Plume, her feet rooted deep into the earth, rapidly transformed into a monstrous tree, towering several times higher than any nearby. In a heartbeat, vibrant flowers bloomed along her branches, and for a brief moment, everyone seemed spellbound by the surreal scene as a rich, fragrant scent filled the air.
A breeze swept through, plucking a few flowers from the tree. They drifted lazily, carried by invisible currents, scattering across the area. Before the stunned cultivators and zombies could react, the flowers clustered around the undead, swirling in ominous patterns.
While the hound extermination crew remained unfazed, the cultivators eyed the flowers warily. They noticed the blooms swelling rapidly—too late. A sudden explosion ripped through the stillness, triggering a chain of blasts that hurled earth, flesh, blood, and dust in every direction. At that very moment, the hound extermination crew engaged their assigned opponents.
“My leader, allow me to handle the one with freckles; I’ll leave the other to you,” Slim grinned as he slowly unfastened his cufflinks.
Zara nodded without a word; her bloodshot eyes locked onto the Silo sisters. The twins were strikingly beautiful, with long black hair tied into ponytails. The elder had freckles scattered across her face like specks of sand, while the younger had flawless skin and cherry-red lips.
The elder twin summoned a flurry of talismans from her inventory, which spun around her like a protective barrier. Meanwhile, the younger one drew a silver flute from her inventory.
“Uh... on second thought, I’ll take the one with the flute,” Slim muttered sheepishly, halting mid-stride. Zara shot a quick glance at the skeleton, barely resisting the urge to smack his bony head, before refocusing on her target. Without warning, she charged toward the elder sister at lightning speed. The cultivator immediately sprinted deeper into the forest; Zara hot on her heels.
Slim turned his attention back to the younger twin, a playful grin plastered on his eerie face. “Your sister must really trust you to leave you alone with me,” he teased.
“I could say the same about your companion abandoning you to me,” she retorted. “A wretched creature like you doesn’t deserve to live. Let me put you out of your misery,” she taunted, smirking.
“Before we begin, let me ask you something,” Slim said, loosening his tie and taking a step forward.
Shina frowned, but curiosity crept in. What could the skeleton possibly want to ask?
“Are you a musician?” Slim asked, his grin widening.
Shina’s curiosity instantly morphed into irritation, then fury. She raised the flute to her lips. “You’ll find out in the afterlife,” she hissed, and began to play.
A haunting, melancholic melody poured from the serpent-shaped silver flute. Instantly, the temperature plummeted, and ghostly green flames flickered into existence within the rapidly freezing area. Slim watched intently as specters materialized from the eerie flames, while rotting hands burst through the ground, summoning an army of corpses.
“What a lovely tune,” Slim remarked, gently bobbing his head to the chilling music.
Shina frowned but didn’t let up on the haunting melody of the dead. Within moments, a battalion of corpses and specters, cloaked in greenish flames, heeded her call. Then, abruptly, the music stopped.
She grinned, wiping the beads of sweat from her brow, ignoring the constant explosions echoing around her. The other cultivators were out of sight, likely engaged in their own battles. I should end this quickly and join Laqua to finish off that bitch, Shina thought with a smirk, confident that her sister might already have the upper hand. Her gaze locked onto Slim.
The skeleton’s earlier smile had vanished, replaced by a cold, simmering anger. Shina's lips curled into another smirk; her eyes gleaming with mockery. "Where did all that confidence go?" she taunted. “It’s too early to be angry—this is only the beginning—”
“I suspend all laws within my domain,” Slim interrupted, his voice cold and unnervingly deep.
Suddenly, the air filled with the haunting notes of an organ, accompanied by eerie, passionate whispers. Thick black miasma enveloped Slim’s form, and the ground trembled beneath them. Shina stumbled backward, her eyes widening as skeletons clawed their way out of the earth. Singing ghouls, elegantly dressed wraiths, and formless entities embodying death itself materialized in grotesque harmony, towering over the battlefield.
The cocoon of miasma around Slim dissolved, revealing him in full regalia—a towering, undead conductor wielding a bone baton. He raised one hand, and the symphony abruptly ceased.
Shina stared, frozen in place. Though he appeared to be a mere skeleton in a suit, she knew better. Her trembling blue eyes reflected something far more terrifying—the overwhelming presence of an all-powerful being. She wanted to speak, but her voice betrayed her, and even the green flames that cloaked her summoned minions flickered as if cowed by the entity before them.
"W-what sort of abomination are you?" she stammered; her body paralyzed.
Slim’s empty eye sockets swirled with a brilliant grey mist as he smiled, sending a fresh wave of terror through her. “Let me play you a song,” he said, his voice a chilling mix of menace and serenity.
With a deliberate motion, Slim lowered his baton, and delirious, hypnotic music filled the air. The earth and vegetation visibly withered, shriveling beneath the weight of the song. Shina’s undead minions howled in anguish, the flames enveloping them flaring wildly as though in fear of being snuffed out. Slim moved like a maestro, conducting his spectral orchestra with precision, his hands rising and falling with the tempo of the ghostly choir.
Ghoulish screams echoed, but they were drowned by the choir’s passionate lament. One by one, Shina’s summons exploded into a grotesque mess of blood and ash, their remnants absorbed by Slim and his orchestra, leaving only a formless, eerie mass in their wake.
Unlawfully taken from Royal Road, this story should be reported if seen on Amazon.
Shina, once brimming with confidence, trembled where she stood, her body shuddering in time with the relentless, ominous melody. What’s happening to me? she thought, her panic rising as she noticed colorful gases escaping from her nose and mouth in thick streams, draining her life force.
Her once lustrous hair had turned grey, and her youthful face, once untouched by time, now looked ravaged, with her vibrant skin dried and cracked as though withering away.
I have to get out of here. I’ll die if this goes on. But no matter how desperately she willed her body to move, she remained frozen, helpless, as the life slowly drained from her.
Slim continued to conduct the eerie choir, their ghostly voices swelling in volume under his direction. Shina’s summoned creatures had long since vanished, their essence—including the green flames—absorbed by Slim and his spectral orchestra. Meanwhile, Shina herself had been reduced to a withered old woman, barely clinging to life. Formless gases seeped continuously from her body, and she was powerless to stop it.
With only a shallow breath left, the music ceased. The once-beautiful woman collapsed face-first onto the ground. A skeleton stepped forward, prying the ornate flute—miraculously untouched by Slim’s performance—from her grasp. The skeleton returned to Slim’s side, and, as if on cue, the ghostly orchestra faded into nothingness, leaving Slim back in his usual form.
He approached Shina’s crumpled body, nudging her over with his foot. Crouching down, he stared into the face of the once radiant woman, now reduced to the brink of death.
“Tell me where you learned the intro to the Hymn of the Dead, and I’ll ensure your soul isn’t eternally condemned,” Slim said, his voice cold and commanding.
Shina, her eyes locking onto the swirling mist in Slim’s empty sockets, felt tears streak down her withered cheeks. A strange sense of clarity washed over her in her final moments.
“Prince of... death,” she croaked, her voice fragile. “It was beautiful,” she whispered, before the light in her eyes faded away forever.
Slim frowned, his gaze hardening as he stared at her lifeless body. She shouldn’t know that name... no one should, he mused, unsettled.
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Meanwhile, Zara spat out a taunt, her eyes narrowing as she chased Laqua through the dense forest. "Is running all you're good at?"
Laqua remained silent, ignoring Zara as she darted deeper into the woods. An array of floating talismans hovered around the cultivator, forming a protective barrier. Occasionally, one of the talismans shot toward Zara, but the feline easily dodged each attack with her sharp reflexes.
Does this woman ever run out of those things? Zara thought, evading another talisman. The chase had lasted only seconds, but Laqua had already thrown over two dozen talismans her way. And every time, fresh talismans appeared to replace the spent ones.
Why does it feel like I'm being led into a trap? Zara wondered; her eyes locked on the cultivator. Suddenly, the sound of a flute echoed through the trees.
Huh? Where is that coming from? Zara’s thoughts stalled as she noticed Laqua had stopped running. The feline observed her opponent closely, frowning as the air around the cultivator seemed to shift.
"Tired of running, huh?" Zara taunted, her body coiling in preparation for a fight.
Laqua swiftly pulled out two talismans. The first burned with a crimson radiance, while the second emitted a glowing amber light as it crumbled to ash.
Aga'dz’s strings manifested around Zara, though they remained imperceptible to the naked eye. What are those for? Zara wondered; staring at the talismans as her curiosity piqued. Before she could contemplate further, Laqua surged forward with alarming speed—far faster than during her retreat.
Zara’s pupils dilated as Laqua appeared before her in an instant, her legs wrapped in crimson light, her fists glowing amber as she aimed a strike at Zara’s skull.
Ah, I see what’s happening, Zara thought. She’s using those talismans to boost herself. A grin tugged at Zara's lips as Laqua's fist came ever closer.
Just as Laqua launched her attack, she twisted mid-strike, swiftly dodging to the side. Bullet-sized holes tore through the space she had just vacated. The talisman user sensed an ominous presence watching her, though its source was elusive.
This fur creature is dangerous, Laqua thought, frowning. Any mistake could mean instant death. I need to finish this quickly and get to Shina. If that conniving old man or that sword maniac reaches her first...
Standing upright, Laqua met Zara’s confident grin with cold determination. “I’ll end this now,” she declared, reaching for another talisman. As soon as it burned in her hand, Laqua's form vanished, along with the floating talismans surrounding her. At that moment, the talismans she had flung toward Zara while fleeing ignited, releasing clouds of thick smoke.
Zara's grin faded as the dense smoke engulfed the area, obscuring the vegetation. The field thickened, and, strangely, Zara’s senses dulled.
"Accept your death," Laqua’s voice echoed from behind her. Instead of retreating, Zara charged toward the sound. A sharp bang followed, but the heavy smog concealed what had transpired.
"Perceptive, or was that just luck?" Laqua's voice came again, her tone taunting.
Zara, however, frowned deeper. This could become a problem if it drags out. I hate fighting illusionists, she thought, her irritation growing. Looks like I’ve got no choice. Zara let out a heavy sigh, her head tilting unnaturally to the side.
Hidden in the smog, Laqua hesitated. What is she doing?
Zara’s body slackened, her head jerking from side to side as though something else had taken control of her. The talisman user watched cautiously, but the feline didn’t move, continuing her bizarre head motions, as if searching for something unseen.
I can’t waste more time, Laqua thought, but her caution remained. She touched another talisman, igniting it with a flicker of purple miasma that vanished into the mist. Without hesitation, she hurled it toward Zara. The talisman only flew a few inches before it stopped in midair, as though caught by an invisible force.
Laqua’s eyes widened in shock. Impossible, she thought, panic creeping into her mind.
Zara’s head snapped mechanically in her direction, her eyes locking onto Laqua with unnatural precision. Instinctively, Laqua took a step back, her legs trembling as she met the puppeteer’s gaze.
“D-Demon,” she stammered, barely able to force the words out. Her hand moved toward another talisman, but it halted midway, her body frozen. Alarms blared in her mind.
She shifted her gaze, but Zara had vanished. Before she could process what was happening, a voice rasped behind her, sharp and cruel. "So, this is where you were hiding. I wonder how many of those talismans you can handle."
What does she mean? Laqua wondered, dread filling her. Then, she felt it—thin, invisible strings tightening around her body, embedding themselves into her flesh, burrowing deep into her organs. Her limbs moved without her will, reaching for the remaining talismans with inhuman speed and precision. She ignited each one, forcing the burning talismans into her mouth.
No... Laqua pleaded silently, tears streaming down her face. One by one, the talismans were consumed, the pile quickly depleting. Still, her hand kept stuffing the burning papers down her throat. Her body began to swell, grotesquely expanding to ten times its size. In the next instant, she exploded, a violent eruption of blood, bone, and flesh mingled with the fragments of burning talismans.
The blast cleared the smoke, revealing a massive crater amidst the shattered landscape, vegetation drenched in gore and human remains. Zara, unscathed, was already making her way back to the others. At the same moment, a distant sound carried through the air—the crackle of lightning and the haunting wail of an infant.