The tension in the room rose. Earl Rosewind had been in a lot of difficult situations in his life. In nearly all cases, he had used a combination of wits, cleverness, and the occasional pinch of charm, to get out of them. This time, though, there didn’t seem to be any obvious way out.

“It’s been over a minute, my lord,” Spok said, sitting across the small table. “There’s no shame in surrender.”

A small circular board of silver and brass figures stood on a table between them. Each figure represented a piece in a game for strategists and nobility. It was said that the game was so well made and intricate that even a five-year-old could learn to play, but it took the greatest military and political geniuses to fully master it.

Spok had never known the game until a few minutes ago. She had never intended to learn it. Given there was nothing else to do with the chaos outside, she saw no reason not to oblige. After all, provided the town survived—and Theo didn’t have to move to a new location—she’d have to deal with the noble a lot in the future.

“Surrender should never be free.” The earl moved a crowned piece along the board. “One must always make your opponents work for it. At least that’s what my father used to teach me. I must admit, I was never particularly good at this game.” He shrugged. “That’s not to say I’m not impressed. I’ve been trying to get my son to play for years, and he’s no good at it.”

“I’m merely a quick learner, my lord.” Spok made her move almost instantly; a plain but solid move that left little to chance. “I’m more impressed that you’re taking this so lightly.”

“Oh?” The earl looked at her. “Does it appear so? This town has been through three catastrophes in just as many years. Taking matters lightly is the last thing on my mind. Would things improve if I spend my time panicking?” He moved another piece on the board. “Your move, d’Esprit.”

“You can call me Spok, my lord.” The spirit guide played almost instantly.

“Well, in that case, it’ll only be fair if you call me Cecil.”

“Cecil?” Spok blinked. This was the first time she had heard the earl’s first name mentioned. Yet, it wasn’t that which surprised her, but the fact that he extended the offer at all. While no one, not even a servant, was present, allowing a mere governess to address an earl with his first name was… “Is that—”

Abruptly, the spirit guide stopped. A letter had just popped up in the air. Before it could even move, Spok snatched it, instantly burning it to cinders in her hand.

“We’ll have to cut our game short.” The spirit guide stood up.

“That’s a shame,” Earl Rosewind sighed. “It was your move.”

Spok looked at the board. Somehow, the man had managed to make his move without her even noticing. It was a sneaky thing to do, though elegantly executed.

“There’s no shame in surrender,” she adjusted her glasses. “You win this one, Earl.”

Another letter appeared just where the previous one had. It was clear to everyone that the room was no longer safe. Through some unclear means, a spot had been marked and from here on, more and more letters would appear until the entire room was full, or its occupants were cursed and taken to the abomination’s estate.

Grabbing his protection helmet, the earl rushed towards the exit. The number of letters appearing grew with each moment. One had become two, then three, giving Spok an increasingly difficult time to counter them. For every letter she would destroy, several more appeared, forcing her to rely on her limited telekinesis to keep them from reaching the earl.

Cursed pieces of paper kept on pushing the invisible wall of the spirit guide as she walked back. By the time she reached the exit, they had effectively turned into a cursed bulletin board.

“Here.” The earl handed Spok a banner.

Most people would have been confused with his action, but the spirit guide merely grabbed it, then used telekinesis to tuck it into the gaps around the door, preventing any letters from escaping.

“Good thinking, My Lord,” she said, taking a step back.

“Cecil, please.”

“Very well… Cecil.” Spok looked about. There was no sign of other letters in the hallway so far, but the fact that they had started appearing in individual rooms was a bad sign. “I think it might be better if you put on your helmet, for now.”

“Yes, I believe that would be best.” The noble sighed, then placed the uncomfortable piece of armor on. “Ribbons!” he shouted.

There was no reply.

“Maybe he couldn’t hear,” Spok suggested. “Your castle is rather large and—”

“Ribbons not respond?” Earl Rosewind shook his head. “If the man had two legs broken, he’d crawl his way up here just to ask what’s the matter. No, I fear he’s gone like the rest.”

It was possible for there to be another explanation, yet both doubted that to be the case. The captain of the guard’s absence, on the other hand, raised some rather alarming concerns. He too had had a protective helmet, making him, in theory, immune to the zombie letter effects. If he had been affected, that meant that no place was safe.

“I think we should go to the baron’s mansion,” Spok suggested. “It’s the only place in town you’ll be safe.”

“Nonsense. It’s probably raining letters out there. I can’t risk your life in a futile gesture.”

Spok opened her mouth to argue, but the earl raised his hand, stopping her before she could start.

“No, I’ll simply not have it. Being driven out of my own castle, and using a lovely lady as a shield, no less. If I’m to make a stand, I’ll do it here. Besides, the council chamber is protected against all sorts of magic. If there’s a place in Rosewind that’s safe, that would be it, don’t you agree?”

The spirit guide thought about it for a few moments. She could easily go into detail, providing ten different reasons why the baron’s home was a lot more secure. Half of them didn’t even involve her admitting that it was a dungeon. Despite that, and against all logic, Spok found herself wanting to believe the man.

“Of course, Cecil,” she said, a smile appearing on her face. “I’m sure there’s no safer place.”

While the entire town was inundated with hundreds of thousands of zombie letters, several heated fights continued at the source of the massive curse. Focusing on his avatar, the dungeon had cast a mild sleeping spell in all of his buildings. That way, he could at least hear himself think. It was very much needed, especially since the abomination had taken steps to limit any potential advantage he had. An optimist would have said that Agonia’s actions were proof that she was considerably weakened. The issue was that even in that state; she proved a very elusive opponent.

Blood strands darted at the baron from all directions. Unlike most opponents he had faced so far, the abomination had dispersed throughout the throne room, becoming a cove of swirling blood surrounding Theo’s avatar entirely. Blessings were ineffective against anything this size, especially since there was no vital point that one could aim for. Each time a patch of blood would vaporize, it would be instantly filled up, as if nothing had happened. Using blessed fire or ice shards would have done a lot better, yet attempting any mass destruction spells with so many people present was a firm no. The same could be said for the room transformation ability or unleashing an ice elemental.

“You can always join me,” Agonia’s voice filled the room. “There’s no need to destroy something of value.”

“And become part of your children’s collection?” The avatar surrounded himself in a ball of ice, then used his flight spell and telekinesis to propel himself to where the entrance had been.

The entire room trembled as ice met bone. Both shattered, allowing Liandra to become visible for a split second. The heroine was facing Count Alvera and someone else amid a sea of skeletons. Before Theo could even yell out to her, more bone spikes emerged from the floor, quickly reforming the wall.

“I wouldn’t waste you on something so childish,” the abomination continued. “We’ll be allies. I’ll grant you power to do whatever you want, even start your own collection.”

Spending the equivalent of a thousand mana, Theo froze a quarter of the bloody whirlwind. An entire section of the abomination froze solid. For several seconds, it almost seemed that he’d gained the upper hand. Unfortunately, the remaining blood filled the gap, quickly layering on top of the ice.

“It’s not all bad.” Even without a face, there was no hiding the smugness in Agonia’s voice. “Just ask my children.”

“Sure. Just let me out there and I’ll do just that.”

“Why? You can do so right here.”

The throne melted to the ground, quickly becoming part of the bloody whirlwind. The wall behind, which Theo had assumed to be a permanent fixture, cracked up, then shattered, revealing a new section. This time there weren’t more hostages there, but two skeletal figures seated on lesser thrones.

“There you go.” The abomination’s attacks ceased, as if she were daring Theo to examine the bodies.

Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.

Every instinct past and present told him that it was a terrible idea, possibly a trap. Yet, even so, the urge of curiosity proved greater.

Lady Raffel Leevek (cursed)

Lady Raffel Leevek is a minor noble of no importance who has been cursed to take on the form of a ruby ring.

Marquis Sullivan Leevek (cursed)

Marquis Sullivan Leevek is a minor noble of no importance who has been cursed to take on the form of a golden monocle.

“You weren’t lying?” The dungeon felt equally shocked by the abomination’s honesty and the state of the nobles. There could be no doubt that they were deceased—probably decades ago, although when it came to curses, no one could tell for certain.

Unless there was a spell or ability that could hide information from his arcane identify, this was what remained of the real them.

“Why would I need to?” A note of grumpiness bled into the abomination’s voice. “That’s what they wanted. That’s what all of them wanted.”

“To become jewelry?”

“To be free from their constraints and do whatever they wished. That’s what all necromancers want. These two just wanted it harder.”

In order words, they were greedier. Theo could see it now—generations of necromancers using Memoria’s tomb to boost their powers. Maybe at some point they probably had some limits of safety procedures, but when was that a deterrent? The current marquis had probably “sapped” a bit too hard, waking the abomination from her slumber, which proved to be enough.

“They woke you up, and you cursed them,” the avatar said.

“I changed their nature into what they’ve always wanted to be. One doesn’t need a body to act like a human. You should know better than most.”

A cunning plan started to form within the dungeon’s mind. Agonia seemed to honestly want him to join her side—whatever that side was. The prospect of bossing around the marquis and his wife had a certain appeal, yet Theo couldn’t trust anything she said. In his previous life, he had dealt with his share of questionable contracts to know that infinity resided between acts and promises. The only way to keep Agonia from going back on her word was to betray her first, and for that, he had just the idea.

“And into what will you change me?” he asked, looking at the blood that swirled around the room. “A crown?”

“I wouldn’t need to change you. You’ve done that already. I’ll even return all the people of your town. They’re your—”

Right then, Theo cast his swiftness ultra skill. A single moment of time occurred during which everything but him was frozen. It wasn’t much, but enough to invest a shockingly large amount of energy into one single ice spell.

“Let’s see how you react to that,” Theo said back in his main body.

The abomination had proven she was capable of surviving massive ice spells, but even she wouldn’t be able to do anything if all of her were to be frozen solid. And the best thing was that thanks to his newly developed skill, she wouldn’t have the chance to do anything about it.

A blue glow surrounded the avatar as he invested more mana than any living being with common sense ever would. He had to be careful, of course, not to allow his chill to harm any of the people beyond the large torrent of blood.

In fractions of a second, everything crimson was covered in a thin layer of ice. Just a fraction more and the battle was as good as over. Before that could happen, multiple areas of the ice cracked. Blood strands shot out, escaping their cage, aiming straight for the avatar’s torso.

Driven by pure instinct, without a drop of rational thought, Theo went to his go-to-defense, surrounding himself with an invulnerable aether sphere.

As time returned to normal, jets of blood splashed onto the sphere, three quarters of it.

“You cheated?” the abomination asked, more angry than surprised; angry that the avatar had ended up being faster.

“So did you!” Theo replied. Deep inside, he couldn’t shake the realization that her action was almost as fast as his. That wasn’t supposed to be possible. “Spok!” he shouted through the necklace. “Why are abominations faster than deities?”

“I’m a bit preoccupied at the moment, sir,” the spirit guardian replied. She didn’t sound at all pleased. “The earl’s castle has been—”

“Never mind that now!” the dungeon snapped. “Provide an explanation!”

Blood kept striking the sphere shielding the avatar, only to pull back and strike again. For the next eight seconds, nothing the abomination did would put the baron at risk. Once that time was over, though…

“What was your question again, sir?” Spok asked with a note of open annoyance.

“I cast an ultra swiftness spell. Supposedly, it should allow me to become as fast as a deity!”

“That’s not exactly…” Mentally Spok wanted to scream. There was so much wrong in the dungeon’s statement that she honestly didn’t know where to start. While exceptional, as all ultra skill variants, it was common enough, historically speaking, for her to know exactly what it did. Specifically, it granted the caster the speed of a single, almost instantaneous reaction. “Yes, that’s what should happen,” the spirit guide chose not to argue.

“Well, I used it and was too slow for the abomination!”

“I see, sir.” If Spok were anyone else, she would have resorted to the universal “I told you so” routine, though in far subtler fashion. There was a reason that no one engaged abominations without a very well thought out plan, or better yet—never at all. Being who she was, though, she once again swallowed her objections. “It’s possible she has the same ability as well, sir,” she replied, resorting to the simplest explanation one could think of.

“Damn! Any way around that?”

“You could still sever the link to your avatar, sir,” Spok reminded.

“And what about the letters, then? The town's covered with them. Half the nasty things have stacked up on every surface there is, while the rest are driving the griffins crazy!” There was a momentary pause. “How come the griffins aren’t affected?”

“They are royal griffins, sir. Also, they are your creations, and as such are immune to curses.”

The explanation made just enough sense to give the dungeon an idea. Not a terribly good idea, even by Theo’s standards, but still a viable idea. There was a reasonably good chance he could save Rosewind after all. As for his avatar, that was an entirely different matter. Apparently, taking the Agonia head on had been a bit premature. If only he had gained a few more levels, this would hardly have been an issue. As things stood, his only option was to rely on Liandra, and in order to do that, he first had to reach her.

Less than four seconds of invulnerability remained. In that time, Theo had to devise a plan capable of withstanding serious scrutiny.

The abomination’s nature! The dungeon thought. That was a certain way of defeating Agonia. If he uncovered that, he could unravel the entity. Admittedly, finding the answer to a riddle that had remained unsolved for a century, and doing so in the next three seconds, was borderline impossible. For that reason, the avatar resorted to a subtle cheat.

One second before the aether sphere lost its invulnerability, a second, smaller one, emerged within.

Blood strands shattered the outer layer, eager to strike their target, only to find out that the inner bubble was also invulnerable.

“You must be joking!” Agonia shouted. A cluster of her strands merged together, forming the upper torso of the woman that had been on the throne. “Did you seriously make an invulnerable bubble in an invulnerable bubble?! Are you a child?”

“Works, doesn’t it?” the avatar said with fake bravado. “It’s not like you’re doing anything original. At least the blood carpet attacks were novel.”

Strands merged together, forming razor-sharp spikes of blood.

The optimistic part of the dungeon’s consciousness cheered victoriously. His actions had driven her mad, and it was well known that when people were angry, they tended to make mistakes. The far larger part of his conscious self, however, hectically went through all the information he’d gathered since the start of this unfortunate noble quest in order to deduce Agonia’s nature.

The arcane identify had revealed her to be the abomination of fulfillment. That, combined with her bloody form, suggested…

Argh! The dungeon groaned internally. What did the two have in common? Could her nature be blood? That seemed too simple to be true. Then again, maybe that’s why no one had figured it out before—the answer was hiding in plain sight. But if that were the case, then what? How could one undo blood? Freezing didn’t work, and neither did burning. Maybe he could use enough instances of an entangle spell to soak up the blood and through that render her immobile?

Precisely one second before the baron’s aether sphere lost its invulnerability, a smaller one formed within. The following shriek made it clear what Agonia thought on the matter. Unfortunately, it also meant that the avatar cramped up a bit.

Maybe her nature wasn’t blood, but infection? The abomination did corrupt anything she came in direct contact with, except ice. If that were the case, Theo could cast multiple blessings on the aether threads as he entangled the blood, effectively disinfecting her existence. And then, just to be on the safe side, he could freeze her.

Another aether bubble appeared within the last.

“Seriously?” The blood spikes pulled back. “You’re just prolonging the inevitable. You’ll run out of space or mana eventually. All I have to do is wait.”

“I’ve lots of mana,” the avatar smirked. “And I can be very precise. Did you know that the wall of an aether barrier is thinner than a spider web?”

There was a clear lie made up on the spot, but it did cause the abomination to pause for a bit. That single moment provided just what Theo needed to put his plan into action.

Both aether bubbles shattered as the avatar stretched his hands, casting his ultra swiftness again. Unlike all the times before, the inner sphere hadn’t been made indestructible, just so that a single massive spell could be cast.

Spending more mana than a flock of wizards, the dungeon filled the room with aether threads. Like wool, they covered the blood strands, turning crimson as they did. Not wasting a moment, the avatar started his series of ultra blessings. With each one, a patch of aether threads would revert back to its original color. Following up, all purified areas were immediately frozen, preventing any chance of secondary corruption by the abomination.

The process was rather costly. If Spok weren’t dealing with issues of her own, she would have reminded him of the fact in the strictest possible fashion. Given how things were going, she might well have the opportunity sooner than everyone thought. While Theo was mopping up Agonia, he had also released a large number of his royal slimes into Rosewind. Normally, the creatures would be considered a far more serious threat than the goblins that had stormed the town not too long ago. With all the inhabitants sealed off in their homes or transported to the abomination’s estate, the only thing the slimes could do was to dissolve the annoying letters that had cluttered up the place. The best part—since they were Theo’s minions, they were perfectly immune to the curse’s effects.

Unexpectedly, a strand of blood tore through the aether threads, flying directly towards the avatar. Instinctively, the baron cast an ice shield in front of him. No sooner had he done so when he suddenly felt a jabbing sensation in his side. This was new. Avatars didn’t feel pain by definition, and still he could feel it very clearly. What was more, looking down, he could see the blood strand buried just beneath his ribs.

“What was that all about?” the abomination asked.

Almost simultaneously, the aether threads snapped, releasing the blood that composed the being. Even the frozen sections shattered like cheap clay.

“Was it supposed to harm me?”

“Seems I underestimated you,” the dungeon attempted to retain its composure. “It’s not like you did much better.”

“Think again.”

As Agonia said that, Theo felt an uncontrollable urge to grow. Buildings and underground tunnels shot out from a section of Rosewind’s wall, spreading through the empty space like tree roots in fertile soil. In one single burst, the dungeon’s overall size had grown by a tenth, at least, consuming a lot of the core points he had been saving up for emergencies.

The avatar cast a blessing on the thread. The blood instantly evaporated in a puff of crimson vapor. Once it did, the explosive growth of the dungeon ceased.

“What did you do to me?” the avatar asked. This was the first time someone had hurt him in such fashion, and he didn’t like it to say the least.

“I did you a favor,” the abomination replied, amused. “You’ve always wanted to grow beyond your current shell. I’ll make sure that you do.”