The Silence of Slaughter

The skeletons crept slowly toward the threshold of the house. Finding the door closed, one of them stepped forward and swung it open with a loud creak. The others followed, crowding around the entrance. About ten of them stepped inside. Not a single sound could be heard within the house.

Suddenly, the door slammed shut.

Out of the darkness, a long green sword began slashing in all directions, its movements swift and merciless. Bones shattered, fragments scattered, and skeletal forms were broken into heaps of lifeless remains.

The green sword then dimmed and vanished. Silence returned, heavy and absolute.

More skeletons pushed in through the door. Again, the glowing sword blazed to life—and again, in moments, it went dark, the skeletons crumbling like brittle sticks.

From a distance, the necromancer observed. He raised his left hand, pointing a single finger toward the house, then opened the ancient book he held in his right, flipping through its pages.

As if summoned by his command, a larger horde of skeletons surged toward the house. This time, they didn't just enter through the door—they smashed through the window beside it.

Even so, the darkness within the house remained unshaken.

The green sword reappeared. The skeletons tried striking near it, lashing out with their weapons, but it moved relentlessly. One skeleton, wearing a helmet, tried to attack the sword directly. At that moment, the blade dropped before him. As he leaned in to inspect it, his helmet—and his head—flew off in a single swipe.

Outside, the skeletons began tossing torches inside to light up the interior.

The firelight revealed a figure: Gustav, charging in with a determined look.

One of the skeletons attempted a downward strike from above, but before it could land, Gustav slammed into it, cracking its ribs with a brutal blow.

Elsewhere, Valorant suddenly burst in, launching a crushing kick that shattered a skeleton into pieces. Grabbing a rusted sword from the ground, he began hacking his way through the attackers. After only two strikes, the rusty blade snapped in two. Without hesitation, Valorant rolled under a swinging blow, grabbed a sword from the floor, and counterattacked, splintering his foe with a single, clean slash.

"We're changing the plan," he growled. "They're trying to burn the house. We need to deal with the ones outside—fast."

"You go," Gustav replied. "I'll handle the ones inside."

Valorant sprinted out through the door. On the stairs, he met four skeletons and reduced them to rubble in seconds. A larger swarm outside spotted him and rushed in.

Dodging their blows, Valorant fought back hard, cutting through them. One came at him head-on; he avoided it. Another flanked him, swinging wide. The numbers were growing fast—too fast.

They were surrounding him.

[They're flanking me from behind too…]

He broke through the ring of bones and glanced around. He saw some skeletons moving around the house, toward the back.

[They're going around. Gustav won't be able to stop them. Attu… It's up to you now. I hope—truly hope—you're ready.]

Valorant had survived many such battles. He knew better than to act impulsively. That's why he hadn't yet used any of his Flaming Wrath techniques.

Meanwhile, inside the house, Gustav was still holding off the invading skeletons. But the flood had increased. Unknowingly, he had let several through. There were too many.

—

After locking the room, I stood in front of the door, gripping my sword tightly. No sounds came from beyond it.

The room was eerily silent.

[It's too quiet. So quiet it's starting to scare me.]

Just then, I heard a noise.

I spun around and ran toward it, shattering the only window in the room. I struck upward—and my sword hit the skull of a skeleton climbing in. Its bones were scattered like dry branches.

"What the hell was that?"

Looking down, I saw a cluster of skeletons clinging to the wall, climbing.

Behind me, a loud thud slammed against the door.

"Seriously? Both sides?!"

Skeletons on the other side were bashing at the door, trying to break through. Each impact nearly dislodged the door from its frame.

[It won't hold much longer… but still…]

I quickly started counting.

"One, two, three… ten."

I knocked one away just as it neared the window.

"Now it's nine."

Seeing that the others were still far from the window, I turned toward the door again.

A crack had already formed in the wood.

"Damn it."

A few more hits—and the door split in half. Armed skeletons began pouring in.

I didn't hesitate. I slashed at the first one, but my sword bounced off—it hadn't even scratched it.

I struck again, but another, larger skeleton slammed me across the room. I hit the floor near the window and vomited blood.

"Ugh! Damn it! That hit was strong."

Sitting against the wall, I saw them advancing toward me. I tried to rise—but I couldn't.

It was like the blow had drained every ounce of strength from me. Even my sword felt unbearably heavy.

As they closed in, a memory surfaced.

It was training with my master, back in the forest. I had just lost another spar.

"Attu, how many times do I have to tell you?" he scolded. "Aim for the openings. Don't just swing randomly."

"But how?! You don't have any openings!"

"No one shows you their weak spots on purpose. And why did you cut off your flame mana during the fight again? You're supposed to amplify it when under attack. That way, the hit won't hurt as much—and you'll be stronger. Now get up. We're not done."

That memory snapped me back.

I activated my flame mana again.

[Dammit… I cut it off again when they struck. I have to fix this. Why does this keep happening? What did I feel when he hit me? Pain? No… earlier than that. What was it that drained all my strength…]

I stared at my trembling hands.

[Yeah. It's fear. I'm scared of them—of their attacks. I have to overcome this.]

The flame mana slowly spread through my body, warming me from within. Strength began to return.

I stood up.

Lifted my sword.

Another memory came to me—something my master once said:

"Attu, if you're afraid to fight and there's no escape—then scream. Shout with everything you've got. When you shout, the fear will leave your body."

[I'm gonna test that.]

I raised my sword and shouted at the top of my lungs:

"Flaming Wrath! First Stage — Flame Mana!"

The fear disappeared.

My sword felt lighter.

[He was right…]

Reinvigorated, I faced the skeletons as they charged. One struck from above. I blocked the blow and thought quickly.

[Where's the weak spot? Look—look carefully. His armor… it slows him down. His joints. That's it!]

I slashed at the joints—and shattered him.

Suddenly, a battle axe came for my neck.

I ducked, avoiding the lethal strike, and broke the attacker's arms. The axe clattered to the ground. Then I lopped off his skull.

—

On the other side of the battlefield, Valorant had no room to breathe.

[If this keeps up, I won't last much longer. Time to use the techniques.]

He scanned the area, trying to find some space—and finally did.

Turning to his right, he raised his sword and roared:

"Flaming Wrath! Second Stage — Burning Hands!"

His hand burst into green flame. The fire crawled down his forearm, wrapping around his fingers. His blade ignited as well, glowing with blazing intensity.

The flame surged, and the sword seemed to grow—its burning edge extending with raw pressure and heat.

He swung horizontally.

Everything within the radius—skeletons, torches, debris—was reduced to ash. Even the earth itself had scorched smooth and black.

A vast silence followed.

The smoke choked the air, making it impossible to see.

Valorant stepped toward the gate. He wanted to check if the necromancer was dead.

But when he arrived…

The necromancer was still standing.

Unharmed.

As if nothing had happened at all.