Ch088-Staring Match With The Abyss (Patreon)

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Ch088-Staring Match With The Abyss

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“You know you’re going to lose points if it takes you too long to get to the quest, right? Doing things in a timely manner is part of being a high-ranking adventurer,” Lorn repeated, as Sylver continued to walk a few inches above the treetops using the [Bracelet Of The Aurai].

Lorn in turn just floated right next to Sylver, sitting with his legs crossed and reading a book without a cover. A gust of wind sent leaves flying through the air, that stopped just short of touching Sylver and flew down and passed right through Lorn.

“My wyvern needs room to take off, I can’t just sprout wings and fly whenever I want to,” Sylver explained.

They continued to walk/float through the air for a while.

“So how does a young man like you end up becoming a necromancer?” Lorn asked.

Sylver walked up an invisible set of stairs to get over a particularly tall patch of branches.

“It’s a long story,” Sylver said.

“I’m sure it is. But while I’m like this I’ve got nothing but time,” Lorn said.

Sylver tried to look at him but went back to looking where he was going a moment after.

Lorn was a short, red-haired, man with a matching bright red beard, that carried a mace on the left side of his belt, and a lute on his back. His skin had a strange dark tone to it, too even, almost as if it had been painted on.

Right now, however, he didn’t look like anything. His face was see-through, to the point it looked like camouflage whenever Sylver tried to look at him. The same was true for the rest of his oddly motionless and floating body. Even trying to look directly at him was akin to trying to spot something at the very edge of your peripheral vision.

“My first guess would have been astral projection if I hadn’t seen your body change into this with my own eyes. Then there’s the question of how exactly you’re able to follow me like this,” Sylver wondered out loud, as another gust of wind caused Lorn to disappear for a moment as leaves passed through his body.

“It’s a long story,” Lorn said, with a slight smile on his face.

The corners of Sylver’s mouth twitched but he kept walking in silence. The forest stopped dead where there was a tall cliff, but Sylver just kept walking on thin air and got further and further away from the forest and cliff’s edge.

“I was born in a brothel to a lady of the night. For one reason or another, the woman who had given birth to me abandoned me when I was 2 years old. I was raised while working for the Madame of the house and found out I inherited some of my father’s skills and perks when I gained access to the system at the tender age of 7,” Lorn said, as Sylver looked around and decided Will had enough room.

“Inherited?” Sylver asked.

“It’s rare, but not unheard of. Several noble families go out of their way to introduce inheritable skills and perks into their bloodline. Especially ones as useful as mine, I don’t mean to pat myself too hard on the back, but in terms of information gathering, I have no equal. Even you mage types with your clairvoyance can’t hold a candle to someone who can waltz into an impenetrable fortress and take his time writing down the class and level of every single soldier and dog hiding inside, while they can’t do a single thing about it” Lorn explained.

A long-jawed head came out from beneath Sylver’s robe and exploded downwards as if it were a falling boulder. The shadowy creature uncurled two massive wings that appeared to be a chasm from Sylver’s perspective before they began to rhythmically move. It's scaled back curled as it twisted in on itself, and began to glide downward.

A moment before crashing into the trees below, the creature flapped its wings so hard that it sent a wave through the bright green treetops. It quickly gained height as it gained speed.

Sylver stopped using the [Bracelet Of The Aurai] and began to fall. Gravity had a hold on him for a mere 3 seconds, before Will flew under him and Sylver’s robe grabbed onto the wyvern’s spinal spikes and attached his feet to Will’s back.

“I actually ended up becoming part-owner of brothel I was born in. It’s called the Dungeon of Delights; you’ll get a discount if you mention my name. So that’s me, now tell me about yourself. I’m going to go out on a limb and guess you were born into it?” Lorn asked, as Will gained altitude and adjusted his course.

“Not exactly. My father was a butcher, and my mother was a goat herder. I had 2 brothers and a sister, and I was either the oldest or second oldest. My-”

“You had a twin?” Lorn interrupted.

“No, I just don’t remember them all that well. I lived with them at our farm for a while until one day something that I don’t talk about happened, and then my master took me in and started teaching me magic. I wasn’t particularly talented, but I was smart and driven enough to make up for that,” Sylver said, as his robe fluffed up to insulate him from the cold wind.

“Why become an adventurer though? And one focused on combat of all things? Mages tend to go into either support or some sort of specialization, less than a quarter are actually capable enough to hold their own in a fight,” Lorn asked. Sylver thought about it for a few seconds while Will passed through the layer of wispy clouds and began to glide above them.

“The concept of might makes right was introduced to me very early on in my life. And my master not only agreed but demonstrated the truth of that ad nauseam. She was also always liked the idea that it’s better to be a warrior tending a garden than it is to be a gardener in a war. In my case, the two weren’t mutually exclusive,” Sylver said.

“How so?”

“To use magic with any degree of competency requires a great deal of research, effort, and understanding. And it’s a lot easier to put down a sword and pick up a pen than it is to pick up a sword after only using a pen all your life,” Sylver explained, as he walked towards Will’s head and made himself comfortable in the crook of the wyvern’s shoulder blade.

“You’re too negative. The world isn’t such a dangerous place that everyone needs to be a warrior to stand a chance. Warrior’s need to eat and drink too, and when you have enough gardeners in a big group, the warriors start willing to put their lives on the line to defend them. Being a gardener is better, it’s safe. And it’s not like it matters which you are if there’s someone stronger than you,” Lorn argued, closing his book and moving it behind himself.

“That aside, there’s the simple matter that I’m not going to get what I want by being a gardener. I have someone doing all my gardening for me while I go out and handle the warrior stuff my gardeners aren’t capable of. We specialize, I’m not incapable of gardening, but I have to be the warrior because I’m a better warrior than my gardener would be. Do you get what I’m trying to say?” Sylver asked as Lorn cocked his head to the side, or at least that’s the way Sylver felt, considering he couldn’t properly see Lorn.

“Not really. Gardeners get to stay home and fuck the warrior’s wife while the warrior goes off to die in a ditch somewhere. The thing you don’t talk about aside, was your master a traveling hermit, or is there some underground cult? Where did you get the corpses to practice on?” Lorn asked, with a hand behind him appearing to be rummaging through something.

“Bandits for starters. A renewable resource considering how many people think stealing the labors of others is easier than actually making something themselves. In my master’s case though, she had a deal with several towns and cities that would send her their dead in exchange for protection or favors,” Sylver said.

“I would have heard about something like that… How not from around here are you?” Lorn asked.

“So far away that you likely wouldn’t believe me,” Sylver answered.

“That certainly explains the odd mishmash of an accent. I tried learning magic when I was young, but the mage that maintained all the spells to prevent pregnancy and diseases tested me and told me my class compatibility is just short of zero. It’s part of the reason I’m almost untouchable while I’m like this, there’s not enough mana in my body for any magic to get its hooks on me,” Lorn said with unmistakable pride in his voice.

Sylver was tempted to send a shockwave through Lorn’s soul just to fuck with him, but the idea itself amused him enough that he didn’t act on it. Sylver smiled to himself as his robe made him a pillow to rest the back of his head on.

“Speaking of which. I’ve heard from other adventurer’s that I’m supposed to feed and defend you and the like and that you would help me out and-”

“Good on you for reminding me. I’d like it if you pretended I wasn’t even here. I can maintain this for a little over a month without any breaks, so until then I need neither food nor water nor sleep. And given that the extent of my combat prowess is shouting “look out!” I believe it’s for the best that you just do what you would normally do and pretend you’re alone. I can make myself visible and heard to others, but considering you’re got some sort of stealthy assassin thing going on, I’m just going to observe,” Lorn explained.

He pulled out a lute from behind the space behind him and started to work on tuning it.

“What makes you think I’m an assassin?” Sylver asked.

“The daggers? The garrote? The fact that you’re dressed all in black, and that I can’t imagine you used anything other than stealth when you defeated a group of giants when you were only level 4,” Lorn explained, humming a note as he played with his lute to match it.

“I’m a mage. But more honestly I’m whatever I need to be. I’d love to say I’m a necromancer before anything else, but if I feel like a fistfight will give me better odds of winning, I’m not above that. As for the daggers, it’s because if I have to fight against someone in close combat, I’m a firm believer that speed trumps strength. The best kind of fight is the kind you can watch while drinking tea, but things very rarely work out so well for me,” Sylver said, as Spring spotted a landmark and made Will adjust his course.

“Truth be told, my mace is mostly decorative. A sword is too common, people will see it and think I have one or two sword skills at best. A mace on the other hand is the kind of thing you use when you have five skills or more related to it. Not to mention, who would carry around something as heavy and uncomfortable as a mace if they could have a light sword or a dagger?” Lorn said, gesturing at his side that Sylver couldn’t properly see.

“As far as deterrents go, it’s a pretty good-”

[??? (???) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 40 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

[??? (???) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 10 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

[??? (???) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 10 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

[Necromancer] has reached level 71!
+5AP

[1 perk available for [Necromancer]]

[??? (???) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 30 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

[??? (???) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 30 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

“-idea. Have you ever had to use it?” Sylver asked with a huge grin on his face, and a faint chuckle emanating from his shadow.

“I’ve used it three times actually. Once to break a pot of jam I couldn’t get open. I used it to crack a giant ostrich egg I bought on a whim. And I stalled a drunk man that could have made me a smear on the wall if he put his mind to it, while I waited for the guards to show up. Why are you smiling like that? Don’t tell me all your weapons are just there to throw your opponents off,” Lorn said, momentarily muting his lute to raise an eyebrow at Sylver.

“Everything I do is to throw my opponents off. I’ve also got darts and caltrops. And as you may have seen I’m not as alone as I appear,” Sylver said, gesturing at Will with his shoulder. He looked at his choice of perks and was surprised to count only 7 this time around. Sylver guessed that the two perks his [Koschei] class gave him had something to do with it.

He immediately spotted the perk he was absolutely certain was directly linked to [Iron Chest].

[Perk: Bound Bones]
-Bind an item/items to a bone.
-Amount of MP required for binding an item/items to a bone will depend on the volume and mass of the item/items.
-Unbinding an item/items will cost twice as much MP as was required to originally bind them.
-Breaking the bound bone will cause all the bound items to become unbound.
*No living creatures can be bound to a bone.
*No undead creatures can be bound to a bone.

It doesn’t mention if it has to be my bones or not, doesn’t mention a limit, doesn't mention what kind of item can be bound to a bone… Theoretically, I could carry around someone’s finger bone in my pocket and have everything I could ever need inside it… Or better yet, use the metallic bone in my chest, as an untouchable storage device. The [Rune Of Indestructibility] said it would remove all effects from whatever was tagged, but I’m getting a good feeling about this perk.

“I think I’ve heard that before, all war is deception,” Lorn said in a sing-song voice, slightly derailing Sylver’s train of thought. Sylver continued to look at his status while Lorn shrugged and went back to tuning his lute.

If I can use the bones of others, I could hypothetically get a corpse, load it up with explosives, have Will drop it right on top of my enemy, and then have an accompanying shade break the bone... I might be able to carry proper food around, and not just the dried-up stuff the shades can assimilate… Sylver thought as he read through the other available perks.

One was an upgrade to [Tools Of The Shade] called [Ether’s Equipment] that would let them create weapons made out of darkness, swords, axes, shields, all the stuff they already have that was specially made by Salgok or was looted from their own corpses. The perk mentioned giving them armor too, but what they had now was already overkill considering how Sylver used them.

It would have been nice to make all the zombies he raised become instantly armored and armed, but it paled in comparison to the possibility of stuffing a corpse’s skull with 50 explosives and then feeding it to a giant monster.

Two other perks either increased Sylver’s MP capacity or MP regeneration, but crippled his dexterity and strength by 50%. It would have been worth it with Sylver’s strength being only 1 right now, but he had a feeling the system wouldn’t let him get away with that. He had also planned to eventually get it to 100, but a 50% decrease hanging over his head would be more trouble than it was worth in the long run.

Even now, Sylver felt the extra weight his rib cage added, it was only a matter of time before he tried to jump and tore his achilles tendon into shreds.

The remaining perks offered a 20% resistance to positive energy, a 5% resistance to all types of energy, and a 100% resistance to frost magic, in exchange for a 150% weakness to fire magic. Which when added to the weaknesses due to [Unholy Blessing], would make one of the most common types of magic a death sentence.

Sylver gave himself an extra minute to think everything over one more time, as Lorn began to strum his lute and mouthed a song without actually saying anything.

In the end, [Bound Bones] was worth it for the sheer potential it had.

[Perk: Bound Bones]
-Bind an item/items to a bone.
-Amount of MP required for binding an item/items to a bone will depend on the volume and mass of the item/items.
-Unbinding an item/items will cost twice as much as the MP cost as was required to originally bind them.
-Breaking the bound bone will cause all the bound items to become unbound.
*No living creatures can be bound to a bone.
*No undead creatures can be bound to a bone.

Sylver continued to smile to himself as he moved the notification out of the way and focused on his status.

Total Level: 76
[Koschei-5]
[Necromancer-71]

CON: 60
DEX: 90
STR: 1
INT: 150
WIS: 100
AP: 15

Health: 600/600
Stamina: 300/300
MP: 1984/2250

Health Regen: 8.50/M
Stamina Regen: 4.5/M
MP Regen: 281.25/M

I have 15 points… 10 into dexterity so it gets to 100 and stops bugging me… And 5 into constitution to keep things simple.

As Sylver finished mentally moving his 5 remaining points into constitution, he saw erratic motion at the edge of his vision and heard Lorn start to shout “LOOK-”

Sylver’s robe burned away like tissue paper as the silver sword tore through its attempts to defend him, and for a moment Sylver was unable to move due to an uncontrollable animal-like panic. He felt Will’s form liquefy beneath his feet and bit a small piece of his tongue off as his body just barely held together as his rib cage was sent flying downward.

*

**

*

Sylver may as well have been blind with how fast he collided with the ground, forming a crater as his reflexes kicked in without his knowledge and made him land without shattering his legs or breaking his neck.

Sylver’s robe was awake and aware before he was, and catapulted him sideways as the silver-coated sword came crashing down from the sky and buried itself into the ground where Sylver was a moment ago. Sylver’s eyes were wide open and jumped all over the place as he simultaneously took in his surroundings and calmed his mind down.

Sylver’s left hand that was holding his dagger moved up towards his neck, and a shower of sparks exploded all over him as the silver star-shaped weapon shattered against Sylver’s mana enhanced dagger. Sylver’s head twitched the left as an identical star-shaped weapon passed between the tip of Sylver’s ear and his head, sending a few short silvery strands of hair flying away.

Sylver tried to use his right arm to grab his other dagger, but he couldn’t so much as get it to twitch, let alone hold and use a weapon. The wound on his right shoulder burned with such intensity that Sylver felt tears well in his eyes. He almost sobbed from the indescribable pain as he stood up from the floor and saw his opponents.

One was a tall man, taller than even Novva was, and possibly as wide as him. The oversized sword he held in his left hand seemed oddly rightly sized in his thick as rope fingers. Other than shoulder pads and a circular shield over his heart, held in place by thick leather straps, the man didn’t wear any other armor. His previously brown shorts now had a large splotch of bright red on the front of them, as did the rest of the people near him.

[Human (Warrior+Warrior+Barbarian+Berserker+Juggernaut) – 141]
[HP-13,092]
[MP-100]

[Elf/??? (Poisenour+Rogue+Archer+Assassin+Dagger Artist) – 137]
[HP-6,817]
[MP-1,611]

[Human/Elf (Cleric+Cleric+Cleric+Martial Artist+Soldier) – 120]
[HP-20,493]
[MP-N/A]

The level 141 man shrugged his boulder-sized shoulders and caused both of them to make a crunching sound so loud that Sylver felt it in the pit of his stomach. The level 137 woman standing right next to him stood perfectly still, staring right at Sylver with the concentration of a cat about to pounce on its prey. The level 120 cleric looked so relaxed in his white blood-stained robe that Sylver put him at the top of his list.

“Normally we take pride in what we do and do things in a way we would be willing to brag about. But for scum like you we’ve all agreed to make an exception,” the juggernaut said with the sword that was as long as Sylver was tall pointed directly at him.

If not for the indestructible rib cage, Sylver would have been in two pieces right now. He briefly felt Lorn moving around behind him, but took his advice and ignored him.

Sylver shrugged his right shoulder and forced his robe to pull the cleaved flesh back together, as he used a very quick burst of darkness to glue it into place. Sylver felt his heart beating in his ears as he made eye contact with each person in turn.

His mask of neutrality slowly slipped into a slight smirk as he saw the traces of recently healed damage all over the three exhausted attackers.

“I would normally offer to talk things out, but I doubt that that’s an option after you saw your lifelong friends get turned into mincemeat. We’re not that far away from where I shoved bombs up their assholes, maybe I’ll go see if there’s enough mince for me to make some-” Sylver doubted anyone was interested in what he had to say anyway, as the level 141 juggernauts skin turned bright red and a wave of steam sent the leaves on the floor flying all over the place.

Sylver got ready to jump away, but felt the edge of his mana react, and crouched down instead. He heard the sound of wood shattering as all the trees directly behind and above him splintered into shards as arrows destroyed them. The gigantic silver sword was about to harmlessly pass over Sylver when the juggernaut punched the moving blade with his other hand and caused it to bounce down.

The giant piece of metal burned every single piece of skin that it touched as it hammered Sylver into the loose dirt. Sylver grabbed a rock from the ground and used both hands to hit it as hard as he could at the sword pressing down onto him, but was only pressed down further into the ground as he lost his footing. Sylver gave one final push, screaming like a banshee the whole time before the ground beneath his feet disappeared and he was swallowed up beneath it.

He exhausted every drop of mana he had as he dug as deep as he could, and felt his magic bounce off the barrier directly beneath him. Sylver didn’t waste a second as he forced the hard dirt directly in front of him to compress itself to give him room to walk but immediately gave up on that idea as he saw the barrier curve slightly upwards beneath him.

“-wherever you are! I’ve got acids, drugs, chemicals, and a small curved knife for a matching small piece of you!” A woman’s shrill voice screamed, as Sylver placed his left hand over his right shoulder and pressed down onto it.

“They locked you in, it’s a giant sphere. The cleric is outside, it’s only you and the juggernaut and rogue in here,” A voice said that Sylver just barely managed to comprehend in his pain-addled mind. He looked sideways to see something akin to a calm acceptance on the see-through face floating an inch or two away from his own.

Sylver’s voice caught in his throat as the burn-like wounds on his back refused to heal or lessen, even going as far to as push away his darkness. Sylver stood in complete and total darkness as he used a razor-sharp garrote to slice the affected piece of skin off his back, the way someone would scrub the hard-to-reach spot on their back with a washcloth.

The pain was incomparable as Sylver’s spine made contact with air, along with the rest of the muscles his skin normally kept away from harm. Sylver’s darkness weaved around his torso and back, as he tried to gather enough to make his right arm functional.

*

*

*

Lamb paced around the inside of the barrier as his skin peeled away and grew back darker and redder with each passing second. Kap continued to lay on the ground with her ear pressed against it and her eyes shook with every attempt to blink as her body continued to try to fight against all the drugs tearing through her system.

Lamb’s throat was raw and filled with bile as he forced the contents of his empty stomach back down, and he constantly kept one eye glued onto his status, counting down the milliseconds until the perk that stopped him from being torn into pieces stopped protecting him.

Kap made a gesture towards Lamb, and Lamb immediately activated all three of his tracking skills but didn’t get so much as a twitch from them. The boosts to his senses would have to be enough, but he couldn’t be sure with this… this thing they were fighting.

Tears welled up in Lamb’s eyes as he looked at Kap’s shivering and foaming at the mouth form, as he stood perfectly still and waited for the smallest of hints as to what was to come. Thet wouldn’t have fallen for something simple, he was the youngest of the group, and the most devious. He was going to marry Gamm and then-

“HE’S LAUGHING!” Kap screeched. Lamb’s head snapped towards her as her unnaturally high-pitched voice felt like a dagger against his ears.

Lamb barely registered what he was doing as his sword arced through the surrounding area and created clouds of pitch-black smoke with each black and yellow creature that he killed. Kap stood directly behind him, his sweaty and bleeding red back touching her sticky with sweat and blood leather armor. Lamb saw Zet saying something as his arms shook with the effort of holding the barrier in place. Knowing that thing it was beating against it or trying to find a weak spot to exploit.

Lamb had faced countless opponents in his long life, countless monsters, countless creatures of the night, but never had he looked at something and felt such unrelenting disgust. Its eyes were darker than a demon’s, but somehow that wasn’t even the worst part.

Lamb had been around long enough to know his place in the food chain, but that thing didn’t fit anywhere, it was an outsider, it didn’t belong. Lamb cackled for a few seconds as his silver-coated sword continued to shred the black things popping up around them to pieces, with Kap handling the few that Lamb hadn’t managed to get on his first spin.

He was using a perk he had sworn never to use again, all because he was so frightened of a mere level 76 mage.

It isn’t even about revenge, Lamb thought as his mind reached the apex of what it could handle and changed from unrelenting rage into an incomparable calmness. Lamb watched as he moved his sword with the practiced ease of a painter moving his brush, and cut down through each and every black creature that appeared in his sword’s path.

It isn’t even about our reputation, Lamb thought as for a split second he saw a wolf appear amidst the countless smoke-like bodies. So many of them looked identical to the ones next to them, that Lamb had lost track before he had even attempted to count them. But he knew whatever piece of his mind that wasn’t filled with burst capillaries that that thing had to run out of decoys at some point.

That thing can’t be left to run around and grow, Lamb thought as every single sin he had ever committed flashed in front of his eyes and he knew in his heart that as long as this thing was dead it would all be worth it. He barely saw anything with all the smoke in the air, but Lamb’s sense’s told him where to cut.

He felt Kap lose her footing behind him and very nearly stepped onto her foot as a result. Kap was small, frail, half the money she earned she had to give away to those healing sect vultures just to stay alive. Lamb directed a small stream of steam to concentrate behind him and pushed Kap to turn along with him but got distracted as he did his best to read Zet’s lips through the giant moving clouds of darkness all around them.

It was only thanks to his senses being heightened to their limits did Lamb see Zet’s eyes glued to the top of the barrier. Lamb glanced up for a split second, before looking back down at the creatures spawning all around him and running towards him from the edges of the barrier, as he continued to force Kap to turn with him.

A small grey sphere landed near the edge of the barrier, and Lamb heard an identical sound behind and on his left. The sound of his heart tearing itself to pieces clogged his ears and prevented him from hearing whatever Kap was trying to say. Lamb looked up as felt more than heard, the sound of someone laughing, and he saw that thing standing in midair and throwing grey balls all around them.

The thing locked eyes with Lamb, and whatever plan they might have had went right out the window, as Lamb was thrown into the air by a giant explosion of steam. Every single muscle, bone, and cell in Lamb’s body hurt with the effort, as he spun his sword once, twice, and three times, gaining momentum and power with every passing millisecond.

The thing’s shoulder’s loosened as it leaned forward and seemed to jump off the air, moving towards Lamb. It had a dagger in each hand, and Lamb could only hope he was stronger than it was.

Lamb laughed like a madman as the thing’s daggers just short of disappeared from its hands, as Lamb’s sword passed underneath its arm and was going to cut it directly in half. The joint’s in Lamb’s arms locked up as he, for a moment felt, like he had just had his sword parried before he could only watch as the thing bounced away from him, hit the top of the barrier so hard that blood exploded out of its mouth, and then bounced back down.

Lamb wanted to scream with victory as his eye’s followed the thing’s trajectory, as it fell back down to the ground and disappeared into it. Lamb looked Kip right in the eye as everything went white.

*

*

*

[Elf/??? (Poisenour+Rogue+Archer+Assassin+Dagger Artist) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 60 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

Sylver’s feet burned from touching the barrier, right up until the point it wavered and disappeared. Sylver grabbed the hanging chunk of flesh and unceremoniously ripped it off his body, and let it fall to the ground. What little remained of his robe wrapped itself around his torso and did what it could to stop the bleeding.

After getting confirmation from Spring, Sylver dug his way through the sand like dirt, careful not to let it touch him for fear of being scarred by the bright red pebbles that were just short of melting. Sylver made sure not to breathe as he felt the dry air find an opening in his robe and scorch his many many open wounds.

He half limped, half crawled towards the weak source of steam laying in what would have been the corner of the barrier, and stabbed the oversized juggernaut through the heart. Which was surprisingly easy, considering most of his flesh had melted away, and he was little more than a pile of deep-fried meat trapped inside a scorched white rib cage.

[Human (Warrior+Warrior+Barbarian+Berserker+Juggernaut) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 60 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

[Necromancer] has reached level 72!
+5AP

Sylver slumped on top of the giant’s body as he grew new skin over his back, side, and worked on fixing the damage inside of his shoulder and right arm. He had carved out all the leftover silver, but he could feel some of it had gone into the bone. Silver weapons were made that way specifically, so every single scratch was as bad as an infection.

Sylver lost his footing at the man’s bones turned too frail to support Sylver’s weight, and he fell face-first into a liquid that was once the man’s heart and lungs. Spring pulled him upright and helped Sylver walk over to the laying on his back priest.

Sylver spun his right arm around and flinched at the pain, as he looked down at the shaking in fear priest. He continued to spin his arm around for a few seconds and took his time crouching down to make sure his face was as close to the now possibly blind priest’s face.

“I’m going to ask this only once. Who sent you, and what do you want? Otherwise, I’m going to shove this dart up through your nose and pierce your brain. You’ll stop being able to move, but you’ll still feel everything. You’ll lay here motionless while rats slowly nibble at every nook and cranny they can get into up until you either die of dehydration or something big comes around to tear your throat open. But with the damage and noise of the explosion, I dare say you could be here for days, weeks even!” Sylver said, practically whispering the words into the barely alive man’s ear.

The man’s lips moved, but no sound came out.

“Come on big boy, I just need a name,” Sylver encouraged, his ear a mere inch away from what would have once been called lips, but now looked like two burnt sausages.

“Faun? Did you say Faun?” Sylver asked, with his hand on the man’s face. He felt the muscles that would have let him nod react, and felt the confirmation in his soul.

“Alright, thank you. Not that it changes anything, but you three did incredibly well. If we thought a week prior, I would have been dead. On three,” Sylver said, as a dagger appeared in his head and he angled the tip over the priest’s heart. Using [Draining Touch] would be pointless, the man had too much positive energy for Sylver to do anything.

“One,” Sylver said, as he plunged the dagger deep into the man’s heart and twisted it, catching him mercifully unprepared.

[Human/Elf (Cleric+Cleric+Cleric+Martial Artist+Soldier) Defeated!]
[Due to defeating an enemy 40 levels above you, additional experience will be awarded!]

“Two, three,” Sylver finished, as he let go of the dagger and Spring helped him sit down.

Sylver sat in silence for five minutes, breathing in and out as he moved the excess HP around his body to heal up what he could. His right arm was mostly fine, but hurt to move around. Everything else was mostly back to normal, or at least tolerable until he found something else to kill and drain.

Sylver finally looked to his side and saw a wide-eyed see-through face staring at him.

“Who the fuck are you?” Lorn asked.

“Sylver Sezari. Necromancer and adventurer extraordinaire. How am I doing for points?” Sylver asked.