Monochrome Undeath and the Engineer's Magic
Allen aimed his iron staff at the swarm of mosquitoes. A straight line of flame burst from its tip, erasing the loathsome bugs like an eraser. Influenced by this place, even the flames were black and white.
Curiosity surged, but there was no way to resolve it mid-battle. Moreover, a strange new noise captured Allen's attention.
A rattling of bones echoed from the cavern wall, and creatures of the primordial forest appeared as mere skeletons. Despite bursting through rock and earth, their bodies remained pristine.
"Seeing them use necromancy means getting bitten by those mosquitoes would have drained our life force and mana."
"For the labyrinth's vile monsters to be reborn as wicked undead..."
Unlike Allen, who calmly stated the situation, Shiba trembled with rage, his beard quivering.
"Yeah, disgusting like loan shark interest."
"You've dealt with loan sharks too, brother?"
"Just a figure of speech."
"Let's move for now."
Allen pointed to the passage they'd used earlier. Staying here would leave them surrounded by enemies. And with foes emerging from the walls, they couldn't even use the walls as cover. The passage was the exception.
Positioned at the passage entrance, they only needed to watch three sides. Taylor took the left, Shiba the right.
Shiba, who had been muttering to himself, clenched his fists tightly.
"[Cleansing Death]"
If undead existed in magic, then holy arts had Cleansing Death. It purified corrupt mana or lingering spirits, preventing holy power from lingering in corpses to cause explosions or bone-linked follow-up spells.
Perhaps following the user's temperament, it wasn't a projectile but a wrapping around his fists.
Taylor dispatched enemies with his mana sword and shotgun, while Shiba crushed them with his fists. These bare-boned foes were weaker than their living counterparts, but there were far too many.
"Allen!"
"The mage is recovering his mana. His circuits must be tangled from the hasty shield and chain of spells."
"Figures. No way I'd go down that easy... Whoa!"
The silver lining was that the mastermind summoned undead but took no further action himself.
Allen would normally suppress such situations with overwhelming firepower, but he'd left the crates and cart below due to the climb.
As he pondered a solution, his eyes met Sion's across the passage. She'd stealthily retreated and was peeking out.
Her presence concealment was so masterful that even skeletons passing nearby failed to notice her.
Catching Allen's eye, she mouthed words.
'Need help? I'll take 8, you take 2.'
Allen thought he'd misread her lips at first. He shook his head at the absurd offer. He couldn't show his lips anyway, thanks to the mask.
'Then half and half.'
He shook his head firmly.
'No? Fine, I'll take 4... no, 3...'
The ratio plummeted. Why does Taylor only have a sword... A rude word bubbled up, and Allen shook his head.
Anyway, Sion lacked talent for negotiation and seemed inexplicably urgent.
'Does she have something she absolutely needs? If so, did Breaker know about this place from the start?'
Breaker was certainly no saintly corporation. With her skills, erasing evidence would be trivial, yet here she was, fidgeting impatiently.
Maybe he was jumping to conclusions. But what could he do? The world he'd experienced so far cut off noses even from those with eyes wide open.
'Maybe it varies by individual?'
Someone like Omar, the thug-lookalike agent, wouldn't seem out of place attacking outright.
'No. Don't judge by appearances.'
Allen handed his staff to a mechanical arm. It used its long reach to smash a wolf's skull. Another grabbed an oncoming goat's horns and hurled it away.
He surveyed the battlefield. Endless foes pouring in, the master steadily recovering, the vanguard tiring.
The outlook was grim. Retreat empty-handed or fall to the master's bizarre magic.
That would be the fate of an ordinary magitech engineer. The rune pen that had danced on the spiders' backs returned to Allen's waist.
The six spiders that had followed this far moved stealthily. The chaotic battlefield made the palm-sized creatures nearly invisible. Except to Sion, whose expression soured.
The spiders that had gone behind Allen climbed the walls to the ceiling. The cavern ceiling was rough like a cave, perfect for spiders to cling to.
"Allen!"
"Just a moment. Let me try some magic."
Taylor had only called his name again, but Allen grasped the intent and responded.
"Magic?"
"If it fails, we retreat."
Regrettably, exploration was like this. No need to risk life against anyone short of a blood enemy. It was all for a good life—what meaning if he died?
"Sion, that sneaky..."
Truth be told, being the one helped was more embarrassing. Still, as a former instructor who'd arrived first and claimed leadership, he had face to save.
Allen looked up at the ceiling. At the master's will, the six spiders shifted positions.
A mage's spellcasting was complex, but simply put, it followed these steps:
Form a mana construct within the body.
Chant the incantation to draw it out and expand it simultaneously.
Imagination and intuition filled any gaps.
Allen failed at the first step. Attempts to build a construct were swept away like waves crumbling a sandcastle. If mana excess syndrome had only upsides, it wouldn't be a disease.
'What if I build the construct externally?'
Without precise constructs or formulas, it was weaker than a true mage's spell.
Still, worth a try. Dwarf satellite magic prioritized quantity and scale over precision anyway.
Debates raged on quantity versus quality, but one truth held: overwhelming one made the other irrelevant.
Three of the six spiders moved. Each bore a large rune letter on its abdomen. The first to act displayed:
[Radiance]
In the black-and-white world, radiant light bloomed. White rays extended from the spider in all directions. No visible effect yet.
The next spider's rune:
[Negation]
It rejected falsely granted life. The dead should nourish the next generation in the earth, not roam the surface. That was the law of the world, the cycle of nature.
The last: [Purification]
It washed away foul substances. It expelled mana infused with evil will, filling with purity.
Collision with the master's mana caused backlash, visibly slowing the undead's movements—their tangled mana the culprit.
Not just speed; durability and strength suffered too. Previously taking two or three of Shiba's punches to fell, now they crumbled to a graze.
The difference was huge. Three times faster collapse meant conserving strength to redirect elsewhere.
Though undead surrounded them, the tables turned—they were now encircled. Taylor and Shiba, gaining momentum, pushed back.
"We take the bastard's head like this. Shiba, protect Allen."
"No, wait a moment."
The light rays melting undead were an installation-type spell, inspired by mine lanterns and dwarf satellite magic. Naturally, if the medium spiders broke, the spell ended.
The sarcophagus master instinctively targeted the ceiling children, but spiders' legs allowed free movement.
Scuttling away, their abdomens wiggled. Whether enraged by the sight or naturally turning along mana threads, its eyes met Allen's.
Groooar!
Still bellowing incomprehensible roars. Simultaneously, an orb formed on its staff.
Black-and-white world hid its true colors, but irrelevant. Allen never planned to let the spell complete anyway.
Three spiders cast purification. What of the remaining three?
The ones clinging above the master's head dropped one by one.
The first exploded, stripping the shield; the second's flames eroded the body; the last dove, purifying the mana.
Unlike the explosive sacrifice, the others endured until their bodies melted in flames. As Allen's link severed, the undead horde turned to ash.
"May they rest in Mother's embrace."
"House owner's down, so it's ours now. Where to start looting?"
"Brother, word choice..."
"What's wrong? It's true. Whoa!"
A sudden beam grazed nearby, making Taylor whirl. Smoke rose from one mechanical arm.
"What happened? Problem?"
"Had to finish the job."
A gaping hole charred the master's chest. Allen wouldn't waste Nobak's lesson.
Allen scanned with just his eyes in that stance.
"Ah..."
Sion sighed regretfully. Her expression and tense posture factored into his judgment. She'd likely planned to help and claim a share.
Confirming Allen's guess, colors returned only after the chest shot.
End.
Allen's flash—more precisely, the heat ray fired through his mechanical arm—silenced the tomb's master in one strike. As the charred body toppled and shattered, the heated air cooled abruptly.
Taylor kicked the collapsed feline beast's skull at his feet and eyed Allen curiously.
"Turning into a real mage, huh?"
"If I were a true mage, the fight would've ended much faster."
"Whoa... confidence..."
"Not bragging. Just fact."
Taylor, his teasing quelled by the calm tone, pointed at the limp arm post-flash.
"Broken? How're we descending the cliff? Want a piggyback?"
"Boosted the gatekeeper eyes' output, caused overload. It'll wake after cooling and stabilizing—no need to worry."
Nodding, Taylor sauntered to the sarcophagus, kicking blocking bones to dust with each step.
"Can't take any like this. Called me a graverobber, but he's the eager one."
Shiba had his upper body shoved into the sarcophagus, searching. Bent so far his belly draped over the edge, his legs dangled and kicked.
"Found any good grave goods?"
"A few, but no clue what they are."
"Lemme see."
Still face-down inside, Shiba raised his left arm high. In his hand, a transparent crystal.
"Looks like kids' toys."
Next, a fountain pen with a cracked barrel. Allen answered this time.
"Metal remnants in the cartridge suggest an early rune pen. Most magitech mimics labyrinth finds, so not unusual."
After that came rotted unrecognizable paper, empty mana stones, metal crafts mimicking primordial forest creatures or sun-like natural forms.
The paper Taylor carefully cupped in both hands crumbled.
"Why only junk? Thought he was nobility buried alone, but poor as dirt..."
"Brother, we got gains."
Shiba's beard dangled with gold rings and chains. Dwarven instinct for metal suited him well, in Allen's eyes.
"You look like a jeweler."
"Planning to retire into it."
"Monks get retirement?"
"Taylor brother, share your decades-at-the-same-job insights. Always thrilling and heart-pounding?"
"Got boring later."
"Exactly. Mother'll pat your back and say you worked hard instead of the rod."
"In your dreams?"
"Traditional dialogue channel."
"That's why she shows up—'cause you think of her nonstop."