Act Nine: Battle of the Wight

Lesser Wights are proficient in two spells: Dark Curtain and Rotting Art. Both spells are dark magic with the element of 'evil'.

In the game, dark magic was brought to the continent by the Min'er People. The Min'er People were servants of the Twilight Dragon and lived on the frozen plateaus north of Cruz during the chaotic era before the First Era began.

The shamans of the Min'er People were skilled in spiritualism and witchcraft. Later, these two types of magic, along with all offensive spells outside the elemental, natural, and divine factions, were collectively referred to as dark magic.

After the Holy War, Gilt, King of Flames, drove these dark inhabitants to the cold East. It is said that no one has seen them since.

However, the Min'er People must exist. In the Black Codex, the dark lords exiled to Madara learned the heritage of witchcraft from these demonic offspring.

Despite this, calling Dark Curtain dark magic is somewhat misleading, as it is an auxiliary concealment spell. This spell happens to be able to mask the movements of a small squad of Skeleton soldiers.

Of course, it's not complete invisibility, disappearing entirely. You can imagine it as an illusion that blends with the dark background. Yes, it doesn't mask sound, smell, or anything beyond visual perception, and it's limited to a certain range.

But in the darkness of night, this spell becomes the best cover for Madara's undead army. This is also the main reason why Madara's army often chooses to operate at night.

As for Rotting Art, Freya and the others had already witnessed this terrifying dark magic once on Josen.

It is a malicious attack spell and the primary offensive method for Wights. It erodes enemies using negative energy. The more severe an enemy's negative emotions and the weaker their willpower, the deeper the spell damage they suffer.

Until death.

This spell, like most dark magic, manifests destructive power by amplifying negative forces.

Wielding mysterious dark magic and commanding mindless Skeleton soldiers—while also being stronger and inherently cunning and unpredictable—it seems Wights are an unconquerable enemy.

However, Sophie also knows a secret: Wights themselves do not possess the ability to cast spells. Their true power comes from the Bone Staff they hold, a powerful magical item unique to each Wight. Once it leaves their hand, it reverts to an ordinary stick.

Understanding this, one can figure out how to approach tactics around them.

As another Skeleton soldier fell, at Sophie's reminder, Freya, the most skilled swordswoman among the militia, and Essen flanked the Wight that was preparing a spell.

"Attack its hands. Witchcraft isn't as mysterious as you think," Sophie pointed out the undead monster's weakness from behind. "See its hand gestures? Hinder it from completing the spell, take its Bone Staff..."

The Wight suddenly raised its head and met Sophie's gaze, a malevolent glow flickering within the phosphorescent green fire. Sophie choked, her throat growing dry. He knew the Wight had fixated on him—but their protagonist quickly calmed down. This Wight couldn't bypass the militia to attack him.

Still, being stared at by a lifeless, cold monster was not a comfortable feeling. Sophie had to stop and wait for Freya and Essen's attack to take effect.

The Wight let out a sinister chuckle and shook its Bone Staff. The darkness around it rippled like waves and engulfed it. When Essen's longsword stabbed forward like a flash of snow, it struck empty air. The spot where the undead monster had been was now vacant.

"Huh?" the young man was slightly taken aback.

Sophie's expression remained unchanged. He was too familiar with these guys' tricks. "Essen, to your left!"

Essen didn't react immediately.

But Freya, catching up from behind, swung her sword straight down. The precious sword drew a straight silver line in the dim environment. It was about to reach the spot Sophie indicated, but before that, the Wight stumbled backward.

Everyone saw the shadow retreating like flowing water.

"Human, who are you! You're not some militia!" a sharp voice erupted from the shadows. The Wight seemed somewhat flustered.

Indeed, the militia couldn't possibly know so much. Some of what Sophie said was only circulated among wizards even in Madara.

But Sophie remained silent. Freya's second sword followed closely. Green light flickered in the Wight's eye sockets. It resentfully raised its Bone Staff to parry the girl's sword. The Wight possessed a strength of 1.7 energy levels, and Freya's strength was likely not higher than Brando's.

The ponytail girl's attack was easily diverted. She charged forward a few steps before stopping, instinctively clutching her left shoulder and frowning slightly.

Her previous arrow wound seemed to have reopened—

"Big sis, let Macmi handle it. Your injury..." Essen shouted, parrying the Wight's attack when he saw this.

Macmi and Little Finis caught up from behind.

"Little Finis, you get back!" But Freya drew her sword across, blocking the young brat, and ordered sternly.

"But I'm militia too!" the boy shouted indignantly.

"Get back, did you hear me—!"

Little Finis's face turned red and his neck bulged with anger, but even so, he didn't dare disobey Freya's command. Among their group of young people, Freya had always been the leader. The girl was kind-hearted and had her own convictions, so everyone respected such a captain.

Sophie shook his head from behind. The battlefield was no place for arguments. However, the ponytail girl's persistence earned his favor. Girls like her were rare in his world.

"All four of you go together," he said from behind.

"Mr. Brando, you—!" Freya took a breath and couldn't help but look back at the young man lying on the rock—Romane was still by his side, looking at them innocently and even winking at her.

That darn girl, she'd already defected so quickly!

She couldn't help but feel annoyed.

"Wights are tricky enemies. The four of you can cover each other," Sophie replied earnestly.

"But Little Finis..."

"He's militia too."

Freya bit her lip. She looked back; Macmi and Essen were already being pushed back under the Wight's attack. If that undead monster found an opportunity to cast its spell, this team might suffer more casualties.

That was not something she could bear.

Thinking this, she could only nod: "Alright."

"Hooray! Brando, you're amazing!" Little Finis shouted, drawing his longsword immediately. But Freya grabbed his collar from behind and pulled him back, sternly ordering, "You stay with me. Don't go beyond my cover range, understand—"

"Oh..." came a disappointed voice.

With Freya and Little Finis joining the battle, the situation immediately reversed. She and Essen were already the outstanding sword experts among Bucci's current militia. To everyone's surprise, Little Finis was no less skilled—in Sophie's words, this child had strong offensive intent and his sword strokes were decisive and precise. It wasn't like Eluin Military Swordsmanship, which pursued an integration of offense and defense, but more like Cruz's Aggressive Battle Formation Swordsmanship.

But from any perspective, as a veteran warrior, this was already an extremely high evaluation.

Sophie thought that perhaps when Little Finis grew to be as old as Brando, his swordsmanship would likely not be inferior at all, though perhaps a little lacking in spiritual depth—because Brando seemed born for battle.

He sometimes wondered if that young man from history, had he not died and instead grown through the war, would his eventual achievements have been any less brilliant than Freya's?

Alas, life is unpredictable, and history has no "what ifs."

Of course, the most crucial element in this battle was the young man's interjections and reminders. Sophie seemed to have seen through the Wight's thoughts entirely, pointing out even the slightest intention.

What was it trying to do?

Why was it doing that?

Was it preparing a spell?

When should it be interrupted?

The Wight grew increasingly alarmed as the fight progressed. Undead didn't feel fear, but they could still be flustered. In the end, it almost shrieked, "Who exactly are you, Necromancer? Or Black Knight?"

This question was met with an unsparing sword strike from Freya, and its clawed hand, gripping the Bone Staff, flew high into the air. The monster let out a pained cry, the green fire in its sunken eye sockets dimming.

"Damn humans..."

The battle finally concluded with Macmi's by-the-book sword strike. The Wight, already overwhelmed, had both its hands and Bone Staff shattered before it let out a resentful howl, watching helplessly as the gleaming blade sliced into its skull.

With a crack, the soul fire exploded from its body. This was the monster's final counterattack, but thanks to Sophie's warning, only Essen, who was slightly slower to dodge, suffered a minor burn on his right hand.

On the other side, the others had also dealt with the remaining two skeletons at the cost of one person sustaining an injury. As the forest returned to silence, only the wind rustling through the treetops could be heard.

Everyone couldn't help but stop and look at each other.

Including Freya, everyone wore expressions of disbelief. They had actually won, facing four Skeleton Soldiers and a terrifying Wight.

Macmi's sword clattered to the ground first, followed by a chain reaction from the others. People couldn't help but hug each other, shouting and yelling, some even weeping to release their emotions.

Surviving near-death experiences left one feeling somewhat dazed.

Sophie, however, grew quiet. He looked up and saw three golden lights fly from the darkness and merge into his chest. It seemed no one around noticed this detail, not even Romane, who stood beside him.

The merchant lady looked relieved.

Huh, can only he see this? Sophie couldn't help but feel a bit strange.

He glanced around and instinctively opened his character status, just as he had done in 'The Amber Sword.' After a battle ended, Sophie always reviewed his gains and losses first.

Lines of emerald numbers immediately appeared on his retina—

Strength 1.1, Dexterity 2.0, Constitution 1.0, Intelligence 1.1, Willpower 1.3, Perception 1.0.

Absolute Strength 3.5, Element (Unawakened)—

Brando, Human Male, Level 1 (Strength System: Physical, Melee; Talent: Unyielding)

XP: 4 (Commoner Level 1: —, Militia Level 2, 6/10)

Life (Weakened, Near Death): 10% (Bandaged State, Recovers 1 Life Per Day)

Job (Idle Skill Experience 1)—

Commoner [Basic Knowledge (Level 1), Geographical Knowledge (Level 0), Local Knowledge (Level 1)]

Militia [Military Swordsmanship (Level 1), Grappling Techniques (Level 1), Tactical Theory (Level 0), Military Organization (Level 0)]

The attributes that had changed were Strength and Constitution, indicating that his physical fitness had improved through the training (leveling up) of the Militia profession.

Then, Absolute Strength increased by 2.5 levels, primarily from the Wind Queen Ring's 1 point of Dexterity increase, with the physical attribute changes being secondary.

Finally, in this battle, he only gained four experience points from the four Skeleton Soldiers and one Wight. This was only half of the expected experience. Sophie thought for a moment and finally had to conclude—Party Penalty.

This was simply absurd. How could such a thing exist in the real world? However, as a gamer, he had no specialized knowledge to explain all this. After all, compared to this, transmigration itself was an even more absurd event.

Wasn't it?

At first, he wanted to figure out how the party penalty was calculated here, but he quickly realized it was futile, as it seemed to have no relation to that game at all.

"Lady Martha, thank goodness my nerves are a bit thick..." He couldn't help but touch his forehead with a headache.

But then Sophie stared at his Militia level and hesitated. To be honest, he didn't really want to invest more experience into this profession. The uselessness of the Militia didn't need to be described in words; it was so bad that it was always called the NPC-exclusive profession.

In his previous life, he could never have imagined that he would waste experience on this profession one day.

And he even chose the Unyielding talent!

Martha above, there were too many suitable talents for a warrior, and Unyielding was precisely the most unfavorable one. This skill could allow him to survive a fatal physical blow, but he would only have five minutes to settle his affairs unless he received powerful enough healing before then.

But so far, he hadn't seen any item more effective than bandages for restoring life, considering that in the game, these things were everywhere.

However, Sophie didn't regret it much. After all, this skill had saved his life, hadn't it?

But the current situation was the same. In reality, he couldn't find a way to take on other professions for the time being. And he urgently needed strength, so the only remaining option was to continue down the path of the Militia profession—

Sophie couldn't help but feel a bit depressed for a moment.

Did he have to go from a veteran warrior to a veteran commoner? Hey, wasn't the warrior class already cannon fodder enough!