The Fool's Freedom

Alan quickly activated [Monochrome Armor] and felt his shadow wrap around and join his flesh. The world became a tad bit slower, and the darkness friendlier.

His [Shadow Weapon] coated his two daggers. His left hand held the ritual dagger, while his right the flaming one. He didn’t know what the man in the robe was capable of, but if that’s what a blood corpse was, it couldn’t be anything simple.

In typical overconfident boss fashion, the blood corpse waited, but the minions didn’t.

The four Skinned Servants charged, and the group met their charge. Ashlyn had abandoned her longbow, to the surprise of the elves, and opted to take one of the monsters for herself.

It was four on four, with two elven archers and a healer for support. And Florence. She hadn’t used her [Battle Focus] in a while, and Alan hoped its effect would be back in full force now. Or she could buff the elf, as Davis would not take the intrusion well.

Alan met his opponent with a smile, dagger against a clawed hand. With a sudden bout of inspiration, he cast [Shadow Slash] just as his dagger made contact with the enemy.

An explosion of darkness shook them both. It was harmless to Alan and he found with surprise that the shadows didn’t obscure his vision at all. The corpse's arm was left hanging by a thread after the attack, but a flash of red light made it whole in an instant

Alan threw a glance toward the blood corpse still standing and watching. Was that him? If he was a healer, then he was a priority target.

The exchange continued and Alan let a few more shadow slashes out just as his blades were about to sink into the monster. Bits and pieces of it were cut away, and at one point he even managed to cut a hand off, but the red light appeared again and the servant was as new.

“Fuck!” Alan heard Davis curse from the side and in the next instant heard a loud bang. He quickly sent a few shadow slashes towards his enemy and turned to look. Davis was getting up a few meters behind while arrows were raining on the corpse that had sent him flying, keeping it in place.

The elven archers seemed almost useless though, as even the arrows that sank into its eyes were quickly pushed out by the red flash of light.

“The thing behind is healing them!” Ashlyn called.

Alan grinned. If Ashlyn was sure, he was sure. He pushed back as much as he could, sending the corpse he was fighting reeling backward. He was almost close enough now.

[Synaptic Failure] went off with less than two seconds of delay and he felt it connect, then activated the enchantment on his flaming dagger and went for the throat. His attacks left trails of darkness as he attacked with abandon. One of his close-range [Shadow Slashes] hit the thing’s neck, and the next cut it off completely, searing the flesh.

It took him only a few seconds to send the head flying. Then there was a roar from the side.

Crap.

The black robe didn’t seem happy at being the target for [Synaptic Failure]. Its hollow eyes turned toward Alan and a ball of red energy shot toward him so fast he couldn’t react.

Shadows enveloped him as the attack met his armor and exploded, sending him flying backward. He first heard the sizzling, then felt it as the corrosive red liquid burned holes through his clothes and leather armor, having gotten through his new defense.

A flash of green appeared and he felt the pain on his skin disappeared.

Healers are the best.

He nodded toward Jaerdra, grateful that they had not fought this thing with only the three of them. Would the Dungeon even allow that?

Knowing so little about the rules of the game pissed him off. The battle was at its peak, but the corpse he had beheaded remained on the floor, unmoving. Alan stood up.

No healing from that.

A large chunk of mana disappeared as he willed it to repair the shadow armor. It was a lifesaver and too important to ignore. He had about half left, not counting the portion that was locked away for [Monochrome Armor].

Alan ran up to the closest corpse while keeping an eye on the black robe. Reyvalum was stuck in combat with it. He saw Alan come to help and sent a wide swing that made the corpse move back.

“Distract it!” he said and rushed in with sword raised high.

Alan decided to trust the strange elf and do just that. He needed to conserve some of his mana for the black robe, who thankfully remained content just watching from the side once again as a true boss would until his time was nigh. Flashes of red kept healing the corpses as before.

There was another flash of strange energy just as Alan got closer to the corpse, but nothing happened. He swung with both daggers in a wide arc from the top. The corpse raised an arm to block, and Alan expected to cut through it.

The impact almost made him drop his daggers as the blades sank halfway to the bone with some resistance and refused to move further. He quickly pulled back. Was the corpse tougher than the other one? His eyes roamed and stopped at the one he had beheaded. It would suck if the remaining corpses got stronger when one died. It would really suck.

A second later a mighty roar came from the elf and his sword fell diagonally on the monster’s head. The blade broke past the skull with a disgusting sound starting from the corpse’s ear and ending above the jaw.

The top half of the head slid away.

Alan quickly threw himself to the side, expecting another blast from the black robe, but no attack came. It simply stood there, not attempting to heal the bloodless corpse either.

Why the fuck did it react only to the first kill? Was it only because of being a target of a skill?

There was a scream to the side and a loud thump as Davis was once again sent flying.

Alan cursed and turned only to see Ashlyn being pushed back by her opponent. She was holding her own quite well, but she was yet to activate [Imitate Predator].

“Help Davis,” he said and rushed toward his best friend without waiting for an answer. Alan positioned his daggers and poured some of his remaining mana into his legs before pushing away from the floor. His boosted mobility combined with the power from [Warlock’s Body Mastery] made him fly through the hall and ram into the corpse fighting Ashlyn.

Both crashed into the wall with a dull sound. The stone remained mercilessly pristine as it refused to absorb even a bit of the force of impact.

Alan struggled to get up, and so did the corpse. His daggers had left deep wounds on the Skinless Servant but a flash of red took care of that even before both of them were up.

A powerful hit made the shadows protecting Alan flare to life before he barely blocked a second with his enchanted forearm. He once flew and rammed into one of the columns.

Thankfully his bones survived the impact unbroken, although his flaming dagger had clattered to the ground. Alan tried to blink away his swimming vision and saw Ashlyn, her eyes black, her swings more powerful than ever, attack the corpse from behind and almost take its head. She proceeded with her relentless dance, and the corpse could only retreat.

However, she was still having a hard time wounding it, as with two deaths the toughness of the remaining ones had grown significantly.

Thankfully, or not, the black robe still stood unmoving. There was more blood dripping from his eyes now, though.

Alan saw his dagger and picked it up.

He swung. Two blades of darkness crashed against the back of the corpse fighting Ashlyn but did little more than break skin.

“Fuck.”

There was a slight pause as the corpse completely ignored Ashlyn, and swiped at something invisible. She didn’t hesitate to ram her hatchet into its face, managing to send a few rotten teeth flying and break the jaw.

The scene repeated a few times while Alan was waiting for his cue to join in and used the opportunity to catch some breath. His muscles were aching like a motherfucker. Hopefully, his vitality problem would not choose to rear its head now.

He saw Florence concentrating in the back of the hall, near the closet entrance. The corpse’s strange actions were probably her doing.

Jaerdra and the two archers were busy supporting Davis and the elven warrior, ignoring Ashlyn and Alan. It made some sense, but it was still shitty. They were all in this together.

The corpse resumed attacking Ashlyn, only to get distracted again and again by Florence’s illusions that only it could see. Alan felt some of his mana recover, but hesitated. [Synaptic Failure] would let them end their fight, but the last corpse would get even stronger and harder to kill.

They needed to kill the two together. It would have been perfect killing all four together, but who the fuck knew there were strategies in real dungeons?

“Davis –,” Alan tried to get the man’s attention and share his plan while he had a breather, but stopped himself.

Reyvalur’s sword was stabbed through the mouth of the corpse, pinning it to the ground. The warrior elf was bigger, his armor filled out with bulging muscles. He held the sword handle with both hands, leaning on it with his full weight.

All the while Davis was busy hammering at the corpse's head with his glowing iron gauntlets at a speed that made his hands blur, making it cave further and further despite the red glow of healing.

It was another thing that drew Alan’s attention though – the archers were aiming at the black robe.

Fucking idiots.

“Don’t!” he yelled. The arrows still flew as one and hit the eyeless man in the chest with a dull thud. It didn’t seem to care for a moment before a red sphere like the one that had struck Alan shot toward the two elves, who were already scrambling out of the way.

The silent elf, whose name Alan hadn’t remembered, wasn’t lucky as a second red sphere hit and enveloped him in an explosion of energy.

He was left bleeding, his armor torn and his bowstring broken. A green healing spell from Jaerdra descended almost immediately. It started healing his wounds, but it was not as instantaneous as the healing the corpses were receiving. Still, it was impressive and working.

Alan decided he had seen enough as he again used a chunk of his dwindling mana to activate the ritual dagger enchantment. The cat skull pommel started glowing.

Ashlyn had done more than enough damage to the corpse in her boosted state that it looked as if it had been thrown into a meat grinder. No healing was coming for it, as the boss was trying to keep the one being beaten by Davis alive.

In a whirl of shadows, Alan was upon the corpse and [True Edge] once again proved its value as it seemed to cut through the flesh of the corpse much easier. Somehow the head flew almost at the same time as a crunching sound came from Alan’s right, signifying that the skull of the last corpse had given in.

Not too shabby.

Only one left – the black robe.

“There is no message,” Ashlyn snarled next to him, taking deep breaths.

Alan’s eyes grew wide, “What?”

“No system message for the kill.”

Fuck!

Never assume something is dead unless the System says it is dead should have been his first rule. He fucked up, all of them but Ash did. Goddamn it.

There was sound akin to twisting bubblewrap, but it came from bones and tendons, as the corpse closest to Olaw, the annoying elf, expanded and twisted and grew.

Suddenly the black robe was there, gone from his previous place, appearing from the twisting bloodless flesh like a crazed magician.

Olaw tried to jump away but wasn’t fast enough as a hand-tinted in red gripped his throat. Immediately a green barrier covered the struggling archer, and Alan heard Jaerdra scream something.

The green barrier shattered in the next moment, and so did the neck of the elf. Blood flew everywhere. The black robe dropped the lifeless body and turned toward the rest.

Oh, wow.

“Join my flesh, and let us all rejoice in our unity.”

The elf’s body started twitching, its skin raptured. The black robe stood still as tendrils reached out from the gaps of the cloth and started working on the fresh corpse.

Alan immediately recharged his shadow armor, leaving him with only scraps in reserve. He had regenerated some and he swore he could feel the drops trickle in, but it was not nearly enough to spam his skills as he wanted to.

[Synaptic Failure] was the ace in the hole. The skill had rarely let him down, although this was a whole new type of enemy.

The silent elf archer was almost healed. He drew two short swords, but Alan noticed his hands were trembling.

Reyvaum was still in his huge form, ready to charge and Davis stood next to him.

Jaerdra seemed to be whispering and hit the ground with her staff in the next moment, drawing the black robe’s attention and sending a circle of energy that covered the whole room.

Alan felt his fatigue go away, and his mana regeneration surge.

Now we’re talking.

He and Ashlyn circled carefully until they were closer to the boss and their allies.

“Flo, can’t you burst some hearts?” Ashlyn whispered.

Florence shook her head, “I tried, but it’s like I am trying to affect something that isn’t there.”

“How about a buff?” Alan asked. He hoped that enough time had passed for the manipulations to make him sharper again.

Florence nodded, “I can do that.”

“Not me. Not yet.” Ashlyn added.

The black robe was done soon, and a new bloodless corpse rose next to it. No trace remained of the elf that had been mistrustful of Alan’s shadows.

“It is no death to serve me, and through me the Lord, little ones. Come, embrace the pain. Embrace servitude.”

With a battle cry no one saw coming, Davis was the first to charge.

“I will embrace your mom!”