We walked together in silence.
No one spoke.
No one needed to.
When we reached the edge of the lighthouse tunnel, I didn't hesitate—I jumped first.
The drop was long enough to break bones, so before anyone else landed, I summoned a storage memory I had filled entirely with blood. I spread it out into a massive trampoline net, stretching the crimson membrane across the floor like a glistening web.
One by one the others fell, bouncing off the blood-net and rolling safely to their feet.
"Everyone is down!" Sara called.
Good.
I released the net—letting it liquify back into the air—
—but something flashed beside me.
Something white.
Fast.
Silent.
A blur of brittle motion.
The first skeleton ran past me.
Then ten.
Then hundreds.
They streamed around me in a river of bone, rushing toward the cohort—and not a single one touched me. Not one reached for my throat, or swung a blade, or even acknowledged my existence.
Not because they were passive.
But because, to them, I wasn't prey.
I remembered—finally remembered—my own nature.
Innate Ability: [Undying Sin]
You are kin to the undead. Kin to the sinners. Born of divine meddling.
One god's love forged you. Another's hatred hunts you still.
To the undead, you are brother. To the sun, you are an abomination.
And in that moment I realized something horrible:
They weren't ignoring me.
They were accepting me.
I had just led everyone else into slaughter.
"Move!" I yelled, already trying to form a blood-wall—
—but the first wave smashed through it instantly, scattering bone shards everywhere.
The cohort fought back, but without sunlight or divine blessings, their weapons passed through skeletons like they were hitting dry wood.
Nothing died.
Nothing broke.
Everything just kept pushing forward.
There were only two ways to kill undead:
Sunlight
or
the sun god's blessing.
Here at the Forgotten Shore, there was no sun.
So that left…
"Anderson!" I shouted, voice almost cracking. "Give everyone your weapon memories! All of them!"
He didn't even have time to transfer ownership properly—he just summoned every blessed weapon he possessed in one desperate burst of light.
While he did that, I summoned Beast and formed my own blood-spear.
"Buy them time," I whispered to Beast.
He roared, and we charged.
---
The first line of skeletons swarmed us like a wave.
I rammed my spear through three skulls, twisted, and shattered them apart. Beast slammed into another cluster, tossing ribcages aside like dry leaves.
Sara and Effie guarded the rear, slashing, blocking, shoving back skeletons that refused to stay down.
But the horde kept coming—pouring from cracks in the walls, crawling out of broken stone, pulling themselves from the earth like they were rising from forgotten graves.
Finally Anderson finished summoning.
I grabbed the holy weapons using tentacles made from all the stored blood I had—and some of my own when I ran out.
Flaming swords.
Glowing spears.
Blessed daggers.
Radiant staves.
I became a burning storm.
I spun, slashed, stabbed—every movement carving holy arcs through the skeletal army.
Bones shattered.
Ghostly wails escaped broken jaws.
Light scorched through hollow eye sockets.
But I had to be careful.
Even a brush of divine flame could annihilate me.
Beast stayed near my side, ripping apart anything too close.
Behind us, Effie's spear crackled with golden sparks as she pierced skull after skull, while Sara's blade carved glowing crescents through ribs and vertebrae.
Still, the undead did not shrink.
For every ten we destroyed, fifty more clawed their way into the corridor.
The ground was a sea of bones.
Our boots cracked skulls with every step.
We fought like beasts cornered by an ocean of death.
I tore through them, becoming a spinning sphere of blood and burning swords—my tentacles whipping bodies apart, my spear crushing spines, my blades exploding skulls with holy bursts.
Skeletons climbed over each other to reach us.
They crawled using only arms, or even just fingers dragging themselves across the floor.
Their green eye sockets flickered with a sickly glow, all drawn by something deeper in the dark.
And we were losing.
Slowly.
Desperately.
But undeniably.
---
Finally, after what felt like hours, we saw the edge—the canyon.
"Get to the other side!" I yelled.
I had no plan for how they'd do it.
But we had no choice.
I stayed behind to hold the line—slicing through a wall of skulls while Sara, Effie, and the others jumped one after another toward the opposite ledge.
And I heard it.
The sound of bodies.
Smashing.
Shattering.
Breaking.
Not all of them made it.
I didn't have time to mourn them.
Couldn't afford to care.
I only prayed that none of those broken bodies were ones that mattered to me.
Finally, Sara's voice echoed across the canyon:
"NO ONE IS LEFT ON YOUR SIDE! COME ON, ALUCARD!"
She sounded exhausted.
I felt worse.
I jumped.
I missed.
The drop yawned below me like a dark throat.
But I flung out bloody tentacles, clawing the wall, scraping the stone until I managed to hook the edge. My body screamed with effort as I dragged myself up, muscles tearing, vision going blurry.
When I finally reached the ledge, I collapsed to the ground.
My body couldn't take any more strain.
Blood manipulation, divine fire, nonstop combat—my nerves were cooked.
Darkness swallowed my vision.
And as I drifted into unconsciousness, the only thought I had was:
Hopefully Effie and Sara can keep me alive long enough for round two.