The Dead

This was a war hidden within the darkness—dark, silent, and intense.

Outwardly, the cold, ancient mansion seemed no different than usual, but the occasional flash of light from the windows revealed that the place was far from the tranquility one might imagine.

Star Trace flashed.

The pristine white blade whistled through the air, the gale it stirred sweeping up the scattered debris as it flew forward. Crimson flames followed closely behind, growing more violent with the help of the wind. The evil spirits emerging from the walls and floors were completely consumed before they could even launch an attack, leaving nothing behind but charred, blackened marks.

Rhode and the Flame Slayer were developing an increasingly tacit understanding. This mission was not merely for Lize to hone her abilities; it was also for Rhode to synchronize himself with his summoned creatures. After all, summon cards were ever-changing, and the three he currently held were items he had never possessed in the game. While there were similar substitutes, the characteristics of each differed, making it essential to seize every opportunity to adjust and refine their coordination. The previous encounter with Sereck was a prime example; the result had been a stalemate. If Rhode hadn't been so unfamiliar with the Flame Slayer's skills at the time, relying only on his inherent experience to command it, he might have held the upper hand.

Unfortunately, there were no "ifs" in life, but it was not too late to make amends.

Rhode withdrew his sword, and the evil spirits, sensing an opening, swarmed forward. However, a black hound immediately blocked their path, its sharp claws and flames filling the gap left by Rhode's retreat.

One advance, one retreat—perfectly timed.

Flames swept across the area once more, engulfing the evil spirits. These low-level spirits were not even as strong as the Wraith in the Mist Ruins, but they served as perfect practice dummies.

Close to Rhode, Lize wore a solemn expression. Her right hand waved continuously, and pillars of light descended from the sky like heavy hammers, pounding against the evil spirits. It had to be said that the little Spirit Master's learning ability was truly impressive; in less than an hour, she had already mastered the basics and was beginning to experiment with adjusting the intensity, speed, and power of her spells.

However, Rhode knew this was merely an emergency measure. While power itself had no morality, it required definition. Just like a stone: only when it possessed the title of "stone" did it hold the significance of an object existing in this world. Magic incantations were the same; what the ancient languages passed down was not just mysterious knowledge, but the definition and exploration of mystery itself. Water was water, and ice was ice; if one treated water as ice or ice as water, the results would naturally be disastrous.

Lize was currently at this stage. Not yet level ten, she had no opportunity to learn offensive holy spells like the Sword of Judgment, but that did not mean her potential would be wasted. Her angelic bloodline could compensate for the weakness caused by "blurred definition," and from a long-term perspective, letting Lize adapt to the rhythm of combat early on was a sound choice.

"Keep your focus and watch the rhythm. The evil spirits aren't fast, but you must watch your own safety. Among the undead, there are many who excel at ranged attacks, for example... to the left!"

Rhode grabbed Lize by the collar and yanked her aside just as an Azure Green light arrow grazed her body and embedded itself in the wall. Looking toward the depths of the dark corridor, several skeletons stood there, gripping rusted iron bows and arrows, coldly aiming at their prey. Within their empty eye sockets, soul-fire flickered.

It had arrived, just as expected.

Rhode tightened his grip on his longsword. If it were merely evil spirits, this dilapidated house wouldn't have been left untouched for so many years. Deepstone City was full of powerful individuals; even a Shining Swordsman could clear this place solo. But this house was not that simple... and now, the real trouble was beginning.

"Lize, Shield of Protection!"

As Rhode spoke, he raised his longsword and pointed his left hand forward. Following his command, the Flame Slayer sprinted ahead, passing through the encirclement of evil spirits and charging straight toward the Skeleton Archers in the rear.

"Whoosh! Whoosh!"

Arrows radiating azure light were fired once more, but with the Shield of Protection deployed, they could only graze the golden barrier and fly off at an angle, unable to pose any further threat.

Rhode shifted his sword, dispersing the evil spirits surrounding him, and then grabbed Lize's hand.

"Follow me, and keep yourself protected."

Without waiting for Lize's reply, Rhode led her out of the encirclement and sprinted toward the staircase on the left.

After another volley of arrows, the black hound had already reached the Skeleton Archers. Its figure, wreathed in flames, was exceptionally conspicuous in the pitch-black corridor.

As ranged units, the Skeleton Archers were not dangerous at close quarters. Before they could prepare, they were pounced upon by the black hound, then shattered and scattered, posing no further threat. Those that managed to retreat were met by a second wave of attacks before they could launch another assault.

Third floor.

Rhode stepped onto the stairs, hearing the faint sounds of barking and the roar of flames from not far behind. He knew the Flame Slayer couldn't hold out for long. The "thing" that had sensed his intrusion would become even more frantic as danger approached, but that didn't matter. Summoned spirits were creatures that could be revived even after death; as long as his soul power was sufficient, there would be no problem.

"M-master, you don't intend to burn this place down, do you?"

Lize, finding a moment of respite, looked back at the flames and black smoke slowly rising in the corridor below, asking with some concern.

"Don't worry, I won't tear this place down. It is, after all, our base..."

Rhode cut himself off abruptly and raised his sword.

"Whoosh!"

A wild gust of wind whistled as a heavy greatsword swung horizontally, slamming into Rhode's blade and sending his slender frame crashing into the wall. Although the already decayed wall absorbed some of the impact, Rhode still sank deep into it.

"Attack!"

As soon as Rhode spoke, Lize, hiding beside him, immediately extended her hand. A white pillar of light descended from the sky, smashing into the head of the undead monster that had appeared at the top of the stairs to block their path. Unlike the previous evil spirits, this undead monster was clearly not easy to deal with; it only took a few steps back after Lize's attack, rather than dissipating like the others. However, a shocking hole appeared in its withered, rotting skull.

Only then did they see the enemy clearly.

It was a hulking man nearly two meters tall. His body was stripped of all flesh, with gray skin clinging to thick bone armor. He wore unrecognizable armor and gripped a greatsword. Lize's sudden attack forced him to loosen his grip, and he roared as he retreated. After all, holy power was something no undead, which existed by forcibly defying life and death, could withstand.

"This is..."

"It's a Rotting Corpse... I'll take the lead, watch the flanks."

Rhode swung his sword hard, parrying the greatsword. With a slight movement, he leaped onto the stair railing as lightly as a cat and sprang upward, his sword flipping and turning as he thrust it toward the giant's chest.

Just as Rhode was about to deliver the final blow, another longsword appeared from the side and slashed down. Someone had been lurking quietly in the corner of the wall, waiting for Rhode to appear before launching a surprise attack. At the same time, the undead monster in front of Rhode roared and lunged at him with open arms. Such a "kill a thousand, lose eight hundred" tactic was impossible for a human, but for the undead, there was no need for concern.

Facing the lunging undead, Rhode's expression remained as calm as water. He flipped his right hand, and ripples like flowing water appeared on his sword, which was dusted with stardust.

Blade Art, activated.

Just as the undead's hand grabbed Rhode's shoulder, his sword sliced through the creature's left shoulder without resistance. Under the influence of the Blade Art, the already sharp blade became unstoppable; neither the rough, dried skin nor the hard bone could impede its path. With a flash of white light, the left side of the tall mercenary undead's body was sliced off as easily as paper. The arm, losing its support, fell to the ground, unable to pose any further threat.

At that moment, the other longsword reached Rhode's side.

Seeing this, Lize's heart nearly jumped out of her chest. In fact, when the figure hidden in the corner had attacked, the girl following behind Rhode had seen him, but before she could shout a warning, the blade had already reached Rhode's ear. Two more seconds, and that rusted sword would have severed Rhode's head.

Yet, at that moment, Rhode performed an unexpected maneuver.

After slicing through the enemy's body, he did not choose to retreat. Instead, in that split second, Rhode leaned his body to the side, as if losing his balance, and slammed into the opponent's chest. The longsword that should have taken his head missed its target, slashing through empty air.

The stench of the corpse made Rhode pause for a moment, but he quickly regained his senses. Gritting his teeth, he used his shoulder to shove the giant creature aside, then continued his momentum, flicking his sword forward.

The blade of Moonlight swept through the air, carrying a whistling wind.

The bodies of the dead faltered for a moment.

Their movements ceased, and they stood blankly in place. Then, as pitch-black lines spread across their withered corpses, the chunks of flesh, no longer able to maintain their form, finally disintegrated.

"Whew..."

Rising from the pile of corpses, Rhode brushed the dust and grease from his shoulders, waving his hand to fan away the stench of decay lingering at the tip of his nose. In the game, they hadn't been so thorough as to simulate smells, but now that he was experiencing it firsthand, Rhode finally understood that the description of "Rotting Corpse possessing a potent, foul odor" was indeed well-deserved. It seemed that once he returned, he would have no choice but to throw away this set of clothes.

"Let's continue forward."