DCD - B3 - Chapter 49 - Awaken

Pell was blasted away, bones rattling, skull shaking as he flipped through the air. He landed several meters away on his feet, soul-flames flaring as he prepared another strike.

Mr. Bones charged ahead first, slashing with his greatsword. The guard parried, but the force sent him skidding back a few inches. He shifted his weight, dragging the greatsword along the ground before spinning into a counter-slash. It struck Mr. Bones directly, cracking his armor.

This was like fighting a mountain.

They simply weren’t matched in combat experience.

However, Mr. Bones held his ground.

The body of a noble skeletal knight wasn’t something to be taken lightly. Although the guard was gold-tier, Mr. Bones was still wearing the body of a dungeon boss. While he could be damaged by the guard’s sword strikes, he wasn’t going down in a single hit.

Mr. Bones shrugged the blade out of his shoulder and dragged his greatsword up into a vertical strike. It tore through the dirt, but the guard recovered and blocked it once more.

Pell blinked in behind him, harvester already mid-swing. “Just die, already!” Pell shouted.

“You first,” the guard spat.

His speed surged in an instant. Pell’s harvester was knocked from his hand, and a boot slammed straight into his sternum.

This was the third time this had happened.

Further away, Digsby struck repeatedly against the swordsman he was fighting.

It was a terrible matchup—for the swordsman.

With his striker re:role attribute, every hit destabilized the guard’s mana. The man clearly relied on enhancing his body and unleashing sword slashes. It reminded Enya of Risha’s fighting style back in Talo.

While Pell and Mr. Bones fought their swordsman, Enya focused on supporting Digsby. It wasn’t easy, because—

“Digsby! Dodge!”

Enya shouted from the far edge of the courtyard. She didn’t need to shout, though. Her will carried through their bond.

Digsby squealed, sidestepping a stray condensed blast of magic. The spearman near Amberdean continued launching barrage after barrage of attacks. Although he wielded a weapon meant for close quarters, he didn’t fight like it.

Forming a spell circuit, Enya created several bone spears with her construct spell. These were stronger—and she had far more control over them.

Digsby rushed forward, tackling the man directly. His skull slammed into the guard’s blade as the man braced himself.

That was when the bone spears struck.

Three spikes erupted from the ground, shooting straight toward the guard’s back. He turned just in time to see them, already gathering mana to reinforce his body—

—but his attention was pulled away.

Ted. E had finally arrived. He was big and bulky. He wasn’t extremely slow, but he wasn’t the definition of fast either. Regardless, he had made it, and put his skill to use.

A hollow, grinding roar came from the boarbear’s jaws. The guard’s attention was forcibly pulled to stare at the beast. It didn’t last long. Not even a full second. But even half a second was all that was needed.

Digsby’s tail whipped forward, striking the man’s leg. The segmented bound ground together, curling around his leg like a deathly vice.

“Argh!” the man shouted.

His mana dispersed.

What remained was something resembling a large meat skewer—one that probably wouldn’t sell well in any town.

Good job, Digsby! Both of you, go and help Pell and Mr. Bones kill the—

Her thoughts cut off as she glanced back at them.

Mr. Bones was struck again.

Another sword slash carved into the same shoulder. The guard was deliberately focusing on a single point.

This time, Mr. Bones didn’t react.

To the man’s surprise, the skeletal knight ignored the pain and raised his greatsword overhead. The guard tried to pull his blade free, but fumbled.

Enya’s new skill—one that improved resistance against repeated damage—had activated. Once the blade lodged itself into Mr. Bones’ body, the surrounding bone hardened in response, almost trapping it in place.

The guard could free it. And he did just that.

Unfortunately… not in time.

Mr. Bones’ greatsword struck true. It knocked the man’s sword aside with a shriek of steel and severed his right arm in one clean motion.

He screamed.

Pell rushed forward, raising his harvester to finish it—but stopped short as Mr. Bones lifted his greatsword again and swung horizontally.

The man’s head was severed.

Pell froze.

Mr. Bones’ blue soul-flames tightened, almost irritably. He let out a hollow huff.

“Ah… good job, then, Kidirge,” Pell said awkwardly.

Apparently, even Mr. Bones could get annoyed after being struck by a sword over and over again.

Pell made a mental note: this was the most emotion the bag of bones had ever shown.

For half a breath, the courtyard stilled.

Then the pressure returned.

A concussive blast tore through the air.

Pell barely had time to twist as the force slammed into his side, hurling him across the ground once more. He skidded through debris, ribs clattering as he caught himself on one knee.

The spearman still stood near Amberdean.

Untouched, and calm.

Mana pooled along the length of his weapon, light spiraling around the tip as he prepared another shot.

Enya’s teeth clenched.

He hadn’t moved this entire time. While the other guards fought and died, he stayed back—launching spell after spell, forcing Pell and the minions to constantly split their attention.

They couldn’t ignore him.

“Digsby!” Enya shouted. “Get in there—now!”

The skeletal rat screeched and lunged forward, weaving through shattered stone as another blast detonated where he’d been a moment earlier. The spearman clicked his tongue, calmly adjusting his aim.

Digsby was fast.

He closed the distance in seconds—but the spearman was already prepared. He fired an explosive blast straight at him.

As if it were instinct, Digsby whipped his tail around. Hardened bone clashed with the attack, destabilizing its power. A puff of smoke bloomed at the point of impact.

A moment later, Digsby burst from the haze, faster than before, barreling toward the last guard.

He was almost there.

“Childish.”

The word was spoken low. Unbothered.

The Godsworn raised his hand toward Digsby.

Before the skeletal rat could come within ten meters, his body exploded.

Bone shrapnel scattered in every direction. Even his skull was torn apart, snapped cleanly in half, jaw and all.

System Notification: Digsby has perished.

“Digsby!” Enya shouted.

Just like that. In just a single command, a single spell, a single—whatever that was, a minion of hers perished.

Cinnamon Bun had died quickly, who was even stronger than Digsby.

Whoever the cloaked man was… he was dangerous. Extremely dangerous.

Pell and Mr. Bones shifted into defensive stances. Ted.E lumbered forward, his protection field activating. For now, the two of them would be shielded from damage—barring instant death.

Which…

The man clearly seemed capable of.

“Pell, stop this,” Amberdean called out. “You’ve killed what—two guards? Replaceable fodder?” He sneered. “We could erase you from existence with a thought.”

The remaining guard behind him shifted uncomfortably at the phrase replaceable fodder.

Pell ground his teeth. “Big talk for someone not doing anything. Hiding behind hired power.”

Danger rippled through the bond.

Far from them, Enya slipped back into Absolute Focus. Her senses sharpened, locking onto Amberdean—and the man beside him.

That was when she felt it.

Danger.

The warning surged through her bond instantly.

Mr. Bones reacted first. He slammed his shoulder into Pell, knocking him aside with a heavy crash just as something invisible tore through the space where Pell had been standing.

For a heartbeat, it looked like her minions had turned on each other.

But Enya knew better.

They all did.

Something unseen—some force they couldn’t perceive—had narrowly missed erasing Pell entirely.

Pell shook himself and slowly stood, scowling.

“Hired power?” the cloaked man said calmly. “Quite the opposite.” He stepped forward. “Amberdean is my pawn to use. I am no one’s hired power—save the gods.”

Amberdean’s face darkened at the word pawn, but he said nothing. He knew it was true. And as long as godly power flowed to him, he was willing to endure a little humiliation.

“And who are you supposed to be?” Pell asked, rising fully, muscles tense, ready to blink away at a moment’s notice.

The man lowered his hood.

He looked human; late twenties, perhaps early thirties. Short black hair. A slightly weathered face. But his eyes—they had been glowing the entire time.

A soft yellow light, identical to Enya’s Absolute Focus.

Enya honed in on him, her vision sharpening closely. Inside his eyes, she saw it clearly.

Wings.

A left wing within his left pupil. A right wing in the other.

“My name is Asvizer,” the man said evenly. “Envoy of the Godsworns.”

“Godsworns?” Pell scoffed. “The hell are those? Some new religion?”

Enya paused. She didn’t need to know the answer to that question.

She already knew.

Her thoughts drifted back to the painting. The white prison.

Nekron.

The System was built on the gods. The Godsworns sought acolytes—mortals who could serve as conduits, guiding divine power into the world.

And these… these were the ones who would come for her if she ever revealed her connection to Nekron.

A disturbance brushed against her senses. A faint buzzing.

Her eyes lifted slightly, though she kept her head still.

“Elria?”

“You’re in quite a predicament, kid,” Elria said. She was inhabiting her fly-body now, hovering close. “You’re fighting a Godsworn directly. Those bastards borrow the power of the gods and use it as their strength. Compared to system users like you and the skeleton—you’re completely outmatched.”

Enya frowned. What Elria said lined up far too well with Nekron’s warnings.

Elria continued, her voice low. “You’re bound by stupid rules—cooldowns, mana, limits. Godsworns don’t play by those rules. They draw power directly. No cooldowns. No caps. They can practically invoke any spell they want.”

She paused.

“But their power isn’t infinite. Even Godsworns have a limit to how much godly power they can channel while they’re in the layers. It’s a finite resource.”

Enya swallowed. “Do you know how to beat him?” she whispered.

Asvizer was still speaking with Amberdean and Pell in the distance—insults traded back and forth, the Godsworn reciting some hollow religious decree.

“Beat him?” Elria echoed. “I do.” She tilted her head. “And I think you do too. The real question is whether you’re willing to do it.”

Enya’s chest tightened.

She knew exactly where this was going.

“You’ve been approached by one of the gods, haven’t you?” Elria said quietly. “That power you used back in the prison. When you fought me. You haven’t shown anything like it since.”

The fly settled briefly atop Enya’s hair. “You already know how to win. The question is—are you prepared to live with the consequences?”

“I…” Enya hesitated. No answer came.

Elria lifted off again, drifting away. “Regardless, I’m sticking with you. You owe me a body, after all. And I’d say I’ve been pretty useful so far.” Her tone softened slightly. “So even if the whole world decides to hunt you—I’ll be there. For now.”

As she flew off, Elria added one last thing.

“And I’m sure that skeleton will be too.”

Back at the estate, Pell made his move.

“I don’t give a shit about any of your god-peddling!” he snarled. “If you’re working with Amberdean, then you’re a bastard just like him!”

His harvester sliced through the air, spinning end over end, aimed straight for Asvizer.

Unsurprisingly, the man barely moved.

With a single flick of his finger, an invisible force slammed into the scythe, blasting it aside and sending it skidding across the dirt.

Pell clicked his jaw together, irritated. Amberdean really had found himself one hell of an ally.

“Lord Asvizer,” Amberdean said smoothly, “I do believe we should wrap this up quickly. That illusion charm the skeleton brought can’t possibly last much longer. I also need to check whether the children are still confined.”

The Godsworn gave a faint grunt. “Indeed. You’re right.”

His gaze slid to Enya. His eyes narrowed slightly—then he looked past her, toward the remaining skeleton monsters.

“I suppose we should end this here,” he said calmly. “I have other obligations to attend to.”

Everyone tensed.

Before the Godsworn could act, Enya reacted instantly. She summoned another Digsby—without engraving resistances, without assigning a re:role.

There wasn’t time.

“Digsby Two—go, go, go!” she shouted.

The skeletal rat formed midair and immediately lunged forward, sprinting toward the fight as fast as it could move.

Soul-Energy: 337/800

She still had enough.

Her reserves were slowly replenishing from the soil beneath her feet, but they would drain fast if she kept this up. But it didn’t matter.

She had to kill that Godsworn.

Soul-Energy churned violently within her core. She formed a spell circuit, preparing to unleash something massive. It was a technique she had used back when she fought Elria. It wasn’t a real skill, but she thought of it as one.

“Guys!” Enya shouted. “Let’s attack him together!” Her voice didn’t reach Pell or the others, but her will did. That’s all that was needed.

Pell and Mr. Bones stiffened instantly. Pell resummoned his harvester, gripping it tight.

“Bone Forest!” Enya cried, pouring a ludicrous amount of Soul-Energy into the spell.

The ground beneath the courtyard rumbled—then split apart.

Massive holes tore open in the soil as bone spears—white, ivory spikes—erupted upward. They twisted and spiraled, branching into jagged forests of spires that surged forward in a whirling mass of destruction.

Every one of them pointed toward the Godsworn.

Pell and Mr. Bones moved at the same time, splitting apart and dashing along different vectors, using the rising bone spears as cover to close in from opposite angles.

Space bent around Asvizer in short, violent lurches. Bone spikes that should have impaled him vanished mid-thrust, reappearing meters away before exploding into fragments. Others were crushed outright, detonated by invisible pressure before they could reach him.

Even so—there were too many.

The spearman reacted instantly, abandoning any thought of offense. He planted himself in front of Amberdean and slammed his spear into the ground. A translucent barrier flared to life just as a cluster of bone spikes crashed into it, screeching as they shattered against the shield.

Amberdean yelped, stumbling backward.

“Watch where you’re pointing those damned things!” he shouted, ducking as a bone spear tore past his head and embedded itself in the estate wall behind him. He scrambled through the rubble, pressing himself closer to the Godsworn. “Asvizer! Do something!”

“I am,” the Godsworn replied coolly.

Another wave of bone surged toward them. Asvizer raised his hand, fingers splaying.

The air imploded.

A cluster of spires collapsed inward, crushed by unseen force, before bursting apart in a violent shockwave that sent bone shrapnel skittering across the courtyard.

Still, the forest kept coming.

Amberdean cursed under his breath, weaving clumsily through gaps and hiding behind Asvizer whenever he could. Several spikes grazed his coat, ripping fabric; one nearly lifted him off the ground before tearing itself apart.

The spearman pressed close behind them, reinforcing his barrier to block the rear. But it strained under the relentless assault—especially against soul-forged bone spears, hardened nearly to steel.

Asvizer clicked his tongue. “This is becoming inefficient.”

He swept his hand sideways.

A wide swath of the Bone Forest imploded, spears collapsing into splinters and dust—only for the gaps to fill almost immediately as new spikes surged up in their place.

Behind the forest, Pell moved.

He blinked between rising spires, reappearing mid-stride as he ran, his harvester spinning into his grasp. Bone tore through the ground behind him, masking his approach.

From the opposite side, Mr. Bones charged straight through the chaos. He didn’t dodge—he forced his way forward. Bone spears shattered against his reinforced armor as cracks spiderwebbed across his plating, but he never slowed. His soul-flames burned tight and furious.

Amberdean saw him first. “Over there!” he shouted.

Asvizer turned—but Pell struck first.

The harvester carved downward in a lethal arc, aimed for the Godsworn’s spine. At the same instant, Mr. Bones brought his greatsword crashing down from the opposite side, the two attacks converging in a perfect pincer.

For a heartbeat, everything aligned.

Then the air folded.

Both attacks halted inches from Asvizer’s body, suspended as if trapped in invisible amber.

He exhaled slowly. “…Enough.”

The courtyard shuddered as the invisible pressure holding the weapons collapsed inward all at once. The backlash struck like a collapsing wall, rippling outward and sending debris skidding across the ground.

Mr. Bones took the impact first.

A large detonating blast slammed into his torso, crushing reinforced bone inward with a deafening crack. Armor plates shattered as his greatsword was ripped from his grip, spinning away while his body was hurled backward.

Near the center of the courtyard, a burst of skeletal splinters exploded outward.

System Notification: Ted.E has perished.

“Ted.E!” Enya cried.

Asvizer glanced at the remains of the giant skeletal bear, noting how it had taken the brunt of the damage instead of the armored knight. He sighed in disappointing.

“A sacrificial construct. How amusing.”

He raised his hand again, and this time nothing intervened.

The force struck Mr. Bones squarely, tearing through his reinforced body in an instant. Armor splintered, ribs exploded outward, and limbs were ripped free and flung across the courtyard like debris from a detonation.

“No—! Mr. Bones!” Enya screamed.

His skull struck the ground hard, bounced once, and rolled to a stop face-down in the dirt. His soul-flames were hidden from view—alive, but barely.

Asvizer turned away without another glance, his attention shifting to Pell instead.

Pell felt it before it happened. Space tightened around his spine, locking his movement mid-step. In the next instant, Asvizer was there, his hand closing around Pell’s throat—gripping the spinal column itself.

Pell’s feet lifted from the ground as his bones creaked violently. His soul-flames flared as he clawed at Asvizer’s wrist, but the grip didn’t budge.

Amberdean laughed sharply as he stepped closer. “There it is,” he said with satisfaction. “You always did bark louder than you could bite, Pell.”

Asvizer regarded the struggling skeleton with calm detachment. “Your persistence is admirable,” he said evenly. “But you were never meant to stand on this stage.”

From the side, a feral screech cut through the chaos.

Digsby burst from behind shattered stone, lunging forward with the last of his speed. His tail slammed into the spearman’s already-injured shoulder with a brutal crack, crushing bone completely and wrenching a scream from the man’s throat.

Asvizer barely turned his head. He flicked a finger in their direction.

The skeletal rat exploded mid-leap, his body hurled away in a spray of shattered bone. A heartbeat later, the spearman’s corpse followed—snapped backward, lifeless, smashing into a collapsed wall in a broken heap.

Asvizer glanced back at Amberdean. “I hope you didn’t mind losing another guard.”

Amberdean waved a dismissive hand, his smile never faltering. “Who cares about some filthy guard?”

He stepped closer to Pell, crouching until they were eye level. “Did you really think this would end any other way?” he asked softly. “You should’ve stayed dead.”

Pell’s soul-flames flickered.

Enya’s breath came in short, panicked gasps. Her hands rose on instinct, spell circuits forming despite the tremor in her fingers. More bone spears erupted from the ground around them—

—and the world jumped.

Space folded violently. Asvizer, Pell, and Amberdean reappeared several meters away, directly in front of Enya. The sudden displacement knocked her off her feet, sending her crashing onto her rear as the spell circuit shattered in her grasp.

Asvizer stepped forward, looming over her. He studied her with open interest, his head tilting slightly, as though assessing a tool.

“Yes,” he said thoughtfully. “This one will do nicely.”

He glanced back at Pell. “Let’s add the girl to the collection.”

“Fuck—” Pell grunted, clawing uselessly at the man’s arm.

It did nothing.

He summoned his harvester, but Asvizer flicked it aside, shattering Pell’s wrist completely—bone and all.

“Pell!” Enya screamed.

Terror surged through her as the Godsworn tightened his grip on Pell’s spine.

“No—don’t!”

Asvizer looked down at her.

He smiled.

Pell’s spine cracked.

The sound tore through the courtyard—ominous, filled with agony.

But it wasn’t the sound of Pell’s bones breaking.

It was the wail of a little girl.

Something ethereal. Otherworldly. Dark, yet pitched high.

Both Asvizer and Amberdean froze.

The shadows beneath Enya writhed as her scream turned raw and wordless, a pressure unlike mana or soul-energy surging outward from her core. The world trembled—not just the air, but the space itself.

The entire town felt it.

The layer felt it.

A black crown materialized above Enya’s head.

And her eyes—

—turned a misty white.