System Anomaly: The Sin of Greed[LitRPG/Prog Fem/Anti-Hero]

The full day of hunting in the rifts had been of surgical efficiency.

Diana and Boran left the city at six in the morning and did not stop until five in the afternoon. 

This time, armed with the anatomical knowledge she had extracted from the old tracker and having mastered the [Obsidian Horns’ Igneous Focus], Diana hunted with methodical coolness:

She brought down a Level 47 Acid Fat Centipede by blasting the focused fire beam directly into the monster’s oily carapace, causing the creature’s own blubber to ignite in an internal combustion within less than three minutes of combat.

Further ahead, in the high hills, she ambushed a Level 48 Rift Manticore, shredding the left wing membrane with an Ice Lance and finishing the beast on the ground with Greed’s Flame.

With the Crown of Arcane Sovereignty continuously regenerating ten points of mana per second, Diana did not suffer the brutal exhaustion of her initial hunts. Her Archdemon body responded to leaps and dodges with dense resilience, and she returned to the city without any serious injuries, bearing sacks loaded with iron tusks, combustible oils, and high-purity cores.

Selling the materials at the central butchery and the alchemists’ square yielded twenty silver coins with the [Commander’s Loot] bonus. Diana paid the one-coin daily wage to Boran, stored the rest in the vault, and bolted the iron gates of her estate in the late afternoon.

The faction’s accumulated balance reached the milestone of an untouched 394 Silver Coins (39.4 Gold Coins).

***

Diana went down to the basement’s thermal pool, washed the dust and blood from her hands in the heated mineral water, and changed out of her heavy armor into comfortable black trousers and a dark linen shirt.

She went upstairs to the ground-floor kitchen, poured a cup of cold water, and sat at the polished wooden table to review the alchemy formulas she would test the following day.

The house was in absolute silence.

It was then that her 78 Perception picked up a strange vibration in the air of the inner courtyard.

It was not the sound of footsteps on gravel.

They were fine, almost invisible threads of silver silk being anchored lightly onto the house’s roof tiles.

Diana set the cup down carefully on the table, drew the black steel dagger from her belt, and walked toward the open kitchen window.

Sitting atop the courtyard’s three-meter stone wall, legs dangling casually over the inner side in an utterly relaxed manner, was a man.

***

He was tall, slender, and bore features Diana had never seen in the Second Circle.

His skin was a light gray hue, with markings of black chitin traced along his cheekbones and four small secondary red eyes positioned right above his two primary amber eyes. Beneath the edges of a sleeveless dark leather vest, four additional slender, articulated arms of black chitin rested folded against his ribs.

In his two main hands, he held with effortless nonchalance two curved swords of moon steel with slender blades reflecting the reddish light of the sky.

Diana activated [Command Eye] on the spot.

The intruder’s status sheet flared before her eyes in fiery lettering:

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

[SUPREME ENTITY APPRAISAL]

- Name: Zarek, the Blade Weaver

- Species: Noble Arachnid Demon

- Level: 60 | Class: [Fury Blade Master]

- Supreme Title:[Candidate for the Sin of Wrath]

- Threat Level: Extreme / Lethal Speed Combatant.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Level 60. A Candidate for the Sin of Wrath.

Diana felt the density of the man’s presence, but she did not back down. She took a step into the courtyard, her obsidian horns crackling with a spark of mana from her 195 Intelligence, dagger raised.

“Who are you and how did you cross the barrier of my wall?” Diana asked, her voice icy and sharp.

The man on the wall let out a low, smooth laugh.

He hopped down from the top of the three-meter wall with the lightness of a spider descending a thread, landing on the gravel without producing the faintest sound of impact. He did not raise his swords in an attack stance. Instead, he sheathed both curved blades across his back with a crisp click of metal latches.

He smoothed back his disheveled black hair and took three steps toward Diana, appraising the Commander with an open look of brazen appreciation.

“I was watching your hunt in the rifts this afternoon, Commander Diana,” Zarek spoke. His voice was velvety, firm, and brimming with arrogant confidence. “A Level 40 Archdemon who fires thermal beams from her horns and burns an acid centipede in three minutes without breaking a bone... You are simply magnificent.”

He crossed his two primary arms over his chest, while his four secondary chitinous arms adjusted the buckles of his vest:

“Strong men appeal to me plenty, but women with that calculating fury in their eyes... that is an absolute rarity in this Hell.”

***

Diana furrowed her brow, the golden rings in her pupils narrowing in sheer suspicion.

“You are a Level 60 Candidate for Wrath,” Diana said firmly. “The succession contest for the Sins is between rivals of the same Throne. If you didn’t come here for a border duel, say what you want before I plant an ice lance in your throat.”

Zarek threw his head back and burst into hearty laughter.

“A duel? What a lack of poetic vision, gorgeous!” Zarek took two more steps forward, stopping two meters from Diana, all six eyes gleaming with intense interest:

“I don’t want your head and I have not the slightest interest in your coins. I came to propose something infinitely more interesting:”

He puffed out his chest, flashing a broad grin of sharp white teeth:

“I want to be your consorte. A Level 60 Wrath Blade Master and a Level 40 Commander of Greed... We would be the most devastating, wealthy, and stunning power couple in all Seven Circles of this Hell.”

***

The silence that fell over the courtyard lasted three full seconds.

Diana’s 195 Intelligence mind, accustomed to processing military tactics, alchemy equations, and market interest rates, simply froze into an absolute void before that sentence.

The Commander stared at the six-armed, dual-blade Level 60 man.

She took a deep breath.

And let out a roar at the top of her lungs that sent the firebirds in neighboring trees scattering into the air in sheer panic:

“WHAT?!!!!!”