his talent but also from his accomplishments. Under his leadership, they had already slain more than 150 level 1 creatures and even hunted down four level 2 monsters.
From those battles, they had secured two rare spoils: two common swords — simple, but still far superior to what most carried — and one skill book: Fireball.
That was the weight his group carried. And with the leader's lustful gaze fixed on the young women, Danilo already knew: blood would be spilled.
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