The Headless Knight Emerges
After taking down the pack of enhanced zombies that served as the mid-boss, everything else went like clockwork. Once I realized that even the onaholes made from skeleton warriors and archers—small as they were—still granted points, I threw myself into the fights with gusto. As long as the head and torso were intact, there was no difference in selling price when turning them into onaholes. So I first neutralized every enemy in the room, then methodically converted them one by one and sold them off.
One downside: turning them into onaholes and selling to the shop transformed their mana stones into onaholes too, so scavenging anything worthwhile for cash was tough. Still, mana stones from trash mobs in a 7th Grade dungeon fetched a decent price, so I capped it at exactly 1000 points and just killed the rest outright to harvest the stones.
"Hmm, doing them back-to-back like this is making my head spin a bit."
I'd thought it was fine as long as I wasn't cranking out multiples at once, but pumping out dozens in a row left my skull throbbing.
"No clue what resource this Unique Authority even draws on to activate."
"I know nothing about authorities myself, so... I'm sorry, Master."
There was definitely some cost to using it—my pounding head proved that—but beyond the pain, I had no idea what it was, which made me uneasy deep down. Still, the ache faded quickly after a short rest, with no other side effects, so I wasn't too worried. As long as I didn't overdo it, wielding the authority was effortless.
Clearing rooms one by one like that, I soon arrived at the boss chamber door. Through a glimpse past it, I could make out a mausoleum-like structure at the graveyard's heart, surrounded by piles of shattered tombstones.
"The dullahan will probably come from inside the mausoleum. Might even summon zombies or skeleton soldiers from the graves."
The boss in Necromancer's Graveyard was a dullahan without a black mage. It typically wielded a blunt weapon and used its own severed head as a shield—reinforced by necromantic mana, tougher than any ordinary shield. Having been human in life, it knew some martial techniques, its whole body clad in armor. As an intelligent mid-tier undead, it could wield necromantic mana to summon lowliest rot zombies or skeleton soldiers, making it hard to exploit weaknesses through sheer numbers. That made it a nightmare for hunters who'd climbed to 7th Grade on brute force alone, without tactics or skill.
"Doesn't apply to us. Ready, Brina?"
"Yes, Master."
That was only true for a fresh 7th Grade hunter party. For Brina and me—each capable of soloing a 7th Grade dungeon—it was irrelevant.
After a quick regroup, Brina and I pushed open the boss room door and stepped inside.
Rumble—
"Huh?"
The moment we crossed the threshold, that same eerie premonition from the dungeon tutorial washed over me. Sure enough, my vision went black, and a system message appeared, announcing the change.
Your Unique Authority has triggered a change in the dungeon.
Jeanne the Cold-Blooded, Headless Knight of the Legion of the Dead, has appeared!
I skimmed the messages and dismissed them; the darkness lifted, revealing our surroundings again. Thankfully, unlike with purification, Brina hadn't been shunted elsewhere—she was right beside me.
"Master, what's this?"
"One of my authority's effects. That's how I met you, remember? Back then, a near-7th Grade you popped out of a 10th Grade dungeon."
"So in this 7th Grade dungeon..."
"At least 6th Grade. If we're unlucky, maybe even a 5th Grade boss."
Brina and I snapped into combat stance. Another twist in what I'd thought would be a cakewalk dungeon—tension spiked, but so did anticipation.
'Last time, I got Brina. This time, probably another prime onahole candidate.'
The stronger the foe, the greater the conquest thrill when I made it mine. Brimming with expectation, I waited—and soon, the mausoleum doors creaked open.
Grriiind—
Out came the dullahan, as expected. Unlike the standard leather-armored ones, this matched the "Headless Knight" label: full plate armor encasing its body like a true knight. One hand gripped an iron mace, the other its severed head—visor down on the closed helmet, face obscured. The dullahan scanned the area.
"Where...?"
Jeanne—that was her name—spoke in a muffled, unmistakably feminine voice from behind the visor, sounding bewildered. Just like Brina at first, disoriented by the sudden summon.
Seeing it stirred memories in Brina, who murmured, "That was me once."
"Who goes there?"
The dullahan Jeanne's gaze locked on us at Brina's whisper. Stealth advantage gone—but I hadn't planned one anyway. Despite standing casually, as if just looking around, she'd clocked us the instant she emerged from the mausoleum. Rush in thinking she was oblivious, and we'd eat a counter.
The dullahan Jeanne eyed the two living beings warily, intrigued.
"Living humans? And... what? Why's a high goblin siding with humans?"
Suddenly yanked here by the Tower's system, Jeanne puzzled over humans hostile alongside a rare high goblin ally. Goblins were bottom-rung cannon fodder for the Demon Lord's army—why team with humans? Curiosity piqued by the odd sight, she asked—but they clearly didn't understand her.
"What're they saying?"
"No idea."
Weapons trained on her, they muttered in some unknown tongue. She could parse goblin speech decently, but this high goblin's words? Gibberish. Sounded like the humans' language.
"Can't communicate. Thought maybe survivors from my world... but no. Guess this is some invaded realm under siege?"
Disappointed they weren't from her fallen world, Jeanne felt a sliver of relief anyway.
"They look strong. Might be the ones to end my cursed existence."
It had been eternity. Forced into undeath, she'd guarded this graveyard in a world where everything died—chewing solitude for ages. Her ego intact amid the cruelty, she'd suffered endlessly without release. Now, facing potential ends to her torment: living foes. One a high goblin, but hostile all the same. Hope flickered after so long; beneath the visor, Jeanne smiled.
"Come, warriors! Grant me true death!"
No shared language, but intent clear—her shout ignited the battle.
"I'll take the front! Circle around and strike, Brina!"
"Got it, Master!"
Gripping Abigail's sword two-handed, I charged straight to draw her eyes. Meanwhile, Brina flanked, hunting openings.
"Clever tactic!"
Jeanne spotted it instantly, thrilled, and met my frontal rush with a power smash.
Boom!
"Ngh...!"
The hefty iron mace tore air toward my skull; I dodged frantically. It pulverized the mausoleum's stone floor, shards flying everywhere. Sidestepping to minimize exposure, I blocked fragments with my blade, creating distance to gauge her specs.
'Strength around Nuker's level. No power contests. Focus on evasion.'
No intent to parry a heavy mace with a sword anyway—I evaded relentlessly, baiting flaws.
Clang!
"Fine strike, but lacks power."
"Ngh! Spouting nonsense I can't even understand!"
As I blocked Jeanne's assault, exposing a gap, hidden Brina lunged. But Jeanne—sensing omnidirectionally via necromantic mana, not just her head's eyes—hoisted her toughest part, the head, to block. Brina's dagger pierced the helmet but not the mana-fortified skull beneath. Failed strike; she retreated swiftly.
Jeanne's agility couldn't catch Brina's Instant Acceleration and Double Jump, so she let her go and refocused on me.
"Focus more! Aim for armor gaps! It's necromantic mana moving the body, but damage the flesh and efficiency tanks!"
Jeanne guided them on killing her, but the language barrier held firm.
"If only I could die willingly. But this wretched body won't obey me."
Lich-turned dullahan, her ego preserved—but no freedom beyond. Necromantic mana coursed veins sans blood, puppeteering her living techniques against the living. Ego and body divorced, no perfect techs, yet overwhelming for those two.
"Pity words won't bridge this. Such a shame."
The young man showed trained skill, dodging well despite physical limits—but limits clear.
"Mortals tire inevitably. I did too."
The high goblin's opportunistic strikes were sharp, but lacked force and edge to breach mana-reinforced head and helm. So close, yet short. Better weapons, more allies, and it might differ.
Without a breakthrough, they'd die; she'd return undead to empty graves.
"No helping it."
Resigned to savoring the rare fight, she nearly gave up—
Clang!
"Hm?"
The evasion-focused youth suddenly parried the mace and backpedaled sharply?
"Brina, buy me a moment!"
"Yes!"
At his shout, the flanking goblin took frontal position.
"Some hidden card?"
Intrigued, Jeanne swung her mace at Brina.