Mountains of corpses and rotting filth were all Minas remembered of home.
Born in the infamous Kaporiga slums—a dumping ground abandoned by the world—Minas barely kept herself and her twelve younger siblings alive.
Food was scarce; they caught rats to eat. Water was nonexistent; they dug sewage from drains, filtered the foul liquid, and drank. Worst were the summer plagues that struck like clockwork—once infected, there was no cure...
Minas couldn’t afford treatment. She’d knelt before Holy Knights of the Church more than once, begging them to save her sister. They did save her—but left irreversible damage.
Her siblings were blind, crippled, broken. Only Minas remained unscathed, limbs intact. She never understood why...
As if they’d taken the calamity meant for her. Yet nothing pained Minas more than seeing her family suffer. Death would be kinder.
*"If you can’t feed them, don’t take them in! You can’t even feed yourself—why burden yourself with twelve extra mouths? Look how skin and bones you’ve become! With your ‘kind heart,’ you’d have died ten thousand times over in Kaporiga. Seriously, lucky fool!"*
*"They were abandoned... I couldn’t just leave them..."*
*"No home doesn’t mean you give them yours! What twisted logic is that?!"*
*"Exactly because they have no home... they can’t lose family too..."*
*"You stubborn idiot. You’ll be the death of me."*
Her friend’s words were sharp, laced with acid—but not without care.
They always fought over Minas’s "burdens," yet in the end, her friend would always cave. Storming off, she’d toss Minas some coins she insisted were "clean," then vanish into the mana-powered carriage waiting for her.
Dragging twelve dependents *was* impossible.
Her friend was right.
But Minas found joy in the struggle. One look at her siblings’ innocent eyes, and she couldn’t abandon them—especially not broken as they were. Leaving them would be sentencing them to death. Too cruel.
Her conscience wouldn’t allow such horror.
When her friend later suggested they both "serve" her wealthy, paunchy patron together, Minas gently refused.
She’d considered it. But when it happened to *her*, she understood: being kept was a living hell.
She watched her friend—once radiant—ride away in that gilded carriage. Each time she returned, her eyes lost more light.
Her friend pressed some of the money into Minas’s hands. *"It’s clean. Buy food for them."* Then she disappeared.
The world poured all its malice onto Minas, demanding payment in the suffering of those around her.
Minas’s heart ached. But she was powerless.
She watched her friend leave again and again. Each return revealed a body more shattered, thinner than her own. Finally, Minas broke.
*"Next time... let me go instead. Let me serve that master for you..."*
*"Absolutely not!"*
Here, her friend was fiercer than Minas. *"You’re just a pure-hearted girl! What are you rushing into? What about your siblings?!"*
*"I came of age yesterday. You can’t keep doing this... you’ll die..."*
*"Who said I can’t?! Say that again, Minas Vale!!"*
Her friend screamed—raw, unhinged. The angriest Minas had ever seen her.
But that memory froze there. Minas never saw her friend again.
Later that same month, the Second Empire struck. Ten fire mages—each ranked Fourth Tier or higher—surrounded the Kaporiga slums. A storm of flames raged, devouring innocent, "lesser" lives.
Burning figures fled everywhere—bursting from houses, tents, even sewers...
Minas dragged her siblings through the chaos. Flames licked her back, searing her skin, leaving ugly, incurable scars.
She lost her worth as a woman. Just as her friend had warned:
*"A woman’s value lies in her youth and maidenhead. Once broken, your worth plummets. Sure, you can buy eternal youth—but can you guarantee your paunchy patron will always desire you?"*
*"Humans crave novelty. Desire twists us... ‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’? Hah! Pure love shatters before a cuckold."*
Minas couldn’t argue. She’d begun to agree.
All she knew was the bone-deep pain of nightly wound-dressing. The injustice heaped on the lowborn.
She mourned her friend. Prayed for what came after.
......
*"You’re dressed so finely... you must be a wealthy ‘master’... I won the match. I proved I can protect you, Master..."*
Minas held Lenna close, her voice barely a whisper:
*"I’m clean, Master..."*
Fragile yet unyielding—Minas had carried twelve children on her broken body. Now, she offered what little dignity remained, like a courtesan selling herself to bury her father.
*"You want me to take you? Why?"*
Lenna’s gaze pinned her.
She wasn’t naive enough to rescue every wounded bird she saw. She and Angela were fundamentally different from Minas.
*"I need a reason."*
*"You came alone, Master... no guards in sight..."* Minas’s voice was thin, each cough shaking her frail frame. Her pale cheeks burned with feverish color.
Lenna frowned, handing her a lavender-scented handkerchief. *"I prefer no guards. I keep a low profile."*
*"Thank you."* Minas clutched the handkerchief’s edge, eyes downcast—pitiful. *"Your strength is undeniable, Master. But true worth shines brightest when hidden. That’s when you need someone... to handle the dirty work."*
As an undocumented slum-dweller, Minas couldn’t stay in the First Empire. She had to cling to nobility—before her siblings suffered more.
This ashen-haired beauty before her seemed a worthy "paunchy master" to surrender her first time to. Imperial tabloids called Lenna a lover of women—easing Minas’s fear of men.
*"Master, look..."*
She revealed the weapon at her wrist.
*"You asked how I killed that man, didn’t you?"*
Lenna’s expression didn’t flicker. *"What is this?"*
*"A wrist-mounted blade. Kaporiga’s favorite hidden weapon..."* Minas conjured a slender, three-sided dagger from pure mana. She placed it in Lenna’s palm. *"I used it on Mr. Tyren. When I adjusted my clothes."*
Lenna examined it. *"Ingenious design... What else can you do?"*
*"Guns."*
The word slipped out too boldly. Minas softened her tone, wilting like a bruised willow. *"I’m familiar with mana-powered firearms. In the slums... my friend smuggled me schematics. Thanks to her, I can build and wield many kinds..."*
*Gun-fu?*
The term flashed in Lenna’s mind.
*"Yes, Master."* Minas smiled faintly, fever-bright. *"As you thought. Minas can eliminate anyone who threatens you... silently."*
......
Life slipped like sand through her fingers. Precious things were lost with it.
Only Minas heard the soft *click* of her trigger—a beautiful sound. She couldn’t hold the sand, but she could guide its flow along her palm’s lines.
Killing was as simple as a blink. To protect her family, she’d slay anything—even gods. She’d cock the safety and pull the trigger without hesitation.
