Death Is Coming
I had seen spirits often enough in the past, too. Their variety — the way they could become absolutely anything — was limitless. But the trait I'd observed more than any other was playfulness.
A childlike purity. An unclouded, innocent heart. And—
Hahahaha—!
Krrrik…
—a malice so pure it bordered on innocence.
"Noooooo!"
The sails tore. Yena, moving at blistering speed, had closed the distance to the swarm of tiny spirits shredding the canvas to ribbons.
-Me too. No.
"Ugh—!"
Wind coiled around her body. Bound by Nerindia's gale at the heart of the storm, Yena was snatched up whole and hurled downward. She tried to tear through the wind mid-fall and claw her way back up to the spirits, but her opponent was a High Elemental commanding countless winds — and an assassin, by nature, matched up terribly against beings whose bodies were so formless.
Eventually she was flung onto the deck, sent skidding and tumbling across the planks — and behind her, Nerindia's gaze turned back toward me.
I'd rather not attack spirits if I could help it.
'For Yena's sake, though, I don't have a choice.'
I twisted the green spear.
And in the very next instant, the spear's strike—
"Ugh. Seriously."
-...!
—forced my eyes back to Yena whether I liked it or not.
"Has been. Annoying. Me. For a while now."
The pendant at Yena's chest began to seethe with crimson energy. The playful winds wavered, panicked like frightened children, and came fleeing in a rush into Nerindia's embrace as if running home to their parent.
'...Sinister aura?'
[whoa]
[that's actually strong]
[Yena looks PISSED]
[is she using Death's Echo??]
[wasn't she saving that because of the cooldown? lol she must be seriously mad]
[honestly if someone smashed a ship worth millions I'd be furious too lmao]
[got bounced around like a ragdoll by the wind without landing a single hit, ranker pride must be hurting lol]
[LMAOOOOOOOOO]
[is death coming or what?]
[Death… is coming! Death… is coming! Death… is coming! Death… is coming! Death… is coming! Death… is coming! Death… is coming! Death… is coming!]
[Necro Assassin let's gooo~]
Red energy that hungered for souls engulfed her body. An effect that wasn't chaotic but eerily deliberate rose up behind her, and a figure resembling an orc materialized in the empty air. From the image of an old, crimson-skinned orc, a coarse hand reached out. The orc's mouth parted.
[Death… comes!]
FWOOOOOSH!!!
Crimson smoke whipped around Yena, and from it a horde of dead orc soldiers erupted onto the deck.
These were no ordinary orcs. Every one of them was clad in black-and-crimson armor, armed with matching weapons, a red three-pronged crest etched across its face. They were all living, and yet not living at all — revenants, every one.
-Danger. Evil.
Nerindia soothed the shivering winds around it, then fixed Yena with a glare — eyes no longer round and gentle, but sharp.
-Friend. You hurt. Them. I will. Avenge.
"Bullshit."
Yena's crimson eyes, red enough already, burned even redder. The blade of her dagger stretched long, now vomiting pure sinister aura.
"I'm going to make you into a weapon."
-Dare. You.
Spirit and revenant collided.
The eldest elder of the orc tribe, and its only shaman, had long carried a single great worry.
The black-and-red plague — the one that had begun ten years ago.
The plague, which stained proudly green skin a diseased black-red, spread in a single day and left the orcs wasting away in misery. Child, adult, elder, any gender — no one was spared. All were infected alike, left with nothing to do but wait for death.
The shaman, the only one whose magic could slow the sickness, researched day and night for some way to save his tribe. But no matter how he studied, he found nothing beyond delaying its spread with his own power.
And then, into that dying village, someone came.
A man carrying a profoundly ominous aura.
'A village in trouble, I see.'
'A plague? You wish to cure your tribespeople?'
'Hmm… and why would you want that? What if there were a way to keep on going even without a cure?'
'To be precise, it isn't exactly a way to live…'
Perhaps the situation was simply too desperate. Or perhaps he no longer had the strength left to keep searching. The shaman accepted the suspicious offer — and from that day on, no one in the village ever suffered from the sickness again.
Yes, it is a little strange. But the shaman does not regret it.
After all, are his tribespeople not still at his side? That alone is enough, isn't it?
Blades trailing smoke buried themselves into the spirits. Unlike before, the little wind spirits now fled shrieking, scrambling away in a panic.
These were spirits who would have laughed — Hahahaha—! — and slipped straight past an ordinary blade. But their enemies were soldiers who wielded sinister aura, lethal to spirits by its very nature. No amount of a High Elemental's protection could let them withstand swords steeped in aura that had festered for ages.
Above all else, spirits were mischievous children. Older spirits might have been different, but child spirits like these had never known battle and feared pain. In the end, barely three minutes after the two sides collided, every single wind spirit was cowering behind Nerindia.
Nerindia's wind surged. This was not a motion meant merely to peel Yena away from the spirits — it was an attack that plainly intended to erase her. The raging gale tore through Yena, and she fell powerlessly toward the sea.
But at the spine-chilling wave of sinister aura rising behind it, Nerindia whipped its head around.
-...!
"That's not the one, idiot."
'Phantom Shadow.' One of the skills granted at a 3rd Advancement assassin's ascension. While Nerindia's gaze had been held, the technique was already complete — and seven crimson trajectories, each laden with sinister aura, came pouring down upon a single target.
'Sevenfold Rend.'
Seven daggers unfolded before Nerindia. To shield the spirits, Nerindia hastily swelled its body and threw itself backward. Had it dodged alone, the damage would have been modest — but the spirits happened to be hiding at its back, and it took a grievous wound. Green wind dispersed slowly, scattering like spilled blood. The mischievous spirits trembled violently at the sight of their guardian, now in danger.
-It hurts. Fine. Am strong.
Had this been an ordinary field, it would hardly be strange for spirits to simply flee — but this place had already become a dungeon. And a dungeon, once created, does not dissolve of its own accord.
[this stopped being a game a while ago?]
[Death's Echo really is stupidly strong lmao]
[why are the spirits so CUTE like that]
[fr lol]
[the shivering is adorable]
[now that she's burned Death's Echo she basically HAS to win — that's a legendary hidden piece with a cooldown pushing a whole month lol]
[so we're subjugating a High Elemental now?]
[first time in ages Yena's shown real ranker force]
[hype]
[Yena's genuinely badass ngl. Necro Assassin, holy crap]
[you saying a top-100 assassin looks like a joke to you?]
"Guess you really did look down on me."
Yena grinned and raised her aura-wreathed dagger. The blade burned redder still, as if determined to see this through to the end.
Nerindia, too, was gathering its strength for one final act of resistance—
Vmmm!
—when light flared from the Sylphid Bracelet.