Reincarnated Avatar; I got 2 SSS-Rank Unique Skills
Chapter 54: Kali, the Demoness of Silence

Chapter 54: Kali, the Demoness of Silence

*Genevieve’s POV, moments before the assassination...*

She had felt it, the shift in the air.

One moment, victory was theirs. Beelzebub had fallen, the hive lay in ruins, and the key to the final floor awaited them.

The next... silence.

Not just a lack of sound, the absolute absence of it.

Her instincts screamed; something was wrong.

And then... a blade.

It sank into her back, sharp and absolute, carrying the finality and absolute stillness of death and silence, draining her HP.

Her breath hitched; her body froze.

Pain, white-hot and searing tore through her very being.

Genevieve could not feel it, after all, this was just her in-game Avatar, Soft Mist but with her headsets on and so immersed in the game already, she could sense it, the pain of her Avatar.

Her knees buckled, the world spinning around.

And as she fell, everything blurred.

Noah’s voice. A flicker of movement.

Her teammates, stunned.

Then, darkness.

One move... was all it took to end her life.

...

*Genevieve’s POV, in the void...*

She should be dead.

She was dead.

Everything around her was black, a vast emptiness that swallowed everything.

Yet, her fingers twitched.

She could still feel her staff.

She could still feel... her magic.

No.

She wasn’t gone yet.

Genevieve had played Warstar for over a decade, she knew the mechanics of death in the game like the back of her hand.

And she knew she had just enough time to act.

Maybe a fraction of a second, maybe a second, maybe 10 or more, but that was enough, right?

Her mind raced.

Her stamina was nearly depleted, her mana reserves drained.

But she had one option.

A high-level Cleric skill, one that very few could activate at the brink of death.

Why? Simply because the input to activate it was elaborate.

Revive.

It wasn’t auto-cast. It required willpower, precision, and every last ounce of her focus to type in the input for the skill.

Ten seconds..., that was all she had before oblivion took her.

9...

Her time was already counting.

Back in reality, in Benjamin’s room in Birmingham City, England...

If the others didn’t cover their ears with their headsets at this moment, too immersed in the game to be distracted, they would have been startled by the sudden and rapid eruption of hand speed as the beautiful delicate girl furiously typed on her keyboard.

Clack! Clack! Clack!

She forced her magic into the spell. Misty Rose’s hands trembled.

8...

Her consciousness flickered. The void tried to claim her.

7...

She refused. She was not going to die like this!

6...

Kali had caught her off-guard, that was her specialty but Genevieve had no intentions of letting that be her end.

She was ready to fight death if that was the needed requirement to stay in the game and support her teammates..., and support Noah.

She was defiant.

5...

Her magic formed a fragile thread, wavering, threatening to collapse.

4...

Almost there.

3...

A pulse of warmth, and then, the spell took hold.

2...

She grabbed onto life with everything she had.

1...

Light!

...

*Genevieve’s POV, the return...*

With a gasp, Misty Rose’s body jolted.

The world rushed back in a storm of sensations; pain, exhaustion, and the lingering chill of death.

Genevieve felt it all like she was living life through the lens of her in-game Avatar, it was too realistic not to be true.

She collapsed to one knee, drenched in cold sweat. Her health bar, barely a sliver. Her stamina, crippled.

But she was back.

And then, she saw what had happened while she was gone.

Her breath froze.

’No. No. No. NO!’

Kali stood at the center of the battlefield, calm, absolute.

The Demoness of Silence, and Necromancy.

Just like Beelzebub, the Lord of the Flies was a dual-class floor boss, she was a dual-class hidden boss. She was modeled after the Assassin class and the variant of the Summoner class, Necromancy.

And behind her was Beelzebub.

But not as they had slain him.

His body, reborn in grotesque mockery.

His flesh, stitched together by tendrils of dark magic.

His mandibles twitched, his grotesque wings flaring once more.

Beelzebub, the Lord of the Flies, had returned.

And this time, he was hers.

"Oh... no". Benjamin’s voice was barely a whisper, the humor completely gone.

There was definitely a joke here, somewhere! A dark, utterly terrifying, and despair-inducing joke.

Caleb clenched his fists, even he had no words.

Aria’s grip on her blade tightened. In all her years of playing Warstar, over a decade, she had never looked this uncertain.

Noah, their unshakable leader simply watched. His golden eyes narrowed, calculating.

And in that moment, a thought Noah had never entertained before now flashed through his head. ’As a Warmonger, a reincarnated Avatar in the game, if I die in the game, what happens?’

’Do I get to revive like normal players..., or I die?’

Kali tilted her head, her silver eyes gleaming in amusement. "You truly thought you had won?"

That... was a slap to the face.

Her voice was soft, elegant but laced with malice.

"Beelzebub was a tool," she continued. "And now, he is mine".

Beelzebub let out a shriek, a sickening, unnatural wail. The entire battlefield shuddered.

And then, he attacked.

Beelzebub charged first, his twin infernal pistols blazing.

Tatatatata!

Bullets of dark magic rained down.

Caleb’s summoned beasts crumbled in an instant.

Aria barely dodged, a shot grazing against her shoulder.

Benjamin raised a shield of ice, only for Kali to appear behind him in a whisper of movement like a ghost.

A dagger slashed across his back.

He stumbled forward, blood splattering against the hive floor.

Kali did not stop; she was everywhere.

A step. A blur.

Another strike.

Another.

And another.

She was death itself, an assassin that could not be tracked.

And Beelzebub, was now unstoppable.

Doom.

That was the only word that fit.

They were going to die here, all of them.

Genevieve’s breathing shuddered; her hands trembled.

Her team, her friends... were being slaughtered and she was barely standing.

Yet, something inside her refused to break.

She was a Cleric, a healer, the one who kept them alive. On the battlefield, keeping them alive was her sole duty, keeping them alive long enough to find a solution to win any given battle.

And she was still here.

Genevieve forced herself to move.

"Noah!" Her voice, strained and desperate.

The Combat Mage turned sharply, meeting her gaze.

And for the first time since she had returned, she saw something in his expression.

Not fear, not doubt, but rather recognition.

She had a plan, maybe.

His lips curled, forming a small smirk. "Good," he murmured. "About time you woke up".

They were outmatched, outnumbered, but they were not done yet.

And if Genevieve had anything to say about it. ’We’re not losing today!’