The aura of the undead stirred as if it roared, shrouding the room in darkness. Shadows stretched beneath everyone's feet and, as if alive, tentacles of darkness burst from the floor, rushing straight toward Satoru.
The air whistled as the first strike lunged at him.
[Create Greater Item]
Satoru raised his hand, a white glow coursing through it. A moment later, a halberd of pure steel materialized between his fingers, taller than he was, and without taking any stance, he swung the weapon in a single sweeping arc.
The impact cut through the shadowy tentacles as though they were smoke, the strike carrying so much air that the lamps flickered and Zen's hood was blown back.
Nadi stifled a scream. Beneath the fabric there was no human face, but a bare skull, blackened by magic, with tatters of shadow clinging to it.
"A… Wraith?" she stammered, instinctively retreating.
The violet flames flared in fury.
"To be mistaken for a lesser undead… me, the undead king… is an insult!"
The ground split beneath the mass of shadows, and new tentacles shot forth.
"Nadi!" Yusa exclaimed, raising his staff as he stepped forward.
But before he could invoke anything, one of the tentacles struck; barely shielding himself, his body was thrown back along with Nadi. The blow had been strong enough to crack his staff.
Nadi's cry of concern was drowned out as the assault continued, but before they could be struck again, Liza had already charged forward, her spear tracing a clean arc that cut through the first attack. At her side, Tama and Pochi fell upon the shadows, their daggers shining with magical sharpness and the short sword cutting into the darkness as if it were solid matter.
A flicker of surprise passed through Zen's empty gaze. Mize noticed it too, incredulous: those weapons were real, magical weapons wielded by mere children.
The shadows recoiled for an instant, but there was no respite. Zen raised his hand, and dozens of tentacles burst from the gloom, spreading toward every corner of the room.
Another powerful slash tore into the shadows.
Satoru spun the halberd, bracing its end against the floor, and advanced.
"You're starting to become bothersome."
The blade rose and fell again, shattering a cluster of tentacles, but Zen countered immediately, raising a wall of black magic that withstood the strike.
The impact seemed to shake the entire building, cracks spreading across the black wall conjured by magic.
"Such power… yet with no technique behind it." The undead's words dripped with disdain. "You move like a brute, more like a barbarian than a mage."
Satoru twirled the halberd calmly, unfazed.
"I am a mage. It's only natural not to excel in close combat." Satoru let out a quiet sigh. "However, fighting under these conditions is far from convenient." He raised his other hand, and in his palm a blazing sphere ignited, compressed fire that lit the room with a voracious glow. "But if you insist on continuing…"
Heat filled the room. The flames of the sphere burned in Satoru's hand, devouring the oxygen and casting flickering shadows across every face. The wooden beams of the ceiling creaked as though about to ignite.
"You truly are…" Zen murmured, his hollow voice echoing like from within a grave. "Better than I thought."
There was more than recognition in his words—something like hope and expectation.
The shadows at his feet stirred suddenly, crawling along the walls and floor like diseased roots. The air grew heavy, laden with inhuman whispers.
"But I agree this is not a fitting place for our battle."
The skull tilted, violet flames flickering with intensity.
"[Dark Coffin]."
Darkness spilled like a shroud, covering the entire room in seconds. A wave of absolute cold struck everyone, followed by instant blindness.
Liza barely managed to raise her spear before her muscles stiffened. Tama and Pochi collapsed to their knees, their weapons slipping from their hands.
Even Mize, who tried to intervene, felt the darkness drain his strength. His legs buckled, leaving Mia defenseless, motionless, lips parted in a voiceless gasp.
Only Satoru remained standing, the fire still burning in his hand. The gloom surged against him like water against a rock, unable to pierce his body.
"Dark Coffin" was an interesting spell, not only imposing different status effects but also suffusing its prisoners with negative energy, draining their life force and slowly weakening them.
Shadowy tendrils stretched from Zen's feet, slithering across the ground like serpents. They slid toward Mia, wrapping her small body with unnatural gentleness, as if absorbing her into the darkness itself.
As an undead, Satoru was naturally immune to most of these effects, if not all. The negative energy did not harm him; on the contrary, it was beneficial, even healing him. Yet he did not move. He remained calm, sparing only a glance at Mia, who could not even raise her voice to call for help.
In an instant, the girl was dragged into the shadows, swallowed without a trace.
The figure of the undead began to fade along with her, his robe dissolving into black smoke.
"We shall meet soon. I will be waiting for you in that place…" The hollow voice reverberated through the room, spreading like a distant echo before vanishing.
The silence that followed was heavy. The Dark Coffin dissolved like smoke, and the room returned to the dim light of the lamps. The sphere of fire still burned in Satoru's hand, the only witness that the battle had taken place. With a slight gesture, he closed his fingers, and the flame vanished.
Around him, no one remained standing.
Liza was on her knees, leaning on the spear that still trembled in her hands. Sweat beaded her brow and her breathing was ragged, as though she had run for hours. Her eyes tried to stay open, but yielded under the invisible weight of the negative energy.
Satoru stepped forward and, without a word, steadied her by the shoulder, lifting her with ease. A low click of his tongue was enough to dispel the haze of weakness pressing down on her. Liza blinked, regaining some strength, and looked at him in confusion.
"Master… the girl?"
"She's gone." His answer was as calm as it was curt.
Farther away, Yusa lay on the floor, staff still clutched in his fingers. Nadi was beside him, tears in her eyes, trying in vain to help him up. Both were struggling to breathe.
Mize lay face down, arms trembling as he tried to push himself up. His gaze frantically searched for the girl who was no longer there.
"Princess…" he gasped, before collapsing again.
Satoru watched him for a moment, unmoving. Everyone was alive, but none could rise on their own. The negative energy had left its mark—a reminder of their fragility.
He, in contrast, remained upright, unscathed, like a figure apart, not belonging to the same reality.
Satoru reached into his cloak and drew out a second wooden figurine, identical to the one Mia carried.
"Calm yourselves." His voice cut through the room's labored breaths and groans. "The girl will not remain with him."
He raised the object for all to see.
"This is linked to its pair. When I activate it, I will trade places with its bearer. Mia will return here."
The silence deepened. Even Yusa, still gasping for air, opened his eyes in surprise.
"There is no need for you to move." Satoru continued, calmly tucking the figurine away. "Your task is to wait and recover. I will deal with him."
Liza, who had barely managed to stand, stepped forward. Her spear still shook in her hand, but her voice was firm.
"Master… let me go with you."
Satoru looked at her in silence for several seconds. His cold eyes weighed more than words. Internally, he knew bringing her along would only complicate matters; after all, if he wanted what Zen could offer, it would be unwise to bring her—or anyone else.
He shook his head.
"No." The response was dry, leaving no room for argument. "This is beyond what you can handle."
Liza pressed her lips together, lowering her gaze slightly. Tama and Pochi, at her side, said nothing, but their drooping ears were enough to show their feelings.
Satoru looked at them all one last time.
"Wait here," he said at last. "Do not make reckless decisions."
Without another word, he lifted the figurine and activated it.
A sudden flash enveloped him, and in the blink of an eye, he vanished from the room.
The glow faded, and in the very spot where Satoru had stood, Mia's small figure appeared. The girl wavered for just a moment before collapsing, her eyelids shut in a deep sleep.
Liza reacted first, catching her in her arms before she touched the ground.
Mia's body was warm, her breathing calm, but she was in a state of extreme vulnerability. No one needed to ask: a spell from Zen had plunged her into that slumber.
Liza held her close to her chest, her expression hardening. In that instant, the faint hope of following Satoru faded; it was clear where her help was truly needed.
Nadi, still pale, was the first to regain her voice.
"We should lay her down…" she said softly, her breathing still uneven. "On the couch, at least, until she wakes… and we also need to rest."
Mize nodded with effort, propping himself against the wall to rise. Yusa remained silent as Liza gently placed Mia on the couch. She watched her for a few moments longer than necessary, until the girl's breathing evened out.
"Will Master be alright?" Tama asked in a small voice, her tail curled around her legs.
Beside her, Pochi echoed the question in a faint tone.
"Yeah… will he be alright?"
Liza gripped the shaft of her spear, her knuckles tight. After a moment, she forced her voice to sound firm.
"He will be fine." Her gaze hardened, as though conviction itself were a shield. "Master is… strong."
The three of them had witnessed their master's power; none truly believed anything could endanger him, yet the feeling of being useless still weighed on them. Their strength had grown much in recent days, but this incident was a stark reminder of just how far they were from reaching his level.
Silence returned, broken only by the creaking of wood underfoot. The shop still bore the scars of battle: a wall carved with a clean slash, part of the floor splintered, and cracks where shadow tentacles had struck.
Liza swept her gaze across the room. She clenched her spear until her fingers hurt, then loosened her grip, aware that at that moment there was nothing she could do.
***
The glow of the figurine faded, and when Satoru opened his eyes, he was no longer in the shop.
He was seated. The cold touch of stone greeted him, and as he looked down, he understood: a throne, carved with excessive detail, laden with golden filigree and silver blackened by time.
Before him stretched a vast hall, as large as several gymnasiums combined. The stone floor was covered by a carpet that ran along the entire central aisle, extending up to the dais where he now sat. On either side, cyclopean columns rose, supporting a shadowed ceiling, and from each column hung candelabras with magical lights that bathed the space in a blue glow.
But the splendor was broken. The walls were cracked by years of neglect. Roots and vines seeped through the fissures, crawling like living veins and invading the stone. The windows lacked glass, and whole branches jutted in from outside, a reminder that this was more ruin than fortress.
The echo of his own movements resounded clearly.
Satoru rested an arm on the throne's armrest, calmly assessing. The contrast was grotesque: this place pretended to be a royal hall, but what he saw were glorified remnants, an architectural corpse.
At the foot of the carpet, Zen stood with his back turned, his robe drifting like smoke. Before him, a blonde-haired woman, her features almost identical to Mia's, bowed like an obedient servant. A homunculus.
"You will watch over her while I am away." The undead's hollow voice resounded solemnly, unaware of the presence now observing him from his own throne. "Nothing must touch her."
Satoru let his voice spread through the hall, cold and analytical:
"A ruined hall disguised as a court…" His words fell like a verdict. "But I admit the decorum was well imitated."
Zen stiffened. He turned at once, the violet flames that served as his eyes flickering with surprise at the sight of Satoru on the throne.
"You… how…?"
Satoru paid no mind to his confusion.
"[Undead Domination]."
The ability burst forth like an invisible circle, expanding from the throne and pressing down on Zen with relentless weight. The echo of the skill reverberated through every crack in the walls, as if the hall itself proclaimed it.
As a necromancer and high-level undead, Satoru possessed the power to seize control of other undead. The only clear drawback was that such abilities worked only on undead weaker than the user.
But that was clearly no problem now.
The spell descended like an invisible guillotine. Zen froze in the middle of the hall, the violet flames of his eyes flaring violently, until his skull bowed under the force of [Undead Domination].
A moment later, the homunculus servant raised her head. Her empty eyes glowed with a chilling light, and her voice, devoid of emotion, rang out in the echo of the hall:
"Intruder detected! Proceeding to eliminate threat."
Her body tensed like a puppet pulled taut by its strings. She stepped forward, fingers splayed like claws, moving with blind obedience that needed no further reason.
"Stop!" Zen's hollow voice, dragged by Satoru's command, resounded with a sharp edge of authority.
The homunculus froze instantly. She turned to her master, rigid, as though waiting for a counter-order.
The skull lifted, spectral eyes still trembling, but the voice that came from his jaw was obedient, mechanical:
"Obey."
The woman lowered her head and stepped back, though her features remained taut, as if her simple mind could not process what she was seeing: a stranger on the throne, her master subdued, and yet no order to resist.
Silence filled the hall once more.
Zen stood rigid under the weight of the magic until, with a stiff motion, he inclined his skull toward the throne.
"Master…" His hollow voice rang between the columns. "How may I serve you?"
Satoru's eyes seemed to glimmer faintly beneath the shadow of his hood. He rested an arm on the throne's armrest, calmly watching the undead.
"Do you know the history of this Tower?" he asked, his tone low and measured. "How it was built… or if any records of its origin exist."
"Yes." Zen nodded immediately, like a puppet tugged by invisible strings. "I know the process. I have kept the records and grimoires in the vault."
Satoru fell into a brief, calculating silence. Then he inclined his head slightly.
"Do you have mana potions stored?"
"Yes."
The undead responded without hesitation.
Satoru slowly lowered his hand, marking the order.
"Then prepare everything. Magical or not. I want your entire treasury brought here."
Zen turned his head toward the homunculus servant, who still stood rigid in the hall.
"Do it."
The woman blinked, her empty eyes shifting from Zen to the throne and back, as if seeking confirmation of the contradictory command. Her loyalty was blind, yet confusion was written in her face.
Satoru did not intervene. It was Zen who added, his voice harsh:
"Call upon your sisters and the servants. Not a single item is to be left behind."
The homunculus finally bowed.
"Yes, master."
She called for reinforcements with a mechanical voice, and before withdrawing she looked once more at Satoru, as if trying to grasp her place in the hierarchy. Zen, sensing her hesitation, urged her with a deep growl:
"Go."
She obeyed, vanishing down the side corridor with stiff steps.
The hall fell silent again, broken only by Satoru's voice:
"Tell me something else. Can the Tower still summon monsters?"
Zen inclined his skull.
"Yes. But only once. The girl escaped too quickly, and the energy reserve was left incomplete. I can only generate a single wave of monsters throughout the Tower."
Satoru nodded, satisfied.
"Then activate it. I want to see how much this place is worth."
Zen raised his hand, and in the air, a floating screen of light began to form. Arcane symbols and irregular lines appeared across its surface, rearranging themselves as though they were moving gears.
Satoru did not interrupt him. His attention was on the shadow stretching at his feet.
"Hans."
The ninja emerged with a fluid motion, kneeling at once before the throne.
"My lord."
"I will teleport you to the lowest level." Satoru's voice resounded through the hall like a verdict. "You will test every trap, every corridor, every monster."
Hans bowed his head without a trace of doubt.
"Am I to exterminate them?"
"Do so if necessary." Satoru rested his hand on the armrest, his eyes glimmering faintly. "You will probably find them weak. But I want you to examine every detail carefully. If there is any use to be drawn from them, it must not be overlooked."
The ninja remained bowed for another moment, then lifted his gaze slightly.
"Understood. I will carry out your command."
Satoru raised his right hand and conjured in a low voice:
"[Greater Teleportation]."
A magic circle enveloped him and, in the blink of an eye, Hans vanished, as if the shadow had swallowed him whole.
At that very moment, Zen stepped into the center of the hall. The screen of light he manipulated emitted a low hum and began to divide into multiple fragments, each one showing a different image: stone corridors, descending staircases, chambers filled with mist, and halls with half-formed beasts wrapped in dark energy.
"The Tower is in motion." His hollow voice carried a reverent note, as if reciting a creed. "These are the active points of interest."
Satoru watched them calmly, showing no emotion. Then he inclined his head toward the undead.
"Now, speak. I want every detail. Everything you know about the Tower."
Zen bowed, obedient, and began to speak.