A mummy lunges at me. I fend it off without looking away, my heart pounding in my chest. Tom and Vincent, standing beside me, drive their swords through the naga’s chest. One of them destroys the heart with a critical hit. The creature exhales its last breath.

Darius, still on the ground, struggles to process what just happened. Only four mummies remain, and they fall quickly. I release Alistair and the skeleton from the cracked dome that had been protecting them.

Congratulations. Your Minor Earth Wall spell has leveled up. It is now Low Earth Wall.

I swipe the notification away without a second thought. I’m not in the mood for this right now.

I glance at Ronan, feeling sorry for him. The boy’s eyes are teary, but he’s holding himself together, scanning for new threats.

"My lady, be careful. I still sense many undead nearby," he warns us, his voice slightly trembling.

Poor kid… I feel someone’s hand lightly grip my arm. I turn to my right and see Mary, tears streaming down her face.

"He was truly his friend," she whispers, more to herself than to me.

I’m about to say something to downplay the situation, maybe a casual "Don’t worry, he has more skeletons". But I bite my lip and stay quiet.

I feel sad for him too. And for Joe, who has done nothing but help us from the start and just sacrificed himself for Darius.

Did you order him to do it, Ronan? Did you give him those instructions, or was it something spontaneous, something born from the personality Joe had when he was alive? Or perhaps from the one he may have developed while by your side? I wonder silently but dare not voice it.

One thing is clear to me: that skeleton—if it’s as old as the one with the shield and sword—has been with Ronan for days, if not weeks.

"They ended up being more than useful," Theodore mutters, without malice.

Ronan glares at him, furious. For a moment, I fear he’s about to do something he’ll regret, but Theodore meets his gaze, puzzled, and Ronan seems to realize he didn’t mean anything bad.

Ronan looks away and approaches Joe’s body. He kneels down, staring into the empty, flame-less eye sockets. Mary steps away from me and places a comforting hand on Ronan’s back, trying to encourage him.

What’s curious is that, this time, I don’t see her flinch or show the slightest discomfort being near someone with high dark affinity. I guess her pain and kindness have far outweighed her natural aversion to the opposing element.

Darius gets to his feet and stands beside Ronan.

"I’m sorry, and thank you. I owe my life to Bob. I owe you my life."

"That was Joe. This is Bob." Ronan gestures toward the skeleton. "But thanks."

We all stand in silence for a few minutes, unsure of what to say or do.

Finally, Ronan picks up Joe’s skull and places it in his backpack.

Alistair remains quiet, likely trying to make sense of what just happened. Darius helps Ronan to his feet, and we all begin to examine the room carefully, wary of more undead creatures lurking nearby.

We find a chest. It’s not trapped and contains several health and mana potions. We decide Mary should hold onto them. Darius picks up the naga’s swords, testing their weight. He keeps them, saying they seem better than his current one. Vincent glances at the weapons but declines, finding them too heavy—hand-and-a-half swords. He doesn’t have the strength to wield them properly like Darius. Meanwhile, the rest of us, somewhat more relaxed now that no additional undead seem to be in the room, search for anything of value.

After staring at the naga for a while, Ronan decides to resurrect it. He raises his hands and begins chanting the spell. Curious, I watch as the process takes significantly longer than with the level 1 bears, and it’s certainly nothing like my own magic, which is much more immediate. If I focus, I think I can see his dark aura flowing out of him, like tendrils of mist wrapping around the naga. They seem to pierce its dead flesh.

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I hear a soft gasp and look to my right.

It’s Mary. She’s staring at Ronan with wide eyes, her body trembling. I approach her and, this time, I'm the one who places a hand on her arm.

"Are you okay?" I whisper.

Vincent looks at us, but the necromancer is entirely absorbed in his spell.

"They’re hands… dark hands that won’t let the naga rest…"

"It’s okay," I reassure her.

I understand; for her, necromantic magic must feel like an abomination against natural laws.

We keep watching, and after a few seconds, Ronan raises his voice slightly.

"Come to me."

The naga stands—or tries to, at least. Like the original, it’s missing a significant portion of its snake-like tail. Because of this, it struggles to rise but ultimately fails.

Ronan kneels to greet it, bringing himself to its level.

Mary shudders as the creature comes back to life, and I gently rub her back, as if comforting a scared child.

"It’s just like the skeletons."

"Yes, but I’ve never seen them being reanimated."

"It won’t stay this way forever. It will return to nature and the earth. Don’t worry."

Mary nods.

"Look, it shocked me the first time too. But I don’t see it as something evil—rather, something honorable. He’s like a lord gathering a new servant, forming a bond where they protect each other. And with the care he’s taking now… it’s clear he wanted this to go well, to take care of the naga. To me, it shows nobility."

"Thank you," she replies.

She’s still nervous and affected by the dark magic, but she’s calmer now.

The others, who had been searching the cavern for loot, also turn their attention to Ronan and his new ally. Darius, in particular, has been watching with a mix of joy and slight greed. Knowing him, he’s probably pleased that Ronan can replace the skeleton that saved his life, gaining a new friend, and, of course, he’s likely imagining how many monsters we can defeat with the naga on our side.

One thing I’m certain of is that the redhead is still at level 6. If he had leveled up, he would have shouted it to the heavens by now.

After inspecting the entire room, we gather everything we’ve looted. Darius, not entirely convinced, puts down the swords.

Specifically, we have:

* Two hand-and-a-half naga swords.

* A necklace of air affinity: allows the use of the Minor Wind Blade spell once a day, consuming its mana cost.

* Two tunics of fire affinity: +1 fire resistance.

* A cloak of earth affinity: allows the use of the Minor Stone Bullets spell once a day, consuming its mana cost.

* A dagger with dark affinity: +1 dark damage added to weapon damage.

* Four health potions.

* Four mana potions.

* Two antidote potions.

* A ring of water affinity: allows the use of the Minor Water Breathing spell once a day, consuming its mana cost.

* Seven gems without affinities.

* Forty khopesh.

These last ones are the curved swords, resembling sickles, that the mummies carried.

"How do you know the properties of magical items?" I ask.

It makes sense for me to see their stats when I pick them up, thanks to my system. But what about them?

"My affinity is with air," Vincent explains. "I have the Identify spell."

Of course. From the otome, I already knew that was his element. It makes sense he would have been taught such a useful spell.

"What’s this about items with elemental affinity?" I ask. "Do they increase your elemental affinity, or do they give it to you if you don’t already have it?"

In the little time I spent playing, I didn’t manage to acquire any items with affinity.

Vincent gives me a strange look. Okay, I just asked something really obvious.

"If an item could do that, it wouldn’t be in a dungeon of this level. If you could gain magical affinities with items, it wouldn’t matter if you were born with magic or weak magic. It would be interesting, no doubt."

"Sorry, sometimes I speak without thinking."

"You sure do, Bianca," Darius chimes in. "You wouldn’t even be here with just medium earth magic affinity. Your parents would have bought you an upgrade to high or maybe even a couple more affinities. And me too—can you imagine me as one of those legendary warriors with three elemental affinities?" He laughs.

"My lady hit her head; sometimes she forgets things," Ronan defends me.

Well, this is new. Ronan defending me.

"Why do you keep calling her ‘my lady’ all the time?” Darius asks. “You’re not her servant."

"My lady deserves no lesser treatment."

"Well," I quickly interject, eager to change the subject, "how are we splitting the loot? I wouldn’t mind a health potion or some money."

"For now, we’ll leave it here. We’ll split it after resting and eating something. Mary should keep the health potions for now. She can hand them out as needed. The money is easy; we’ll divide it after we sell what we don’t want to keep. Come on, let’s eat, and then we’ll sort it out."

I nod, and we move to a slightly secluded spot in the room to eat.

Ronan leaves Bob, Tom, and the naga to keep watch at the room’s entrance. The naga slides along the floor with the combined effort of what’s left of its tail and its arms. Knowing Ronan better now, I can tell he’s still uneasy, as if he feels this isn’t over yet. So, I ask him what’s wrong.

"My lady, I still sense undead nearby—many more than we’ve encountered so far."

We all fall silent, staring at him.

Vincent breaks the tension with something as effective as starting to offer us the extra food he brought along. We all have our own, but the prince has some incredibly tempting desserts. In the face of sugar, the fear that was gripping us quickly fades away.

We eat leisurely, and once we're done, Vincent says it's time to distribute the loot.