DCD - B3 - Chapter 40 - Haul of Nobles

“Thank you very much, young girl.”

The old man patted Enya’s head as he took the small brown bag from her—just a simple set of lesser healing potions, perfect for patching up small wounds on the road.

He turned to Pell. “And you too, kind skeleton. This really is a life-saver.”

“Don’t mention it. You pay, we give,” Pell replied. He rolled a small gold coin between his fingers. It was nothing compared to his new wealth of dozens of platinums, but coin was coin all the same.

“Thank you, Mr. Skeleton.”

This time the voice came from the man’s grandson. The boy looked about seven, far too young to be traveling, but everyone had their own circumstances. He swallowed and added, “Th-thank you, too,” cheeks blushing as he stole nervous glances at Enya.

Pell simply nodded, noting the boy’s reactions. “Alright. Good luck on your journey, you two.”

The man and boy waved and continued down the dirt trail, leaving Pell and Enya alone once more.

“How many is that now?” Enya asked.

“Mm… that makes six gold and forty-eight silvers,” Pell answered.

“Is there even a point in trading little things like that when you have a ton of platinum now?”

It was true that Pell was loaded. After the auction, he could be considered one of the richest people in the first layer—aside from major noble estates whose wealth came from land and property. He’d already paid back Ulter’s four platinum, which meant Pell now had both money and a powerful connection.

“If you stop making money just because you’re rich, you’ll lose everything sooner or later,” Pell said. “These few pieces of gold can buy us a lavish meal or be good hush money later, even if it’s not a lot.”

He slipped the coin back into his pouch. “Alright, let’s keep going. Eiyuria should be about two days away now. We’ll reach an overpass soon.”

Pell hopped onto their horse and held his hand out. Enya took it, and he helped pull her up to sit in front of him.

“Hold on tight. You’ll get hurt if you fall off.”

She nodded, following his instructions.

Once they were settled, the horse began moving again. Its hooves clacked rhythmically across the dirt as it responded to Enya’s intent.

The click-clack of bone echoed with each step.

Elria crawled out from Enya’s dress—her original black-and-purple robe—and climbed onto her head. “Y’know, for a bone horse, this thing handles quite well.”

“Of course it does!” Enya exclaimed with a grin. “Aren’t you a good boy, Wednesday!”

The skeletal horse abomination neighed back with a hollow clatter.

Pell had provided Enya with some reference material for a proper horse. While they could have mounted another boarbear, a horse—even a skeletal one—was easier on the eyes for travelers. The ride was also far more comfortable now that Pell had bought a saddle and reins. The reins didn’t do much, admittedly, since the horse responded directly to Enya’s will and commands.

Currently, the trio were traveling toward Eiyuria. It had been two days since they left Shallwick. After killing the two assassins Amberdean had sent, their identities were almost certainly compromised. They had to keep moving or they’d draw more heat. Enya was back in her regular attire, while Pell had returned to his normal skeletal form. He still wore the monster collar, so people would assume he was a summon.

A skeleton, a little girl, and a bone horse still made for a suspicious sight, however. But at least this way, nobody would think they were the ones from the auction.

“What’s at the overpass?” Enya asked as she munched on a few pieces of red strawberry candy she’d bought in Shallwick.

“Should be a merchant’s trail, along with an adventurer’s path,” Pell said. “It’s an intersection that leads to Eiyuria but also to the swamplands to the south. Lots of beasts and monsters down there, so it’s pretty popular with adventurers.”

They continued traveling for the rest of the day, occasionally passing other travelers—independent merchants, small caravans, and wandering adventurers. There were a few close calls, mostly from adventurers assuming the bone horse was a monster charging at them. Fortunately, some quick explanation and a flash of the taming collar cleared things up each time.

Day slipped into night as they prepared to set up camp near the trail. Pell and Enya hopped off Wednesday and started getting things ready.

Along Enya’s wrist, normally hidden under her long sleeves, was a small metal band. It was the very first item they’d purchased off the marketplace; the price had been steep, but worth every coin.

Item Name: Bracelet of Passageways (rechargeable)
Tier: Platinum
Rank: A-
Effect: A bracelet that allows the opening of a spatial portal connected to a single fixed coordinate. The portal may remain open for a maximum of five seconds per charge. Each charge regenerates after six hours of sunlight exposure.
Charges: 2/2
Durability: 26/30

It was a portable warp crystal—an incredibly rare luxury. The thing had cost forty platinum coins—and after paying back Ulter—this dropped their total wealth down to thirty-five. Pell didn’t worry too much about the expense, though. As long as they kept some platinum in reserve, Enya could always craft more Chilled-Soul Cleansing Pills. The bracelet would let them camp safely inside the sanctum, and, more importantly, give Enya an emergency escape if anything ever went wrong.

Enya lifted her arm, and the bracelet shined with a soft radiance. A small distortion rippled in the air in front of her, widening into a swirling portal. Once it fully formed, they stepped through—leaving behind the dark, chilly night and entering the dimly lit sanctum.

Pell scowled the moment he stepped inside. “Gods… I’m still not used to seeing this thing.”

In the center of the sanctum stood the fully formed goliath skeleton of the dragon Enya had been crafting. The bones were now loosely fixed together with a temporary adhesive—slime made from a purple slime core. Guiding the blood along the entire frame had been a tedious process. She was making progress, that much was certain, but it would still take time before the creature was complete. The spirit thread and metal chains would be easy enough to add once all the blood-webbing was done.

She also had the class scryer’s glass she had purchased from the auction. After taking it apart, she was left with some rare materials, and something called a Class System Matrix.

Grimmy had some suggestions on how to use it, but it mostly relied on experimentation. She would have to reference the other class stigmata recipes and see if she could create something comparable. She’d focus on that once the goliath was done.

Pell settled himself near the wall, preparing to rest for the night.

“Once we get to Eiyuria, we’ll be going undercover,” Pell said. “We need to find out what’s happening there and how much control that bastard has over the place. If I’m going to bury his body in the dirt, we need to know the territory first.”

“Undercover?” Enya repeated. She steadied one of the dragon’s bones, nudging it back into alignment.

“We can’t let him know we’re there. If possible, can you make a small skull pendant or something I can use as a body? A polymorph potion changes a person’s skin and is expensive—technically illegal, too. But I don’t have flesh, so I doubt it’ll work on me. If you can keep me as a necklace, that might work just as well.”

“Hmm…” Enya thought about it. She’d recreated Pell’s body before, but never made a smaller version of his skull—beyond repairs. She still wasn’t sure how the souls of her minions worked. Pell was her only real soul. Everything else she summoned was just a mana construct.

“I don’t really know how to do that,” she admitted. “I can probably make a tiny skull and make a necklace, but I don’t know how to move your soul out of your body.”

Pell scratched along the side of his jawbone. “Hm… that is a problem.”

“Why not ask your book?” Elria suggested. She was lying atop the workbench on a ball of slime, mandibles clicking in amusement.

Enya brightened.

That was a good idea.

She summoned The Grim Pullet and held it up. “Hey, Grimmy. How do I move souls between my minions? Like moving Pell to another body?”

The pages flapped open immediately.

<Grimmy> The current iteration of your Summon Skeleton spell does not possess the capability to transfer souls. However, I can store the souls of any minions you choose into one of my pages and transfer them to another vessel myself, as I am connected to your soul.

“Really? You can do that?”

<Grimmy> Yes.

“Wait… can you also do it for Mr. Bones? He’s not really my minion, but he’s inside the dungeon core,” Enya asked.

<Grimmy> As the dungeon core is bound to you, I also have access to its contents. Would you like me to extract all of the summons and store them?

Enya’s eyes widened. “Yeah! Do that.”

The book snapped shut with a thump and rumbled faintly. A moment later, it flipped open again—its pages now filled with images of skeletal monsters drawn from the dungeon core. Zombie rabbits. Flaming skulls. Bone wolves. Soul slimes. Dozens of creatures cataloged neatly across the paper.

And at the last page it flipped to—

The Soul of Kidirge.

Also known as Mr. Bones.

His noble skeletal knight form was illustrated on the page before it.

“Wait… does this mean I can summon any of these now, since they’re inside you?” Enya asked.

<Grimmy> That is correct. I can summon these entities in your stead.

“Is this using Sable’s Summon Skeletons spell?”

<Grimmy> It does not. These summons are pre-formed and require no construction. There is no cost to summoning any registered creature.

Enya grinned and slowly turned toward Pell.

“Let’s see how you look as a rabbit. Or a doggy.”

“Now hold on a minute—”

Pell’s body vanished in a flash of light as Grimmy’s pages flipped to a new entry.

“Hehe…”

Enya’s sinister laughter echoed across the dormant sanctum as time in the outside world quietly passed on.

⬥⬥⬥

As morning came, a spatial fluctuation shimmered through the forest. A swirling portal opened, and out stepped a little girl. Around her neck hung two skull necklaces, and on top of her head rested a spiderling ornament. The portal closed silently behind her.

“I’m hungry again,” Enya groaned.

Pell’s skull pendant vibrated faintly as he spoke. “The only thing out here is wildlife meat. So you either eat it or starve.”

Enya pouted. She wished Pell could store food in his inventory for moments like these. She raised her hand, about to summon Wednesday so they could get moving again.

Elria lounged half-asleep atop Enya’s head, her eight eyes barely open. “Can you buy me some crystals or something to gnaw on? I’m tired of mints—”

She stopped.

All right of her eyes snapped open. Her mandibles clicked once, sharp and quick.

“Somethings here.”

Before Pell could react, Elria thrust two legs forward. Dozens of shadowy hands erupted from the ground behind them—long, clawed, writhing silhouettes that burst upward and lashed toward seemingly empty air.

For a heartbeat, nothing was there.

Then—

Two figures materialized out of thin air.

Black cloaks. Dark leather armor. Porcelain masks of white and red.

With a single sweeping slash, the swordsman dispersed half the shadows reaching for them. The second figure snapped their fingers; a wave of invisible force shattered the remaining shadow arms in an instant.

“Shit—! Enya!”

She didn’t need to be told. Her eyes flashed yellow as she spun around. Her arms rose, summoning The Grim Pullet. Its pages whipped open like a storm.

Two young bone wolves materialized beside her, towering up to her shoulders. Above them, six flaming skulls ignited and rocketed forward toward the ambushers.

But just as quickly as they appeared—

They were destroyed.

An arrow struck every single one of her eight summons in a blink. They exploded into fragments of bone and flame before they even reached the assassins.

Enya’s eyes darted to the right—only to see nothing. Whoever fired that volley was lurking much deeper in the forest… and yet could attack with impossible speed.

A fourth presence flickered.

Elria’s legs clicked frantically as her eight eyes darted behind them. “Enya—!”

Too late.

A blur of black cloth appeared directly behind her.

A swift strike hit the back of Enya’s neck, clean and precise.

“Ah—”

Her breath rushed out of her lungs. The golden light vanished from her eyes as consciousness slipped away.

Pell tried to shout, but the moment Enya blacked out, his connection to her snapped tight. His voice died. His soul-flames dimmed. He froze in place—just a powerless pendant hanging from her neck. Without Enya conscious, he couldn’t transfer bodies. He and Kidirge were trapped as skull charms, both as helpless as Enya was.

He prayed Elria could do something.

But Elria’s panic was written in every twitch of her legs.

These men are too coordinated, she realized.

Elria wanted to attack—wanted to tear them apart—but she was far too weak. Her shadows had already been snuffed out with barely any effort.

She cursed inside her mind. Damnit! If only I wish my powers or a body!

The third assassin caught Enya’s falling body and bound her wrists smoothly behind her. Metal cuffs snapped around her arms—a cold flash of mana sealing shut.

A translucent screen flashed in front of Enya’s unconscious vision.

System Notification: You have been bound with a restriction.
All skills are disabled.
All passives are disabled.
Mana usage has been locked.
Soul-Energy has been locked.
Soul-bound items are disabled.
Soul-bound skills are disabled.

A total of four masked figures surrounded Enya. One of them pulled out a small glass from within his cloak—thin, framed in dull metal. He positioned it over his eye and examined Enya’s body from head to toe.

“Let’s see what the little noble’s carrying…” He paused, tilting the lens slightly. “Featherstep boots. Mana Barrier gloves. White Spark badge. And… damn. A Warp Bracelet. Market average… thirty-five platinum.”

He let out a low whistle. “She’s loaded. Might be the daughter of a duke with this much wealth on her.”

“Lucky haul,” one of the others said. “That’s four nobles now. Didn’t expect to snag one on the return trip. That Amberdean guy should be pretty happy with this.”

The assassins slowly removed each item as the man continued appraising her.

He crouched on the other side, the lens hovering over the two skull pendants around her neck. Then the spiderling ornament on her head.

“…Strange,” he muttered. “Appraisal doesn’t recognize these. No tier, no value, no effects.”

“Crafted trinkets, then?” another said with a shrug.

“Maybe. Take them anyway. We can just say a noble commissioned them.”

Pell and Mr. Bones were lifted from her neck and dropped into a separate sack. Elria stayed perfectly still as she was also plucked and dropped into the same sack.

“Her robe’s an item too,” the man said. “Platinum tier… but for some reason I can’t get a read on its price or effect.”

“Probably worth more than the appraisal glass can handle.”

“Then we really hit the jackpot, huh?”

The fourth assassin—a man with a scratchy voice—gave a short command. “Leave the robe for now. Once Catherine gets here with the transport, have her put the girl in different clothes and toss her in with the others.”

“Yes, sir,” the other three replied in unison.

Damnit… Enya! Pell cursed within his mind. He desperately wanted to act, but he was helpless—his connection cut off from Enya, trapped as nothing more than an ornament.

From their words, these men were working for Amberdean, but it didn’t seem like they were aware of the auction. They also seemed to be specifically looking for nobles or noble children.

But why?

Why exactly did Amberdean have a group out capturing noble children?

⬥⬥⬥

The barrier surrounding Talo flickered.

Not from a single strike, but from thousands — tireless blows that had hammered it day and night.

For an entire week, the land outside the walls had been turned into a wasteland. Craters smoldered. Monster corpses were stacked like hills. The air itself buzzed with residual mana from detonators Phantom had buried under the soil. The plains and forests had turned into a living hellscape.

The monster wave should have died down days ago.

Instead, it had only grown worse—twisted into a frenzied flood.

And above that flood, the real war raged.

A shockwave of force cracked the sky as Lorrin slammed his palm outward. The invisible blast tore through a cluster of reinforced beasts, scattering them across the battlefield. He didn’t wait to watch them fall; he immediately pivoted in midair, redirecting the crushing force upward.

A ribbon of violet shot toward him, slicing reality itself to meet his blow.

Jowlaw slipped out of that crack with a delighted laugh, spinning through the air like a deranged performer. Sweat poured on his brow, yet he still acted like he was full of energy. His frilled sleeves fluttered, each movement deceptive and weightless, like a marionette pulled by strings.

“Oh, Sir Lorrin,” he called, twisting under the blast of force the Paragon threw at him. “You really can’t look away for a second, can you?”

Lorrin’s teeth tightened. He didn’t answer. He couldn’t.

He was already redirecting his skills, already splitting his attention again.

Below him, the monster wave surged, empowered by runes and artifacts Phantom had used. The barrier stuttered as another warbeast hurled itself against it, cracking the light like brittle stone.

“Laventis!” he barked.

“I see it.”

A dozen arcane circles ignited beside him with dizzying speed. Laventis hovered above the barrier, coat torn, hair disheveled, exhaustion etched into every line of his face. Even so, his voice held command.

He snapped his fingers.

A beam of pure arcana ripped downward, obliterating the newest cluster of beasts battering the barrier. They didn’t even scream—they simply vanished in a bloom of white-blue light.

But he couldn’t celebrate.

Because a shadow bloomed behind him. A seal—massive, intricate, and malicious—snapped shut like a steel jaw.

Laventis swung a circle behind him just in time to intercept it. The collision lit the sky with a thunderclap that shook the city below.

Livira stepped out of the collapsing seal, eyes cold, hat tilted elegantly. Her runes spiraled around her hands, forming geometric chains.

“You’re slipping, Headmaster,” she murmured. “One week. Are the lower layers always this fragile?”

Laventis exhaled, sweat beading his brow. “If you’re so confident, stop hiding behind seals and strike me head-on.”

Livira flicked a portal open behind him.

“Very well.”

He had just enough time to turn.

The portal spat out a dozen seals—detonating all at once. The blast swallowed both of them in a storm of light and runic force.

Far above, Lorrin charged Jowlaw again, force bending around him like a crushing storm. Each blow tore apart clouds, fractured the air—yet Jowlaw danced through it, laughing, taunting, his movements impossibly fluid for someone fighting a War Paragon.

“You look tired,” Jowlaw chirped, ducking another gravitational crush. “Oh, Sir Lorrin, this simply won’t do! Heroes shouldn’t sag like old cloth.” Jowlaw spread his arms wide, and the sound of music played in the air like a symphony. Mirages—clones of Jowlaw appeared all at one—hundreds of them. They all rushed toward Lorrin, wide, unnatural grins that touched their ears.

Lorrin didn’t bother answering the man’s taunt. He didn’t have the energy or luxury to.

He was balancing too much:

Holding back a monster flood.

Maintaining the collapsing barrier.

Protecting tens of thousands of citizens.

And fighting a deranged enemy who didn’t care about their fatigue.

Below, the barrier buckled again. Mages, guards, and trained staff from Lightway Academy kept their mana steady, maintaining the barrier as best as they could.

Throughout the week, their sources dwindled. All connections with the other layers were cut off.

Talo was isolated, fighting against an army—and they were on the losing side.