C4 Chapter 4 - The Currency of Bones

Now, he just had to survive the night.

The thought hung in Astrea's mind, heavy and ominous, as he leaned back against the cold obsidian of the dais. He closed his eyes, willing his body to shut down, to accept the reprieve of sleep.

But sleep was a distant country, and he had no passport.

The adrenaline of the summoning was fading, replaced by a jagged, nervous energy that twitched in his limbs. The silence of the crypt wasn't peaceful; it was heavy. It pressed against his eardrums, filled with the faint, rhythmic scratch-scratch-scratch of Malphas's quill on parchment and the distant, unsettling drip-drip of condensation falling from the vaulted ceiling into unseen pools.

Astrea opened one eye.

Malphas was floating near the row of sarcophagi, muttering to himself as he cataloged the dust. To the undead Seneschal, Astrea probably looked like he was resting. In reality, Astrea was staring at the air, his eyes focused on something only he could see.

"System," Astrea whispered, the word barely a breath. "Status."

A translucent blue screen flickered into existence, hovering in the darkness before him. Malphas didn't react. The Lich continued his inventory, completely oblivious to the glowing interface that dominated Astrea's vision. To the inhabitants of Arcanum Prime, the "System" was an invisible god.

Astrea scanned his reflection in the digital mirror.

[HOST STATUS]

Name: Astrea Vance (formerly Aethel)

Race: Human (Soul-Bound)

Class: The Sovereign (Unique)

Level: 1

EXP: 0 / 100

[ATTRIBUTES]

* STR (Strength): 6 (F) – Weak. Below average adult male.

* AGI (Agility): 9 (E) – Average coordination.

* VIT (Vitality): 7 (E) – Poor stamina. Fragile.

* INT (Intelligence): 18 (C) – Enhanced mental processing.

* MAG (Magic): 12 (D) – High latent potential.

* Aura (MP): 0 / 100 (Regenerating: 1/hour)

[SKILLS]

* [Soul Harvest (Passive)]: Automatically collects a fragment of Aura from any enemy killed within a 10-meter radius. (+1 Aura per kill).

* [Shadow Step (Passive)]: Movement becomes silent in low-light conditions. Slight increase to dodge chance in darkness.

* [Aether Infusion (Lv 1)]: Coats a weapon or target in necrotic energy. Can heal Undead or damage Living. Cost: 50 Aura. (Current Status: UNUSABLE - Insufficient Aura).

[EQUIPMENT]

* [Rags of the Exile]: Defense +0.

* [Solarian Iron Collar]: Cursed Item. Reduces Magic Regeneration by 50%. Cannot be removed without a Key or Rank 3 Strength.

* [Rusty Iron Knife]: Damage +2. (Looted from the prison guard in memories, currently in belt).

Astrea stared at the numbers, a cold knot tightening in his stomach.

It was worse than he thought.

Strength 6? He was physically weaker than a common goblin. Vitality 7 meant a single solid hit from a sword or even a heavy fist would likely kill him. And the Solarian Iron Collar... that explained the constant, throbbing headache and the sluggish feeling in his veins. He was being choked by his own equipment, a parting gift from the Empire that was actively keeping him helpless.

He looked at his Active Skills. He had exactly one: Aether Infusion. And it cost 50 Aura. With his current regeneration rate halved by the collar, he would need fifty hours to cast it once naturally.

He was a Sovereign with no army, no mana, and the physical durability of a wet paper towel.

"Problem, Master?"

Astrea jumped slightly. Malphas had floated closer, peering at him with a mix of curiosity and condescension. The Lich was looking right through the System window, focusing on Astrea's face.

"You are making faces," Malphas noted dryly. " grimacing at the air. Is it the smell? I admit, the previous tenants did not prioritize ventilation."

"I am thinking," Astrea lied, waving his hand to dismiss the screen. Malphas watched the hand wave, likely thinking Astrea was swatting a fly. "About our survival."

"A valid concern," Malphas agreed, drifting back to his work. "Considering you have the muscle mass of a malnourished bird."

Astrea ignored the jab, mostly because it was accurate. He stood up, his legs cramping from the hard stone. He pulled the rusty knife from his belt. It was a jagged piece of junk, the metal pitted and stained. He hadn't used it in combat yet, Shroud had done all the killing.

"I need to move," Astrea muttered. "If I sit here, I'll freeze."

He walked to an open space between two pillars. The violet light of the Exile's Stone cast long, dancing shadows.

"Malphas," Astrea said. "You've seen warriors fight. The Imperial Guard. The Knights."

"I have seen them die, mostly," Malphas corrected. "But yes. I am familiar with their flailing."

"Critique me."

Astrea gripped the knife. He closed his eyes, trying to access the memories of Aethel's fencing lessons. Stance. Balance. Extension.

He lunged, stabbing the air.

"Terrible," Malphas said instantly, not even looking up from his book.

Astrea gritted his teeth. "You didn't even look."

"I heard your foot drag," Malphas drawled. "You overextended. Your center of gravity is too high. If you fought a goblin like that, he would bite your kneecaps off before you finished the thrust."

Astrea reset his stance. The frustration bubbled up, the anger of Astrea, the shame of Aethel. He channeled it.

Again.

He slashed. Whoosh.

"Better?" Astrea breathed.

"You exposed your ribs," Malphas sighed, turning a page. "A spearman would have skewered you. You are fighting like a duelist, Master. This is not a duel. You are in a crypt. Fight like a rat."

Fight like a rat.

Astrea looked at the knife. It wasn't a sword. It was a shiv.

He crouched lower. He stopped trying to be elegant. He slashed low, gutted high. He imagined Bull's massive frame in front of him. He imagined the mercenaries.

For an hour, the only sound in the crypt was Astrea's ragged breathing and the swish of the rusty blade cutting the stale air. Sweat dripped down his nose. The iron collar rubbed his neck raw. His muscles, unused to this strain, screamed in protest.

Stab. Twist. Retreat.

Slash. Dodge. Stab.

He wasn't gaining System proficiency, he didn't have the Aura or the skill books. He was building muscle memory. He was forcing Aethel's soft, pampered body to understand the geometry of violence.

"Adequate," Malphas admitted finally, floating down to hover at eye level. "You no longer look like a panicked chicken. You look like a desperate vagrant. It is an improvement."

Astrea wiped his forehead, his chest heaving. "High praise from a corpse."

BOOM.

The sound was not subtle. It was a heavy, wet thud against the Obsidian Doors.

Astrea froze, the knife raised. The silence of the crypt shattered.

"Shroud?" Astrea whispered, hope flaring.

"Too early," Malphas hissed, his demeanor shifting instantly from bored bureaucrat to panicked coward. He floated higher, toward the ceiling shadows. "Shroud moves like smoke. That... that was a battering ram."

BOOM.

The doors shuddered. Dust rained down from the archway. A low, vibrating growl echoed from the other side, a sound that vibrated in Astrea's teeth.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[BASE UNDER ATTACK]

[ENEMY DETECTED: MOSS-WOLF PACK (LVL 2)]

"Wolves," Astrea hissed, reading the red warning text. "They smelled us."

"They smelled you," Malphas corrected, pressing himself flat against a gargoyle near the roof. "Living flesh in a dead crypt. You are a beacon, Master! A dinner bell!"

"How many?"

"I sense... three life signatures. Maybe four. The doors are reinforced, but the hinges... the stone around them is still old. They will break through."

Astrea looked at the massive stone doors. The magical glyphs Malphas had inscribed were glowing, trying to hold the seal, but the stone frame was cracking.

He checked his Aura. 1.

He checked his Strength. 6.

He was alone. Shroud was miles away. The Scavengers were with Shroud.

"Malphas, can you fight?" Astrea shouted, backing up toward the dais.

"I am an Administrator!" Malphas shrieked indignantly. "My combat rating is F-minus! Do I look like I brawl with livestock? I can organize their corpses after you kill them!"

"Useless," Astrea spat. He gripped the rusty knife. His hand was slick with sweat.

Think. You are the Sovereign. You have the terrain.

The doors were the bottleneck. If they broke through, they would have to squeeze past the rubble.

"Malphas," Astrea shouted, his voice steady despite the fear clawing at his throat. "The torches! Can you control the fire?"

"I... I can manipulate the ambient mana to flare them, yes. But I cannot shoot fireballs!"

"Good enough! When the door opens, flare the torches in their faces. Blind them. Buy me a second."

"And then?"

"And then I pray."

CRACK.

The stone around the left hinge gave way. The reinforced obsidian door groaned, a sound like a dying whale, and fell inward. It crashed onto the stone floor with a deafening noise that shook the entire crypt.

Dust billowed up, a thick grey curtain.

Through the haze, glowing red eyes appeared.

A massive shape stepped over the broken door. It was a Moss-Wolf. It was the size of a small pony, its fur matted with green moss and jagged fungi. Its teeth were yellow sabers, dripping with saliva.

It sniffed the air. It looked past the dust. It locked eyes with Astrea.

It didn't bark. It just launched itself.

"NOW!" Astrea screamed.

Malphas raised his quill, his skeletal hand trembling. "[MINOR FLARE]!"

The purple torches lining the walls exploded with light. A sudden flash of magnesium-bright violet filled the room, banishing the shadows.

The wolf yelped, a high-pitched sound of pain. It squeezed its eyes shut mid-air, its trajectory thrown off. It crashed blindly onto the dais, sliding across the polished stone, its claws scrabbling for purchase.

It stopped right at Astrea's feet.

Astrea didn't hesitate. He didn't think about his Strength stat. He thought about survival.

He leaped onto the wolf's back while it was still disoriented.

He grabbed a handful of greasy, mossy fur with his left hand to anchor himself. With a roar of effort, he drove the rusty knife down with his right hand, aiming for the neck.

SQUELCH.

The blade hit the thick hide... and stopped.

His Strength was too low. The rusty blade pierced the skin but hit the dense muscle underneath and stuck.

The wolf roared, thrashing. It bucked like a bronco.

Astrea was thrown off. He flew through the air and slammed hard into the stone floor. The impact knocked the wind out of him. His vision swam.

"Master!" Malphas shouted from the ceiling.

The wolf recovered. It shook its head, blinking away the blindness. It saw Astrea lying on the floor, gasping for air. It bared its teeth, a low rumble building in its chest.

Astrea scrambled backward, his hand searching for the knife. It was still stuck in the wolf's neck, bobbing uselessly.

He was unarmed.

The wolf lunged.

WHOOSH.

A blur of grey motion slammed into the wolf from the side.

There was a wet, sickening crunch.

The wolf was knocked sideways mid-air, tumbling across the room and smashing into a pillar with enough force to crack the stone.

Standing where the wolf had been was Shroud.

The Warden was covered in mud. His purple blindfold was stained black. But he stood like a statue of vengeance, his chest heaving, black fog pouring off his shoulders.

"I leave for one hour," Shroud hissed, his voice vibrating with a fury that made the air cold. "And you let the dogs in?"

The wolf tried to stand up, its side caved in, legs scrabbling.

Shroud didn't let it. He walked over, grabbed the wolf by the snout and the back of the neck, and twisted.

SNAP.

The wolf went limp.

[ENEMY DEFEATED]

[EXP GAINED: 10]

[AURA COLLECTED: +1]

Astrea gasped for breath, clutching his bruised ribs. He looked at the door. "There... were... more."

"Were," Shroud corrected. He gestured to the open doorway.

Two more wolf carcasses lay on the steps outside, their throats torn out. Shroud had killed the pack before entering.

Shroud walked over to Astrea and offered a pale hand. "Are you injured, Highness?"

"Just... bruised," Astrea wheezed, taking the hand. Shroud pulled him up effortlessly, as if he weighed nothing.

"I failed," Shroud said, bowing his head. The fog around him seemed to darken with shame. "I left the perimeter. I should have sensed the pack."

"You followed orders," Astrea rasped, dusting off his rags. "And you came back in time. Did you get the stone?"

Shroud nodded. He whistled.

Outside, the five Scavengers shuffled in. They were unharmed, carrying heavy chunks of black rock. They dumped them in a pile near the dais.

[RESOURCE GAINED: STONE x50]

"And the Aura?" Astrea asked. "Tell me you found something."

Shroud reached into a pouch at his belt. He pulled out a handful of glowing, blue orbs, the condensed souls of the Hollow-Men and the Wolves he had slaughtered in the mist.

He crushed them in his hand.

The blue mist swirled and flew into Astrea's chest, absorbed by the Aether Core within him.

[AURA GAINED: +20]

Astrea breathed in deep, feeling the headache from the collar recede slightly as the energy filled his reserves.

[AURA: 21 / 100]

He had enough.

"Malphas," Astrea called out, finding his knife (which Shroud had retrieved from the dead wolf) and sheathing it. "Come down. We have the stone. We have the Aura. Fix the damn door."

Malphas floated down from the ceiling, looking visibly relieved that the violence was over. He smoothed his robes. "With pleasure, Master. A door is the first step to civilization. And might I suggest a lock this time?"

Malphas opened his book. The pages flipped rapidly on their own.

"[ARCHITECT'S EYE: ACTIVATE]."

A glowing blue blueprint appeared over the broken doorway. Malphas began to chant in a language that sounded like grinding gears. The pile of 50 stones began to float. They dissolved into grey dust, swirling into the doorway.

The broken door lifted itself up. The stone fused back together, knitting like bone. The hinges repaired themselves, turning from rust to shining black iron.

Violet glyphs etched themselves into the surface of the doors, humming with power.

[BASE UPGRADE COMPLETE]

[REINFORCED OBSIDIAN DOORS (TIER 1)]

[DURABILITY: 500/500]

[EFFECT: MINOR WARD (Repels Level 1-2 Beasts)]

The doors slammed shut with a reassuring thud. The howl of the wind outside was instantly cut off.

Astrea slumped against the dais. "Safe."

"For now," Shroud said, taking up a guard position by the new doors. "But the wolves were scouts. The pack mother will come looking. Eventually."

"Not tonight," Astrea murmured. He looked at his status screen again.

[EXP: 10 / 100]

He had gained 10 EXP from the wolf Shroud killed inside. It confirmed a crucial mechanic: Shared Party Experience. Even if Shroud did the killing, Astrea got the growth, as long as he was present or the kill was in defense of the base.

"Shroud," Astrea called out.

"Highness?"

"You killed three wolves. And the Hollow-Men. How much stronger did you get?"

Shroud tilted his head. "I do not feel stronger. I feel... maintained."

Astrea checked Shroud's stats via the Unit Analysis.

[SHROUD - LEVEL 1]

[EXP: 40 / 600]

"You need a lot more death than I do," Astrea noted. 600 EXP to level up a Unique Unit. That was a grind.

"Malphas," Astrea turned to the Lich. "The wolf corpse. Can we use it?"

Malphas floated over to the dead Moss-Wolf in the center of the room. He poked it with his quill.

"The meat is toxic," Malphas analyzed. "But the bones... yes. Wolf bones are dense. And the pelts can be used for bedding. Or..." He looked at the Scavengers. "We could upgrade a Scavenger."

"Explain," Astrea said, sitting up.

"A Scavenger is just old human bones held together by weak magic," Malphas lectured. "But if we replace their arm bones with wolf bones... or fuse the wolf's skull to their chassis... we create a Wolf-Bone Scout. Faster. Stronger. And capable of biting."

"Do it," Astrea ordered. "We need a scout that won't die in one hit. And Shroud can't be everywhere."

Malphas beamed a horrific expression on a skull. "Surgery. Excellent."

He floated the wolf carcass over to the corner. He beckoned one of the Scavengers over.

"You. The one with the missing rib. Come here. You are getting an upgrade."

Astrea watched for a moment as Malphas began to dismantle the wolf with magical precision, snapping bones and weaving ligaments. He looked away. It was gruesome, practical, and necessary.

He looked at Shroud. The Warden was standing perfectly still by the door, listening to the darkness outside.

"Shroud," Astrea said softly.

"Highness."

"Sit down. Rest."

"The door must be watched."

"The door is reinforced. And I have eyes too." Astrea pointed to his own eyes. "Sit."

Shroud hesitated, then slowly sank into a cross-legged position on the floor, his back to the wall, his blindfold facing the entrance.

Astrea pulled the tattered cloak he was wearing tighter around himself. It was cold. He was hungry. He was in a crypt with a monster and a mad scientist.

But he was alive.

"System," Astrea whispered. "Show me the Skill Tree."

The massive web of skills appeared in his mind. He looked at the Soul tree. Most were locked behind Level barriers or massive Aura costs. But there was one, a Tier 1 Active Skill, that was illuminated.

[Wraith Bind (Active)]: Summons weak spectral hands to slow down an enemy's movement speed by 30% for 3 seconds. Cost: 10 Aura.

"Crowd control," Astrea muttered. "If I had that, I could have slowed the wolf."

He checked his reserves. 21 Aura. He could afford it.

[UNLOCK SKILL: WRAITH BIND?]

[COST: 10 AURA]

"Yes."

[SKILL ACQUIRED: WRAITH BIND (LVL 1)]

A cool sensation washed over his brain. He suddenly knew the hand signs. He knew the feeling of calling spectral chains from the ground. It wasn't muscle memory; it was soul memory.

He closed the menu. He needed rest.

"Tomorrow," Astrea announced to the room. "We clear the rest of the crypt. Malphas said there are lower levels."

"The Bone Pit," Malphas said from his surgical corner, snapping a wolf rib in half with a wet crunch. "Yes. The lower levels contain the ancestral remains. Better quality bones. But also... stronger ghosts."

"Ghosts I can kill," Astrea said, looking at his hand, imagining the violet energy. "I can't punch a wolf, but I can stab a ghost."

He lay down on the hard stone of the dais. It was uncomfortable, but exhaustion dragged him down like a heavy blanket.

"Shroud," Astrea murmured, drifting off.

"Highness?"

"Wake me if the door opens."

"I will wake you," Shroud promised, "with the head of whatever opened it."

Astrea smiled faintly.

The Sovereign slept.

The "morning" marked only by the Aether Core pulsing a slightly brighter violet brought with it the grim reality of labor.

Astrea woke up stiff. His neck popped loudly as he sat up.

"Breakfast," Malphas announced, floating over. He held out a tray. On it was... nothing.

"We have no food," Malphas said helpfully. "I just wanted to maintain the ritual of mealtime. It keeps morale high."

Astrea stared at him. "You woke me up to serve me a plate of air?"

"It is gourmet air, Master. Filtered through the finest dust in the crypt. Very vintage."

"I hate you," Astrea groaned, standing up. His stomach growled loudly, a painful reminder of his mortal needs. "Water?"

"The spring outside is safe," Shroud said from the door. He hadn't moved all night. "I can fetch it."

"No," Astrea said. "We go out together. We need to clear the immediate area and find something edible."

He looked at the corner.

Standing there was a monstrosity.

It was the Scavenger Malphas had worked on. Its human arms had been replaced by the forelegs of the Moss-Wolf, complete with claws. Its skull was human, but it wore the upper jaw of the wolf like a helmet. It crouched on all fours, twitching.

[UNIT: WOLF-BONE SCOUT (LVL 2)]

[STR: 8

AGI: 12]

"It's ugly," Astrea commented.

"It is aerodynamic," Malphas defended. "I call him 'Fido'."

"Fido," Astrea sighed. "Fine. Fido, you're with us. Shroud, you take point. Malphas, stay here and manage the base. If the Aura ticks up, reinforce the walls."

"I shall count the dust motes until your return," Malphas sniffed.

"Let's go."

Astrea, Shroud, and the skeletal monstrosity Fido walked out of the Keep.

The mist was thinner this morning. The petrified trees looked like jagged teeth against the grey sky.

"We need food," Astrea said. "Real food. Not toxic wolf meat."

"There are berries in the thorn-thickets," Shroud suggested. "Black-blood berries. Bitter, but edible. I used to eat them during... training maneuvers."

"Lead the way."

They moved into the forest. Fido scampered ahead on all fours, moving surprisingly fast, sniffing the ground with its bone snout.

They walked for ten minutes. Astrea found a bush of the black berries. Shroud was right, they tasted like battery acid, but the System didn't register poison damage, and they dulled the hunger pangs.

"Stop," Shroud hissed suddenly.

Astrea froze, berry juice staining his lips. Fido stopped, his wolf-claw scratching the dirt.

"What is it?"

"Movement," Shroud whispered. "Not a beast. It feels... metallic."

Astrea focused on Shroud. Through their bond, he could vaguely sense what Shroud sensed, a heat signature. It wasn't an animal. It was a soldier.

And it was holding a sword.

"A soldier?" Astrea whispered. "Here?"

"An Imperial Scout," Shroud confirmed. "Lost. Or hunting."

Astrea's blood ran cold. If the Empire knew he was alive...

"Can we bypass him?"

"He has seen Fido," Shroud said grimly. "He is drawing his weapon."

Astrea stepped out from behind the tree.

Thirty yards away stood a man in dirty leather armor. He wore the crest of the Imperial Recon Corps. He looked terrified, staring at the skeletal wolf-man crouching in the mist.

"Necromancy!" the scout shouted, his voice cracking. He raised a pistol, not a weapon, but a signal flare gun.

"Do not let him fire that!" Astrea screamed.

Shroud was already moving. [Shadow Step].

He vanished into the mist.

But the scout was fast. He pulled the trigger.

POP.

A red flare shot up into the grey sky, burning bright against the clouds. It hissed as it reached its apex, bathing the forest in a blood-red light.

"Damn it!" Astrea cursed.

Shroud materialized behind the scout and snapped his neck before the man could draw his sword.

[ENEMY DEFEATED]

[EXP GAINED: 50]

But it was too late. The red flare hung in the sky, a bleeding eye looking down on them.

"They know," Shroud said, dropping the body. "Someone saw that."

"Who?" Astrea asked, running over to loot the body. "The Empire?"

"Or worse," Shroud said, looking at the flare. "The Knights of Ember. They patrol the border. If they see a distress flare... they come with fire."

Astrea quickly stripped the corpse.

[ITEM OBTAINED: RATIONS x2]

[ITEM OBTAINED: IRON SWORD (Common)]

[ITEM OBTAINED: MAP OF THE MARCHES]

"We have food," Astrea said, tossing a ration bar to Shroud (who caught it, though he didn't eat). Astrea tore his open and devoured the dry, tasteless biscuit in two bites.

"We need to get back to the Keep," Astrea said, chewing. "If the Knights are coming, we can't be caught in the open."

"Highness," Shroud warned, looking at the map Astrea held. "Look."

Astrea looked at the map. It showed the patrol routes.

The flare had been fired in Sector 4.

Directly adjacent to Sector 4 was a skull symbol marked on the map.

[THE BONE PIT].

"The flare didn't just alert the Knights," Shroud realized, his voice tightening. "The noise... the light... it wakes the dead."

The ground beneath their feet trembled.

From the direction of the Crypt, their home, a low, moaning horn sounded. It came from the deep underground.

It wasn't a warning. It was a hunting horn.

[SYSTEM ALERT]

[EVENT TRIGGERED: THE WAKING OF THE CENTURION]

[A LEVEL 5 BOSS HAS AWAKENED IN THE LOWER CRYPT.]

"We have to go back," Astrea said, his face pale. "Now. Malphas is alone in the crypt with a Boss waking up downstairs."

"Run," Shroud commanded.

They sprinted back through the mist. Fido loped alongside them.

They reached the Obsidian Doors. They were still closed.

"Malphas!" Astrea shouted, banging on the stone. "Open up!"

The doors groaned open.

Malphas was floating in the center of the room, looking frantic. The Scavengers were huddled in a circle, shivering.

"Master!" Malphas shrieked, flying over. "The floor! The floor is humming! Something is coming up from the basement!"

"I know," Astrea gasped, running to the dais. "The flare woke it up."

"A Centurion," Shroud said, standing by the entrance to the lower stairs, a dark archway in the back of the room that had previously been silent. Now, red light pulsed from it. "I can smell the rust. It is a Fallen Centurion of the Old Empire."

"Level 5," Astrea said. "We are Level 1. And Level 5 Bosses don't play fair."

"We have the high ground," Shroud said, drawing his shadow claws. "We ambush it at the door."

"No," Astrea said. He looked at his Aura. 11. Enough for one cast.

He looked at the room. The pillars. The Scavengers. Fido.

"I have a plan," Astrea said. He looked at Shroud. "You are the bait."

Shroud nodded. "As always."

"Malphas," Astrea turned to the Lich. "Can you buff?"

"I can cast [Minor Haste] on the Scavengers," Malphas offered, wringing his bony hands. "But they will shatter if he sneezes on them!"

"Do it. Make them a wall. Not to stop him, but to weigh him down."

"Fido," Astrea pointed to the wolf-skeleton. "You hide on the ceiling. Drop on him when I say."

Fido clicked his jaw and scrambled up the pillar, clinging to the shadows of the roof with his bone claws.

"He's coming," Shroud whispered.

THUMP. THUMP. THUMP.

Heavy, armored footsteps echoed up the stairs. The red light grew brighter. The smell of ancient rust filled the room.

A massive figure stepped through the archway.

It was seven feet tall. It wore the rusted, red armor of a Centurion. A tattered red cape hung from its shoulders. Its helmet was a skull-faced visage with burning red eyes. In its hands, it dragged a massive, jagged Greatsword that sparked against the stone.

[BOSS: THE FALLEN CENTURION (LVL 5)]

It looked at the room. It saw the Scavengers. It saw Shroud standing in the open.

It raised its sword and roared, a soundless, psychic scream that rattled the dust from the ceiling.

"Now!" Astrea shouted.

He stepped out from behind the dais. He raised his hand, channeling the Aura he had saved.

"[WRAITH BIND]!"

Spectral green chains erupted from the floor, wrapping around the Centurion's legs.

The Boss stumbled, its charge slowed to a crawl. It roared in annoyance, straining against the magic.

"Shroud! Cut his tendons!"

Shroud blurred forward. [Shadow Step]. He appeared behind the slow-moving giant and slashed at the back of its knees with void-claws.

SPARK.

The armor held. Shroud bounced off.

"Armor is too thick!" Shroud yelled, dodging a backhand swing.

The Centurion spun around, shattering the spectral chains with sheer strength. It swung the Greatsword.

Shroud ducked under the blade, which smashed into a stone pillar, taking a massive chunk out of it.

"Fido! Drop!"

The skeletal wolf dropped from the ceiling, landing on the Centurion's helmet. It bit down on the metal, scrabbling at the faceplate, scratching at the red eyes.

The Centurion thrashed, dropping one hand from its sword to grab the wolf.

"Malphas! The Scavengers! Swarm him!"

"Go, you idiots! Hug his legs!" Malphas commanded, waving his quill.

The ten skeletons rushed forward, imbued with Minor Haste. They piled onto the giant. They were weak, but they were heavy. They grabbed his boots, his cape, his sword arm.

The Centurion was buried under a pile of bones. It staggered, off balance.

"Astrea!" Shroud shouted. "The helmet! Fido cracked it!"

Astrea saw it. A hairline fracture in the skull-faceplate.

Astrea didn't think. He didn't check his stats. He ran.

He sprinted across the room, jumped off the back of a kneeling Scavenger, and launched himself into the air.

He held the rusty iron knife in both hands. He didn't have the Aura for Aether Infusion. He only had gravity and desperation.

He drove the knife into the crack in the helmet.

CRUNCH.

The blade sank deep into the skull.

Astrea twisted it.

The red light in the Centurion's eyes flickered. It went rigid. It dropped the Greatsword. It fell to its knees, shaking the room.

Then, it collapsed into a pile of red armor and dust.

[BOSS DEFEATED: THE FALLEN CENTURION]

[EXP GAINED: 500]

[LEVEL UP!]

[LEVEL UP!]

Astrea landed in the dust, rolling to break his fall. He lay there, gasping.

[NAME: ASTREA VANCE]

[LEVEL: 1 -> 3]

[STATUS RESTORED]

He looked up. Shroud was standing over the armor, breathing hard. Malphas was floating down, looking surprised they were alive. Fido was chewing on the helmet.

"We killed it," Astrea whispered.

Shroud kicked the empty chest plate. "A rusted relic. But it hit hard."

Malphas floated over to the dust. He picked up something that was glowing red.

[ITEM OBTAINED: CENTURION'S CORE (RANK 2)]

[ITEM OBTAINED: RUSTED GREATSWORD (UNCOMMON)]

"Master," Malphas said, his voice trembling with excitement. "This core... it is dense. We can use this."

"Use it for what?" Astrea asked, standing up. He felt stronger. His stats had bumped up.

"To summon a General," Malphas said. "Or... to forge a weapon for Shroud. Or evolve him."

Shroud looked at the core. He looked at Astrea.

"The choice is yours, Highness," Shroud said. "Army... or Champion?"

Astrea looked at the glowing red orb.

"We have an army of skeletons," Astrea said, looking at the pile of Scavengers reassembling themselves. "We need a killer."

He tossed the core to Shroud.

"Eat it."

Shroud caught the orb. He didn't hesitate. He brought it to his mouth and crushed it between his teeth.

Red energy swirled around him, mixing with his black fog.

[UNIT EVOLUTION TRIGGERED]

[SHROUD: UMBRAL WARDEN -> ???]

The shadows around Shroud grew denser, sharper. The purple blindfold seemed to absorb the red light.

"Good," Astrea smiled, the adrenaline finally fading into a satisfied exhaustion. "Now... Malphas. Get me that breakfast."