The trio finally reached the outer wall of the necromancer estate — a twisted structure of bone-colored stone and dark ivy, pulsating faintly with necrotic energy. The front gate loomed open, but a thick fog covered the entrance.
Noah raised a hand to stop the others.
"Alright. From here on, we stay sharp."
Cordelia leaned on one hip. "What’s the plan once we’re inside?"
"We move together at first," Noah replied, eyes scanning the estate. "But once we reach the inner courtyard, we split. That’s when we’ll need a distraction."
Lys blinked. "Distraction? Wait... me?"
A heavy rumble shook the ground as a skeletal claw erupted from the earth nearby. Then another. The fog began to swirl violently, revealing a towering, cloaked figure — bones wrapped in tattered royal robes, a crown fused to its skull.
"A Lich," Noah said calmly. "Guess they put the welcoming committee out early."
Cordelia grinned. "Well, that’s your cue, Lys."
"W-Wait, you’re leaving me alone with that thing!?"
"You’ve got three legendary spirits," Cordelia said, patting her back. "Time to show them off."
Noah turned toward a narrow side path. "We’ll circle to the western wing. Once we’re inside, we trigger Phase Two."
Lys glanced back at the Lich, who was now raising a staff wreathed in green fire. She swallowed hard. "If I die, I’m haunting both of you."
Noah gave a thumbs-up. "Just stall it. Don’t die."
Then, without another word, he and Cordelia slipped into the misty side corridor, leaving Lys alone as the Lich let out a guttural, unholy laugh.
The corridor stretched on, dim and cold, lined with flickering mana lamps. Noah walked ahead, his steps silent, while Cordelia followed close behind, arms crossed and voice sharp as ever.
"You know," she began, "maybe you could’ve told me all this before the whole operation. Just a thought."
Noah didn’t even glance back. "If you hadn’t spent 200 gold on a pair of earrings, maybe we wouldn’t need to break into a necromancer’s mansion right now."
"They were overpriced," she huffed.
"They match my eyes."
"Your eyes are blue. Everything matches blue."
Cordelia rolled her eyes. "So says the guy who wore black to a masquerade and still managed to look like he crawled out of a back alley."
Noah exhaled. "Alright, no point arguing with you."
"See? You’re better when you shut up."
"Oh come on," he groaned. "Can you stop talking for like—five minutes?"
"...So, what’s the plan?"
Noah slowed down, voice low. "The goal is to put the glasses on her. Then I’ll project some mana to show her memories—specifically, what happened when she tried to resurrect her master."
Cordelia squinted. "And you don’t think she’ll be suspicious of those memories?"
"I’ll just say I’m someone who can see the future."
"You actually think that’ll work?"
"Seriously? No. But hey, not like I care if someone finds out I’m from another world. It’s already happened before."
"What?" Her voice rose slightly, surprised. "That wasn’t in the novel."
Noah shrugged. "Yeah, well... that was Cael’s life. Not mine."
They fell silent again, the weight of their secrets echoing in the quiet corridor.
Far behind them, deep within the overgrown garden maze that circled the necromancer’s estate, the air shifted.
Lys exhaled, her breath fogging in the sudden drop of temperature.
A skeletal figure loomed at the far end of the clearing. Cloaked in rotting ceremonial robes and holding a staff of twisted obsidian, the Lich stepped forward, its empty eye sockets glowing faint violet.
Three glowing forms hovered beside Lys—Gaia, sturdy and earthen; Aqua, fluid and graceful; and Fire, flickering wildly with anticipation. All three pulsed with unstable power.
Lys whispered, more to herself than anyone else.
"I hate being left behind..."
She raised her hand, and the spirits surged around her in formation. The Lich responded with a guttural chant, summoning chains of shadow that slithered across the ground.
Steel met magic. Element met death.
The clash was inevitable.
And Lys—smiling now, just a little—charged straight into the storm.
The ground cracked as the Lich raised its staff, whispering in a dead tongue that the wind refused to carry. Purple glyphs ignited in the air around it, casting twisted light across the abandoned garden. From the corrupted soil, skeletal hands erupted, clawing toward the surface as a tide of undead began to rise—armorless corpses, animated bones, remnants of long-forgotten warriors pulled from shallow graves.
Lys stepped forward, her boots crunching frost-kissed grass. Her eyes never left the Lich. The spirits shimmered around her, pulsing with raw, chaotic energy—Fire, flickering with anticipation, Aqua, fluid and watching, and Gaia, humming like an earthquake waiting to happen.
The first wave of undead lunged toward her, shrieking mindlessly.
"Fire," she commanded calmly. "Clear them."
The crimson spirit screamed into action, spiraling forward with a sharp flare. In a split second, a wave of flame swept through the nearest undead, igniting them in place. Dry bones exploded into ash; rotting flesh sizzled and vanished in crackling heat.
Another dozen surged in from the sides.
The ground beneath her feet rumbled. Sharp spikes of stone burst upward in jagged eruptions, skewering the undead mid-step. Several were flung backward as earthen pillars smashed through their ribcages, scattering their remains like shattered pottery.
The Lich did not stop. It waved its staff in a wide arc, and three more summoning circles glowed behind it. From each, hulking undead knights emerged, covered in rusted armor, their swords dripping with necrotic magic.
Lys gritted her teeth.
The blue spirit zipped forward, leaving a trail of shimmering droplets in the air. Water twisted into serpentine coils around the knights’ limbs, freezing in place and locking their movements for a precious heartbeat.
Lys used that second.
Her hands moved, ancient runes glowing over her skin as she summoned the essence of all three spirits into her core.
"Elemental convergence—Tempest Rift!"
A violent pulse of mana surged from her body. Flame and stone and water burst outward in a spiraling shockwave, hurling the front line of undead into the air, limbs spinning, skulls cracking. The garden trembled under the force of it.
She landed on one knee, breathing hard.
The Lich tilted its head, eerily silent.
And snapped its fingers.
From the trees around them, more corpses began to move.
Lys stood slowly, wiping blood from her lip. Her spirits reformed around her, blazing brighter than before.
"So that’s how it’s going to be," she muttered.
She looked forward, toward the growing tide of darkness.
"Fine. Let’s see how many of you I can burn down before the others finish their part."