Chapter 19:

Location, Location… Exorcism

I Am The Prophesied Apocalypse - Volume 1


Morgana didn’t waste time once she left Dorrik’s forge. If she was going to stick around this city for a while, she needed more than her current “mysterious traveler who lives in the same cloak day and night” look.

Her first stop was a tailor’s shop. A middle-aged woman with a pin-cushion wristband greeted her with a too-bright smile. “Welcome! Looking for something formal or casual?”

“Casual,” Morgana said, scanning the racks. “Stuff I can walk around in without looking like I just crawled out of a ruin… which I totally didn’t.”

At first, she tried to offer her some pretty and fancy looking dresses. But upon seeing the disgusted look on Morgana's face, she quickly did a 180 and went to a different direction.

She picked out three outfits, simple trousers and tunic sets, a fitted black coat with silver buttons, and a sleeveless dark blue vest over a white shirt. Nothing too flashy, but definitely a step up from “suspicious traveler in road-stained clothes.” 

The tailor threw in a few scarves after Morgana joked about needing something to “cover her face when people start talking too much.”

By the time she stepped back onto the street, she’d gotten an earful about Althwyn. Apparently, this city was one of the safest urban hubs in the region, good markets, active guilds, and plenty of opportunity… 

But also the closest major city to the warfront. That meant housing prices went up fast whenever the threat eased, and dropped like a stone when the fighting got too close.

When she spotted a shop with a polished sign reading “Hearth & Hall: Real Estate & Land Brokerage”, she figured she might as well check.

Inside, a neatly dressed man with slicked-back hair greeted her with a professional smile. “Looking to buy, rent, or invest?”

“Buy,” Morgana said, leaning casually on the counter. “Something not falling apart. I’m not picky… as long as it’s mine.”

He slid a leather-bound book across the desk, opening to the first page. “We have fine properties starting at just twelve hundred and fifty gold.”

Just, Morgana thought, biting her tongue so she didn’t say Are you shitting me? out loud. Her mind did the math automatically. That’s over a million bucks back home. For that much, I’d expect a free butler and someone to massage my feet every morning.

She flipped through the listings, each price tag making her eyes twitch. Big townhouses, sprawling villas, neat garden cottages… all well over her current coin pouch’s limit of 510 gold. Sure, she had more gems and jewelry, but she wasn’t about to dump them all at once and raise eyebrows.

Then she spotted it. A modest two-story home with a little garden, listed for exactly 500 gold. Morgana tapped the page. “And why’s this one practically a bargain bin special?”

The broker hesitated. “Ah… well. The previous owners… met an unfortunate end.”

“Unfortunate how?”

“They were murdered in the home,” he admitted, lowering his voice. “Some say it’s haunted. Doors slam on their own, whispers at night… no one stays long.”

Morgana smirked. “So, it’s got personality. I’ll take a look.”

The house sat at the edge of a quieter district, its garden overgrown but still charming. The wooden shutters hung at odd angles, and the front door looked like it hadn’t been touched in months.

Two floors, three bedrooms, a big kitchen, a large living/dining room. Out back, she found a cellar hatch. Peering inside, she saw stone steps vanishing into the dark. Perfect spot to expand into a training room. No one snoops in creepy basements.

The air inside was stale, thick with dust. Broken furniture lay scattered, and dark, dried blood stained parts of the floor and wall.

Morgana took the stairs to the second floor two at a time, her boots crunching on grit. Halfway down the hall, the air went colder.

That’s when she saw it.

A man, pale, semi-transparent, dressed in ragged clothing, stood there. His eyes were black pits, and his jaw hung slightly unhinged.

The ghost hissed, rushing forward. Morgana ducked back, summoning her scythe in a swirl of black mist. Guess we’re skipping the welcome tour.

It slashed at her with claws of shadow, and the first blow grazed her arm even through her coat. Pain bit deep, colder than ice.

“Alright, you transparent little shit,” she growled, spinning the scythe into guard. “Let’s dance.”

She lunged, swinging for its torso, only to watch the blade pass through like smoke. The ghost’s broken jaw twitched, looking at her as if it was mocking her attempt.

"Fuck."

Then her weapon shivered in her hands, the edge glowing faintly silver. On the next swing, it met resistance. The scythe bit into the ghost’s form, and it screamed.

“Oh, now we’re talking,” Morgana grinned, pressing the attack.

The fight became a vicious blur, its claws raking at her, her scythe cleaving through its incorporeal body, sparks of spectral light scattering like embers. 

The ghost darted through walls and floors, forcing her to guess its next angle, until finally she caught it mid-lunge and drove the blade clean through its chest.

The ghost let out one last shriek before bursting into a swirl of pale mist, which the scythe greedily drank in.

Breathing hard, Morgana leaned on the haft of her weapon. Well, that was a hell of a housewarming.

Her right arm pulsed as the familiar black script of her magic tattoo flared. Looks like ghost-boy came with perks.

She dismissed the scythe in a swirl of mist and held out her hand. The Soul Tome materialized in her grip, black leather warm against her palm.

Two new entries glowed faintly:

[Skill Gained: Spiritbane Slash] – A spectral-honed strike that can wound incorporeal enemies. Stronger when used with moonlight or shadow magic.

[Skill Gained: Hearthkeeper’s Touch] – Improves skill in domestic crafts such as cooking, cleaning, and gardening. Efficiency and quality are greatly increased.

Morgana stared at the second one. “…Fucking gardening? Seriously?”

She smirked anyway. “Guess even murder-happy ghosts have hobbies.”

Closing the book, she looked around the dusty, blood-marked room and smiled from one ear to another. “Alright, house. You’re mine now.”

ShotoKahn311
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