The reaver was blasted backward by the force of my flying bullrush and rolled in a cluster of bones and flailing limbs. I spun around behind me just in time to see the reaver which Urg was inside of explode into hundreds of bones. That was definitely one way to take apart the undead.

  With three of them down, the last one didn’t last long against our combined efforts. Urg tanked, and I moved in from the side, chopping off an arm, then a leg, and finally its head.

  I stepped back, pausing to catch my breath as I floated a few inches off the ground. Walking on the air was definitely addictive. I couldn’t wait until I could show this to Cece and Mom. It was a good reminder that for all the horror of the system there were wonders here too. I looked around and saw the remains of four reavers even if one of them was unrecognizable, but I still pulsed with excitement. Yes, it was worth fighting undead to be able to fly.

  That was when I realized that I hadn’t gained any XP yet. That only happened if this was all part of a specific encounter. Crap, dungeon rules were all over the place. Now, I just had to figure out if there were more reavers, something else to fight, or if the end of the encounter was entirely different.

  I cast Lingering Grace on Urg and thanked him for the help. He wasn’t much of a conversationalist, but I felt like I was able to understand him better. “More bones.”

  “Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking too, buddy.”

  I glanced back at Samvek. I could barely make him out now. It looked like he hadn’t moved at all and was still in the hallway. Oh well, I guess this was always supposed to be up to me. Urg and I moved forward then. It wasn’t long before we encountered the next reaver.

  From that point, each battle went something like that last one, but I got better as I went. I didn’t check notifications during the fighting, but Urg and I made a fearsome team. The polearm was starting to really feel natural in my hands and my ability to manipulate the shields was growing. Moving both the shield and my weapon at the same time had stopped giving me a headache, around the time the twelfth reaver dropped.

  That was when the XP hit. I smiled.

  You have slain twelve level 46 reavers. XP gained: 6480. You have reached level 44.

  I completed my tour of the room after assigning my six free stat points to Mind. Even though it was one of my highest stats, I felt the need for more of it if I was going to work on this style of fighting. It was crucial for finer control on moving shields and using a melee weapon at the same time.

  Looking around, the only thing I discovered was that on the far side of the room there was a doorway that led to another hallway, much like the one we’d come down to reach this point. Samvek still hadn’t budged, so I assumed I had more to do. Since the doorway was barred by a gate of dark metal which was both too heavy for me to lift and too hard for my weapon to cut, I assumed that it had something to do with the pedestals and sarcophagus.

  I cursed under my breath. “Stupid freaking dungeon puzzles.”

  Chapter 23- Knife or a Book?

  I was frustrated, but took a deep breath to calm myself. Looking at my skill gains made me happy. Polearms, bladed weapons, staff fighting, and aerial combat had all increased by at least five. With polearms gaining the most with nineteen. The jump seemed massive for what was effectively less than half an hour of my life, but I also realized that I’d pushed myself beyond my limits. Something that training, even if it helped consolidate my gains, failed to do.

  Spells and abilities weren’t left off either. Barbs of Slowing got the biggest leap. It turns out that casting a spell while trying to hold an undead monstrosity at bay—with a polearm and mentally direct a floating force shield, was not that easy. It gained an entire eleven percent progress. Rapid Flight and my other buffs all got small gains, while Mage Shield and Mage Missiles both had gains of over forty percent. I could only assume that was because they were basic tier abilities and thus would evolve much more easily.

  Okay, then there was the matter of loot. If they each had even half the loot from the other reaver, this was going to be quite a haul. I felt a building pressure in the room, like the air was starting to press down on me, but it wasn’t enough to make me forgo loot.

  I had Urg drag all the corpses together so I could do a simultaneous loot. It probably wouldn’t affect the results, but it would look cool to see a small hill of monster bodies turn into a pile of loot. I mentally flexed the ability and then got one of those notifications that is amazing.

  Multiple duplicate loots will be created by this function. Alternatively, you may cut your number of looted items by three-fourths in exchange for having every item bumped up by one Tier.

  It was a no-brainer for me. I already tended to get higher Tier loot, with this I might actually gain an epic item.

  Healing Potions (rare) x 5

  Stamina Potions (rare) x 6

  Ability Evolution Stone (Epic)

  Gloves of Precise Power (Rare)

  Class Shard- Reaver (Rare)

  Class Shard- Dark Stalker (Rare)

  Class Shard- Spectral Assassin (Rare)

  Credits – 6,010

  The list seemed pretty short, but then again, I wasn’t sure if those reavers had counted as mini-bosses. They were definitely smaller and slightly weaker than the one we’d fought outside. It was that difference which had made it possible for me to win. Well, that and I went all out. It seemed I didn’t do that very often.

  My mana was regenerated now, but I was still thinking about what to do with the Evolution Stone. Spirit Walk was already epic tier, so that was a no go. That really left Adorably Harmless or Shape Conjured Constructs. Adorably Harmless was my first ability and something created for me by my initial experience, but it had caused me a great deal of headaches. I couldn’t deny that it was powerful and would likely be even more so at Epic, but my build was clearly going in one direction. I couldn’t pass up this opportunity.

  It was certainly possible for me to raise the ability just through use, but rare abilities seemed to take far longer than common or even uncommon to grow. Yeah, I thought about it. I’d been holding back too much. It was time to burn it. So, I applied the stone to my ability and then looked at the results.

  Shape Conjured Construct (epic 0%): You may shape any conjured magical construct to your will. This will be easiest with your own conjurations, but will still be possible with those conjured by others. Practice will cause this ability to become easier. This is a Will based ability. Cool-Down: 5 seconds between uses. Warning: you may harm yourself if you attempt to by-pass the cool-down.

  Additional passive benefits have been gained:

  +30% to conjuration speed

  -30% to mana cost of all conjurations

  +50% to range of conjurations

  +25% to concentration while focusing on multiple constructs

  At first, the changes seemed rather underwhelming. Speed increase and mana cost decrease went from 10% to 30% so that was nice. The range went from 20% to 50% extension and then there was the added bonus to concentration, which would hopefully make it easier to juggle multiple constructs. Oh, and the cool-down time was cut in half. So all in all, it was a set of solid gains, even if it wasn’t anything amazing.

  That only left the gloves to Identify.

  Gloves of Precise Power Quality: Rare

  Passive Effects:

  1)

  Thrown weapons have 10% more penetration and 10% increased critical strike chance.

  2) Makes it very difficult to accidentally drop anything or unintentionally lose your grasp on an object.

  3) Strength: +15, Dexterity +15

  That wasn’t too bad, I could get behind that. I pulled off the Ring of Blinding and looked at it. I hadn’t used it for quite some time. Then I shook my head. I should keep it. You never know when it might become useful. I put the gloves on. They were skin tight and faded to match the color of my skin until even I almost couldn’t tell they were there. It made sliding the ring on over them very easy.

  Then I looked back at the pedestals. I’d been putting this off. I might as well get to it. I flew over after recasting Rapid Flight. With that mobility, I examined the formation of pedestals and sarcophagus from every angle I could. The problem was that I couldn’t reach it as there was a field of energy being emitted from the sarcophagus, which I couldn’t penetrate.

  It extended out to the twelve pedestals and was keeping me from using Identify on either the dagger or the book. I looked back at Samvek, but he didn’t say anything, so this was still on me.

  I started looking for any details I’d missed. That was when I discovered a pattern in the floor. There were four-inch circles in front of each of the pedestals. Once I went down and cleared what seemed like years of built up dust off them, I noticed that the circles were colored. The one in front of the dagger was red, then as I went around clockwise they went, yellow, green, blue, violet, orange, orange, and then the cycle repeated itself. The book was next to a green circle.

  Studying the colored circles intently, I felt a growing sense that they were key to unlocking the mystery of this chamber. The pattern seemed deliberate, a puzzle designed to test the wit of anyone daring enough to penetrate the crypt's depths. Each circle, with its distinct hue, beckoned for interaction, yet the purpose remained elusive.

  My mind raced through possibilities, considering the significance of the colors and their placement. The red circle in front of the dagger could symbolize blood or danger, common associations with the color red. Yellow often represented light or energy, green could signify life or nature, and blue might stand for water or calm. Violet was trickier, possibly denoting magic or the mystical, while orange was often linked to warmth or creativity.

  Then again, who was I to say that these colors meant the same thing to the Darje? I kept having to remind myself they were an alien race and human assumptions might get me killed.

  The repetition of orange circles intrigued me. Why repeat the same color when others were unique? Was it an error, or part of the puzzle's design? It almost seemed like the creator couldn’t decide on just one orange circle but had to make two.

  I circled the sarcophagus again, examining each pedestal with meticulous attention. The items they once held were long gone, but their absence felt significant, like missing pieces of a larger puzzle.

  I fired a Mage Missile through the space around the crypt. The attack flew through without any problem. Yet when I tried to walk in, I was unable to. I grabbed a handful of bone chips from my spatial storage and tossed them into the barrier. Once again, they were completely unobstructed and fell to the ground, rattling.

  Samvek remained silent, a stoic observer. I had to try to ignore him because otherwise it pissed me off. For all I knew, he already knew the answer and just wasn’t telling me.

  I decided to experiment. Approaching the red circle in front of the dagger, I extended my hand, hesitating just above the surface. If this were a trap, I'd be in trouble, but the risk felt necessary. Slowly, I pressed down.

  Nothing happened. No click, no movement, not even a change in the energy field. I retracted my hand, puzzled but undeterred. Moving to the next circle, the yellow one, I repeated the action. Again, no response.

  I continued this process around the circle of pedestals, pressing each colored circle in turn. When I completed the circuit and arrived back at the red circle, a faint sound caught my attention—a low hum, almost imperceptible, emanating from somewhere beneath the floor.

  My heart raced with anticipation. Something had changed. I focused on the sarcophagus, noting a subtle shift in the energy field. It was still there, but it seemed less dense, as if my actions had weakened it somehow.

  Encouraged, I examined the colored circles again, this time more closely. The repeating orange circles could be the key. Perhaps the sequence needed to be activated in a specific order, and the duplicate orange was the starting point.

  I pressed the first orange circle, holding my breath. The hum grew slightly louder. Emboldened, I pressed the second orange circle. The hum intensified, vibrating through the soles of my feet. Excitement surged within me—I was on the right track.

  Quickly, I pressed the remaining circles in the sequence they appeared, starting from the orange and following the color pattern. As I pressed the final violet circle, a loud click echoed through the chamber, and the energy field around the sarcophagus flickered and dissipated.

  A solemn voice rang out, “Welcome you who would follow in my path. Know that it is one of blood and pain, but also of power. I walk the line between life and death and if you become my disciple, so will you.”

  After two seconds, it continued, “Now you must choose. There are six sets of paired items around the crypt which holds that which was most precious to me. I give you a choice. Half of the items will allow you to follow in my path. Half will prove you don’t know the truth. Choose wisely, for one choice will lead beyond this chamber and the other will lead beyond this world.”

  The solemnity of the voice reverberated through the crypt, sent a shiver down my spine. Then anger pushed back the shock. This was stupid. How was I supposed to pick between two objects with that limited information? I could only assume that others had come and removed the other items. The mention of walking the line between life and death intrigued and unnerved me in equal measure. What path had this entity walked, and what power lay in embracing such a fate? My best guess was that this was the Darje who had been the first necromancer. I didn’t think his path was one that I wanted to follow, but I did need to go deeper into the dungeon.

  As the voice faded, leaving an echoing silence in its wake, I surveyed the chamber once more. The items around the crypt, now unshielded by the dissipated energy field, were within reach, yet the decision felt as unclear as ever.

  I approached the pedestals with a sense of solemn determination. The book, bound in dark leather and adorned with runes that seemed to shift and dance under my gaze, drew my attention. It radiated a power that resonated with me, an allure that was hard to resist. Instinctively, I felt that it held knowledge and secrets crucial to understanding the path of life and death mentioned by the voice. But was this instinct a guide or a trap?

  I cast Identify but the results were frustrating.

  The Path Beyond Life Tome (epic)

  Wt: 4.0 lbs

  It had been a long time since I got such crappy results. I tried to use Identify again, focusing more of my attention to activating the ability, but it didn’t matter. I felt like I was beating my hands against a stone wall.

  Then I walked around to the dagger. I didn’t have high hopes, but I should be thorough, so I tried to Identify it.

  The Means Beyond Life Dagger (Epic)

  Wt: 1.5 lbs

  Just as I expected. Well, the voice had said that his path took blood. So that would imply that the dagger would be needed. But I also needed knowledge, and that would clearly mean a book. Ugh… there was a reason I hated riddles.

  Well, I preferred a book to a dagger and since I couldn’t reason out which one was right, I walked back to stand in front of the book. I lifted off the ground under the power of my spell and hovered in the air. Probably best to be ready to move as quickly as possible.

  Reaching out, I touched the book. Its surface was cool against my skin, the runes pulsing with a light that seemed to welcome my touch. For a moment, nothing happened, and I dared to hope I had chosen wisely.

  Then the air in the chamber shifted, growing colder. A sense of foreboding filled the room as the sarcophagus began to move. The stone lid slid aside with a grinding noise that echoed ominously through the crypt. From within the sarcophagus, a chilling mist began to spill out, coalescing into the form of a figure—a banshee, but she was no slender maiden, but rather what I could only imagine was a female Darje.

  The banshee's appearance was ethereal and terrifying. Her translucent form shimmered in the dim light of the chamber, her face twisted in an eternal scream of anguish. Her eyes locked onto mine, filled with a sorrow and rage that was palpable.

  I stepped back, polearm at the ready, despite the fact that it seemed a feeble tool against such a creature. As the banshee's wail filled the chamber, I tried to cover my ears and flew up into the black above until I reached the domed ceiling. The sound was piercing, a lament that threatened to overwhelm my senses and paralyze me with fear even from this distance.

  Urg, sensing the danger, moved to interpose himself between me and the banshee, but I knew that this battle was mine to fight. The banshee didn’t as much as glance at him.

  Then the voice sounded again, “You have chosen poorly. Knowledge is good, but it is worthless without sacrifice. That is what those fools never understood. But you can become the sacrifice to free my love from this place.”

  Chapter 24 – Bad-She Banshee

  Hovering near the crypt's domed ceiling, I watched as the banshee billowed out of the sepulcher almost like a dark cloud. A sense of wrath filled the air almost as a physical presence. No, not just wrath, but anger and sorrow interwoven so tightly as to be inseparable. Then it turned its gaze up to me.

  Unlike the other undead, there were no fiery, red glowing eyes. No, there was a coldness, a chill of emptiness. Looking into those eyes, I could imagine what it would be like to be exposed to the void of space, unprotected. Whatever process had put this woman’s soul into this state, she wasn’t happy about it and sought freedom along with vengeance.

  Her mouth opened in another wail, the sound somehow even more intense from this proximity. I braced myself, focusing on maintaining my altitude and preparing for whatever confrontation lay ahead. The banshee's form was unlike anything I had encountered before—ethereal, its edges blurred and shifting, as if she were part of the mist itself.