Without hesitation, I invoked the spell, "Return to Earth," unleashing a crushing weight of magical gravity.
A bone-jarring shriek pierced the air as Lance crumpled, his body wracked with agony.
The sickening snap of fracturing bones reached my ears.
When the storm of his rage subsided, I approached, a grim pity settling over me.
"Y-you... I knew it! You're the true traitor!" he hissed, spittle flecking his lips.
His desperate accusations threatened to incite the Voidwalkers to the church, and my patience snapped.
I silenced him with a brutal stomp to his mouth.
"No more outbursts. A single syllable will end your career. Do you comprehend, you imbecile?" My foot remained planted, my threat stark.
Fear replaced Lance's rage, tears welling in his eyes.
What a troublesome child.
Suddenly, a malevolent presence, a storm of dark energy, erupted from the church's entrance.
The familiar thud of approaching footsteps sent a chill down my spine.
A figure emerged—sightless, speechless, yet wielding a sheathed blade.
The Knights, recognizing the skeletal form of the Voidwalker, recoiled in terror, their faces etched with the ghastly memories of his brutal efficiency, the swift, merciless slaughter of their comrades.
Amidst the fear, their recovery was incomplete; the lingering Half-Moonlight Curse weakened them further.
Looking at my current condition, facing the Voidwalker now was suicidal.
But there's no hope for other Knights to face the Voidwalker.
Everyone is screamed in fear!
At this point, time was critical!
Instantly, I invoked Zephyr, summoning three Wind Warriors to shield me.
Their blades met the Voidwalker's onslaught with a blur of motion, deflecting a blow aimed at my throat.
That split-second intervention saved my life!
"Bain! Go to the barracks! Bring every Knight and hide there!" I commanded, my voice sharp with urgency.
"And bring that coward Lance with you!" I barked, gesturing towards him.
Bain's concern was palpable. "But sir… what about you?", he asked.
"I'll handle this abomination. Go!" I snapped, already sprinting from the church, the Wind Warriors at my heels, drawing the Voidwalker's attention.
Gaia Endowment spell blessing surged through me, augmenting my strength, granting me unnatural speed as I fled down the main street.
The oppressive aura of the Voidwalker pressed down on me, and I felt the icy gaze of hundreds of undead from all directions.
Behind me, the clash of steel echoed—a desperate defense against overwhelming odds.
My Wind Warriors, valiant but outnumbered and cursed, were delaying the inevitable.
The undead horde closed in, a tide of skeletal forms, their blades glinting ominously in the dim light.
They were converging from every angle, commanded by the relentless Voidwalker.
Yet, Gaia's Endowment spell empowerment kept me ahead, maintaining a precarious distance to ensure my safety.
The relentless pursuit was a heart-pounding race against death.
My breath burned, my muscles screamed, but I dared not falter!
The fate of all depended on my escape!
From atop Dawn City's tallest spire, a pressuring menace emanated.
Dreadspires, I knew, was targeting me with his specialized crossbow, his lethal intent a chilling certainty.
A whistling wind heralded the first shooting of crystal arrow; a swift Wind Warrior deflected a crystal projectile that almost strike my skull.
In the blink of an eye, a relentless barrage of crystal bolts, each propelled with deadly precision, rained down.
Another Wind Warrior, a blur of motion, parried the constant assault.
Exiting during the Half Moonlight Curse was reckless, a gamble I'd accepted, but pinning down Dreadspires' location was important.
Instantly, I retrieved a crucial item from my system inventory, a failsafe I'd prepared for diverting the Voidwalkers from the church.
A heartbeat later, two Wind Warriors fell, victims of Dreadspires' precise headshots.
My remaining protectors were swiftly annihilated by the Voidwalkers' onslaught.
Zephyr's resurgence was impossible; the summoning ritual required a considerable time investment, a luxury I didn't possess.
Yet, my defeat was unacceptable!
My hand clenched around the item, ready for its deployment; my last desperate act of defiance!
>Utilized Talisman: The Absence of Sound!
>Every sound from you now become soundless!
The Talisman: The Absence of Sound had rendered me move like a phantom.
My footfalls were swallowed by the earth, my breath and heartbeat inaudible even to myself.
The Dreadspires, reliant on sight, still posed a threat, but the Voidwalkers and their legions, utterly dependent on auditory cues, were blind.
Based on my previous encounters—the harrowing battle with Moonscar and past skirmishes with the Voidwalkers—had revealed their fatal weakness: their reliance on sound to track prey.
Now, shrouded in silence, I moved like a ghost through their ranks.
No single undead armies, including Voidwalkers, not realize I had run through them.
Amidst my running, a crystalline projectile from Dreadspires passed near my abdomen; almost getting strike by it.
As I expected, those missed shot strike undead armies beside me who're almost slashes my back.
On my run, I continued to dodged, weaving through the disoriented undead horde deliberately for caught in the Dreadspires' relentless barrage.
The air filled with the sickening crunch of shattering bone and the agonized screams of the fallen undead armies due to constant miss strike, yet deadly, from Dreadspires.
The main street I currently run through immediately transformed into a macabre tapestry of splintered bone and lifeless undead, the brutal efficiency of the Dreadspires' assault leaving a trail of carnage.
One undead warrior lunged, a desperate slash intended to cleave me in two, but the Dreadspires' fire, a missed fire to be exact, anticipated him, instantly terminating the threat.
Though pummeled and battered by stray blows and errant limbs, I pressed onward, unyielding.
Finally, I reached the Voidwalker, still swiveling his head in bewildered confusion, oblivious to my presence at his side.
Seizing the opportune moment, I melted into the shadows of his back.
The shriek of the wind—a harbinger of the Dreadspires' continued assault—announced their next volley.
In a heartbeat, a storm of crystalline projectiles from Dreadspires slammed into the Voidwalker's form, shattering his flesh and bone with brutal precision.
He tried to parry the onslaught, but the relentless bombardment had already crippled him, severing his momentum.
A final, desperate vertical slash of his blade ended as abruptly as it began, his ravaged body collapsing under the weight of its wounds.
He fell, a hollow husk.
With the Voidwalker vanquished, I sprinted towards the towering structure dominating Dawn City, the Dreadspires' lair.
The system's confirmation of victory echoed in my mind—a fleeting acknowledgment before I refocused on my last objective; defeating Dreadspires.
My gambit had succeeded!
Just as planned!