cultivation - spring 1 [nq]

**Tatya** · Thu Jan 02, 2025 5:40 pm

Jewels :

3,017,500

Rank :

C-Rank

Race :

Daemon (Vice)

Experience :

67,500

Reputation :

2,500

Class :

Hunter

Aura :

The Hermit

Magic :

Requip Magic

Strength :

13

Speed :

11

Constitution :

1

Endurance :

5

Intelligence :

80

Mana :

1,000

Weapon :

Off-Hand :

Head :

Body :

Ring :

Tatyana Nikolaevna Romanov was incredibly skilled at two major points - the first was compartmentalizing complex emotions until they were safely chained away under the cinder of her heart and buried leagues beneath a frozen lake that spelled doom and ecstasy with any crack: and killing things, especially beasts (of which many men qualified). She was the truest breed of a hunter she had met in her somewhat reliable existence thus far, especially in regards to her time spent on monster slaying and the people she had crossed paths with during such. She was nothing if not more dedicated than your average marksman. She had to be. ... Someone had to be.

She was strapped to her ears, and a good dagger additional within the soft brush of her cottontail and both boots - there was nowhere safe from something that could mince you when hands roamed Tatya, and this was a sufficient deterrent for anyone to try. It saved to be prepared for similar danger in anything - and anyone - you met.

[ 171 ]

**Tatya** · Thu Jan 02, 2025 5:46 pm

Jewels :

3,017,500

Rank :

C-Rank

Race :

Daemon (Vice)

Experience :

67,500

Reputation :

2,500

Class :

Hunter

Aura :

The Hermit

Magic :

Requip Magic

Strength :

13

Speed :

11

Constitution :

1

Endurance :

5

Intelligence :

80

Mana :

1,000

Weapon :

Off-Hand :

Head :

Body :

Ring :

Even with the number of accessible knives and the occasional crossbow bolt that she could reach and fire within a moment's notice of threat, she preferred the heft of her sword in her right hand. She would favor a dagger with her left, but her dominant grip served the force of a hunter's blade greater. It made it feel more consequential to wield. It was more real. She could never let herself forget the person she was below every dust of frost and submersion of this subhuman self: she was still human, she still had a heart, and the Succubus couldn't take that from her no matter the crimes she had to commit until she was free. The ends would have to justify these means. They would just have to.

And who would she be, when she reached that end? As more blood stains this heavy blade, and weighs it like a scale in her grasp? It would be someone who remembered every kill. She would face it then.

For now, she would sink its bite into the neck of a sabretooth-hound and finish off the snake of its tail with her other hand.

Goodnight.

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cultivation - spring 1 [nq]

Thu Jan 02, 2025 5:40 pm

Thu Jan 02, 2025 5:46 pm

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