A rat skittered across his path, vanishing into a hole in the baseboard. At least something lived here. Though from the size of that rat, maybe that wasn't comforting.
Somewhere deeper in the darkness, floorboards creaked.
The sound came from above, a slow drag of weight across ancient wood. Silas's hand dropped to the Summoner Orb at his be. After those armored guards outside, he wasn't taking chances with whatever else might call this place home.
The creaking stopped. Then started again, closer this time.
Silas moved.
If Dolan had taught him anything, nothing good would happen just sitting around.
Portraits lined the corridor, their frames warped and sagging. Most had succumbed to rot, but a few remained - though someone or something had torn through the faces, leaving only fragments of whom or whatever had been painted underneath.
Gooseflesh broke out on his arms.
He stopped mid-step as metal scraped against stone above, followed by heavy, deliberate footsteps that set dust to straight drifting.
The corridor widened into a vast foyer.
What remained of a chandelier lay shattered across the floor, its crystals ground to powder beneath fallen beams and broken furniture.
A figure waited in the center of the room. The creature towered at least nine feet tall, encased in plates of deep crimson armor that almost seemed like fresh blood.
Though it stood motionless, something about its stance reminded Silas about some of the monsters he had hunted in the past. He was in danger.
Silas kept his stance loose, ready to move. The armor might be ancient, but the movement he saw so far suggested he wouldn't be able to out maneuver, not like the armors outside. d. His fingers brushed the summoning orb, but he held back. Starting a fight in this cramped space against something that size would end badly.
"Who would dare to trespass within Beckham Estate?" A deep, rasping voice boomed
"Silas Beckham!" He yelled, "Last of the line."
The armor advanced. "Many have claimed the Beckham name. Their bones rest in the garden now. You'll be another vulture, come to claim what’s not yours"
Silas had survived Dolan's streets by knowing when someone wanted an excuse to kill, and this thing was looking for one.
The armored monster advanced.
In one hand it gripped a sword, and in the other a weapon suddenly appeared, hybrid of polearm and blade with all kinds of barbed edges. The weapons looked designed for maximum pain rather than clean kills.
"Begone, or feed the floor with your entrails," it command.
Silas cursed.
He'd faced monsters before, but this was on a different level. Even then, he wasn't ready to quit. He was all in.
"I'm the rightful heir!" Silas yelled, but the thing only took another
The thing took another thunderous step forward. Its armor clacked with the movement, red runes flaring to life along each plate. Shadows swirled around its feet, and Silas caught glimpses of spirits flickering in and out of view, half-formed faces that pressed outwards in puffs of magic and smoke.
"Shit," Silas muttered under his breath.
The purple wisteria in his pocket felt completely inadequate, but it was all he had, that and a little holy water.
Silas yanked the inheritance papers from his coat, but the armored figure's speed left no time to explain.
His muscles tensed, ready to dodge.
"I have proof!" Silas called out, waving the documents. The thing paid no attention, its weapons suddenly blurred and turned red s as it attacked.
The skeleton's sword swiped out, trying to cut through his mid section. Silas threw himself backward, stumbling over broken stone and splintered wood. The sword's edge passed close enough that if he'd been a moment slower, he'd be dying on the floor.
"Wait!" He yelloed again.
The armored monster just ignored him and followed up with an attack from the scythe. Silas dropped to the ground and rolled, the weapon's impact sending cracks through the floor tiles, revealing a void of dark empty space underneath.
Skeletal hands burst from the broken floor, long pale bones summoned from the dark to grab at him.
Silas kicked hard, shattering the first set of fingers that clutched at his boot. More erupted through the cracks, an endless supply of grasping limbs reaching for any part of him they could grab.
He stomped another hand into dust, but three more seized his left leg. Their grip was like iron, bony fingers digging into his flesh through his pants. Silas slammed his heel down, breaking one set of fingers, then another. But for each hand he destroyed, two more took its place.
The armored monster attacked again.
Silas wrenched himself free of the skeletal grasp and dove forward, barely dodging the attack again. He rolled across broken tiles and splintered wood, hands bursting up wherever he touched the ground.
Pain shot through his right arm as cold fingers latched onto his wrist.
Silas's instincts screamed at him to counter or die. He fumbled for the small flask pinned inside his coat, the holy water burning cold against his palm through the glass. His fingers closed around it just as another skeletal hand burst through the floor, clawing at his boots.
He popped the cork with his thumb. The armored monster's next slash came in so fast Silas barely tracked the movement. He flung the water in a desperate arc, praying his timing wasn't off.
Droplets splashed across the skeleton's breastplate and helm. The effect hit was immediately, white steam rose from where the liquid made contact, sizzling against the blood-red metal.
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The armor flickered.
"GRRAAAHH!" The monster's sword technique faltered mid-swing.
Silas stumbled back, chest heaving. The armor convulsed, trying to shake off the burning liquid. Through gaps in its smoking helm, he caught glimpses of a cracked skull underneath.
Silas yanked the wisteria from his pocket, crushing the purple flowers in his fist. The skeletal hands recoiled at the plant's touch, crumbling to dust where the petals made contact. He scattered the crushed flowers in a circle around him, buying precious seconds as the bony fingers retreated back into the broken floor.
The armored monster was shaking off the rest of the holy water and would resume its attacks soon.
Silas's fingers found the summoning orb. No time to be picky about which creature answered his call. He poured mana into the sphere, and light burst forth as his Grey Owl materialized above him.
The bird's wings spread wide.
"Go for its head!" he commanded the owl.
The bird dove straight for the armored monster's helmet, talons extended.
The monster swung its weapons wildly, trying to keep the bird away.
"I can't just give up and die," he muttered through gritted teeth.
"YOU DARE USE HOLY WATER ON ME AND SEND A BIRD TO PECK AT ME?" The monster roared.
Steam still rose from its armor where the blessed liquid had made contact. Silas's hands shook, but not from fear. He'd survived the streets of Dolan, fought arachne in collapsed buildings, and clawed his way through the fighting pits. He hadn't come all this way to die in his own damn house.
"I didn't crawl out of Dolan's gutters just to die here!" Silas snarled, yanking the inheritance papers from his coat. "I'm the heir, and I can prove it!"
He hurled the documents at the armored monster.
The papers fluttered through the air between them. The armored monster snatched them with impossible speed, its massive gauntleted hand dwarfing the documents.
"These are, oh, oh my." The monster's voice trailed off as it studied the papers.
Silas straightened his back. "Official inheritance documents from the Magistrate's office. Blood-sealed and verified."
The armor's red glow dimmed. One by one, the skeletal hands retreated with surprising grace, adjusting their torn gloves as they sank back into the floor. The broken tiles shifted back into place, leaving only hairline cracks in the marble.
"My deepest apologies, Lord Beckham." The monster's voice changed, losing its rage but keeping an otherworldly echo. The blood-red armor dissolved like smoke, revealing a tall skeletal frame dressed in an immaculate butler's suit.
Silas kept his distance, holy water flask still ready. "What... what is this?"
"This, young master, is what happens when one fails to make a proper introduction." The skeleton adjusted a monocle that had somehow appeared in one eye socket. "I am Bonereghard Ekkert, appointed guardian and butler of Beckham Estate. Though I must say, your entrance through the garden wall was rather unorthodox."
Silas didn't lower his guard. After that fight, the butler's polite tone felt like another trap. "The front gate was rusted shut."
"Ah." Bonereghard brushed some holy water residue from his lapel. "Yes. Maintenance has been somewhat lack luster since Master Dewalt's passing. Still, attempted murder aside, I must ask, why didn't you lead with your status as heir?"
Silas's jaw clenched.
"I shouted it the moment I walked in."
"Did you?" Bonereghard adjusted his monocle. "I was rather focused on defending the estate from potential looters."
"You tried to kill me!" Silas responded.
"A regrettable misunderstanding." Bonereghard waved a bony hand. "Water under the bridge, as they say."
"Water under the ridge? Really?" Silas stared at the skeleton butler. "You summoned hands from the floor to drag me under!"
"Standard estate security measures. Nothing personal, I assure you." Bonereghard brushed some dust from his impeccable suit sleeve. "Though I must commend your quick thinking with the holy water. Most intruders don't come quite so well-prepared."
The Grey Owl landed on a broken beam above, still watching the skeleton with predatory focus. Silas couldn't blame it.
"You were going to add my bones to the garden," Silas said.
"Ah, yes. Well, it is a rather nice garden depending on time of the year." Bonereghard straightened his tie.
Silas crossed his arms. "What made you think I was a looter?"
"We get them from time to time." Bonereghard admitted much to his dismay. "Much like rats, mites, and the occasional leak in the ceiling." The skeleton's empty eye sockets traced over Silas's torn clothes and dirt-streaked face. "And if I may say so young heir, you do look quite the ragamuffin."
Silas glanced down at his monster-blood stained clothes. Hard to argue with that assessment. The past few days of sleeping rough and fighting in the pits hadn't helped either.
The Grey Owl shifted on its perch, talons scraping against wood. Silas kept the bird summoned - just in case this butler decided to try adding him to the garden again.
"Perhaps we should discuss the estate's condition somewhere more appropriate?" Bonereghard asked, "The study remains mostly intact."
"Sure. I guess." Silas kept his eyes on the skeleton butler. After that welcome, he wasn't about to fully trust anything in this place.
He glanced up at the Grey Owl. The bird had proven reliable through the pit fights and now here. It was ready to attack again if needed.
"Thanks buddy." Silas pulled back his mana, dismissing the summoned creature. The owl dissolved into light then faded into nothing.
Bonereghard's eye sockets tracked the owl as it dissolved back into the orb. He adjusted his monocle with one bony finger.
"Hmm... we need to update that system of yours."
The skeleton butler's words triggered something. The air shifted, crackling with unseen energy. Blue light sparked around Silas, forming intricate patterns that hung in the air for a moment before resolving into floating text.
[System Activation: Beckham Bloodline Recognized]
[Analyzing Current Status...]
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
SILAS BECKHAM
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
Class: Summoner (Potential: Mythic)
Rank: E +
ATTRIBUTES
-----------
• Strength: E
• Agility: D
• Endurance: D
• Magic: C
SKILLS
-------
• Street Fighting [Intermediate]
• Monster Knowledge [Intermediate]
• Survival Instincts [Intermediate]
• Beast Taming [Latent]
TITLES
-------
• Last of the Beckham Line
• Heir to the Beckham Estate
• Summoner Initiate
STATUS
-------
• Minor Injuries: Scrapes, bruises
• Physical Fatigue: Moderate
• Mental Fatigue: High
• Mana Pool: Low (recent summoning overload)
DEBTS
-------
• Estate Inheritance Tax: 12,489 gold
• Back Taxes: 15,623 gold
• Total Outstanding: 28,112 gold
ASSETS
--------
• Magistrate’s Summoning Orb (Borrowed)
• Basic Combat Gear (slightly damaged)
• [Coin on Hand]: Modest (subject to story events)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
SUMMONER’S ROSTER (6 SLOTS)
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
1) Grey Owl (E)
- Status: Slightly injured, short rest needed
- Notes: Aerial strike advantage, Grip-and-Drop finisher
2) Lesser Salamander (E)
- Status: Minor burns, short rest needed
- Notes: Fire-breath for area control, risk of overheat
3) Bog Frog (E)
- Status: Dead (permanently destroyed)
- Note: Orb slot locked until professionally cleared or repaired
4) [Unknown]
- Status: Not yet discovered/tamed
5) [Unknown]
- Status: Not yet discovered/tamed
6) [Unknown]
- Status: Not yet discovered/tamed
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
ESTATE RECOGNITION
━━━━━━━━━━━━━━
- Caretaker: Boneregard Ekkert (Warlord-Butler), now bound to obey legitimate heir
- Estate Wards: Partially responsive to Heir’s presence, require major reactivation
- Full Entry: Granted; official claim recognized
CURRENT OBJECTIVES
-------------------
• Replenish Mana and recover from injuries
• Subdue or remove feral monsters inside the mansion
• Resolve vast outstanding debt
• Manage the Beckham Estate
SYSTEM NOTE:
“Congratulations, Heir: Identity confirmed! May future dealings be less spirited.”
"Ah, I see the estate's recognition system has activated," Bonereghard said, noting Silas's expression. "A rather useful tool for tracking one's progress, though I must say those debt numbers are rather concerning."