Chapter 59: The Level Zero [Hero] Chapter 56

[Dance with Death]. It was Noele’s newest Skill. She had gained it from killing an undead wyvern down at the bottommost floor of the Fallen Wyvern’s Keep.

She had leveled up three times from that battle. A culmination of all the lower-leveled skeletons and ghouls she had fought off, along with single handedly defeating a single undead far higher-leveled than her. If the Noble Spellsword had to guess, the undead wyvern had been Level 58 or 59.

Back then, Noele had only just hit Level 50, so there had been nearly a 10 level difference between her and the undead wyvern. A simple 5 level difference was supposed to be stark. An ordinary Level 55 [Warrior] could normally take on a dozen ordinary Level 50 [Warriors]— assuming that no artifacts were involved. And even with artifacts at play, a Level 50 [Warrior] would still very likely be easily defeated by a Level 55 [Warrior] with no artifacts.

It wasn’t just a distinction in the increased strength that came from being higher-leveled. It was also a direct result of the additional Skills a Level 55 [Warrior] gained. At the higher levels, each Skill was far more impactful than a Skill at the lower levels. And normally, a Skill would be gained at least once per level up. Maybe every other level up at most. But Noele had only gained a single Skill from leveling up three times.

That meant only one thing— that that single Skill was worth three Skills.

It was quite obvious considering its effects. It was the very same Skill that Noele activated before attacking Odell.

[Dance with Death]. It had an ominous name, and Noele had been quite apprehensive to test it out when she first got it. It was only thanks to Garron’s urging over the last week did she finally give it a try. And it was a greater Skill than she even thought possible.

It was pretty much equivalent to a capstone Skill. Its only detraction was that it extracted quite the toll on her. But it was a worthwhile cost. Because [Dance with Death] enabled the Noble Spellsword to turn one of her active Skills into a passive Skill. Meaning, if she had used [Dance with Death] together with [Grand Blaze], she’d be able to conjure a blast of golden flames continuously until [Dance with Death] came to an end.

The only problem was that once [Dance with Death] ran out, Noele would be completely drained of her magic. When she had first tested the Skill out, she collapsed into an aching ball of pain when it came to an end. Garron had to carry her back to the farm. And each subsequent time she tried it out, the duration was always the same.

Ten minutes.

Noele had ten minutes to use any of her Level 50 Skills in her repertoire. And she opted to use… a Level 40 Skill. Instead of channeling [Grand Blaze] or [Unending Dauntless Fury] or [Nobleflame Armor], she had chosen [Noble Slash].

It almost seemed stupid, really. But the Noble Spellsword had her reasons. While [Grand Blaze] was her highest-leveled offensive Skill, it wasn’t her most powerful attack. That went to Elegant Noble Slash or Glorious Noble Slash. And they were not Skills.

Both those attacks were a result of pushing herself beyond her limits, but more importantly, they vastly improved upon the effects of [Noble Slash]. They functioned as a refinement and enhancement of the Skill, but without actually activating the Skill.

So with [Noble Slash] passively active, it was going to be far easier for the blonde girl to draw out either Elegant Noble Slash and Glorious Noble Slash repeatedly, especially when she was already exhausted.

Her blade shone with a wisping golden aura. Dim and translucent— like a luminescent mist. She had ten minutes until that glow would fade… but she didn’t need it. The Noble Spellsword glanced down at the man lying before her.

He was Odell the Monster of the Mist. The leader of the Miststorm Riders. A Level 55 [Bandit Boss].

He had been responsible for so many atrocities— he had taken away so many innocent lives. But most of all, he was the one who had killed Noele’s sister. And finally, he had been defeated with just a single swing of her sword.

Noele almost felt like it was too easy. She looked down at Odell as he gasped for air. He reached for his broken broadsword, and she kicked it to the side.

“Y-you…” the Monster of the Mist choked, glaring up at her.

Noele eyed him wordlessly. He writhed on the ground, his heart impaled, and blood pooling beneath him. Around her, his mist began to dissipate. The white blanket coating over the streets of Whiteridge peeled back, and he inhaled weakly.

Is this really it? the Noble Spellsword wondered. Is this really the Monster of the Mist?

For whatever reason, she had expected something more from him. But he had fallen just as easily as the rest of the Miststorm Riders. Noele wasn’t sure if she was supposed to say something here. She just stared at his prone body as he reached for a bag at his side.

“You know,” she finally said, closing her eyes. “For years, I have dreamt of this moment every night before I went to sleep— I have always imagined what it was like to slay you in battle like you are some kind of terrible monster.”

Odell produced a vial, and she kicked it away from him.

“But you aren’t a monster. You are just a man. A pathetic, weak man who can only hurt others.”

He watched with wide eyes as the glass shattered against the cobbled ground. He made a sound, but Noele just raised her blade.

“I am Noele the Noble Spellsword. You killed my sister, Odell. Her name was Nora the Noble Sworddancer.”

“I-I…” he started, but his jaw refused to work.

He weakly raised a hand to protect himself, before suddenly closing his eyes. The Noble Spellsword shook her head at his final pitiful display. And she swung down with her glowing sword.

“I want you to remember her name as you die—” she started.

And Odell’s eyes snapped open in an instant as he caught the blade. Noele blinked. The Monster of the Mist smiled. The hole in his chest rapidly began to regenerate with an empurpling flesh. A dark aura whipped out of his body as he cackled.

“I don’t even know who that is!”

With that, an explosion of purple energy sent the Noble Spellsword flying back.

 

—--

 

Odell had been dying. He was certain he was going to die to this blonde girl. And such an unbecoming death of him, too?

But he couldn’t do anything about it. His heart had been shredded, and the only thing keeping him alive was his sheer tenacity alone. He couldn’t even speak. His only chance of survival— an Elixir of Full Recovery— had been tossed aside and broken.

The Monster of the Mist had resigned himself to his death when that happened. Nothing would save him now. It was too late. None of his Skills mattered at death’s door. Even his Void powers wouldn’t save him.

At least, that was what he thought. Until he heard it— the Void’s call.

It was so brief. It wasn’t a voice. It was a sensation. The very same one that he felt when the Void guided his actions. Except it was far more overwhelming.

He had to slam his eyes shut as the world was overcome with a violet quaking. He held his breath, suffocating from an intoxicating scent. His skin prickled, and he felt like he was plunged into the deepest depths of the ocean.

All his senses were overloaded for a long moment, and then proceeded to return greater than ever. It was like he could see further, move faster, smell more, and hear the world around him. But that wasn’t just it. A brand new sense was bestowed upon him.

The sense of the Void.

It was like Odell could see things he never could before. He saw power permeating the world around him. Not mana— something that was hiding away if he just peeled back at that curtain of magic.

“So this is what it means to be truly Void-touched,” he whispered as he raised his head.

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The Monster of the Mist had always been able to draw the Void’s power ever since he joined the Sect of Abyssal Thorns. But according to the Kyn-Le’ard, Odell had only been partially Void-touched. The fact that the [Bandit Boss] could still use his Skills was proof of that.

Those who had truly embraced the Void’s power could no longer draw strength from the World System. But in exchange, they were granted a power beyond comprehension. Supposedly, only three members of the Sect of Abyssal Thorns had truly attuned themselves with the Void. And they could perform feats that were almost impossible to imagine. From regrowing decapitated heads to tearing down entire mountains.

And Odell had been granted this strength in the moments before he would perish. His grievous injuries instantaneously healed, and an immense power pulsed through him. He flexed his hand, testing his connection to the World System.

“[Maze of Mist]!” he called out. But while his voice echoed like it drew power from beyond, nothing came in response.

He swept his gaze over the city, watching as his magical mist continued to dissipate. His lips twisted into a smile. He broke out into a terrible laughter as he spread his arms wide.

“Marvelous! I have never felt so free! This is truly—”

And a figure fell upon him. His eyes flickered as the blonde girl stood at his flank, raising a blade pouring with a golden aura.

“Die— Glorious Noble Slash!” she screamed as she swung down.

The blast of energy ripped across the street, shredding the cobbled ground. A massive crater spread out in a cone-like shape. It destroyed everything it touched in over a hundred feet. The Noble Spellsword drew back, raising her golden blade.

“Is he…?”

“You missed,” Odell replied, standing a dozen feet to the left of her.

Noele’s eyes grew wide as she pivoted to face him. He just stood there casually, shaking his head.

“Do you see that?” he said as he strode forward, and she backed up. “You heard my voice, and you immediately reacted to it. Now you should ask yourself this— why do you feel the need to announce yourself when you’ve got the drop on me?”

She just stared at him, utterly befuddled. “How did you survive? What just happened? What is this?”

“I really don’t get you.” Odell sighed as he raised his hands. “First you warn me before you launch a sneak attack, and now you’re asking me questions— do you think we’re friends? I am not going to tell you shit.”

A deluge of purple smoke poured out from his palms, filling the streets of Whiteridge like a layer of twisted mist. Noele could only watch on as this gas quickly engulfed all of the city. All across the battlefield, heads turned, and the fighting stopped as this gas consumed everything.

 

—--

 

“What is that?”

Saros the Gnome Inventor came to a halt as he saw the dark haze pouring towards him like a tidal wave. He backed up, reaching for his Bag of Holding as he braced himself for the purple gas. Was it poison?

He didn’t know. He quickly produced a metallic mask just as this new layer of mist reached him. But when it touched him, he didn’t start hacking in pain. He didn’t collapse to the floor, dying from some poison.

No— all he found was that his movements slowed.

 

—--

 

Deon found himself stumbling back as the purple mist touched him. He had been standing protectively over his slowly recovering partner when he saw the approaching wall of gas. He had braced himself for anything, but he didn’t expect this.

His body grew heavy. He leaned against his halberd which he also struggled to keep up. He gritted his teeth as his minor injuries suddenly became far more apparent on his skin. A soft grunt came from behind him, drawing his attention.

Skye tried to sit up, and failed. “W-what is going on? Why do I feel so… weak?”

And the Virtuous Guard didn’t know the answer to that.

 

—--

 

Noele watched as the golden aura wisping off her blade dimmed. She took a step back, finding her movements to be more sluggish than before. This purple mist was almost suffocating. It was hard for her to even breathe. But still, she raised her sword at the figure standing before her.

The Monster of the Mist strode forward, wreathed by purple tendrils of gas that formed a faux cloak.

“I do not ever recall killing your sister. But that is to be expected. Because I assure you—” He smiled savagely as the mist gathered in his fingertips, creating a broadsword out of thin air. “I will not even remember killing you either.”

With that, he barreled towards the Noble Spellsword as he laughed madly.

 

—--

 

And in a farm right at the edge of Wolfwater, a few miles away from Whiteridge, a figure stirred in bed. She raised her head, blinking her eyes open as she yawned.

“Ugh, how long did I nap?” she asked, glancing out the fogged windows.

She hadn’t felt like she slept for that long. But by the looks of it, it was already evening, and she had to have been asleep for nearly a full day. She really didn’t want to get up, but she still dragged herself out of bed with a sigh.

“Whatever,” Amelia said. “It’s time to wake up.”