She stored the map in her Abyssal Chamber. A hundred skeletons stood before her, their hollow eyes gleaming with unnatural light. Alistair’s shadow servants, numbering over thirty, their dark forms shifting restlessly as they awaited her command.
The skeletal horde, surging forward in a chaotic charge. An arrow whistled through the air, aimed directly at her head, but she elegantly dodged it. With a flick of her hand, she dispatched her shadow servants, allocating exactly 30 mana to each.
Thirty mana should be enough, she thought.
Even though I can recover mana when they're destroyed, I won't regain the full amount—some of it fuels their movement and abilities. This will be a good test of their capabilities.
Activating 《Shadowmeld》, she melted into the darkness, her form blending seamlessly with the shadows as she positioned herself on the ceiling. From this elevated vantage point, the battlefield sprawled out below her, a chaotic sea of clattering bones and swirling shadows.
These skeletons shouldn't be much trouble, she thought, recalling how the first one crumbled with just a single kick of pure physical force.
As she surveyed the scene, she noticed something else—her extended vision now covered a wider area than before.
It’s grown…? I haven’t used my skills since ranking up, so I didn’t notice until now. If that’s the case, my other abilities must have improved as well.
Below, the skeletons clashed with her shadow servants. Alistair’s sharp eyes tracked their movements, analyzing every strike and counter. The skeletons fought with wild, erratic swings, devoid of strategy or coordination.
The difference in power was stark. The first row of skeletons shattered instantly, their brittle forms no match for the shadows’ razor-sharp strikes. The shadow servants moved in perfect unison, their inky claws slicing through bone with terrifying precision. Even the armored skeletons crumbled under a single blow.
From the rear, skeletal archers loosed volleys of arrows. The shadows, however, were too fast—darting and weaving through the hail of projectiles with ease. A few were struck, but the damage was minimal, not enough to destroy them. Alistair observed, her gaze narrowing.
No tactics, no coordination. But the mages… they’ve been quiet. Too quiet.
Her attention shifted to the skeleton mages standing at the back, their wands tipped with glowing orbs—red, blue, and green. The orbs pulsed with growing intensity, signaling the buildup of energy. Two of the mages raised their wands, the red orbs blazing to life.
A crimson pentagram materialized in the air, its runes swirling ominously before a searing fireball erupted toward the shadow army. Beside them, a green pentagram formed, unleashing a howling gust of wind that tore through the battlefield.
Alistair reacted instantly, commanding her shadows to retreat into the darkness. Most obeyed, slipping away like wisps of smoke, but a few were too slow, caught in the fiery explosion and the howling gale. The blasts also struck some of the skeletons, scattering their bones across the ground. She felt a faint trickle of mana return to her as the shadows dissipated.
She swiftly reformed the shadows in scattered positions, ensuring they wouldn’t be easy targets again.
This isn't as easy as I thought. Fire and wind… the red orbs control fire, and the green ones control wind. That must mean the blue orbs correspond to water.
I need to take out the mages first—my shadows won’t withstand repeated attacks. If needed I can summon them again.
As she strategized, three of the mages suddenly collapsed, their bones crumbling to the ground without warning. Alistair’s eyes narrowed.
What just happened…?
A realization struck her. Without hesitation, she emerged from the shadows beside a mage, her hand plunging through its ribcage. She felt a faint pulse of mana within its brittle frame, confirming her suspicion. She continued to dismantle nearby skeletons, her movements swift and precise, her mind racing.
So that’s how it is… They store mana within their cores, just like my shadows. That’s why the mages fall apart after casting spells—they deplete their reserves.
The mages possess 50 mana, while the others hold about twenty units. The summoner must be incredibly powerful. But where are they?
Her body moved before the thought fully formed. Her shadows surged through the skeletal ranks—relentless and untouchable—tearing them apart with brutal efficiency. The battlefield became a chaotic blur: shadows darting through the horde, rending bone and armor alike, while Alistair systematically eliminated the remaining mages. Her eyes darted across the battlefield, searching for any sign of the summoner.
Where are you?
In a matter of moments, the battle was over.
Silence fell, broken only by the occasional clatter of stray bones hitting the ground. Alistair scanned the battlefield, her sharp eyes searching for any trace of the summoner, but the summoner was nowhere to be seen.
I just can't find them… What if the summoner never actually existed in the first place? What If the dungeon itself supplied their mana, that would explain their lack of coordination.
It sounds possible, but I’m not familiar with dungeons, so I can’t be certain.
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Alistair released her shadow servants, and with their forms dissipating—excluding First—she felt her mana returning to her once more. She walked toward a fallen skeleton mage and took its wand, inspecting the blue orb atop it. Recalling how it had shot a water spell toward her, she considered experimenting with it.
It took 50 mana for the mages to use it and all the mages have the same spell but different elements. What if I poured my mana more than 50 mana?
Would it enhance the spell—or something else entirely?
Without hesitation, she raised her free hand, channeling a stream of energy into the orb. The glow intensified, pulsing rapidly as the magic built within.
It’s not going to explode... right?
A sudden, violent burst shattered the orb, sending shards flying in every direction. The force of the explosion knocked Alistair off balance, and she hit the cold stone floor with a sharp thud. She sat there for a moment, expression blank, before letting out a slow exhale.
"Well… At least now I know."
Gathering herself, she collected the remaining orbs from the fallen mages and stored them within her 《abyssal chamber》. She then paused to check her status. A frown crossed her face when she noticed that her mana was nearly depleted once more.
My mana… Damn it, not again!
Her gaze swept over the battlefield, now littered with nothing but shattered bones and rusted weapons—none of which could aid her recovery.
Ugh. I shouldn’t have fought those skeletons. It wasted my time, stamina, and mana. I can't even replenish them without blood.
I’d rather not use a potion unless it’s absolutely necessary. It's limited, afterall. I’ll have to let it restore naturally.
Her eyes fell on the towering form of First Shadow.
It seems I’ll have to rely on you again.
She raised her hands, instructing First to lift her. He complied, hoisting her onto his shoulder. She rewarded him with a gentle pat on the head.
Ah… I forgot about the note.
Retrieving the map from the abyssal chamber, she unfurled it and scanned the message once more.
——
"Oh, brave warriors! Do not be swayed by the closing door. It shall unlock for the one who obtains the artifact, but be warned: the path is treacherous, and the undead legions that guard it will not yield without a fight. Yet, for those who dare to confront the formidable skeletons, the reward will be worth the risk. May fortune favor your courage!”
——
“Formidable skeletons? Don’t make me laugh.” She scoffed, folding the map with a flick of her wrist.
They fell apart with a single hit. I can easily defeat them by using shadowmeld and letting them exhaust their mana.
She sighed, resting her elbow on First's head as she contemplated her next move.
Three keys. Three groups. I wonder if Greg is acquainted with them...
With that thought lingering, she motioned for First to move forward. She had no intention of wasting any more time.
⊶☽☬☾⊷
The grand hallway stretched endlessly, its towering stone walls illuminated by the flickering glow of torches. The air was thick with the metallic tang of blood and the acrid stench of burnt flesh. Scattered across the cracked marble floor were the fallen—soldiers groaning in pain, their armor dented and scorched, and the skeletal remains of their enemies, shattered into brittle fragments.
Amid the aftermath, Jasper and Aenon sat across from each other, their backs resting against crumbling pillars. Jasper’s sword rested lazily on his shoulder, while Aenon brushed dust from his cloak with a resigned sigh.
"It seems I’ve lost again. As expected from Sir Jasper."
"Haha! Aenon, don’t forget—you owe me 200 gold now. I’ll be collecting that after we’re done here." Jasper’s laughter echoed through the hall, light and carefree, as if they were sharing a drink at a tavern rather than standing in a dungeon teeming with danger.
"Sir Jasper, this isn’t the time for games!" Lia’s sharp voice cut through the air like a whip.
She stepped forward, her boots crunching over shards of bone, her face flushed with anger.
"What were you thinking, bringing only E-ranked soldiers into a dungeon like this? This isn’t a training exercise!”
Ah, I’m yelling at him again, Lia thought, feeling her cheeks burn.
But it can’t be helped. He’s too carefree. Still, he doesn’t seem to mind, and with Theo absent, at least I won’t get cut up for misspeaking...
Jasper leaned back, his carefree demeanor untouched by her outburst.
"Miss Lia, you’re too serious. You need to relax a little. On a scale of one to ten, the danger here is a solid four. And look—everyone’s still alive, aren’t they? That’s what matters."
"Miss Lia, with all due respect, you’re being shortsighted.” Aenon interjected, his voice calm but firm.
“These soldiers and I exist to protect Sir Jasper. The reason Sir Jasper didn’t assist us is that he needs to conserve his strength for the dungeon boss."
"That’s why you’re shortsighted; misjudging his capabilities would be a grave error—after all, he’s the one with the greatest potential to achieve S-rank."
Jasper scratched the back of his head, a bashful grin spreading across his face.
"Haha, you’re praising me a bit too much."
Wait... why does that actually make sense? Am I being shortsighted? No! No matter how strong he is, sleeping while we fight for our lives is inexcusable!
This is why I hate nobles—their sweet tongues can make people believe anything they say.
Taking a deep breath, she locked eyes with Jasper.
"Sir Jasper, if I may ask... why are you so convinced there’s a valuable artifact here? Even though I’m the one who gave you the map, I find it hard to believe. It all seems... too suspicious."
"Well, that’s obvious. It’s because Lady Alesia said so." Jasper’s grin widened, his eyes glinting with mischief.
"Y-You met Her Majesty?" Lia’s voice faltered in disbelief, her eyes widening.
"Met’ might be an overstatement. My father was the one who spoke to the queen. She told him, ‘A new dungeon will appear after a hundred years, and within it lies a powerful artifact. I’m sure your handsome, smart, genius son will be the one to obtain it."
Like hell she would say that! But… other than the end, it might be true. Ugh, this is getting more complicated.
"But Sir Jasper, your opponents are Greg the newbie killer and his brother Graige—the tyrant captain of the Wolf Fangs. They’re veterans with decades of experience. Even if it’s you, I don’t think—"
"Miss Lia," Aenon interrupted, his tone firm, "you underestimate Sir Jasper far too much. Even if there were ten C-ranks against him, he’d still come out on top. Isn’t that right, Sir Jasper?"
Upon hearing this, Jasper let out a sheepish laugh, a bit flustered by the attention.
Lia sighed in reluctant acceptance.
Tsk, this damn lapdog never misses a chance to praise him. I just hope he’s actually at least as strong as they are.
If not, all my efforts to bring everyone here to kill each other will have been for nothing…