Graveyard of the Dead (2)
The moment Eugene stepped forward, three skeletons charged at him simultaneously. They were slow. But numbers changed everything. Three rusted swords sliced through the air toward him.
Eugene didn't retreat. Instead, he slowly raised his hand.
Pull.
Kuduk! The lead skeleton was yanked forward as if grabbed by the scruff of its neck. As its body floated up, Eugene twisted his wrist.
Kwang! The pulled skeleton crashed head-on into another charging from the side. The two skulls smashed into a gravestone, their bones shattering into pieces.
The last one swung its sword down, but Eugene thrust his hand forward this time.
Kuwoong! An invisible impact sent the skeleton flying backward like it had been hammered, slamming into the ground.
"…Whoa."
It exceeded his expectations. Gravity. It wasn't mere telekinesis—it twisted the very direction of force itself. If handled well, it could go beyond pushing and pulling to outright crushing an enemy's body.
"This skill's even crazier than I thought."
Eugene muttered under his breath, eyeing the scattered bone fragments on the ground. It was a sense of omnipotence he'd never felt before.
At that moment, the sound of bones clattering together echoed from all directions. Behind gravestones, in the cracks of the crumbling columbarium walls, and from beneath the dirt—dozens of glowing blue eyes lit up.
"…There's a lot of 'em."
Easily over ten. But he wasn't scared. If anything, his senses sharpened. Eugene lowered his stance and extended his hand toward the approaching horde.
Crush them all.
A deafening roar as space itself compressed—the front-line skeletons slammed into the ground. Spines crumbled, dust billowing up. The ones charging behind were flicked upward with an upward snap of his fingers.
"Fall."
Kwang! The airborne skulls shattered against dead trees and gravestones.
He was getting the hang of gravity's flow, bit by bit. Mana consumption was lower than expected too. As Eugene crushed the last skeleton's skull, silence fell over the graveyard.
"…Is this really an F-rank gate?"
According to the app, it was a "low difficulty" gate with sparse spawns. But reality was different. Even after killing them, bones kept crawling up. The whole graveyard felt like it was vomiting them out.
Eugene narrowed his eyes, glaring at the center. An unpleasant aura seeped into his skin. The fog thickened inward, black powder piling on the ground. And at the columbarium entrance, a strange pattern appeared—a magic circle meticulously drawn by human hands.
"Why the hell is there something like this in a gate?"
At that instant, the ground pattern glowed, and the rusted columbarium doors creaked open. Amid the pouring chill, a skeleton in pitch-black robes emerged. It wielded a twisted staff and wore a dark red gem ring. A D-rank monster: the Necromancer.
Eugene identified it instantly. Ever since awakening as an Awakener, he'd crammed monster manuals into his head during every spare moment. To grow strong, you had to know your enemies first—he'd studied gate worlds like a madman for the day he'd face them.
D-rank monster: Necromancer.
Features from the manual flashed through his mind: ranged magic via staff, control over the bones of the dead. An F-rank party would be wiped out—a disaster-class entity.
Eugene's brow furrowed. Bad luck? Or was the gate itself picking on him? The app had marked it low-risk, but this was something else entirely.
As the Necromancer raised its staff, the air froze. Its blue eyes flashed, and bones surged unnaturally from the ground—not one or two, but the entire graveyard writhing to birth new skeletons.
The Necromancer aimed its staff, bones morphing into sharp bone spears that shot toward Eugene.
"What the—?!"
Eugene reflexively detonated gravity. The spears ricocheted everywhere. Let your guard down, and you're dead. As he condensed power again, the columbarium roof exploded—a massive skeletal hand crashing down from above.
Kuwoong! The earth flipped, dust erupting.
The Necromancer gave no respite. The ground pattern blackened as it summoned blue magic circles in the air.
End this in one go.
Eugene gritted his teeth, gathering mana. The dirt at his feet trembled.
"Gravity."
Kugugung! Space compressed entirely. The ground before the columbarium cratered, magic circles smashing down. The Necromancer's body pinned, screeching.
But dark blue magic bullets poured from its staff tip. Right after max output, too.
Damn…!
Too late to dodge—then his shadow erupted violently, forming a black barrier.
Nice catch.
The barrage vanished into the shadow. The Necromancer's eyes flickered for the first time. Natural outcome—this shadow devoured even Irregulars, defying common sense.
"It's over."
Kwajik! Gravity crushed the Necromancer's skull. Blue light twisted, head exploding into shards. As bones scattered, the magic circle's glow died.
"Haa… what a racket."
Eugene exhaled roughly, feeling the numbness in his arms. Close call, but dead. He slowly approached where the Necromancer fell.
But no mana stone. Instead, a dark red orb with swirling black smoke inside.
His shadow rippled unusually, wary of the orb.
"Dangerous?"
No answer. It just stretched long toward the orb, unmoving.
Eugene hesitated, then cautiously reached out. Cold. No—far beyond cold. The moment his fingertips touched, a bone-chilling sensation crawled up his arm. Like picking up a stone from the bottom of an ice sheet. Instinct screamed to let go; he grimaced at the displeasure.
Incheon Airport, Awakener Association's private runway. The massive transport plane's hatch opened, unleashing a stifled stench of char and fresh blood that dominated the air.
The emerging Awakeners looked wretched: tattered combat gear layered with crusted bloodstains. But their eyes burned fierce—the victors who'd sealed the S-rank gate dubbed humanity's calamity, the Heart of the Earth.
Behind them, heavy mechanical devices dragged out from the plane's hold. On a giant tray lay a mountain of a monster: the Earth Dragon Gaiar's head. Its rocky hide crushed, eye sockets gouged deep by a massive black scar.
All felled by one woman's hand.
At the procession's center: Yuseorin. Black hair cascading to her waist. Not a hint of hesitation in her steps. World Rank 1. The era's strongest Awakener.
The runway's cheers and camera shutters filling the space died like lies the instant her foot touched down. Overwhelming might instinctively silenced the crowd, plunging the scene into hush.
Yuseorin casually shed her bloodstained leather gloves.
"Move the wounded first. Reports later."
Her curt order kickstarted the frozen site into precise machinery.
Then, Awakener Association President Choi Cheolseung pushed through the throng himself. Yuseorin's eyes narrowed slightly at his approach. When had the president personally greeted anyone? As far as she recalled, he only moved for crises.
"…Yuseorin, the world's flipped while you were gone."
Choi Cheolseung's face was stone-hard. Not relief, but deep fatigue and tension weighed him down. He stood beside her, lowering his voice.
"You're tired now, so the report can wait—"
"The Black Abyss Gate is gone."
Her steps halted abruptly. The worst calamity no world ranker could even breach, sealed by humanity in defeat—that door to death had vanished.
A crack finally split Yuseorin's impassive face. She slowly turned to Choi Cheolseung. Bewilderment and an inexplicable thrill flashed in her eyes.
"…Gone? That thing?"
Her low voice dripped disbelief. Choi Cheolseung nodded gravely instead of answering.
Yuseorin fell silent. An absolute darkness even she couldn't guarantee ending—someone had erased it. That fact stirred her instincts.
"That's not all."
Choi Cheolseung lowered his voice further.
"An Irregular rivaling the Blood Crescent popped up in an F-rank gate. But even that monster got taken down by someone. If I'm right… the one who cleared the Black Abyss and this Irregular? Same person."
Yuseorin's gaze sharpened coldly. Not some lucky Awakener's fluke. This was skill beyond human norms.
"Black Abyss, and now an Irregular…"
A faint smile tugged her lips. But her eyes chilled colder than ever. She adjusted her gloves, murmuring softly.
"That story true?"
Choi Cheolseung nodded; her eyes gleamed.
"Things just got interesting. President, I'll be staying in Korea for a while."
"If you do, we're all relieved."
His affirmation given, Yuseorin stared beyond the runway. Her monotonous routine cracked—by something massive. A memory from ten years ago flickered; her gaze clouded with complication.
Was it battle lust, or pure joy? She couldn't tell. But one thing was certain: her dead-still heart was beating again.