Valarie's tale had ended, and Damon opted for them to make a plan of attack. Luckily, the Mist Knight controlling the undead was just a rank two monster.
If it had been rank three… they would've had to flee.
A rank three monster was as powerful as Lilith able to tear down buildings with relative ease. Then again a rank two monster could do just that…. Or worse.
After a few minutes, they had co up with a plan. It could hardly be called that—it was reckless, dangerous… but it was all they had.
The idea was simple: split the party. A dire move, yes, but not without logic. Each mber was strong in their own right, and if Valarie was to be believed, this particular Mist Knight relied more on his summoned undead than swordplay.
That didn't an he wasn't dangerous. If anything he might be even more insidious.
The plan: keep his summons away from him. That was Xander's job—the group's tank—and with him would go the two most offensively capable girls.
Matia, with her vast arsenal of enchanted weapons.
Leona, wielder of the storm itself.
Their role was clear—hold the undead at bay, stop them from interfering… while Damon, Evangeline, and Sylvia went for the kill.
This formation wasn't chosen at random.
Sylvia was knowledge incarnate—a seer with the power to charge up devastating spells.
Evangeline was the bane of the undead, her purge skill and golden light a scourge to the cursed. Not to ntion she was a swift and deadly swordswoman.
And Damon… Damon was Damon. Did anything more need to be said?
He took a deep breath. He didn't like the idea of splitting the group even for a mont. But they weren't going far.
Valarie had explained that Mist Knights were once noble knights of Lysithara. When the city lord beca the Keeper of False Truths, they fell—corrupted not just by rot and madness, but by twisted ideals. Not all had turned. But those who did beca mist-bound horrors.
Damon sighed. The city lord, Vathren, was still alive. Corrupted, yes—but not slain.
Perhaps that was why the armor Damon inherited still remained dull, ashen… fog-like. Not the shadows it should have beco.
'It's not like I can kill such a powerful horror anyway…'
He turned, nodding at his companions.
"You three… be careful."
Then, to lighten the mood, he glanced at Xander, covered head to toe in heavy armor.
"You girls don't hesitate to use Xander as a atshield, alright?"
Matia sighed, nodding. Leona grinned, slapping Xander's back.
"I won't even feel guilty."
Damon smirked. "Rember—stay hidden until we draw attention."
Xander let out a sigh. "You're turning into a nagging old woman. Fine, we'll stay hidden until he calls his minions."
Valarie's lips curled into a smile. "What beautiful camaraderie… this reminds of when we almost fell up the Abyss under Vuldren."
Leona blinked, confused. "Don't you an fell down?"
Valarie's human lips quirked. "No, I an up. Nasty place. Never go there."
Damon sighed. He didn't rember hearing about any abyss under the Sky Continent, but then again… he didn't know much.
"Let's go."
He turned himself into shadow and dove into the darkness.
He ignored the disorienting pull, the feeling of his shadow energy being drained. Hunger clawed at him constantly these days. He and Leona were half the reason their rations never lasted…
He erged in the shadow beneath a table—inside Zaci's Sweet Shop. The enemy was on the third floor.
The shop resembled a restaurant more than a store. And it was one—if the only nu was sweets and baked goods. A runic screen flickered above the counter, displaying prices and specials. How the runes still worked, he had no idea.
"It draws on ambient mana," Valarie whispered from his shoulder. "They're self-sustaining runes. Mostly used in formations and seals."
Damon tilted his head. Valarie's lips were still perched there, slightly translucent. It almost surprised him—he couldn't bring anyone into shadows even if he tried. And he had tried. With Leona. With Sylvia. It never worked.
'Is it because she's dead…?'
Valarie sighed softly. "I suppose the Outsiders didn't bring all bad things. They did teach us Runecraft… and improved our technology."
"Shh…" Damon pressed a finger to his lips.
Valarie scoffed. "Don't shush , boy. I'm a teacher. You can't shush your teacher."
Crouching down, Damon picked up a shard of shattered glass and tilted it just right—catching the pale light of the sun and bouncing it toward the next building.
The signal was given. Coast was clear.
He narrowed his eyes, spreading his shadow perception through the building despite the risk. If sothing sensed him…
He opened his eyes. Empty. No movent. He didn't dare probe the top floor.
"Why is it empty…? No guards… even outside?"
Valarie sneered. "Take a guess."
Damon's expression hardened.
"He doesn't want to give away his location. If I had to guess… he sees through the eyes of his undead."
Valarie's smile widened. "Yes, I know. You're going to call it cowardly—"
"Cowardly?" Damon looked at her like she was a roach.
"Why would I think it's cowardly? I pride myself on having no pride. I respect his genius. Finally, a knight with so backbone."
"…"
Valarie was left speechless. Her lips ford a stunned 'O'.
She had expected a man of principle. Soone noble—after all, he was leading a party of warriors that practically radiated honor.
She was wrong.
While she recovered from the whiplash of Damon's personality, the others snuck in—even those in heavy armor had used the awakened shell form of their gear. Apparently, stealth wasn't off the table.
Xander must've overheard.
He glanced at Valarie's lips on Damon's shoulder and muttered, "Thousands of years of experience… wasted…. She still couldn't see through this Mongrel."
Damon sneered, waving his hand dismissively.
"Alright, you three. Make sure nothing cos up from below."
His tone dropped, sharper now.
"While the rest of us make sure that Mist Knight… never cos down."
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