“Mistakes, I know I’ve made a few. But I’m only human. You’ve made mistakes too, I’m crying~…”

Within a dark and cavernous room, in the company of a powerful and bloodthirsty monstrosity, I’m meticulously carving dozens upon dozens of magic arrays into the floor. The skeleton watches me intently, its skull swerving freely upon its vertebrae, and yet it doesn’t take a single step or make any other motion. I finish carving the ritual circle from my latest necronomicon then take a moment to compose myself, standing opposite to the bloodstained undead.

Just as I thought: the skeleton never considered me a target in the first place. During that entire ordeal, it would prioritise others even when I’m closest. Although it would retaliate whenever I attacked it or approached the exit, in actuality it was just trying to drive me away. The reason is because the cultist’s last commands were to guard the passage and kill everybody in front of it. But to kill something… it has to be regarded as alive in the first place.

“… Lucky me. .”

Name N/A Race Undead Class Risen Skeleton HP 91% MP 100% Max HP 523 Max MP 20 Attack 262 Defence 272 Magic 19 Resilience 133 Agility 124 Integrity 24

Yeesh, just look at those unbalanced stats. No wonder we were having so much trouble fighting it. MP and magic aside, it could probably handle two Mellivoraths at once. All this power, all this survivability, and it’s still technically a risen skeleton. Rather, looking past all the enhancements and examining the formulas that make its , it’s no more than a run-of-the-mill, disposable undead.

… like me.

Pushed to its limit, its soul is now falling apart at the seams. Before I moved all the bodies and started drawing these circles, it’s max HP was almost 600. I can probably leave it well alone and it will disintegrate on its own, long before the night is over.

“But I can’t have that just yet. I need power to stand a chance against the likes of Tascus, and for that… your soul is mine.”

“, activate.”

Class: Risen Skeleton

HP: 90%... 89%...

MP: 95%... 90%...

Good, it seems the large-scale circle has locked onto the target and is fuelling both the “incinerator” and the staff on my back. Although it can instinctively tell I’m one of its kind, it’s still driven by the same ravenous impulses, and at some point… it will hunt for the closest source of spiritual energy.

Class: Risen Skeleton

HP: 84%... 83%...

MP: 80%... 75%...

Little by little, its body begins to twitch as its gaze grows more and more ominous. I draw Bloodletter then use 5 skill points to activate my . I know it’s coming, and in its current state, there is no barrier nor tool in my repertoire that could ever hope to contain this unliving weapon. My anxiety reaches heart arresting levels as its HP continues to drop.

Then, without so much as a sign, the skeleton charges at me, full throttle.

“, activate!”

As its top half lurches over one of my arrays, its weight suddenly changes and the skeleton tumbles onto the ground in a heap of bones. I use the chance to create more distance and position another magic circle between us. Again, it blindly charges forth, and again, I play my hand then reposition myself. Every time it falls, I take a few pot shots before it can recover.

“! !”

Class: Risen Skeleton

HP: 69%... 68%...

MP: 55%... 50%...

I can do this. Its health is almost a third of the way down. That said, these traps are one-offs and I only have so many. Moreover, its movements are becoming more sporadic, making it harder for me to lure into my traps. Did it learn not to approach me in a straight line?

All of a sudden, the skeleton changes its approach and tears a large chunk of the floor. I conjure a just as the debris collides with my spell. Even with Maleosis’ blessing, I can see my barrier shudder as the stone shrapnel leaves pockmarks in the ground. Three- no, four traps are out of commission. Although there is a plume of dust, I can see its revolting soul making a beeline for me. I dash to my left and…

“, activate!”

Again, I trigger one of my magic circles just as it runs through its centre. However, the undead suddenly drops to its hand and feet then scampers toward me. I trigger another , but it brushes aside my spell and pounces at me.

“!”

CRACK!

Its broken forearm fractures the floor and pierces straight into the ground. I reappear behind it with a slight tear in my cloak. My decision to kill the lights beforehand may have just saved my life. There is no mistaking it. This damn thing has regained some of its cognitive ability, as it scurries about like a three-legged lizard.

is now on a 60 second cooldown, but I have three more charges thanks to the cultist souls in my core. That said, I’d rather not lose the increased mobility granted from the . Time for phase 2.

Class: Risen Skeleton

HP: 62%... 61%...

MP: 30%... 25%...

“Bring it!”

The undead bolts toward me at breakneck speed, evidently unafraid of my traps. Owing to the fact it’s originally a bipedal being and that it snapped its right arm, I’m barely able to sidestep the skeleton. More often than not, it overshoots and tangles itself in its own limbs, but as it continues to attacks, its recovery time grows shorter and shorter. The fact I can only evade it along its right side makes luring it into position all the more-

Crunch!

“Damn it!”

As I sidestep the undead and avoid its broken arm, it uses its jaws to latch onto my left wrist. I manage to detach my forearm just before it can drag the rest of my body, but now my limb is dangling from its maw. It charges again, but this time I use and stand my ground with Bloodletter in my hand. I jump over its grasping left hand and block its jagged right arm. However, since I am mid-air, the force of its backswing is enough to send me flying to the roof as my entire body is flattened against the ceiling.

HP: 93/183

MP: 115/168

Damn it. That’s not the skeletons status, but my own. Half my HP is already gone and deflecting another attack like that without will probably end me. But it no longer matters…

“!”

… because I finally lured it right into my trap.

“!”

I let out a sigh of relief as my multi-layered magic circle, the most complex I have ever devised, safely activates and pins the undead to the ground. Every square centimetre of mass is now pressing down on it all at once. That said, I’m alarmed the accursed thing can still shuffle itself through brute strength alone. Moreover, there is only so much mana in those inscriptions. I sheath my sword and pull out my magic staff, the core now brimming with accumulated power.

“!”

Instead of conjuring a dark nail, I imbue the spell into my staff and use the siphoned energy to supercharge the effect far beyond its basic strength. I then throw my staff into the centre of a small array that is connected to the super . Almost immediately, the dwindling spell is rekindled and the undead is forced back onto the ground. From the base of the staff, hundreds of dark tendril-like “shadows” crawl across to the undead and bind every bone in contact in the ground. The restraints are not perfect, but with every second of the it is only growing weaker while my grows stronger. I barrage its body with from above as it’s HP continues to drop.

Class: Risen Skeleton

HP: 36%... 34%...

MP: 0%

Good. Its MP is already gone and is now draining its remaining HP at a faster rate. Just in case, I will activate the “incinerator” to finish it off. I should wait until its HP is below 15% before I deliver the coup de grace.

Class: Risen Skeleton

HP: 32%... 37%...

MP: 0%... 10%...

Wait, what?

Oh shoot, my arm in its mouth! Since I forcefully ejected it, it’s absorbing the residual energies in those bones. Huh, what is it-

“!”

Using its brief shot of spiritual energy, it pulls itself upright and throws my detached forearm with the force of a cannon. However, I woefully misread its intention as my limb flies towards my staff. The increased gravity distorts its trajectory and the projectile ends up falling short, but not without spraying my staff in dozens of bone pieces. To my abject horror, I watch as a piece of my humerus bounces off the magic core, causing my staff to slowly tilt before rolling off the array. The black shadows immediately dissipate and the soon follows. The undead raises its skull and looks at me with frenzied eyes.

Suddenly, a bang. The risen launches itself at me like a bullet, and before I can even register, my right is gone and I’m falling to the ground. I quickly roll back onto my feet and scour my surroundings, but to my surprise I don’t see it around me.

It’s above me, latched onto the ceiling like a damn cockroach. From that position, the can’t reach it, and it knows it as well. I have to find a way to force it back onto ground.

BOOM!

“Huh? Ngh!”

I narrowly dive out of the way as the skeleton kicks off the ceiling and turns itself into an undead cannonball. As I right myself, I hear that familiar boom and immediately leap out of the way again. The sound of it launching itself repeats as I keep diving to the side for dear life.

The bloody thing is bouncing off the ground then using the excess force to land back onto the roof! It’s repeating this motion again and again, readjusting its aim every time. Its bones can take the punishment, while one clean hit will crush mine I don’t have time to counterattack and its charges are too damn strong to block with …

Wait, that’s it!

“Mr Bonny, go!” I say while throwing my pet. “Drag my staff to that — Wow! — magic circle, now!”

I bound back and forth, in a zigzag pattern, as the skeleton leaves small craters in my wake. I try to avoid the runes of the and the large , but honestly, I’m already running on cracked earth. I’m tempted to spend all 40 skill points on my , but I refrain and use 5 instead.

My Bonny’s got this. I believe in it.

My decrepit rabbit eventually drags my staff over to the centre of the magic circle. With my superhuman strength, I leap over to the array and fetch my staff and Mr Bonny mid-roll. I then gaze up at the skeleton just as it prepares another killing jump.

“!”

I conjure my infamously fallible shield around me. As expected, the undead launches at me and breaks through my spell as I closely sidestep its landing. However, this time… it doesn’t have enough momentum to return to the roof.

“!”

I deliver a powerful uppercut that realigns its trajectory to be perpendicular with the floor. While the undead is still in the air, I quickly stab my staff into the ground and empower the large magic array around us. The airborne skeleton reaches the apex of its ascent, and…

“!”

Like I hoped, the risen enters a state of microgravity as it freezes in mid-air. It grasps and struggles with all the force of a hurricane, but with no magical abilities or surfaces to kick off, it’s as good as stuck. The precision timing and death-defying misses that led to this moment would have left me panting if I were still human. Then again, it wouldn’t be so bad considering I would be breathing highly oxygenated air.

The magic circle has more than an enhanced installed in its array: it has also been running the entire time. Now, both me and it are in the middle of a column of concentrated oxygen. All I have to do is activate the third function of the magic circle and a will shoot up and detonate the undead… along with me.

I wasn’t supposed to be stuck here, and as it stands, I need to trigger the , to safety, then cast defensive magic to guard against the ensuing explosion, all in span of a second. Manually connecting the staff to the array is already taking a fair amount of my concentration, and despite my perfect timing, I’ve only weakened gravity, not removed it. The skeleton is slowly accelerating at a few millimetres a second. No choice but to risk it.

“Burn in hell! , activate!”

“…”

“… Activate! Activate? , go! , shoot! , explode, detonate, trigger, whatever the hell I actually programmed!”

I swerve my skull to examine the complex array, only to let out an audible groan upon spying a particular crack in the ground. The couldn’t absorb enough force. The enchantment has been ruined, and I am in no position to scoot over to fix it. Should I teleport away then throw my own at it? No, I’ve already stripped bare the oxygen from the rest of the room. It won’t even ignite!

“Come on, think! Igniting it isn’t enough. I need something with… explosive… *Sigh* Oi, you!” I yell into the artefact hidden in my back jaw. “Respond to me, right now!”

(Enbos! Oh, thank goodness you’re alright!)

(Wait, Enbos? Is that the big guy really on the line?)

(It is so, Sig) says a female voice. (Are you well, Enbos? Did you prevail over the skeleton?)

Although I’m slightly confused why Sig is speaking openly in the presence of Hachirou and Lili, now is not the time.

“Sorry guys, I need you all to keep quiet. I wasn’t talking to you. I’m was talking to him.”

(…)

“You can drop the act already, Maximillian! I know for a fact you let us keep the communicators, just so you can listen in. Why else would I speak with Hachirou in a different language up until now? Anyway, at the count of three, I need you to detonate the collar around my neck!”

(E-Enbos, what are you…)

(Hold on, Hachirou) whispers a different female voice. (Let us watch.)

Again, there is nothing but feigned absence as my imaginary blood pressure reaches impossible levels. The blasted thing is now descending at one centimetre a second. Its grasping digits grow ever closer while I’m stuck in place. Nonetheless, I keep holding out, waiting for Maximillian’s belated reply.

(…)

“Goddamn it, Maximillian! This is no time to play dumb! Michael is dead, and I have this bloody skeleton breathing down my neck! If you’re lucky, you can get both of us in the same explosion. Now will you or will you not!?”

(… Brother Michael’s final wish. You have 2 seconds.)

Making himself known, Hachirou and Lili exclaim with utter shock. However, I reply in a heartbeat.

“Continue the mission.”

(… *Sigh* Very well. The collar can be detonated immediately with a specific phrase. Just in case, I will now recite it in reverse…)

“… Oh, you son of a- Arrrgh, forget it. Wish me luck.”

Disengaging the communicator, I look up to find only a few metres remain between me and the stone-crushing, flesh-tearing skeleton. I work quickly and detach my head, exploiting the low gravity to remove the collar before popping my skull back on. I then away and use while the undead drops to the floor. Before it can launch itself back to the roof, I say the magic words.

“I GOT IT OFF!”

BOOOOM!

I knew Maximillian picked a powerful bomb, but witnessing the explosion first-hand has filled me with newfound disdain. In a brilliant flash of fire and light, I’m thrown against the wall and pinned in place by the surge of force. I can’t even move my limbs, long after the vibrations reside, as I slump to the floor and take in the devastation before me. There may not even be a rune left of the magic circle in that storm of falling dust.

… The skeleton is gone, and I’m beginning to wonder if it was worth all the effort. Considering I only have 32 out of 183 HP left, that battle was a little too close for comfort. I can recover a good chunk by absorbing its soul, but that doesn’t change the fact I’m missing an arm and I’d rather not chop off Michael’s.

“Guys, I made it… Erm, guys? Hachirou? Lili? Sir Kills-a-lot? *Sigh* Figures,” I say as I spit out the magic emblem, the gem now thoroughly cracked.

I stumble back onto my feet and begin sifting through the rubble. Hopefully there is still something left to scavenge after that powerful blast. I can still sense its soul hidden in all that debris, yet to be swept away by the life fall’s-

Smack!

All of sudden, something bursts out of the smoking crater and tackles me, sending me rolling back all the way to the wall. It’s the blasted skeleton, or rather, what’s left of it anyway. Only a torso, an arm and half its skull remain, but it’s still trying to strangle the life out of me. My vertebrae are being ground to dust and its spiritual energy is hungrily trying to absorb mine… but to no avail. I reach out and grab its cranium before activating my skill.

“!”

It may still have the physical strength of a troll, but when it comes to spiritual energy, I have the grip of a giant. With a steel grasp, not on its skull but its very soul, I slowly yet steadily drag it out of its marrow. Its spiritual links stretch then snap like cobwebs tugged away by a child. Out of desperation, it tightens its grip around my neck, but finger by finger, its joints loosen as I sever its bodily functions. At last, I take its soul into my core and let it collapse into a pile of charred bones.

It’s over. This time, it’s finally over. Like I hoped, its soul decay has slowed inside my core, although it will probably unravel by tomorrow morning.

"Long enough. Tch."

My crushed neck is only barely holding up my head. I should never have underestimated the tenacity of an undead, especially a risen that has fallen into “ravager-like” state. True to its design, it was ferocious, it was relentless, but…

“Please… just kill me…”

“I will, Gavel. However… it will not be an easy death!”

… It’s frustrating, it’s unforgivable. I will purge them from this world, and partake in the embers of life that I was deprived…

… he needs to suffer more. To do that, I’ll use to create a solution with the strength of an industrial-grade acid. That way, his eyes will burn and his respiratory system will become a bloody mess…

“…”

Ding!

Ding!

Ding!

Synergy between Innate Skill: Soul Core (Greater) and Innate Skill: Spectral Sense (High) detected.

Integrity is sufficient to evoke effect.

Spectral Sense (High) has evolved to Spiritual Medium (Master)!>

“Ah, yes. Of course, that would happen.”

Although I certainly didn’t expect to receive that upgrade, especially as my first master rank skill. Nonetheless, I’ll be needing those extra levels in my confrontation with Tascus.

I can already do that with spirit arts, although the latter part is awfully vague. Now how can I best use my new ability to-

Wait a second. If is an improved version of , and relies on how much spiritual energy I can scan, that means…

“. .”

Ha, I knew it! The skill synergises with . I can now read the description for which I couldn’t before. There might be more synergies with my other spiritual skills so I best test them out later. For now, I need to discover the source of Tascus’ power, and I have to say I’m kind of disappointed with the results.

“It looks like a generic buff that strengthens with time. Does Tascus strength come from his second blessing instead? No, the sensation from this pact is exactly the same. The only unique thing is this trait that allows it spread to other believers, who might one day upgrade their marks to pacts of their own.

…

… Oh my god. So that’s what it is. This isn’t a boon: it’s a damn Ponzi scheme!”

Maximillian’s approach is all wrong. At this rate, the only head that’s going to get cut off is his own, and I can’t take down Tascus without the priory’s help! I need to use the terminal to locate him immediately. It’ll be tough convincing him, but I’ll trap him in a looping corridor until he listens if I have to.

“But first things first, I need a new-”

“-ler.”

“Huh?”

I turn on my heel to investigate that voice, when all of a sudden, I stumble and fall to one knee. For a split second, I believe my leg is broken, but I look down to find it is intact. The spiritual and magical links are all there. What is going on?

“Tyler.”

This time, I hear the voice clearly, and more shocking than hearing my true name is that I recognise their voice. How could I not?

“H-Helena?”

No, that’s impossible. Helena is “here”. She always has been, ever since I started this journey, so why would I hear her voice now? Is it because of ? No… I-it has to be the doing of that ghost. It has-

Thud.

I’m no longer upright but lying face down in the rubble. I feel like I’ve been trapped in my own gravity field. I struggle to turn my head, but as I do, the darkness at the edge of my sight encroaches on my field of view.

Am I blacking out? An undead like me?

“It’s okay, Tyler. I’ll watch over you.”

With the last of my willpower, I force my right “eyelid” to stay open and notice that familiar, undefined shade crouching next to me. As my vision continues to slip… the ghost becomes more definite. Is… its hand on my head? I… I see…

… a long cotton skirt… auburn hair… the same serene eyes… as that fateful night.