CHAPTER 77: KNIGHTLY BONES!

Immediately, Mel stood up with her arm raised to the side.

Mana materialised beneath her palm, her eyes darting around the room as she grasped the wooden staff.

[ Summon Series has evolved from Novice to Apprentice Rank! ]

Mel took a deep breath, her senses sharpened as her connection with other Realms deepened.

"Partner," she murmured cautiously, wary of enemies lurking nearby. "Where exactly are we, and how do I get out?"

[ Don’t be afraid, Mel. This is the Dream Realm! Something only a Master to an Archon-ranked enemy could conjure up. ]

"Oh. So you mean..."

Holding her chin in contemplation, Mel mused as she couldn’t imagine any enemy sprouting from the Royal or Holy Armies unless her identity was exposed, leaving only...

"The Witch Cult." Her eyes squinted as she stepped towards the door, still whispering. "Have they made their move already?"

[ Exactly. This is an operation to capture you, Mel! ]

"Hm..."

As she opened the door, Mel scanned the empty, wide corridor, its eerie silence stark against the bright stars dotting the ceiling and walls.

A single flickering light hung from the ceiling, humming a soft, melodic tune in the quiet air.

Mel stepped into the long shadows stretching across the floor, her features fading into the darkness.

"The Cult was not yet aware of what I am, right?"

[ Yep yep! ]

"But do they treat an asset like me so importantly that they were willing to invade a Saintess’s summon?"

The Witch’s voice remained light as she scanned her surroundings, before strolling towards the stairwell at the right.

[ Normally, no. But this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity for the Cult, given to them by your Saintess, truly! ]

"Mhm. Explain more?"

[ For that, I’ll leave it to... ah. There she is! ]

Frowning slightly at the Saintess’s ambiguity, Mel pouted slightly before steeled footsteps drummed in her ears.

A Royal Knight eventually emerged from the stairwell ahead, his steel armour catching a faint glow from the star-lit walls.

He moved with hurried grace up the stairs, his helmet tilting left and right until his gaze landed upon Mel.

"You there!"

Running along the corridor, he stopped before her before shouting. "Where were you when everyone had evacuated?!"

Mel blinked with a calmness that outmatched the Knight’s panicky breaths, her eyes squinting in suspicion.

This was the knight who had been staring at her earlier this morning.

"Evacuated?" Mel tapped a finger to her chin. "I don’t remember there being any danger, though?"

"What do you mea-ugh." The Knight let out an exaggerated groan, shaking his helmet in frustration. "No time to waste for now. Come on. Let’s-"

Yet before the Knight could finish a sentence, a howl echoed at the end of the corridor.

Mel peeked around the Knight’s behind, as two more pairs of steps, more clustered like beastly claws scratching against carpets, crept closer.

Shadows invaded the corridors, then from the stairwell emerged two hounds, their forms skeletal and otherworldly, with pure bones and glowing purple irises.

Their jaws opened to huff a muffled snarl, revealing white, clean, sharp teeth as they glared at Mel.

Amid the tension, just as the Knight drew his sword in a silent ’rage’, Mel’s cheerful voice cut through the silence.

"Wow. Those hounds have been doing well on their dental checks."

She gripped her staff behind her, shoulders relaxed as she stared at the two hounds, gritting their teeth.

Were Hounds summoned by the Necromancers always this squeaky clean?

"Is that really-" The Knight coughed, hesitation lingering in his voice despite his readied stance.

Mel’s eyes flicked to the Knight’s caged helmet; he kept sneaking glances at her, his grip on the sword awkward and unsteady, so unlike Saria’s. His body twisted strangely, as if the armor clung too tightly to his skin.

So obvious. Or was that the intent?

With a brief plan in her mind, Mel tested. "Did these two hounds cause everyone to evacuate?"

The Knight ’shivered’ a little, mumbling. "Of course! We’re unsure who has summoned them, so we evacuated everyone against the danger.

"Very reasonable."

A flat tone slipped out from Mel’s smiley lips.

The Royal or Holy Army entry requirement was at least Adept rank. Sensing that those two Hounds were no more than Adept, it is unreasonable that everyone on board would evacuate just because of them.

A mischievous glint crossed Mel’s eyes as her hand stretched out slightly, then she stepped back behind the Knight.

She called out again. "Well, good luck against the doggies, Knight! I’ll be rooting for you!"

She would have transformed into her Witch Form now, but that would give an edge of information to her enemy.

Since the Saintess assured her there would be no danger, Mel decided: why not risk it a little?

She mused as the Knight’s blade lowered a little, his stance narrowing in a robotic precision.

"That’s not possible, my Lady."

With a drop of a heavy tone, the air grew thick with unease, like a foreboding forlornness that enshrouded a graveyard.

Mel hummed as she fiddled with the staff from behind, exposing her front ’defenselessly’ like a tempting bait. "Oh really? Why so mysterious, Mr Knight?"

Then, the Knight’s sword dipped below his waist, his stance relaxing as he glanced over his shoulder.

With a swift twirl of his step, he spun around and lunged at Mel, blade aimed for her throat.

Yet, at the corner of his vision, a Summon Scroll lay neatly on the ground. Suddenly, a broom shot out from it, striking his chest-

Boom!

Ka-broom exploded, a cloudy dust kicking up as Mel’s vision slightly blurred.

She quickly deciphered the Knight’s terrible acting, almost too intentionally fake, like a mockery.

That means they never intended for me to trust them from the beginning.

She rested her staff against her hip before staring at the shadowy figure with a deep, cluttered mumbling.

"You didn’t panic. As expected from the Master’s perception. We should always be more cautious. More... testing of your worthiness."

Sharp clings rang out as the armours fell, and the figure drifted afloat into the air.

Mel smirked with ease. "Now you look a little less lame."

She studied the floating Lich, his skeletal frame draped in hooded robes, purple eyes burning with an eerie flame.

The Witch frowned slightly as it hugged a staff crowned with a skull-like head, cradling it like a mother.

"Choose, Human."

The Hounds growled in warning as the lich nuzzled into the Skull-Headed Staff. "Follow us to our Master. Or pass through this trial to become something greater, whether living... or unliving."

Tapping her finger against her chin, Mel furrowed her brows while glancing at the System panel.

[ That last part was a lie, by the way. ]

[ The Cult definitely would definitely like to capture you alive. Being Undead would only diminish your ability! ]

’Hm...’ Mel’s lips curled to a foxy smile. ’Partner, I assume this is at least an Expert-ranked Lich?’

[ You’re correct! Given your rank as an Apprentice, I would suggest you accept to follow them and meet her, but... ]

"Alright."

Mel twirled her staff as her face beamed in excitement. "I accept!"

[ ...as expected of you. ]

"Hehe."

Mel let out a chuckle, her ’gamer instinct’ fired up back when she was in her Old World, as the inability to refuse a challenge was ingrained deeply into her.

The Lich withdrew its head back from the staff, its eyes following a faint trail of flames drifting in the air.

It muttered, almost in a sad tone. "Very well."

As he pointed the staff, the Hounds lunged forward with a fervent madness.