{DING! You gain 7 levels. You are now level 352}

{You gain 84 DEX, 84 STR, 126 VIT, 98 MAG, 49 PSY, 49 DEF}

{Reaching level 350 has granted you advancement. Choose one of your progression paths other than [Hellfire].}

Ashtoreth leaned her head back and sighed. "This is brutal," she said. "You're absolutely killing me, here."

"Where'd you land?" Dazel asked.

"352."

"Ouch."

"I'm gonna be really upset if I die, later," she said, scowling at her system notification.

They were both sitting on the check-in desk in the hotel lobby. The humans had gone ahead to continuing exploring the hotel, which was apparently massive, while Ashtoreth stayed back to choose advancements.

Or rather, advancement, singular. "I'll grab the aura that I saw in [Drain]," she said. "Better chances of [Drain] getting a useful upgrade in the new tier anyway—[Drain], please."

{Advance [Drain]}

{Choose an upgrade to gain, then choose to retain or replace all other options}

Upgrade [Aura] with [Aura: Tithe]

Add 30m to the radius of your [Aura].

Enemies affected by your [Aura] will have all their stats reduced by a low amount. You gain an equal amount of stats.

This effect is slightly reduced for each added enemy it effects.

Upgrade [Aura] with [Aura: Thirst]

Add 30m to the radius of your [Aura].

Enemies affected by your [Aura] will have their [Mana] or other resources drained at a low speed, replenishing your [Bloodfire].

Gain the [Bloodfire Efficiency] ability:

Absorbing your hellfire to replenish your bloodfire is now slightly more efficient.

"Huh," she said, peering at the last ability. It was useless for her current purposes, but it was still interesting. A better conversion rate for absorbing hellfire—how close would it get her to perfect efficiency? How many ranks would that be, if it was ever attainable?

She'd been hoping for an upgrade to [Spellsteal] or to [Rammstein: Draining Rounds]. Either would have been useful in the fights to come.

"I'll take [Aura: Tithe] please," she said.

{You upgrade your [Aura] ability with [Aura: Tithe].}

"Thanks," she said. "Though to be honest, I'm still pretty upset about how things went down."

She eyed her system messages, almost expecting a new one to suddenly appear and read something along the lines of 'Sorry, but coincidences happen and its more than my job's worth to hold the clock just for you.'

Instead there was nothing.

She sighed. "Hell was one thing. Heaven was another. But when the System's apparently helping speed along the downfall of Earth, I really got to wonder what it is about this place that's so special."

"Really?" Dazel asked. "I'd have figured you'd be the last person to ask why someone else might be obsessed with Earth."

"I don't think the Authority of Heaven is as desperate to eat a cheeseburger and go to a ball game as I am," said Ashtoreth. "I think they're probably here for something else." She slumped back and lay her head on the desk. "Dazel, I should have been a detective."

"I don't know, your current career path really feels like it's more built to your skillset."

"What's my current career path? Aspiring hero of humanity?"

"Happy-go-lucky murder tourist?"

Ashtoreth scowled, but ignored him. "If I were a detective," she said. "I could figure out what my father's up to, figure out what the Horsemen are up to, figure out what you're up to… would you believe that I don't even like mysteries?" She sighed. "After I become the Monarch, I'm gonna pull on a deerstalker cap and really get to the bottom of all this, you hear?"

"I'm probably going to ask you to free me, then."

She sighed again. "Well, we'll do that first. But then I'm going to figure out what's so special about Earth. Why is it in the cosmic, planar equivalent of a racey love triangle from a monster romantasy."

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

"An… interesting analogy."

"Hell can be the dark, mysterious bad boy, right?" Ashtoreth said. "And Heaven can be the other dark mysterious bad boy, but with slightly different portions of each. More mystery, less dark."

"So what you're saying is, this is all your attempt to live out you self-insert Earth slashfic?"

Ashtoreth took on a breathy voice. "'Oh Earth,' Heaven declared, intensely. 'I have to have you—I don't care what the rules say!'"

"Please stop."

"'But Heaven,'" Ashtoreth continued. "'You can't attack with four level 300s in the first days of System integration!' Earth declared, waifishly."

"I'm out," Dazel said, rising off the counter and flying into the hallway. "I'm going to go find the humans."

Ashtoreth followed him, her voice taking on a husky quality. "'Once I get my hands around your Monarchy… I won't be able to control myself.'"

Ahead of her, Dazel picked up speed. She followed suit and began to recite another lurid line from her emerging fanfiction, but then both of them stopped. From somewhere deeper into the hotel, Ashtoreth could hear a steady din, a babble of people.

"Let's go check it out!" she whispered to Dazel, flying ahead of him.

The noise grew louder as she wandered through the halls, and very soon they turned through a set of open doors to find themselves in a grand ballroom. Frost, Kylie, and Hunter stood nearby, and several clusters of humans wearing armor, military uniforms, or plain clothes were scattered about the mostly-empty room, talking.

Their conversations grew quiet as she entered and all of them turned to stare at her. She twitched her wings and swished her tail as she looked around at them, smiling.

But internally she had to wonder. There were more than two-dozen of them. Were all of these men going to have to die?

Hopefully most of them would opt out, like her people.

"What's up, fellow defenders of Earth?" she said loudly.

No one answered. Several of them stared at her with darkening expressions.

She shrugged. "Sorry about later, I guess. But the important thing is that your hearts are all in the right place."

She moved into the room to join her people, who made a space for her in their little group.

"Good stuff from your levels?" Hunter asked.

"Nope!" Ashtoreth said.

"You need any encouragement?" Frost asked.

"Please," she said. "I have perfect confidence that I've got this monarchy in the bag. All I have to do is… well, literally kill War and Famine."

"Speaking of," Dazel said, nodding toward the other end of the ballroom.

She gasped. "It's War!"

The Horseman stood at the other end of the ballroom. His helmet was removed, and she saw that his eyes were still leaking blood as he stared at her. He still wore the rest of his armor, an unnaturally massive set of red plate.

"He doesn't look so tough," Ashtoreth said quietly, narrowing her eyes at the dreadnought across the room.

War cocked his head, then dismissed his massive suit of armor, revealing the tighter bodysuit beneath.

Ashtoreth gasped again. "Zero Suit War!" she said, lowering her voice as he approached. "It's getting serious. Do I talk to him?"

"Eh. If you think it'll help."

"What's up?" she said to the Horseman as he approached. "I see you're still, uh… constantly bleeding from your eyes. So like, apropos of nothing at all, how's your health plan?"

War just stared at her.

"Like, do celestial equestrians of doom get good coverage? Or is it one of those deals where the pay is so good they just sort of expect you to figure it out yourself?"

War stayed silent.

"We don't have to talk about the eye-blood if you don't want," she said. "It's just, you know, it's very visible. It grabs the attention." She winced slightly, then added, "Maybe someone should take a look at that, is all I'm trying to say. Like an eye doctor."

War spoke, and his voice was like a cascade of gravel: dry and grainy, but smooth in its overall cadence. "Your Highness."

"He speaks!" she said, grinning. "And respectfully, for some reason."

A flicker of anger seemed to touch War's eyes for a moment, then was gone. "I acknowledge that you got the better of me, Princess."

"Princess now," she said, putting her hands on her hips. "I thought it had been a while since you cared at all about killing one of my family. Actually," she said, her voice growing caustic. "I seem to remember now with painful clarity exactly what you called me."

"I addressed you with disdain because you had not earned my acknowledgement," he said. "I now know better. Your bladework held a spark of genius." He gave her a slight nod. "Time enough could fan that spark into a captivating fire. I regret how things must proceed."

She scowled. "Bro," she said. "Guy. You called me 'child-spawn of Baphomet.' That was a dick move, okay? You knew it was a dick move. You did it because it was a dick move."

"Your deceptions were indelicate," War said. "Yet their efficacy gave them a kind of graceless power that I admire. The clash of a blacksmith's hammer against the red-hot blade is a cacophony more than a melody, yet there is an appeal to its sound and rhythm. You have earned my acknowledgement where before you found only disdain."

Ashtoreth folded her arms and glared at him. "Dude, I'm not going to validate your cope by playing along. You were jerk, Conquest was a jerk, and now that I've ruined your shit you want to act like I should be happy that you're going to treat me decent? Get real, buddy."

"I've killed many of your siblings, Daughter of the Lightbringer," said War. "Yet all of them lacked your fire, your vigor, your—"

"I'm out," she said, turning to walk away from him mid-sentence. Then, loud enough so that she knew he could hear, she said, "Gosh. Can you imagine being that great a fighter, but pairing it with the worst social skills imaginable?"

Dazel chuckled. "I feel like I read a webnovel about that, once. Or maybe it was a forum story about someone's barbarian in D&D. Actually, it might have been a comic with—"

But he stopped as she heard a sudden lull in the conversations of the ballroom around her. All of them had gotten a new system notification.

{The first round of the election has been decided and will take place in 9:56.}

{Vampiric Archfiend Ashtoreth vs Archangel Famine}

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