With the undead horde fast approaching, Hunter beckoned Mercos and Lyra closer. "We have to band together if we're going to avoid becoming monster chow. We're outnumbered, and if we waste time arguing, we’re done for.”

Lyra’s lips pressed into a line, betraying a smirk. “Alright, who’s playing king of the hill?” She jabbed a thumb at her chest. “Here’s a big hint. Picking me would be like trusting a cat to guard a goldfish.”

Mercos chuckled, his laugh booming like a cannon. “Quick decision, folks. Ghouls and skellies aren’t known for taking leisurely strolls.”

Closing in, Hunter could make out the wretched forms—a moving gallery of death. Skellies outnumbered ghouls four to one, but these ghouls were meaner than a cornered rat—quick and cunning as low-level demons. Their gray, leathery skin hung in tatters, but unlike skellies, they were all natural—no need for swords or shields when your hands are living blades.

The skellies, true to their name, were as bone-white as a ghost's underpants, stripped of any rotting flesh. Hunter glanced at his dagger, then switched it for his more practical knife-broom. With the sheer number of undead they faced, it was smarter to use a weapon that increased his range not being a powerful melee fighter like Mercos.

The moaning intensified to the roar of rushing water before cutting off to leave them in a horrible silence that pulsed in Hunter’s ears. It was clear they were waiting for Hunter and his companions to make the first move.

Monty screeched, his wings beating the air like he was trying to start a one-bird hurricane.

“Easy, Monty.” Mercos' gruff voice calmed the parrot on his shoulder.

Hunter's grip on his weapon tightened. “These skellies could give Jason and his Argonauts a run for their coin.”

Lyra's eyes narrowed. “But these are summoned by necro mages and death cultists. Bad news all around.”

Hunter followed her gaze, spotting the writhing blackness inside their skeletal forms. He gulped.

Dark plasma.

Both Mercos and Lyra were at least Founder stage cultivators if not beyond that, but even their chi-based attacks would do little damage against Dark plasma fueled monsters. And Hunter? His most powerful Dust Storm Whip would be about as effective as farting on a forest fire.

Hunter eyed Mercos, reaching over to give Monty's feathers a ruffle. “You don’t need to answer, but I’ve guessed you two are at least high-level Founders, if not Core Former cultivators. I'm a Third Star Refiner; I can take one, maybe two, up close, but I'm more suited to ranged attack. I can slow down the horde of faster-moving ghouls and skellies. If you two can hit them mid-range with more powerful chi attacks,” he gestured to the dragon hammer, “and Mercos, you can smash those skellies to pieces.”

From what he’d seen of Lyra, in terms of power, she looked and moved like his uncle, meaning she was at least at the Core Former stage. He gave her a knowing look.

“Lyra, you're a dark horse. I bet you’ve got a few tricks up your sleeve. Can you take on the ghouls?”

With a grin sharp enough to cut glass, she flourished her rapier. “Well, you know me in such a short time… I’ve got more tricks than a con artist.” She stepped back, her eyes turning a fiery glow as her rapier burst into flames.

A flicker of awe crossed Mercos' stern gaze before he scowled once more. “Try not to torch yourself.”

“Don’t worry about me, love.” Her brow furrowed as she closed her eyes. They snapped open as her aura flared in an orange glow, her face growing paler and smooth like alabaster. “Worry about your own skin. Stone skin’s protecting mine.”

Hunter's jaw hit the floor. Dual affinity—Fire and Earth.

Then, silence fell like a heavy curtain, eerie and unnatural.

Lyra gave Mercos a nudge, exchanging a look with Hunter. Silent agreement crackled in the air.

“You’re calling the shots, beast boy.” Lyra readied her flaming sword.

Hunter grinned. For now. “Monty, eyes in the sky.”

With a simple nod, the bird took to the air and hovered.

The undead horde stood still, their empty sockets tracking Monty’s flight.

Hunter did a quick tally—twelve skellies and three nasty-looking ghouls.

He glanced at Buckie. “Sit this one out, buddy.”

The rooster stared up at him with unblinking eyes.

“Stay behind us, okay?”

Purple sigils flared to life on the foreheads of the undead—a sign of their control by a powerful necro mage.

Buckie flapped his wings, taking a wistful look at Monty, and with a mournful caw, ran back behind the stone pillar at the side of the chamber.

Hunter raised his fist. “On my mark…”

A guttural roar shattered the silence. The horde charged, sending Lyra and Mercos into action.

Hunter's chi-sharpened senses struggled to keep up with the speed of their attack. He reacted with quick movements, his energy surging through his limbs as he activated Dust Storm Whip.

Instead of targeting the front line, he sent it out to the left to avoid hitting Lyra and Mercos. Despite the amount of chi powering the attack, it wasn’t as effective at drawing earthen material from a chamber encased in stone.

Even so, his attack slowed down a few skellies, while the rest swarmed Mercos, drawn to his dragon hammer, like flies to a carcass.

Mercos' dark eyes lit like burning coals, his thick, soot-stained hands wrapped tight as he swung the hammer, the dragon’s maw a furnace promising doom.

Hunter gritted his teeth, biting back his frustration. So much for leading the group into battle. He stole a glance at Lyra as the air began to reek of charred flesh.

Her flaming rapier whirled around her like a whip sword, pushing back the trio of ghouls. With the deadly grace of a panther, she assumed her stance; her rapier, a blazing extension of her fury, flickered with hungry flames.

She lunged forward, a blur of motion and fire.

The rapier lashed at the first ghoul, the flames greedily devouring its rotten flesh.

A guttural moan dragged his attention back to the skellies he’d stunned with his Dust Storm Whip. He sighed with dismay; his ranged attack had slowed them down but had left no mark like it had on the Rampage Rabbits. The Dark plasma writhing inside them must have been the cause.

He would physically have to rend their bones apart if he had any hope of destroying them.

Mercos' roar echoed in the chamber as bones went flying. He smashed through the first of his attackers, catching the attention of the only skelly without a shield. It was bigger than the rest and had its spear leveled at Hunter.

In an instant, the skelly’s sigil pulsed brighter as it changed direction, charging at Mercos instead.

That left three skellies stalking towards Hunter with swords and shields at the ready

The center one raised a skeletal arm and pointed his sword at Hunter. It had the look of a Thracian sword, like the one Hunter looted from Reggie, one of Vassilus’ mercenaries. The edge of its blade barely visible in the dim purple glow of the chamber.

“Identify.”

Uncommon item: Thracian sword. This curvy little number might look like it was designed by someone who couldn't decide between a sword and a sickle, but don’t let its odd shape fool you. It’s as sharp as Eunice’s tongue and twice as deadly.

Why mention Eunice?

Hunter scratched his jaw, then realized the connection.

The sword might as well have ‘If found please return to Vassilus’ stamped across it.

The skelly inclined its head, hollow eyes like abyssal pits of sorrow stared at Hunter. “Surrender, fleshy meat sac. Bow down, take the knee, and you will be shown swift mercy.” The skelly's rasping voice sent chills through Hunter. Last time he checked, skeletons had no vocal cords. He shuddered even more; the necro mage must be speaking through the mindless undead creature.

“I bend the knee to no one.” Hunter activated Divine Durability to strengthen his knife-broom, readying for an attack. Now that he was a Third Star Refiner, his chi pool had grown, allowing him to maintain his skill for twice as long as before. He could also combine it with Wind Fall to speed up his movements, giving him a slim chance of defeating at least one of these skellies.

If all three attacked at once, he was doomed.

When that happened, his whole life flashed before his eyes.

A fiery glow came from his right as Lyra's whip sword caught the skelly on the outside. At the same time, Monty swooped in and shat on the skelly on the far side of the chamber. Steam rising from Monty’s droppings, the winged beast ducked and dived dangerously close to the skelly's sword but managed to stay out of reach. The undead creature, drawn by Monty’s movements, lunged away from Hunter chasing Monty.

Thrusting upward, the skelly barely missed the brave bird, who responded with another aerial dump that splattered across its bones.

With a sudden surge of courage, the center skelly pointed its sword at Hunter and lunged with a quick strike. Hunter dodged, feeling the blade whisk past his ribs as he hit the ground hard. His grunt echoed in the chamber, and he bit back a curse while springing to his feet, pain in his ribs reminding him of the fall.

Hunter kept his eyes on the skelly's sword darting towards him once more. The blade slashed up and down, forcing Hunter to dodge again. Finding his feet, Hunter parried the third attack with the tip of his knife-broom. His weapon screamed through the air, aiming at the skelly's bony throat. It rebounded off the bone, sparks clashing in the dim chamber.

He countered, ramming the skelly with his shoulder and grimaced at the sensation of crashing into a boulder. The skelly stayed upright, but the chi-empowered force of Hunter’s physical attack caused it to stumble a few paces back.

This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.

A hollow drumming noise drew the skelly's hollow gaze down.

"Damn it, Buckie, no!"

Recalling his showdown in the Refiner Gate, Hunter leapt, fusing Wind Fall and Divine Durability into one fluid motion. His weapon, the mithril knife, voraciously absorbed chi as he thrust it into the skelly's eye socket, pinning the cursed thing against the wall. Buckie scampered to safety, narrowly evading another skelly drenched in Monty’s steaming shit.

"Tell that necro mage fuckwit we're coming for him!" Lyra’s voice echoed as she finally dispatched the first of the three ghouls surrounding her. Fury from her flaming sword turned the creature's aggression into a fiery spectacle. It stumbled back, disoriented, its mindless eyes reflecting its fiery doom as it fell to the ground, dissipating into a black fog.

Lyra didn’t let up, spinning her weapon, a whirlwind of fire and wrath ready to consume the next ghoul that dared attack her. She unleashed vengeance with a blaze that would’ve made Hades envious.

Mercos launched a barrage of fiery chi balls, painting the chamber in shades of orange and red. His attacks held back the onslaught of skellies. He singled one out and smashed the undead creature upside its skull, relieving it of its bony shoulders. Dark plasma spurted up like an oil fountain, blackening the ground before vanishing like mist burned by the sun.

Hunter’s eyes went wide. Mercos was definitely more powerful than he suspected; if he wasn’t a Core Former like Lyra, he wasn’t far off.

Their momentary sense of triumph vanished as a spear-wielding skelly blindsided Mercos.

Hunter's warning cry was drowned out by the din of battle. Mercos reacted too late, his bulky form surrounded and swallowed by the undead.

The bony pile clinked as they smothered the big man's form. For a heartbeat, Hunter couldn’t breathe. He raced towards the pileup only to skid to a halt to avoid the skellies flying into the air as Mercos erupted like a volcano.

The biggest skelly was the quickest to recover, grabbing its spear, it locked eyes with Hunter while the remaining skellies scrambled to find their feet. Mercos growled, making the chamber quake with his frustration.

Hunter stepped back, keeping the spear-wielding skelly in his awareness while a quick dart of his gaze toward Mercos confirmed his worst fears. A sword protruded from the intersection of Mercos’ lower neck and shoulder.

Hunter’s heart raced as he split his attention between the spear-wielding skelly and Mercos. "You’ve been stabbed!"

"That’s nothing, just a graze." Mercos grunted as he yanked the sword free. Dual-wielding the sword and dragon hammer, Mercos hacked and slashed at the remaining skellies. Their bones flew against the chamber wall, shattering to pieces.

Blood spurted from his neck in crimson ribbons. He promptly placed a glowing hand and seared the wound closed, launching into another attack.

The spear-wielding skelly charged Hunter, its twisted smile revealing pointed fangs. Larger built and more solid than the other skellies, the creature leapt and thrust its spear at Hunter’s face.

Hunter turned the spear point and countered by smacking the skelly in its bony face with the butt of his knife-broom. The bristles, reforged by Divine Durability, made the blow land hard. A splintering crack indicated he’d shattered its cheekbone; its jaw hung loose in a deranged grimace.

Growling, it darted to one side and, with the speed and ferocity of a viper, flicked its spear tip at him in a raging blur.

Hunter parried and sidestepped the attack. The creature might’ve finished him off if he hadn’t sped up his evasive movements using the Wind Fall technique. Before attacking again, Hunter studied the larger skelly's movements, searching for an opening.

There it was.

As the skelly sidestepped, Hunter noticed a slight limp, one leg shorter than the other.

Activating Divine Durability once more, Hunter executed a heavy downward slash, forcing the skelly to hold up its spear to deflect the attack. When it did, Hunter feinted a follow-up thrust towards its face. The skelly spun its spear to deflect his second move, but Hunter yanked his weapon back before it clashed with his own.

Taking the creature off balance, it favored its right side, leaving the large skelly vulnerable.

Hunter darted in close using Wind Fall and skewered the undead through its inky black eye socket. The skelly reacted without hesitation, whipping its skeletal hand to block the deadly attack, but Hunter's Wind chi-enhanced speed was too great. He twisted the mithril blade further into the swirling Dark plasma void of its eye socket.

Raising the shaft of his knife-broom in a sweeping motion, Hunter lunged forward and smashed the skelly into the chamber wall.

A sound like an egg cracking open echoed.

The force of the impact caved the skelly's skull on one side. The glowing sigil on its forehead dimmed, signaling its imminent demise. Dark plasma leaked like black tears from its shattered eye socket.

Hunter withdrew his weapon in another sweeping motion, and the skelly dropped its spear. The purple glow of the sigil guttered and died out, but the creature’s weeping eyes continued to ooze with malice.

It didn’t know it was dead.

Instead of crumpling into a heap of bones, the large skelly stepped forward, skeletal hands clawing for Hunter. These wretched undead creatures felt no pain, only the pure, mindless rage instilled by their master. The hunger for human flesh drove them onwards.

Hunter raised his weapon, ready to strike, but on the next step, the skelly's Dark plasma fled its skeletal form like a specter, leaving what remained of the skelly to fall apart, forming a pile of bones at Hunter’s feet.

Hunter gasped, reeling back at the near miss and looked around the chamber.

Buckie darted between the legs of the living and the dead, almost faster than Hunter could track with his chi-enhanced senses.

Hunter smiled with relief.

Monty squawked above Mercos while the dragon hammer obliterated the last skelly.

With her skin like marble, Lyra faced off against the final ghoul, its sharp black talons clawed for her throat. Her skin glistened as the claws found no purchase. Yet, strain appeared across her face, the use of chi-heavy Stone Skin armor taking its toll.

Before Hunter or Mercos could come to her aid, she spun, unleashing a fiery whip that seemed to pierce the veil between life and death, until the last ghoul was nothing but an ash pile on the ground.

As the flames died down from her weapon, turning back into an unassuming rapier sword, she looked down at the charred remains. Her expression was a hard-to-read mixture of satisfaction and a relentless drive to face whatever hellish challenge came next.

Monty let out a warning screech.

Hunter whipped around and looked down the long, vast halls of the chamber.

His heart sank.

More ghouls and skellies appeared in the distance.

Exhaustion colored all of their expressions, but Lyra and Mercos straightened as if ready to bring the fight to the fresh wave of the undead.

Hunter threw an arm out to hold them back. "Hold up, take a breath. My Dust Storm Whip will slow them down. Mercos, you light them up, and then hammer them. Lyra, we clean up the leftovers."

Lyra and Mercos exchanged knowing looks, a silent promise to wait for his signal this time.

He saluted Monty and Buckie. “Well done, but don’t take any unnecessary risks, okay?”

The two birds flapped their wings and warily eyed each other. Fixing their eyes on the group they puffed out their feathered chests and released a battle-ready chorus.

The air hummed as Lyra’s powerful aura charged the chamber. “Stop me if you’ve heard this one. A beast tamer, brawler, rogue, giant rooster and sneaky gray parrot walked into a chamber of death…”

Mercos inclined his head, his voice low and dangerous. “I’m no brawler.”

Lyra smirked. “Humor me, big man.”

Hunter glanced back at the long hall, the undead closing in fast. “What’s the punchline?”

The chamber grew brighter with a fiery orange glow. “Patience, love, I’ll tell ya when we reach the next level.”

Hunter loved her confidence. He flashed a grin to match it and raised his fist. “Let’s do this!”

With lower chi reserves, he activated Dust Storm Whip, hoping his plan would work. The chi flooded through his hands as he cast his attack at the first wave of creatures before they could reach the chamber’s opening.

The frontline froze midstep, his Dust Storm Whip stun proving effective as the following set of undead slammed into them, swords and spears poking through their rib cages.

Without hesitation, Mercos followed with a blast of fiery orbs, digging his legs in deep as he charged and swung his dragon hammer through the first two sets of interlocked skellies and ghouls.

Bones clattered and singed rotten flesh, the putrid smell enhanced, flung onto the hallway’s walls. He whistled, and Monty flew into the dim hall, leaving a trail of steaming shit on the creatures deeper inside the corridor.

Buckie darted in behind, causing whatever undead that remained mobile to stray away from the pack.

The heat from Lyra’s flaming sword whipped into action as she lunged at a ghoul hurtling toward her side of the hall. Hunter drove forward with his knife-broom, cracking the neck of a skelly before it raised its sword and shield in defense.

The hallway echoed with guttural moans and clicking bones.

Monty dived toward the undead, signaling to Mercos the optimal attack point. Mercos held back the onslaught with overwhelming strength and swift swings of his dragon hammer, while Lyra and Hunter moved in a steady rhythm, striking with precision at the few strays that managed to pass Mercos' threat.

Together in step, Hunter and Lyra, pushed forward as Mercos plunged through another set of undead creatures desecrated by Monty's steamy droppings. Skulls chattered in the air as bodiless remains flew over Hunter's head and bounced behind him with a clatter.

Lyra ducked, dragging Hunter with her. “Looks like Mercos and Monty just invented Shit-stained Skeletal Discus.”

Hunter grinned, keeping his eyes on the threat ahead. “Shame we don’t have a laurel wreath to give as a reward.”

With his divine durability activated, Hunter thrust his knife-broom as he closed in on a stray ghoul distracted by Buckie. With that opening, Lyra and Hunter combined their attacks, her flaming sword slashing through what remained of its insides. The combined attack ended what remained of the last standing ghoul.

Hunter nodded at Lyra as the flame faded from her rapier sword. Opening his spiritual senses wide he wasn’t surprised to find that chi was in short supply. Still he spun his core drawing in chi, pointing towards a set of stairs. He needed to gather as much chi from the meager supply as he could before they encountered the next set of minions. "Whatever’s on the next floor up won’t be any easier if the necro mage is pissed off."

The heavy thuds of Mercos’ boots on the stairs quickened as he joined Hunter’s side. “I’ll take anything that requires a good bashing. Monty, head on through the opening, tell me what you find.”

Lyra’s eyes narrowed as she fluffed Buckie’s feathered back. “You’re not too shabby at leading the way, love. Let’s conserve as much energy as we can in the next level. Don’t know about you, lot, but I want to give Aspa a good roasting when I see her.”

Steel vengeance in her eyes darkened the humorous lilt in her voice.

“Another plan then.” Hunter tilted his knife-broom away from the entrance as Monty squawked, landing on Mercos’ shoulder.

“You sure about that?” Mercos’ raised a brow. “Only one undead inside the next chamber.”

Hunter gave a sharp nod. “Let’s attack with quick consecutive attacks, and not let up until it’s really dead. Mercos, give it what it has coming.”

Monty grinned and nodded toward Monty. “Go on and give that undead it’s fair warning.”

Hunter leapt up the final steps of the stairwell, the sensation of chi restoring in his core. His jaw dropped at the sight that towered dead center, eyeing Monty’s flight path. “Stone the damn crows! I crossed a creature like this in the Trial of Worth.”

The flaming sword lit beside him. “The bigger they are, the harder they fall.”

“You’d think so, but trust me, that might not be the case with this bony bastard.” Hunter smirked as the bone golem creaked with a slow turn to face them. He gripped his knife-broom, readying for their attack. “Knock out a few of his bones, and he’ll reassemble…”

The bone golem leapt after Monty, who circled above, its lengthy skeletal arms outstretched grazed the ceiling.

“Same strategy, now, while Monty’s got him distracted.” With Hunter’s signal, Mercos plunged forward, knocking into the bone golems' thighs. Its skeletal form shook, but held taut as its head dropped, its eyes holding a menacing gaze.

In an instant, Buckie leapt to the side, darting between its bony feet as its arm swung down. Lyra stepped forward, lashing her flaming sword whip around its hand and spun around.

Taking the advantage, Hunter struck his mithril knife through the gaping link between outstretched arm bones. Mercos grunted as he heaved his hammer, a bone smashing thunk colliding into its knee. The bone golem collapsed to the side as half his lower limb tore apart.

They quick-stepped back as the remaining hand swiped through the air, grasping Monty’s tail. Hunter’s chest tightened as Monty cawed, struggling free, loose feathers fluttering above.

“Not my friend!” Mercos plowed into the remaining intact leg, shoulder lowered as he rammed with all the might Hunter’d seen yet.

The bone golem toppled back from the hit of a battering ram, its torso and skull banging against the chamber wall. Bones scattered across the floor, and Monty landed on Mercos’ shoulder with sorrowed caw-caw. Seeing the bird was uninjured, he heaved his hammer atop a stray bone, shattering it to pieces. “A bone for a feather!”

Lyra pointed the tip of her sword at the bones as they shifted and grated across the stone floor. “Titan Balls! It’s pulling itself back together!”

Hunter kicked one the bones closest to the further away. “It doesn’t always form in the right anatomical configuration. Same strategy.”

Dark plasma surged around the bones, whipping them into shape.

Shaking his head, Mercos narrowed his eyes. “You’re right lad. That’s not the same skeleton coming back.”

Hunter’s eyes widened as the bones stacked themselves lengthwise, taking on the form of a vicious beast with a spiked tail and fang-lined mouth from its splintered bones. “Change of plan.”