ch7. Escape

Jeremy's eyes fluttered open.

Pain. Exhaustion. The lingering chill of necrotic energy coursing through his body. His limbs felt like lead, his throat dry as sandpaper.

Did I die?

No.

He was lying on damp grass, the scent of earth and blood thick in the air. His fingers twitched, brushing against something wet and sticky.

His breath caught.

He turned his head.

Corpses.

Dozens of them.

Twisted, monstrous creatures—fang-mawed abominations, giant insects, reptilian horrors—all butchered around him. Some were burnt to a crisp, others bisected cleanly, as if struck by an unnatural force.

Jeremy's pulse quickened.

Then, he heard bones rattling.

He turned.

Mordis stood nearby, battle-worn, his darkened skeletal frame scratched and chipped. His new shadowy gauntlet was covered in blood.

And despite his complete lack of facial muscles—

He looked pleased with himself.

"…You did this?" Jeremy rasped.

Mordis gave a mocking shrug and a thumbs-up.

Jeremy ran a shaky hand through his hair. I pass out for a few hours, and my skeleton butler goes on a murder spree?

Then, memories flooded back.

The dungeon collapsing. The system transporting him outside before the cathedral fully crumbled.

Mordis must have carried him out—then stood guard while he was unconscious.

Jeremy exhaled. "Good job, buddy."

Mordis did an exaggerated flex, showing off his new shadow-infused body.

Jeremy chuckled, pushing himself to his feet. His entire body ached, but he felt stronger.

Then—

A distant howl.

His smile faded.

Mordis stiffened.

Then—

More howls. Closer. Louder. Dozens of them.

The forest fell silent. The wind stopped. The air grew thick with tension.

Jeremy's instincts screamed.

His eyes darted to the treeline—just as the first set of glowing red eyes appeared.

Then another.

And another.

And another.

"…Oh, come on."

A massive, black-furred wolf stepped out from the shadows, its fur bristling, drool dripping from its fanged maw.

Behind it, at least twenty more.

Their bodies bulked with unnatural muscle, claws long enough to tear through steel.

Jeremy checked his status.

[HP: 120/270]

[Mana: 90/360]

Not great.

He turned to Mordis. "You up for this?"

Mordis cracked his knuckles.

The Alpha growled. The pack tensed.

Jeremy clenched his fists.

The wolves lunged.

"RUN!"

Jeremy and Mordis bolted into the trees.

The wolves chased instantly, their monstrous speed closing the gap fast.

Too fast.

Jeremy's lungs burned. His legs screamed in protest.

He leaped over fallen logs, ducked under branches, zig-zagging through the dense undergrowth—but the wolves didn't slow.

Mordis ran beside him, occasionally punching an incoming wolf mid-stride, sending them tumbling.

But there were too many.

Then—

A clearing.

Jeremy skidded to a stop.

Mordis crashed beside him.

The wolves slowed, forming a circle.

Jeremy gritted his teeth. We can't win this.

The Alpha prowled forward, lowering itself, preparing to pounce—

Then—

A sharp whistle cut through the air.

An arrow shot from the treeline, piercing the Alpha's flank.

The beast yelped—before another three arrows buried into its hide.

The wolves turned—

And a group of armored figures burst from the forest, weapons drawn.

"Take them down!" a voice commanded.

A spear-wielding warrior charged forward, slamming into the nearest wolf and hurling it aside like a ragdoll.

A robed mage chanted, hurling a fireball that detonated in the middle of the pack, sending wolves flying.

A twin-dagger fighter dashed between enemies, slicing tendons with terrifying precision.

The wolves, now outnumbered, hesitated.

The Alpha snarled—before turning and fleeing.

The remaining wolves followed suit, disappearing into the night.

Jeremy exhaled.

The warriors turned toward him.

The spear-wielder, a tall man with dark skin and a confident smirk, raised a brow.

"Well. Didn't expect to find a couple of survivors here."

Jeremy wiped sweat from his brow. "Yeah, well. Didn't expect to be almost eaten by giant steroid wolves, so I guess we're even."

The man chuckled.

The mage, a hooded elf woman, studied him with sharp eyes. "You don't look like a normal adventurer."

Jeremy stretched his arms. "Yeah, I get that a lot."

The dagger-user, a short, energetic girl, pointed at Mordis. "More importantly—what the hell is that?"

Mordis gave her a flourishing bow.

Jeremy smirked. "That? That's Mordis. My totally normal, not-at-all special skeleton butler."

Silence.

The adventurers stared.

Then—

The spear-wielder laughed. "Alright. I like you."

He extended a hand.

"Name's Kale. We're a party of adventurers sent to clear a dungeon around here. But by the looks of things… we might be too late."

Jeremy shook his hand. "Jeremy. And yeah… I might've handled that already."

Kale's brows lifted. "Oh? You cleared the dungeon?"

Jeremy rubbed his neck. "Uh. Kind of. More like barely survived it."

The elf mage folded her arms. "If that's true, then you must be at least Level 10."

Jeremy checked his stats.

[LV 7]

"…Yep. Definitely."

Kale narrowed his eyes. "You're lying."

Jeremy sighed. Well. This is awkward.