Killed by the Hero. Reincarnated for Revenge... with a Lust System

The inside of the sanctuary offered an almost indecent contrast.

The ancient stone radiated a quiet warmth, as if the walls themselves had retained a bit of life. The hanging torches licked the vaults with golden light. The bodies still standing were swaying, all on the edge of collapse.

I straightened up, still facing Lady Althéa. She still leaned lightly on my arm, her breathing slow but deep. Behind me, the squad struggled to grasp that they were still alive.

— Kal, secure the entrance. Roud and Alik, set up alert wires. Sergen, handle the wounded. And give the two guards water. Irla, check if they're still breathing.

Orders snapped without waiting for replies. And yet, everyone obeyed.

I took the time to observe Althéa more closely.

She had sat on the stone ledge, legs crossed, shirt still clinging to her skin, corset partially open. But she wasn't trembling. Her gaze was as clear as a drawn sword. Noble to her very bones.

— Are you hurt? I asked.

— Tired. And… still a bit shaken. But no, no wounds.

She crossed her arms under her chest, accentuating the already visible curves. She knew exactly what she was doing. Her gaze brushed mine.

— And you? What's the name of the one who got me out of there?

— Sora.

— That name cuts.

I shrugged, leaning against a broken pillar.

— I'm not here to look pretty.

She gave a faint smile.

— Pity.

I didn't answer. I stared at her. Long. Until she slightly turned her eyes away. A drop of sweat still traced a line between her breasts.

I cleared my throat and turned my head. The squad was finishing setting up a makeshift resting circle. Althéa's two guards, badly battered, were breathing weakly, but still there. Irla was treating them as best she could, her hands trembling but focused.

I took a sip of water. Then turned to them.

— We rest. One hour. No more. Eat. Drink. Close your eyes if you can. But stay geared up. This sanctuary is a stroke of luck. And like all luck in this world, it has an end.

I stepped toward the door. Kal was already on watch, silent.

— You think they'll come back? he whispered.

— No. I know they will.

I glanced back.

Althéa was lying down, a fur over her. Legs slightly folded. Staring at the ceiling. Her figure was calm. Her chest rose gently. And yet, I knew she was listening to everything.

I felt it in her aura.

This woman had fire. And I… had just lit it.

The sanctuary behind us. The cold ahead.

I led the way. The air was drier, harsher. Less mist, but more scent. A pungent, thick stench. The kind flesh gives off when it gathers. The stench of a horde.

— Dense formation, I called. Blades in the center. Archers behind. Kal, you take the rear with Althéa.

She muttered a protest, but I ignored her.

— Can you walk? I asked, turning to her.

— I've faced worse.

— So have I. That's exactly why I'm not taking the risk.

I offered my hand without waiting. She took it, teeth clenched. I lifted her against me, one arm around her hips, the other free to draw if needed. Her breath grazed my throat. A noble, feline warmth.

Ahead, Sergen led carefully. He scanned the flanks, panting. The ground was softer, sandy. Bad sign. Howlers loved this terrain. Better grip. More speed.

A cry. Sharp. Sudden.

— Contacts on the left! Roud shouted.

I set Althéa down behind a crumbled wall.

— Kal, with me!

The Howlers burst out like a tidal wave. At least twenty. Distorted shapes. Low to the ground, claws extended, jaws wide open. Their speed was inhuman.

— LINE! I shouted.

Sergen veered off, too slow. Too far left.

— No! Get back!

But he'd already moved. His foot slipped. A beast hit him from the side. He rolled, got up—too late. A jaw clamped onto his shoulder, another on his hip.

— Sergen!

He screamed, stabbed blindly. The creature yelped, but a second was already leaping.

I took the hit. My blade cut the air, severed one hooked arm. Kal, behind me, charged and slammed the other to the ground, shield crushed into its throat.

But Sergen… Sergen wasn't moving.

His chest bled. His mouth was open. Eyes wide.

Fuck.

No time.

— Close ranks! Archers, sweep fire! Open zone right!

Arrows flew. Three Howlers fell. I leapt over a trunk, slashed another's throat clean. Blood sprayed my face. I rolled, reset, shot a point-blank arrow. Hit dead center in the sternum.

The din rose. The Howlers howled back. The smell of fear, sweat, blood. An ancient scent. Primal. The kind that marks real battles.

— Irla! Area mana, now!

She obeyed. A magic wave, not very strong, but enough to throw off two beasts charging her. Roud used the chance to finish them.

They held. They listened. They killed.

But Sergen…

— Kal, cover the rear. We pull back. It's over here.

— And him?

I gave Sergen's body one last look.

— He didn't listen.

Kal said nothing. Just nodded. And fell back.

The broken pack, we ran. Straight for the nearest ruins. I'd seen an arch in the distance. Maybe an old bridge, or a crypt.

Behind us, a roar.

Deeper. Graver. Heavier.

They weren't done.

And I knew what that roar meant.

The real one was coming.

We ran.

No strategy. No tactics. Just instinct.

The ground slipped beneath our boots, stone became sand, then mud, then rock again. Ruins blurred past. Broken arches. Toppled pillars. An old collapsed temple where the wind whistled like a lament.

I carried Althéa in my arms. She said nothing. But her fingers clung to my collar, tight. As if her body had realized before she had that the danger wasn't over.

Behind us, the others followed. Kal brought up the rear, shield raised. Roud gasped, one hand on a cracked rib. Irla could barely stand: she stumbled, caught herself, but kept going. Alik limped, his bow half-broken on his back.

— Almost there! I shouted.

I saw the entrance. A breach between two wall segments, hidden beneath rubble. Shadow poured in like a pit. Perfect to hide.

We dove in.

A tunnel. Damp. Narrow. Spiderwebs brushed our faces. I felt Althéa's heart pounding against my flank. Her skin burned with fatigue.

We pushed deep until the light vanished. Kal collapsed a wall behind us, blocking the entrance with dead stones. Roud fell against a column. Irla sat directly on the floor, eyes shut. Alik threw up in a corner.

I laid Althéa on a dry slab. Her hair stuck to her forehead. She breathed hard, but no visible wounds.

I turned to the others.

— Count arrows. Potions. What's left of rations. Kal, stay on guard. Me too.

Silence settled. Painful. Heavy.

Then Irla murmured:

— What was… that scream?

I clenched my teeth.

— That wasn't a scream. That was a call.

— You mean…

— An Alpha. One of their leaders. Maybe worse.

No one answered.

An hour passed. Maybe two. The cold wrapped around us, but the still-warm blood on our clothes kept our nerves taut.

I approached Althéa. Her breath had slowed. She opened her eyes.

— You never sleep? she whispered.

— Not when being hunted by a beast army.

— Thank you… for earlier.

I nodded, saying nothing.

Her eyes slid to my chest. It was covered in blood. Not mine. Not yet.

She reached toward my arm. A slow gesture. Like silent recognition.

Silence returned.

I was about to reply when a sharp crack split the air.

Then a second. Heavier.

Kal raised his head.

— It's from the surface.

— Get ready.

I drew my blade. It vibrated slightly. The air had thickened.

And above… something approached.

The ceiling trembled.

A dull echo. Like a heartbeat. But not human.

The stones ran with condensation. Dust trickled down. Then more. Silence warped. Then… a noise. No. A sound. Thick. Wet. Like amplified breathing. A beast's breath.

Then the roar.

It made the column I leaned on vibrate. Irla screamed. Kal raised his shield. And I… I recognized that cry.

A Howler Alpha. Three meters of muscle, bone, and hate. An anomaly. A survivor from the Eastern Front. Even sorcerers avoided it. Its skin was black, streaked with red veins. Its jaw could crush a helmet. It moved with the speed of a predator… but the rage of a chained god.

— Get ready, I growled.

Too late.

The ceiling exploded.

A rain of stones. A shadow. And it was there.

It landed in the center of the room, knees bent, massive arms spread wide. Its skin vibrated. Its claws scraped the floor. And its eyes…

Red. Burning. Full of intelligence.

Althéa jumped back. The two guards still by her side, frozen from exhaustion, stepped in front.

— No! I shouted.

Too late.

The Alpha moved.

The first guard raised his sword. Didn't even get to swing.

One claw. One move. His head flew.

The second screamed. Tried to block. The monster smashed her against the wall like a fly.

A crack of bones. A spray of blood.

Althéa screamed.

— Kal! Cover her!

The shield rose. The Alpha struck. Kal staggered. A shock like an anvil to the chest. He held. One knee down. But he held.

I ran.

My saber sliced the air. I aimed for the neck's base. A clean strike. Surgical.

It turned its head at the last second.

Its hand caught me mid-air.

A brutal blow. I slammed against a column. My shoulder cracked. I hit the ground, dazed.

— SORA! Irla screamed.

I got up. Vision swayed. The monster was already charging Kal. A stampede. An earthquake by itself.

— Irla, light! RIGHT NOW!

She obeyed.

A flash. A burst of white mana.

The Alpha growled. Blinded. Stepped back. Just one. But enough.

Kal struck. A desperate swing. His blade bit the beast's shoulder. A wound. Superficial. But a wound.

I lunged at him.

My blade pierced its thigh. Blood gushed—black and thick like burning oil.

It roared. Grabbed me.

And threw me down like a broken puppet.

I felt ribs crack. Mouth filled with blood. But I still held my blade.

It raised its arm. A massive claw. To gut me.

So I did what I should've done long ago.

I rolled sideways, pushed off my leg, and rammed my saber into its flank with all my strength.

It howled. Stepped back.

Kal took the chance. Shield bash. To the knee.

The Alpha collapsed.

Alik, behind, loosed two arrows. One in the eye. One in the throat.

It convulsed. Rose. Groaning. Wounded, but alive.

Fucking monster.

I rose, staggering. My arm hung. Shoulder dislocated. Side on fire. But I could still fight.

I ran.

Blade high.

It saw me.

And that was the last look it gave.

I drove my saber into its open jaws.

The blade came out the back of its neck.

A gasp. A twitch.

Then it fell.

Silence.

A deathly silence.

I dropped to my knees. My body trembled. Blood poured from my mouth. My sides. My legs gave out.

But I was alive.

Kal panted. Irla cried. Roud was covered in blood. Alik had collapsed, shaking.

And Althéa… she had remained there.

Frozen. Eyes wide. Breath short. Her shirt torn by shrapnel. A trail of blood on her hip.

I looked at her.

She looked at me.

And for the first time since we arrived… she seemed afraid.

Not of the monster.

Of me.