The Divine item [Mimir’s Spine] glows as its other unique ability activates for the first time. The air stills, the forest goes silent, Garashist freezes in place, the World waits. The demon’s heart misses its next beat, his blood stops in his veins, nutrients stop diffusing through cell walls, electrical signals in his brain cease, and the water in his body can’t even rotate to form crystals.

 

 

 

I pull my cane from the demon’s tail, and take a moment to appreciate the power of my cane. One skill activation and I just killed something in the third tier of classes. I wonder if it could kill a Named.

It probably could, though I doubt they would let me get close enough to activate it.

I lower the mask back over my face and open up my skill menu. It has been a long while since I’ve leveled up any class other than [Gentleman].

 

I smile, enjoying the increases in my attributes, specifically my physical ones. Since all my other classes are non-physical, I’ve struggled to acquire improvements in my martial stats. Thankfully, it seems the [Gentleman] class has been fixing that deficiency.

With a thought, I open the list of my [Gentleman] skills, and read up on the new additions as well as my previous ones I’ve yet to check. Most of the skills aren’t very useful for me. Like, really, why is [Fluid Calligraphy] even a skill? Why is it ranked as [Rare]?

I shake my head at the absurdity of the system. Many of the higher-ranked skills really aren’t that good. A skill’s tier is more often a reflection of its esoterism and difficulty rather than utility. Kinda like my legendary [Smooth Skin] skill. It does nothing for combat or crafting; all it does is make it so I can’t grow a beard… or any body hair… or get wrinkly…

“Actually, now that I think about it, isn’t getting wrinkly a sign of aging? Wait, am I going to look young forever? Huh…”

 

_____________________________________________________________

 

Jessica is… impressed. When the demon unlocked Its full power, she knew it would be impossible for her to defeat it. None of her angels, regardless of the number she summons, would have the power to do so. Maybe if she had the mana, she could try summoning an Archangel, but without a circle, the spell would most likely fail or the Archangel would be out of her control.

Thus, she was expecting a bloody and violent battle that Quasi would ultimately win. She thought that the forest would be destroyed, the ground upheaved, the [Necromancer] and his horde forgotten and obliterated as collateral damage, and all manner of chaos to ensue. What she didn’t expect is for Quasi to use his Divine cane and kill the demon instantly.

“How?” she hears Shina ask while gazing at the unmoving, dead statue of Garashist. Quasi just stands there and seems to stare into the distance.

“That was so…! He was so…! AWESOME!” Aiden cheers loudly. The young man giggles with glee as he shakily gets up and tries to make his way towards Quasi.

Without fanfare, Jessica grabs the young man by the collar as he passes by and pulls him to the ground.

“What?” Aiden squawks.

“It’s not over yet.”

Aiden frowns. “But the demon’s dead.”

She shakes her head and points at the treeline.

All eyes turn and bulge as they see an unending stream of the undead. Hundreds shuffle into the devastated clearing, first a smattering, then more, until it becomes a horde. Moaning, groaning, stumbling, shambling, they single-mindedly make their way towards the living. While Garashist lived, he kept the undead out of his way, but now an army of revivified corpses converge upon them.

“Ughhh,” Shina groans. She stands up, “We need to get out of here. Jess, can you summon more of those angels? If we can get one for each person, then they can carry us to safety.”

Jess shakes her head. “Low mana.”

Unlike Quasi, she doesn’t have insane regeneration or a massive mana pool. She could summon maybe three or four Angels at most, any more and she risks passing out from low mana.

“Damn, ughh.” Shina kneels down and starts breathing heavily. “We can’t just stay here and die.”

“We’re not going to,” Jessica says while shifting her gaze at Quasi.

“Bone!” she yells and then points at the incoming undead horde.

Quasi looks at her, and then at the undead.

He shakes his head and then points at the ground where he stands.

“What’s he saying?” Aiden asks.

Jess frowns. ”I’m not sure, but-”

She is cut off as the ground trembles.

 

___________________________________________________________________

 

The ground shudders, a small movement as a claw shifts the earth. A leg lifts, and the ground rumbles. The tail moves and the terrain collapses as the undead wrenches itself free of its earthen prison and the entire crypt caves in.

Quasi feels the vibrations and senses the movement right under him. With a mighty leap, he jumps into the air. Wings of bone erupt from his back. They flap, and he ascends higher as the ground beneath him crumbles.

An undead the size of a skyscraper rises from the dirt.

Quasi flies further aloft, gaining even more altitude as the undead climbs out of the destroyed catacombs. Once free, it spreads its wings of bone and roars into the sky with a burst of pitch-black Hellfire. On its shoulder, a middle-aged man stands with a staff in hand. His eyes stare directly at Quasi, not with anger or hate, but with curiosity.

Quasi, in the meantime, calls up the status of both the undead and the [Necromancer].

 

 

_________________________________________________________________

Abernick frowns at the flying masked man and tightens his hold on his staff.

“Did you kill the Demon?” he asks.

The masked man nods and points down.

Abernick looks and finds the demon’s corpse shattered underneath his undead’s feet. He feels some small annoyance at the loss of a pawn, but it matters little now. He got what he came for.

“Have you come to take my life?”

“That depends on your plans for the undead.” the masked stranger answers.

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Abernick raises an eyebrow. He was sure that he would be targeted for death by the Guild. After all, he is a [Necromancer] of a level that kingdoms would fear. Well, it matters not. Blood will flow, but it does not need to today.

“You’ve made it far to reach me, but your mission ends here. I’ve gotten what I need, so I will spare you, and,” he glances at the people huddled together, “your allies. I have no quarry with you.”

The masked man quickly shakes his head. “Nope. Can’t let you. You’re about to kill innocents, a lot of innocents, over a single man who has wronged you.”

“What!?”

“Look, Abernick, vengeance is good and all, and I would support your attempt wholeheartedly,” he sighs, “but not when you plan on murdering a kingdom’s worth of civilians for it. There are other ways, better ways, you can solve this.”

“You…” Abernick darkly chuckles. “Oh, I’m sure. But she’s gone… She died, and it’s their fault! Because of him! Him and every one of his godsdamned [Assassins]!” He takes a breath. “Now get out of my way.”

“You know,” the masked man idly spins his cane, “violence doesn’t have to be the answer. An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind. A rampage will just leave more loss in its wake, innocent men, women, and children dying in the crossfire.”

Abernick grinds his teeth. He knows this! He thought that exact thing before, had been told that by his wife before, and yet… He can’t stop his anger from boiling up. “I am Abernick Faul, the greatest [Necromancer] of our age. I have tamed the dead, summoned demons, spat at the gods, and destroyed my enemies,” he growls. “Not you, nor anyone below a Named will stop me. So, this is your final warning: Leave or perish.”

The masked man chuckles. He raises up his hand and grabs his mask. He removes it and places it inside his robes. Violet glowing eyes make contact with Abernick’s. The young man smiles.

“[Resurgent Melody].”

 

___________________________________________________________

 

Like moths to a flame, all eyes are drawn to Quasi while he attempts to placate the [Necromancer]. He sprouted wings and then took to the sky, whereupon he began speaking with the man on the giant undead’s shoulder.

“What are they talking about? Can anyone hear?” Shina asks.

“Something about murder.”

Eyes shift to the formerly sleeping member of the group. Brando has awoken, and he looks exhausted. His ears twitch as he tries to pick up the dialogue. As a Sloth-kin, his senses are better than most species.

“Brando, you’re awake! Are you all right?” Shina asks.

“Sh,” the sloth-kin shushes her, still listening hard. Still, the sloth-kin nods slowly, eyes trained on the two above. Brando’s expression hardens.

“Something’s wrong,” he says.

They all look up and find Bone without his mask.

“[Resurgent Melody].”

A great and terrible crash fills the air, like a clap of thunder. Softly, a drumroll rumbles through the air, crescendoing into a melody of distorted guitars. The metal melody screams, shaking the ground beneath them.

Jessica feels the music rising, taking form. Somatic magic, spreading around them into a spell.

 

 

“Shit,” she curses, knowing that Quasi is going to do something incredibly stupid.

“I feel stronger,” She hears Aiden say, but she ignores him. Her eyes are on Quasi.

“You may tame death…”

Quasi chuckles and flicks his wings, rising higher into the air. The [King] smirks down at the lowly peasant who has yet to learn his place.

Quasi spreads his arms and his eyes flash violet. “BUT IT IS MINE TO RULE! [Ruler of The Dead]!”

A tsunami of mana rolls forth from Quasi. Jessica quickly calls up her aura and creates a protective mental barrier around herself and the others. His aura breaks over hers and envelops it, but she holds firm.

“What’s happening? What is that skill?” Shina gulps.

Jessica takes a deep breath. “He’s taking control of all the undead.”

Stunned, everyone looks around. The undead surround them, moaning softly, their eyes glowing a sickly green. Then, all at once, the risen corpses freeze and the pale perversion of bioluminescence gutters out. A moment later, a vibrant, violet glow of unlife returns to their eyes. As one, the horde turns to Quasi and bends knee.

“The big undead is still green,” Brando states coolly.

Jessica frowns, watching the undead dragon's skull flickers, but the green light is still staying strong. The undead is too high level for Quasi to just commandeer it.

She looks to Quasi, who is still smiling, possibly even wider now.

“Little fool who thinks he has mastered Death, let me show you how small you are.”

“Ah, fuck,” Jessica curses as four glowing violet tails sprout from behind him.

“What's wrong?”

She doesn't know who asked, nor does she care. She raises her arms up into the air and casts [Divine Barrier] over the entire group.

“[Greater Undead Modification], [Skeletal Creation]:[Greater Bone Behemoth].”

The music rests.

A violet aurora glows to life above Quasi, slowly spreading out to cover the sky. A snare beats a simple 4/4 time. Streamers of mana flow down and engulf each of the undead. The undeads’ bones turn to powder which flows back along the undulating streams and gathers in the sky, glittering in the aetherial purple light.

An electric bass plays an ominous arpeggio. The black light spreads farther, over ground, consuming the bones of the still peaceful dead.

The electric guitars rejoin, first together, then in counter chords. The cloud of bone gathers, compresses, and swirls into a maelstrom. The feet form first, humanoid but massive, they slowly descend from the cloud. The tibias and fibulas follow, incredible columns of calcium in proportion to the feet but out of all proportion to the world.

The music crescendos. The pelvis coalesces and beside it are hands akimbo, as though the monstrous skeleton exists somewhere fully formed and has now deigned to descend upon the earth.

The ballad hits its finale. Chest, arms, shoulders, and skull form and the undead’s feet touch ground and sink under the skeleton’s weight. The cloud of bone is exhausted and the pale light of the aurora again spreads over the land. Amethyst light flares to life in the Behemoth’s chest and eyes, lighting the broken land in its baleful glow.

There the death’s head stands, crowned in thorns; a grim, grotesque parody of the beast that conquered the world, that dared gird up its loins before God and answer Him. The Behemoth looks down upon the dragon.

The music stops.

The wind Halts.

And the monster opens its maw.

 

“KNEEL... BEFORE... YOUR... KING.”

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