Bloodbound Oath: Between Realms
Chapter 45: Undead

Chapter 45: Undead

Sollivan shifted his senses to Noctis, who was hiding nearby, then quietly sneaked toward the massive coffin at the end of the hall. When he reached it, he could see it more clearly. The coffin was slightly large, made of a strange type of gray stone covered in golden engravings. Its edges were adorned with evenly sized colored gemstones, adding a mysterious decoration to it. There were also several strange white symbols, some cracked or faded, and Sollivan immediately recognized them.

’A sealing formation... but it’s broken.’ He exhaled in relief, having momentarily feared his plan might fail. He slipped behind the coffin, out of sight from the people in the hall, and quietly summoned Noctis’ hands from the shadows on the ground to lift the extremely heavy lid. However, it was far too heavy for Noctis alone, forcing Sollivan to bring out the rest of its body from the shadows, forming two additional hands. With great difficulty, he lifted the coffin lid—though he didn’t set it aside gently. Instead, he threw it down with force, causing it to shatter upon impact, sending a loud crashing sound echoing through the vast hall.

Everyone’s eyes widened. Their fighting stopped abruptly as they all stepped back simultaneously, leaving a safe distance between them. Then, they turned and stared at the coffin in shock and bewilderment.

They didn’t understand what had happened, but the loud noise alerted them that something was wrong. Even Darnell himself was confused and quickly glanced toward where Sollivan was hiding. Despite being fully engaged in battle, he hadn’t neglected his surroundings for even a moment, so he was certain the sound hadn’t come from Sollivan. Still, he suspected it might be one of his ridiculous tricks.

Sollivan slipped inside the coffin, where a human skeleton lay—smooth and pristine white, like a precious stone. He frowned in confusion. ’How is this possible?’ The skeleton was unnaturally beautiful, as if polished, which contradicted the fact that it should have belonged to someone who died thousands of years ago. The skeletal figure lay on its back, hands resting on its chest, gripping a short sword with a golden blade adorned with mysterious engravings and a blood-red hilt that had lost none of its luster. The blade itself gleamed as if freshly forged, without a speck of dust.

Sollivan knew that Arcane treasures were categorized by tiers, and it was clear that this sword before him was of an extremely high grade—perhaps even among the highest in the entire empire.

He didn’t continue staring at the skeleton or the sword. Quickly gathering his courage, he ordered Noctis to merge with the skeleton, just as it did with his wheelchair.

And so, Noctis’ darkness began covering the skeleton, obscuring its radiant white glow. The bones turned into an inky blackness, starting from the ribcage and spreading to the skull and the tips of its toes. Noctis’ gem-like eyes took the place of the empty sockets, and within moments, the once-white skeleton, which had emanated a beautiful white aura, was now a pitch-black skeleton exuding ominous energy.

Noctis gripped the sword on its chest and lifted it effortlessly, making Sollivan sigh in relief—at least the sword wasn’t unreasonably heavy.

...

In the hall, the gathered people continued watching the silent coffin with obvious hesitation, unaware of what was happening inside. Some wanted to go and check, but none dared. While they were lost in their questions, a black skeletal hand emerged from the coffin and gripped its left edge. Their bodies trembled at the sight, their senses screaming in fear.

Slowly and deliberately, the black skeleton rose from the coffin and stared at them with its terrifying crimson eyes. It examined them with cold, incomprehensible indifference, as if peering into the depths of their frightened souls. It was like death itself, its oppressive darkness weighing on their hearts. They didn’t understand what was happening—more importantly, they didn’t know the skeleton’s true strength or if it even posed a real threat. But its chilling presence and arrogant movements left them unable to muster the courage to face it. All the experience they had gathered over the years was useless against something so unnatural, so far beyond their common sense.

Even Darnell, the former Golden Commander, took a step back in clear fear. He didn’t know what stood before him—he had never seen anything like it. But unlike the others, his greater experience and knowledge led him to think of only one thing.

"Undead."

A cold shiver ran through his soul as he uttered that single word, which reached everyone’s ears like thunder. Sven glanced at him for a moment before refocusing entirely on the skeleton, which had now stepped out of its coffin and was walking toward them, its gleaming sword radiating killing intent.

Many Arcane Masters had heard of uncommon monsters like the undead, wandering ghosts, and intelligent vampires—but their knowledge didn’t extend beyond names. Everything else remained beyond their reach. Yet they were all certain of one thing: unnatural creatures like the undead were not weak beings to be trifled with.

Everyone tightened their grips on their weapons and instinctively moved closer together, disregarding their previous enemies. A common foe had appeared—one that would not distinguish between them and would treat them all as prey.

While the others were drowning in fear, Roland seemed slightly more at ease. Unlike them, he didn’t look at the skeleton and instead carefully observed his surroundings. Suddenly, he sprinted, channeling the last remnants of his energy into escaping. He rushed past the soldiers near him, heading straight for the gate. The others were too slow to react, and no one blocked his path. He passed through the gate and fled through the tunnel, not stopping even when he reached the surface. Without hesitation, he plunged into the depths of the forest, disappearing into the dense undergrowth.

The skeleton froze in place and stared coldly at the gate. But contrary to its grim appearance, Sollivan was utterly shocked. A strong urge to laugh at the absurdity of the situation welled up inside him, though he also sighed in disappointment—Roland had escaped far too easily.

’Clearly, he won’t be coming back. No need to worry about him anymore.’ He turned his attention to Sven and his men, who had blocked Darnell’s path to prevent his escape, and sighed. ’Why aren’t you running too? Is a walking black skeleton not scary enough?’

Click!

The skeleton’s jaw opened and closed strangely, producing an eerie clicking sound. Then it stepped forward, approaching the nearest soldier.

As expected, the soldier stepped back fearfully, moving closer to his comrades. Sven then barked an order, "Pull yourselves together. This skeleton clearly isn’t strong. If we work together, we can take it down easily."

Sven charged his sword with Auraxis energy while his remaining followers guarded him. The soldiers near the lighting control lever wanted to join the fight, but Sven signaled to them, "You—stay where you are. Don’t move."

The soldiers were stunned but didn’t disobey, stopping with urgent expressions, unable to suppress their desire to flee. Darnell quickly picked up his spear from the ground and retreated, putting enough distance between himself, the skeleton, and Sven’s men to avoid betrayal. Unintentionally, he positioned his back toward where Sollivan and Devlin were hiding.

As tension filled the air, the skeleton took a few steps forward and clicked its jaw unnervingly, amplifying their fear. When it reached the closest soldier, it slowly swung its sword like a child struggling with a heavy blade.

The soldier’s expression froze, though his fear lessened slightly. He quickly glanced at Sven, who nodded, signaling him to attack.

Gulp!

Without further hesitation, the soldier slashed at the skeleton’s waist. The skeleton defended, their blades clashing. The soldier’s strength forced the skeleton back several steps, barely resisting the urge to topple over.

Its jaw clicked loudly in anger before it swung its sword again. But the soldier, now emboldened, easily parried the strike and punched the skeleton in the face, making its head spin a full 360 degrees before it staggered back a few more steps.

The soldier looked at his hand, his fear completely gone, and smirked in self-satisfaction.

Sven and the others watched coldly, and Sven sighed in relief. "I told you it was weak."

"Let’s finish it quickly," one of the soldiers said, his face filled with killing intent.

Sven glanced at his subordinate before relaying his orders. "No. Let’s see how this plays out. What really worries me is that man. Be ready to ambush and kill him."

The nearby soldiers nodded and prepared to attack.

On the other side, the soldier’s strikes became faster and stronger, easily cornering the skeleton, forcing it back dozens of steps with each blow. In truth, Sollivan wasn’t actually this weak—Noctis in its original form could barely match early-stage Path-Opening Arcane Masters. Its abilities were primarily focused on stealth, camouflage, and merging with inanimate objects for ambush attacks.

The soldier swung his sword, aiming for the skeleton’s head. The skeleton raised its blade to block, but the force knocked its arm back, nearly sending the sword flying. The soldier grinned, his eyes locked on the golden sword. ’This is a magnificent blade...’

Before he could finish the thought, his face froze. He coughed up a mouthful of blood and looked down at the skeleton before him—a massive black needle had pierced straight through his chest from the skeleton’s ribcage. Worse, several large spikes erupted from the needle’s tip inside his body, shredding his internal organs. Then, bizarrely, the needle retracted back into the skeleton.

Before he could fully process what had happened, the soldier collapsed onto his back—dead within seconds.

Everyone stared at the bizarre scene before them, unable to comprehend what had just happened. Mere moments ago, their comrade had been overwhelming the skeleton—now, without warning, he was dead.

The skeleton looked at them and clicked its jaw, as if laughing. None of them realized that Sollivan had carefully calculated his retreat, hiding his body from their sight for a few crucial seconds. He didn’t want to reveal his trump card too early.

But before he could relish his small victory, Sven suddenly attacked with a concentrated energy blade that reached the skeleton in the blink of an eye. Though it saw the attack coming, it was too slow to dodge. The skeletal body was split in half at the waist, its parts collapsing beside each other. In Sollivan’s mind, a wave of chaotic, pained thoughts from Noctis flooded in—his companion had suffered significant damage.

’Damn it!’ His thoughts tangled in fury, but he didn’t sever his connection with Noctis. Instead, he remained sprawled on the ground, pretending to be dead. He could still move—could still reattach the two halves. Noctis wasn’t easy to kill. In the other world, before their contract, priests had beaten and scattered its body multiple times, yet they had failed to destroy it.

As he racked his brain for his next move, he saw Darnell—who hadn’t moved for a while—suddenly swing his spear, releasing a crescent-shaped energy blade that cut through everything in its path. Sven hadn’t expected this ambush, but his men had been prepared. Three soldiers stood in the attack’s path, blocking it with their energy-infused weapons.

But contrary to everyone’s expectations, the blade didn’t stop. It sliced through all three men and their swords, though it lost much of its power and slowed down. Sven didn’t risk blocking it and instead jumped back, using the brief time his men had bought him.

He landed, his throat tightening as death’s grip closed around him. He looked at his three followers, now lying on the ground in six bloody pieces, surrounded by gore.

Chaos engulfed the hall. The battle they were in was far from normal, leaving every present person struggling to keep up. The remaining soldiers glanced fearfully at Darnell, who cursed loudly. He had been gathering energy for that strike since the skeleton appeared, hoping to kill as many as possible—but he had failed.

"Aaaahhh!"

Suddenly, another scream rang out, making everyone turn toward its source. They saw one of the soldiers standing on his tiptoes, screaming madly as a gleaming sword tip protruded from his chest. Blood spilled from his mouth as he stared at the blade in terror and pain.

Then, with eerie gentleness, a black skeletal hand reached from behind him, gripping his chin tenderly—like a loving wife. Over his left shoulder, a black skull with mesmerizing crimson eyes stared at them. Its beauty wasn’t what captivated them—it was the evil, bone-chilling coldness it radiated that froze them in place.