The Bloodbath Odyssey; I reincarnated to become the cursed

Gently, Simma unlocked the room and slowly opened the door. Sarah knew what would come next since she had experienced it before, but actually, what happened next made Simma want to hug her all over again.

At first, there was only a threshold, a void framed by a door. Then, in a slow, majestic unravelling, the room materialized, walls stretching outward as if reality itself was weaving in real time. Everything that an Azren would need appeared into it:

Furniture appeared where there had been nothing: a wide mattress draped in pale sheets, a sleek wardrobe, a little couch resting beside the door, and a desk with a single chair poised near a tall, thick curtained draped window.

An empty cabinet stood stoically beside the wardrobe, it looked like where weapons could be kept. Maybe after the final tournament and he became an Azren, then he could make use of that.

Simma's eyes kept darting around the room, a blissful smile lining his face, spreading wider with each new sight.

He didn't know if he should call it technology or whether he should call it magic, all he knew was that he liked it.

This might be the very first happy memory he had ever had in his whole life, and he wanted every moment of it to count. His eyes became wet but,

"The hell, I'm a man… besides, I wouldn't want Sarah to see how I cry."

He held back the tears of joy as he walked into the room, followed by Sarah Silently, it was as though she was attuned to his feelings, because, well, she knew what he had been through, what he had endured, or maybe half of it.

She patted him by the shoulders as they now stood in the middle of the room.

Then, in a sudden burst of boyish glee. Simma threw himself on the bed, feeling its softness, his body sinking into its plush embrace. it was way better than the infirmary bed. He rubbed his hand on the sheets and inhaled their clean scent.

Sarah chuckled softly.

To her, what she cherished most was the moment they were having, and the sight of Simma actually smiling, looking very happy.

"Brilliant," he muttered, waggling his hand around the sheet like a child discovering snow for the first time.

Then he stood up and moved over to the table and desk, he trailed his index finger on its smooth surface. It was empty, though, so he kept his transparent phone on it and …

"You can't be serious,

Sarah's voice rang sharp with mock outrage.

"They gave you clothes? Oh my God, you're the only person who's gotten clothes. You've got to be kidding me!"

Sarah blurted out with her chilled feminine voice, as Simma turned and walked up to her. She was standing beside the wardrobe, which she threw open with a dramatic flourish.

"Hmm," he mumbled as he started sifting through the clothes that were hung and arranged very well in the wardrobe, like they'd been waiting just for him.

"They're giving special treatments now, huh," Sarah smirked, an impish spark in her eyes.

"Seems like someone's jealous," Simma teased, his lips curling.

Sarah shot him a glare and threw a playful punch at his shoulder.

"How dare you," she laughed, her face radiating beauty at that snigger.

"Ouch, Sarah!"

Simma feigned pain as he held the place she had punched.

Sarah stared at him. He was very happy, and the way he laughed, she kinda liked it. His obsidian-black hair tousled, his dazzling azure eyes alight, he was… perfect.

"Well, I won't call that a punch, I would rather call it… uh… seduction?" Simma chirped in playfully. He wanted to know how she'd react, and she did.

Sarah's cheeks flamed red. "What?" she blurted, chuckling despite herself. "You silly..."

She punched him again on the shoulder, this time a bit harder.

"Alright, alright, that one got me," Simma muttered amidst laughter.

For a brief moment their eyes met, and Sarah looked away sharply, Simma also felt a flush, and had looked away staring at the window as if he had spotted something.

Sarah looked down at the wardrobe as she saw something at the base.

"Simma," she called sharply.

"What?", he answered.

"What's this?" she said, pointing at a brown chest tucked at the base with thick edges. On the box were sharp designs drawn around it, and the edges were pinned with some bronze-looking designs. It looked old but yet very smooth, new and pristine.

Now they were serious.

Simma crouched, lifting the box, it was lighter than it looked. He carried it towards the bed and sat down, Sarah sitting beside him with the box between them.

Curiosity prickled his fingertips as he clicked the clasp.

'SNAP'

The box unlatched. Slowly, reverently, Simma lifted the lid, and let it to hang open on the box's hinges and....

"No way."

"No bloody way."

Simma looked into the box. Though he had gotten some knowledge overflow in the infirmary, he didn't know what those were, but he knew they were currencies of some sort.

Sarah stared aghast into the box. Well, not that the money surprised her, she was rich courtesy of her family, but what amazed her was where all those money came from.

No one received pay before becoming an Azren. Not yet. At this stage, recruits were given only food and care from the citadel, that is, for now by the way. So how come? Where did the money come from?

"Th… these are money, right?" Simma asked, voice cracking with disbelief.

Sarah glanced at him. Even horrified, he managed to look infuriatingly handsome.

"Yeah," she murmured, still studying the treasure. "And it's a lot of it." Her fingers traced the meticulous arrangement.

"Well, whoever gave you these money did a very good job since they arranged it accordingly," she added, looking into the box which had two divisions. One part held notes and the other held coins.

Simma's mind wandered: How can the Great City, with all its technology and advancement in science, still be using coins? Isn't that a little bit ancient?

But he shrugged off the thought.

It didn't matter though, if not for the Bloodbath, or the Purge as some would call it, humanity would have advanced more in science. That was by the way.

He arrowed his mind back to the currencies in their midst and asked,

"How do they work?"

The question sounded inappropriate as Sarah replied with a question,

"You mean how the currencies are graded?"

Simma nodded.

She shrugged, leaning closer to the box.

"Well, the currency of the Great City is called Sylian. Now, these notes here..." she said, lifting one of the notes, which was green in colour. "is a hundred Sylian"

Simma picked one of them up too, examining it as well, it had many drawings on it, and many symbols, marks and all but one was more outstanding. At its middle was a circle, and inside the circle was a man drawn in it.

"No way," Simma pondered, now looking at the drawing of the man clearly. Due to how the picture was made in the note, it appeared hazy, since the note has this way it was designed.

At first he didn't see it clearly. But now, looking closer, Simma thought his eyes played tricks on him.

How possible was it that this man now wanted to torment him even into reality?

It was the suited man drawn into the center of the note, and then underneath it was a name

'Zelihuth O'Connor.'

"Is everything okay?" Sarah asked, noticing how Simma stared at the money.

Raising his head, he replied, "Yeah, I'm fine."

He wanted to dismiss it, but no, he couldn't, not when the man in his dreams stared back at him from every green note.

"Who is this man? Why is he on every one of these notes?"

Sarah raised a brow as she replied, almost incredulously.

"Who doesn't know Zelihuth O'Connor, the once great Omega that sacrificed himself and thereby reduced the impact of the Bloodbath.

"Without that sacrifice, I doubt that there would have been anything left in our world, and it was this sacrifice that granted us these unique gifts,"

She said as the 100 Sylian green note in her hand turned into a red rose with a surge of of violet light, and she sniffed it, inhaling its scent.

Though she wanted to hand it over to Simma, she thought against it, it would be weird.

Simma nodded as he tried to wonder why this Omega of a suited guy came to his everyday dream. What did he want from him?

But Sarah had continued telling him about the other notes.

"This is the 50 Sylian note" she said. raising it up from the box.

The 50 Sylian note was a red-coloured one, and the person drawn on it looked old, it was a man with grey hairs, and his name was Shwann Tcheaor.

Then the 10 Sylian note was orange, the person drawn on it was the current Sentinel Head. The 10 Sylian note was made new and that was why it bore the recent sentinels name; DERMOT REGNALD together with his picture.

The only time Simma had seen him was during his arena tournament, which he was present at with the other five Sentinels.

"Well," Sarah added, pointing to the lower partition of the box "these are the copper tinklets, and then the silver tinklets, they are the same, it's just that the Lotuses like their colour silver.

She smiled faintly.

"A hundred tinklets, copper or silver, make up one Sylian. That's all."

Her phone buzzed, the sharp sound slicing through the moment.

"Oh men, it is time for our first basic training," she said, looking into her phone.

Simma blinked.

"Our… first what?"