[Shadow Dagger] [Common]—Formed a shadow dagger by borrowing shadows.

  [Dark Sight] [Common]—Adjust dark vision, as one cannot trust anything inside darkness.

  “This is crap.”

  “Which was why…” A voice spoke. Noa crossed the charred remnant of the Shieldnites that were still fading into ashes. The odor of burnt bodies hung in the air as the cold slowly numbed them into nothing. “I’m glad that I couldn’t blast them like that.”

  “I don’t know, Noa,” Suna mumbled. “I much prefer when I can blast things.”

  Maybe it's not complete ‘crap’ like he thought at first. In fact, Dark Sight was quite nice, but he had hoped for just something better, especially since he had not hunted these shadow creatures much, and the mysticism still held. Hopefully, there were still a lot of them roaming around. A bizarre thing to hope for, perhaps, but Suna couldn’t discount the possibility of adding a shadow attribute to his class upgrade. The very thought made him…excited.

  That’s right, maybe if he could be the one who hunted this [Undead Shadow Rebel]… Also, there was the [Undead Godknight] too and the [Undead King]. Three mouthwatering targets he could hunt. As for their corpses, he could hand them to Noa and Reki so they could use the altar…or…

  I could offer one of them to the sun altar.

  Suna had planned to use the [Seeker Drow] corpses. But he could accept the Godknight or the [Necromancer] body as a replacement.

  He bit his lips, settling himself so his desire did not take over.

  “That was reckless, honorable archer!” John exclaimed as he ascended to the first floor. “The first line went first to prod danger, so we, the second line, could be much safer on our approach!”

  Suna thumbed his Gale Bow. With it, he banished the surrounding ashes to make for a clear vision, and he let it go.

  “You’re right, John,” Suna said. “I suppose I got a bit too eager.”

  John was about to open his mouth again, but his angry face softened after Suna agreed with him. “Honorable Archer, thank you for your understanding. It's just, everything was so uncertain—even if we had to hurry—we should have had a proper degree of safety.”

  He looked over to see Reki and Wendy, both joining them as the Runebearers had reoriented themselves. He saw Reki swallowing hard and Wendy scratching their purple cheek. Reki and Noa might have known of his reckless tendency, but not Wendy.

  “So is this normal for him?” Wendy asked Noa and Reki.

  “I always knew he had some tendency, but never really saw it, I think…” Reki muttered. He crossed forward, toward where the Runebearers were. “Anyone injured? Bring them here…”

  “He can heal?” Suna said to Noa, who nodded.

  “New skill.”

  John, instead of checking on his Runebearers, looked down. The sound of fighting still resounded. The Tiefling’s eyes hardened, and he turned away even as the sound of shrill screaming below clearly chained him.

  “How many did we lose? Amidela!”

  “We lost five in the brief exchange! Three injured! Segoras, Max, Urines, Jonathan, and Sollas have fallen!”

  Twenty Runebearers left, that is, if Reki could heal them…

  “Orator, we do not have much time,” John told Reki, who was kneeling, examining the injured Tieflings. It was a very brief clash, so perhaps that was why two of them only had minor injuries, if you count a deep gash across their shoulder a small injury, that is. But the other one, a female, had her hand cut off, and she wailed as she gritted through a cloth to keep her voice down.

  “I can fix them quickly!” Reki snapped. The office worker had finished examining the rune. He lifted his hand, and golden chainmail clanked. With it, golden light emanated from his palm. “One of you pick her arm! I will attach it, quickly now.”

  A Tiefling moved, picking the red arm that had been slobbering with blood from where it had been severed.

  “Leave me!” the female Tiefling said. “Go and save the Thiefmaster.”

  “Quiet,” Reki told her. The moment her arm attached, Reki began to do something that made Suna think he was just playing around.

  He was chanting.

  “By the luminous light as an orator of your voice—the voice of goddess Enalda—I bestow healing and…”

  “Are you messing around?” Suna said, dumbfounded. Before second-hand embarrassment crept in, he demanded further. “Why did h–”

  “Shut up!” Reki snapped, a flush of red tinted his cheeks. “It's my ability. Do you know what ‘Orator’ means? Just be quiet and watch for the enemy.” And with that, he resumed his chanting.

  Suna's mouth opened at the gall of the man; he shook his head at the words that came out of Reki’s mouth. But the result was clear—the Tiefling’s skin had grown with golden light and tried to attach itself together.

  Deciding to trust Reki, Suna examined their surroundings. A beam of light lanced in from several small holes across the fortress roof as if someone had pinpricked them with a thousand needles so they could have some small light. The spiral staircase continued upward; it stood gigantic in a slivering circle. And Suna wished they could go already.

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  Anyone could hear the sound of the fighting they’d caused. And it turned out he did not need to wait long before someone—no, something—came.

  “Enemy! On the stairs!” Noa shouted, snapping everyone’s attention from Reki’s arm. The Bulwark positioned itself at the base of the stairs from this floor. Facing him was a ghost, covered in a dark cloak, whose figure was feminine if not a bit childlike. Its face was dark as the void itself, with floating translucent white hair covering its ears.

  [Gloom Hand. Lvl 55]

  Level fifty-five…

  “Noa! Back up!”

  Not a second after his warning, the light died. It was a small light in the first place, yet they still snuffed out, and their surroundings were blanketed with darkness. Weak torchlight was their bastion of vision. Suna weaved an Emberwind into existence and nocked it. But he was not fast enough to stop what was happening—before him, two giant shadow hands came into being above the [Shield Bulwark] and slammed down on his friend—a scream escaped Suna’s throat. But Noa stood tall, and with his two giant circular shields, he heaved and blocked the hands of shadow.

  Noa’s legs buckled, and his body strained, but he managed to hold the attack somehow.

  Suna aimed, about to relieve him of that magic, but then his Archer Instinct tingled. On his left. He whirled to see a giant hand sweeping through the dark air at him. Suna clicked his tongue and changed his target to it. Light moved with him, and he blasted the shadow apart with the fizzle of his arrow.

  Light burst and snuffed as his arrow exploded into the faraway stark wall.

  His Archer Instinct still called him, this time behind him. He turned just in time to see Wendy erect a shield to block one of the shadow hands. She then tapped her shield with her staff, and an almost invisible cube materialized as a cage, trapping the hand.

  “Suna! The others!” Wendy shouted.

  Another shadow hand—three of them, raked through the air at him and Wendy. Suna glanced at Reki’s side quickly and saw that the Orator was covered in some sort of cyclone of wind, no doubt made by one of the Runebearers. A shadow hand tried to slam at them, but the wind held even as it tried to smother itself down. It almost succeeded, but then one of the Runebearers sliced a wind forward and cut a part of the magic.

  “Three of you! Just hold on yourselves for a bit!” John screamed.

  Easy to say…

  What about Noa? How was he? A huge dark knuckle went down at him. Suna acted quickly; he grasped Wendy in his right hand and launched them upward. Magic exploded in whirling shadow beneath them. But it was not over. The other two hands swung together, trying to clasp them. Wendy’s staff shone, and he could feel her breathing. Two shields were roused on their left and right, and they convulsed against the undead’s magic.

  They broke apart like glass, but by then Suna had zoomed down with Wendy into the ground again. Both of them ran forward, toward Noa.

  “Noa!”

  The Bulwark was surrounded by a bunch of them, the hands. Probably five hands stacked above him.

  He couldn’t even wonder if Noa was still alive or not as the other three of those hands descended upon him.

  Are they endless?

  Suna wove Emberwind and quickly summoned Gale Bow in one motion and drew it. He shot upward, blowing apart two shadow hands. As for the other one, Wendy pointed her staff up and again blocked it.

  Suna kept running, and Wendy followed behind him. They reached Noa, who was now a mound of shadows. He undid his Galebow and built up air pressure on both of his hands.

  This worked back then against Uzu, so hopefully…

  Suna brought his hands together in a clasp, and wind rushed forward and banished the shadows. His breathing almost stopped, and he almost drew Umbralline. In front of him was Noa, standing tall and undamaged like a Shieldnite.

  “I’m fine!” Noa huffed. “Come, both of you! Beneath my shield.”

  “Beneath how?” Wendy eyed him.

  Noa’s double shield enlarged, and they spun in his hand; it was like he was holding it with telekinesis. “Come on!”

  Suna saw now eight shadow hands descend on them. His first instinct was to dodge it because he was confident he could outrun it, but he chose to trust Noa as their shield.

  “Wendy!” Suna reached his hand to the Lunarian; she took it, and he pulled her close and his back bumped against Noa.

  “I will help,” Wendy mumbled. With a quick gesture, she moved the Rabbit’s ear that blocked her vision. Her staff shone again, but Noa said—

  “No need. Both of you focus on the attack.” He said it as matter-of-factly as if he hadn’t been trapped a moment earlier.

  “Are you sure?” Suna asked.

  One hand hammered against Noa’s shield. A crash of energy reverberated, drafting a wild, unruly wind that sent Suna’s hair ruffled. The hand tried to pry the shield away, but the shield spun. And spun. Faster. Until it shredded the shadow hands and the two that followed.

  Looks like he’s got this. Suna smiled.

  How reliable Noa had become in such a short time. Under the whirring double shield, Suna felt safe—safe enough to try his new ability. He formed a Shadow Arrow at his fingertips and drew it back to his cheek. He had a theory, and he was willing to bet on it.

  Beside him, Wendy lifted her staff over Noa’s shoulder. A cube formed and shot toward the Gloom Hand—but a shadow hand intercepted and crushed it like paper.

  “Ah, come on,” she growled, summoning another.

  Suna poured more Mana into the arrow. Light spilled beneath him in a tightening circle, spreading to Wendy’s and Noa’s feet. Both glanced at him, their eyes drawn to the arrow as it lengthened, shaping into a spear of shadow.

  He licked his lips, grinning as the spell swelled with power. Excitement rushed through him, and he fed more Mana into the arrow like water through a broken dam.

  Light danced around them, and every shadow hand that entered the sphere weakened, offering small resistance to Noa’s shield.

  “Noa! Can you throw those shields?” Suna asked, noting that Noa wasn’t even touching them.

  “Yes. You sure, though?” A hint of hesitation crossed Noa’s face.

  “It’ll be fine,” Suna said. “Wendy, you’re in charge of my defense when we charge.”

  “We’re charging…?” Wendy muttered, then sighed. “Alright. I’m in, Suna.”

  “Well? Noa?”

  “Are you sure this is necessary?” he asked. Suna understood his hesitation. Noa’s entire class revolved around defense after all, but Suna had fought Uzu, who had a similar ability, and once he got close, he knew he could do plenty.

  “Just treat this like rugby.”

  That earned a small laugh from him. “Sure. Like rugby. Let’s do this.” His voice carried a rising eagerness.

  Suna’s eyes zeroed in on the creature. Its slim figure hid behind a wall of shadow hands, but he saw the faint outline of its eyes studying him, challenging him.

  “Now!”

  Suna released his Shadow Arrow. It coiled through the air like a furious serpent. Behind it, Noa’s two whirling shields tore forward through the darkness.

  Shadow hands stacked against the arrow, layer after layer.

  Suna didn’t watch. He surged forward with Gale Step, drawing his Thief Sword.

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