Julian attentively stared at the interface, particularly at the last part. The Reverie Realm had decided that the difficulty of the Second Heaven section was impossible for him. But even then, compared to how he had lived his life up until now, the difficulty didn't mean much.
Still, he was aware of the situation he found himself in, but he was a top candidate in every single exorcist organization for a reason. He knew the majority of the evil spirits, and he knew how the Reverie Realm worked in particular.
And the one thing that all people did when they entered the Reverie Realm was check their status screen. Focusing his thoughts on his full name, Julian soon saw it.
***
Name: Julian Everness
Imprint: None [You must awaken]
Rank: Dormant
Soul Artifacts: None
Attributes: [Cursed], [Miasma Affinity]
???: [You must awaken]
***
'What...? I have two attributes?'
He was bewildered, because the only way to get them was to go through the exorcist awakening, which he hadn't yet.
But seeing the names made him realize that he might not be so lucky after all. Still, with his hopes somewhat high, he went ahead and inspected his attributes.
[Cursed] – The Reverie rejects your presence. Miasma reacts violently to your soul.
[Miasma Affinity] – Exposure to Miasma strengthens you instead of weakening you.
'This is... It's actually good?'
One made it worse, while the other made it better. Combining them, he was left with perfectly synergized attributes.
No wonder he felt so light. Even the small knife cut he had from yesterday had healed fully. While he couldn't use his Spiritual Essence because he was still unawakened, his body healed much faster, increasing his chances of survival.
Julian sighed.
"Well, I'm still trapped."
But he wasn't planning on being a damsel in distress. Walking alongside the pillars, Julian made his way out of the ruined church, away from the trumpets. He struggled to get past the feathers at first since it felt like they were zapping his strength away.
'Maybe they really are?'
Julian stopped, picking up a single feather and crushing it in his palm. A cold sensation spread across his arm, seeping into his skin before being expelled in the form of black mist.
It was Miasma, as he thought. If he didn't have those two attributes, he probably would've turned into a corpse shortly after he arrived. Thinking his luck had really turned for the better, he was soon met with a reality check.
A loud whistle cut through the air, approaching him rapidly. His senses went on full alarm, but before he could even turn fully, something slammed into his shoulder, the force pushing him backward. Pain exploded through his chest as an arrow drove straight through his shoulder.
"Ghh—!"
He felt his arm growing numb, but knowing he didn't have much time before another arrow came, he snapped the shaft in half, leaving the arrowhead buried in his shoulder. It didn't hurt any less, but he could at least move freely again.
Bearing through the immeasurable pain, he staggered back inside the church and hid behind the only standing wall.
'Shit! Just what is my luck? I haven't even stepped one foot out of this church, and someone's already trying to kill me!'
He glanced at the gash on his shoulder, and it seemed like it had stopped bleeding. The wound was still there, but it was visibly healing.
Still, the whistling didn't stop, and the number of arrows hitting the wall increased by the minute. He knew that there wasn't only one person shooting at him, and he also knew he needed to somehow run away.
Glancing around, Julian's gaze darkened.
'There's nowhere to run. I'd be in the open, and whoever's shooting at me would definitely get me.'
An idea popped into his mind, so he turned to the heap of feathers on the ground, as well as the many corpses lying nude in them.
"..."
'This might work.'
***
Minutes passed in the blink of an eye, and the onslaught of arrows finally stopped. Five sets of heavy footsteps resounded outside the church, approaching swiftly but carefully.
Once the footsteps arrived, they scattered, covering all exits around the church and making sure the person they just hit would not run away.
Silence hung in the air for a few brief moments until a shrill, manly voice belonging to one of the pursuers rang out:
"Heey~ You know you can't hide in there forever, right? If you don't come out in the next five seconds, we're going to come get you ourselves. Do you understand~?"
No response came.
"Hmm... If you want to play hard to get, then we'll indulge you. Merill, find him."
"..."
"Yes, boss."
A feminine figure ran inside the church, holding a bow firmly. The figure's jaw was broken, and her left eye was out of its socket. Still, she searched the church for any sign of the person they had just hit.
She inspected the pedestal and each of the corpses, but they were all cold, lifeless. It was strange because she was sure the one they hit wouldn't have been able to run far.
Unless...
She stepped outside, approaching the boss. Her expression remained firm despite her ghastly appearance as she said:
"Boss, I think the prey is hiding."
Boss tilted his head slightly.
"In the feathers? They contain enough Miasma to wring our lifeforce dry in seconds. I'm afraid our prey might already be dead, Merill."
The other figures approached from the sides, and when they were all gathered, the boss took a deep breath, and while gesturing toward the church, he gave one more command.
"Dead our prey may be, we must confirm the kill. Don't stop until you've confirmed it. Understand?"
Each of the four figures nodded and ran inside the church, turning it upside down in search of their prey.
"..."
"..."
"Found him!"
The figures stepped out, holding a lifeless blond-haired, lanky man with injuries riddling most of his body. Cuts, bruises, and most importantly, a fresh wound in his shoulder.
The boss stared at the man for a few short moments, then approached, sticking his hand inside the wound in the shoulder.
He pulled out the arrowhead, inspected it for a moment, then pocketed it before nodding to his group.
"Kill confirmed. Drop him with the rest of the trash. Let's head back to the camp."
With those words, the five figures dropped the body and finally left the church.
***
The footsteps faded, and amidst the deathly silence, a hand tore through the heap of feathers.