CHAPTER 52: AGIASNT THE SKELETAL LORD II

The rot magic spread instantly through the skeleton’s frame, eating away the brittle bone until the warrior collapsed into dust.

"Good... the sword is doing great," Rhys muttered with a satisfied grin. "Now that the testing is over, let’s clean up the rest of them."

He raised his hand toward the advancing line of undead.

[ Light Bullets ]

Five radiant projectiles erupted from his palm in rapid succession, streaking through the fog like golden comets. Each bullet found its mark with unerring precision—piercing skulls, shattering ribs, and bursting the undead apart in flashes of searing light. The air cracked with each impact, bones clattering across the floor like brittle glass.

In less than a heartbeat, the remaining five skeletons crumbled, their lifeless remains scattering across the cold stone.

Without breaking stride, Rhys moved deeper into the cave, his boots crunching over bone fragments. Puddle floated at his side, its gelatinous body pulsing faintly with water, light, and dark energy. The air grew colder, the walls slick with black moss and streaked with fungal veins that throbbed faintly, as though alive. The smell of rot was thick now, heavy enough that every breath felt like inhaling stagnant water.

From deeper in the shadows, more skeletons emerged—elite warriors in splintered armor, archers with rotting bows that creaked with every pull, and a few skeletal mages, their bony fingers dripping with flickers of sickly green magic.

Rhys didn’t slow. A sharp Ghost Edge Step carried him straight into the heart of the warriors. One clean Whirlwind Slash spun out from him, the Corrupted Treant Lord’s Sword carving arcs of steel and elemental magic through multiple foes. The warriors collapsed in halves, their swords clattering uselessly to the stone.

Arrows hissed toward him from the back, but Puddle’s Light Shield flashed into being, the barrier bending the missiles harmlessly away in streaks of light. One of the skeletal mages lifted its staff, whispering in the tongue of the dead. Dark energy began to swell at its fingertips—

—but a volley of Magic Missiles from Rhys streaked forward, slamming into the mage’s skull and chest. Bone splintered under the impact, and the corpse collapsed before its spell could release. Another mage attempted to retreat, but Rhys was already there—Phantom Piercer thrust forward, driving through the back of its ribcage and bursting out the other side in a flash of steel and blue light.

The twisting path narrowed, walls pressing in close. Black tar dripped from jagged cracks above, splattering onto the ground in slow, viscous pools. Rhys skirted around them, knowing the corrosive rot could melt through armor in seconds.

They stepped through a jagged archway into a wider chamber. Here, a faint red fog curled along the ground like a living thing. The moment Rhys saw it, he knew—pure rot essence. To step inside would mean letting it gnaw at flesh and armor until nothing remained.

"Stay close, Puddle. We keep to the edges," he murmured, keeping his voice low in the heavy silence.

They moved along the outer wall, their steps slow and deliberate. The only sound was the drip of tar and the faint scrape of Rhys’s boots. But deeper ahead... the sound began.

Clack. Clack. Clack.

Not the light rattle of the weaker undead—this was heavy. Deliberate. Like thick armor grinding together.

From the darkness, they emerged. Four towering shapes, each over two meters tall, clad in rusted plate that still managed to radiate menace. Their skeletal forms carried massive, jagged swords. Behind them, two skeletal mages drifted forward, their sockets glowing with deep blue flame, skeletal staves raised high.

"Captains and mages together... they’re not holding back," Rhys muttered, his grip tightening on his sword.

The first knight captain charged, its massive sword swinging down like a guillotine. Rhys shifted sideways with Ghost Edge Step, vanishing from its sight and reappearing at its flank. Arc Surge Slash ripped through the knight’s midsection in a burst of crackling mana, splitting bone and armor in one swift motion.

The second captain came down hard with a brutal overhead strike. Sparks screamed into the air as Rhys caught the blow, locking blades for a heartbeat. Then, with a sudden twist, he unleashed Steamburst Edge—a hiss of scalding vapor exploded outward, melting through the knight’s corroded armor and searing the mage behind it.

The third and fourth captains closed in together, swords raised high. Before they could strike, the ground beneath them split open—Abyssal Grasp erupted upward, dark tendrils coiling around their legs and dragging at them with crushing force.

Rhys darted between the immobilized captains, blade whirling. Whirlwind Slash, infused with Water Blade, carved through their helmets, sending fragments of bone flying like shrapnel. Both collapsed in heaps, their bodies twitching once before going still.

The mages began to chant in unison, the air thickening with necrotic power.

"Not today," Rhys growled.

Puddle’s Light Bullets flared, five radiant orbs streaking through the air in rapid fire. They pierced the mages’ skulls one after another, bursting them apart in flashes of blinding light. The bodies crumpled, magic fizzling out before it could reach them.

The echo of battle faded, leaving only the slow, rhythmic drip of tar and the ominous whisper of the red fog beyond.

"Hmmm... the Skeleton Lord has a much bigger army than we thought, Puddle," Rhys muttered, his eyes narrowing at the oppressive darkness ahead.

Puddle gave a faint kyuu~ and bounced after him, the slime’s gelatinous body rippling with anticipation.

They pushed deeper, cutting down more roaming undead along the way until they finally stood before a massive gate. The iron doors loomed high overhead, etched with faded runes and coated in centuries of grime.

"I guess... this is the boss chamber," Rhys murmured, resting a hand against the cold metal.

He didn’t rush in. Instead, he sat down at the side of the gate, letting the quiet sink in. His Mana Essence began to steadily refill, and the cooldown timers on his skills ticked down one by one. When every spell and technique was ready, he rose to his feet and exhaled slowly.

"Alright... let’s see what we’re dealing with," he said, pushing the doors open.